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The Colour of Magic (Discworld Novels) Hardcover – November 10, 1989
Purchase options and add-ons
‘Pratchett is very good indeed’ - Standard
- Reading ageBaby - 11 years
- Print length205 pages
- LanguageEnglish
- Lexile measure890L
- Dimensions5.75 x 1 x 9 inches
- PublisherColin Smythe Ltd
- Publication dateNovember 10, 1989
- ISBN-10086140324X
- ISBN-13978-0861403240
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About the Author
Terry Pratchett's books have sold more than 55 million copies worldwide (give or take a few million). In addition to his hit novels about the fantastical flat planet Discworld, he has written award-winning children's books, including the Johnny Maxwell trilogy and the bestselling Tiffany Aching Adventures. Mr. Pratchett received Britain's highest honor for a children's novel, the Carnegie Medal, for The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents. Mr. Pratchett has one grown-up daughter and lives in England with his wife and many cats.
As many of you know, beloved house author Terry Pratchett has been diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer's Disease. Terry has become active in fundraising efforts to support Alzheimer's research. Click here to read a speech Terry made to the Alzheimer's Research Trust Conference in the UK earlier this year. If you are interested in making a tax-free donation to to the Alzheimer's Association click here.Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Colour of Magic
By Terry PratchettColin Smythe
Copyright © 1990 Terry PratchettAll right reserved.
ISBN: 9780861403240
THE COLOR OF MAGIC
Fire roared through the bifurcated city of Ankh-Morpork. Where it licked the Wizards' Quarter it burned blue and green and was even laced with strange sparks of the eighth color, octarine; where its outriders found their way into the vats and oil stores all along Merchant Street it progressed in a series of blazing fountains and explosions; in the streets of the perfume blenders it burned with a sweetness; where it touched bundles of rare and dry herbs in the storerooms of the drugmasters it made men go mad and talk to God.
By now the whole of downtown Morpork was alight, and the richer and worthier citizens of Ankh on the far bank were bravely responding to the situation by feverishly demolishing the bridges. But already the ships in the Morpork docks-laden with grain, cotton and timber, and coated with tar-were blazing merrily and, their moorings burnt to ashes, were breasting the river Ankh on the ebb tide, igniting riverside palaces and bowers as they drifted like drowning fireflies toward the sea. In any case, sparks were riding the breeze and touching down far across the river in hidden gardens and remote rickyards.
The smoke from the merry burning rose miles high, in a wind-sculpted black column that could be seen across the whole of the Discworld.
It was certainly impressive from the cool, dark hilltop a few leagues away, where two figures were watching with considerable interest.
The taller of the pair was chewing on a chicken leg and Mugu
"Just go away, will you?" said the rider. "I just haven't got time for you, do you understand?"
He looked around and added: "That goes for your shadow-loving fleabag partner, too, wherever he's hiding."
The Weasel stepped up to the horse and peered at the disheveled figure.
"Why, it's Rincewind the wizard, isn't it?" he said in tones of delight, meanwhile filing the wizard's description of him in his memory for leisurely vengeance. "I thought I recognized the voice."
Bravd spat and sheathed his sword. It was seldom worth tangling with wizards, they so rarely had any treasure worth speaking of.
"He talks pretty big for a gutter wizard," he muttered.
"You don't understand at all," said the wizard wearily. "I'm so scared of you my spine has turned to jelly, it's just that I'm suffering from an overdose of terror right now. I mean, when I've got over that then I'll have time to be decently frightened of you."
The Weasel pointed toward the burning city.
"You've been through that?" he asked.
The wizard rubbed a red-raw hand across his eyes. "I was there when it started. See him? Back there?" He pointed back down the road to where his traveling companion was leaning on a sword that was only marginally shorter than the average man. If it wasn't for the air of wary intelligence about him it might have been supposed that he was a barbarian from the Hubland wastes.
His partner was much shorter and wrapped from head to toe in a brown cloak. Later, when he has occasion to move, it will be seen that he moves lightly, catlike.
The two had barely exchanged a word in the last twenty minutes except for a short and inconclusive argument as to whether a particularly powerful explosion had been the oil bond store or the workshop of Kerible the Enchanter. Money hinged on the fact.
Now the big man finished gnawing at the bone and tossed it into the grass, smiling ruefully.
"There go all those little alleyways," he said. "I liked them."
"All the treasure houses," said the small man. He added thoughtfully, "Do gems bum? I wonder. 'Tis said they're kin to coal."
"All the gold, melting and running down the gutters," said the big one, ignoring him. "And all the wine, boiling in the barrels."
"There were rats," said his brown companion.
"Rats, I'll grant you."
"It was no place to be in high summer."
"That, too. One can't help feeling, though, a-well, a momentary-"
He trailed off, then brightened. "We owed old Fredor at the Crimson Leech eight silver pieces," he added. The little man nodded.
They were silent for a while as a whole new series of explosions carved a red line across a hitherto dark section of the greatest city in the world. Then the big man stirred.
"Weasel?"
"Yes?"
"I wonder who started it."
The small swordsman known as the Weasel said nothing. He was watching the road in the ruddy light. Few had come that way since the Deosil Gate had been one of the first to collapse in a shower of white-hot embers.
But two were coming up it now. The Weasel's eyes, always at their sharpest in gloom and half-light, made out the shapes of two mounted men and some sort of low beast behind them. Doubtless a rich merchant escaping with as much treasure as he could lay frantic hands on. The Weasel said as much to his companion, who sighed.
"The status of footpad ill suits us," said the barbarian, "but, as you say, times are hard and there are no soft beds tonight. "
He shifted his grip on his sword and, as the leading rider drew near, stepped out onto the road with a hand held up and his face set in a grin nicely calculated to reassure yet threaten.
"Your pardon, sit" he began.
The rider reined in his horse and drew back his hood. The big man looked into a face blotched with superficial burns and punctuated by tufts of singed beard. Even the eyebrows had gone.
"Bugger off," said the face. "You're Bravd the Hublander,* aren't you?"
Bravd became aware that he had fumbled the initiative.
"Just go away, will you?" said the rider. "I just haven't got time for you, do you understand?"
He looked around and added: "That goes for your shadow-loving fleabag partner, too, wherever he's hiding."
The Weasel stepped up to the horse and peered at the disheveled figure.
"Why, it's Rincewind the wizard, isn't it?" he said in tones of delight, meanwhile filing the wizard's description of him in his memory for leisurely vengeance. "I thought I recognized the voice."
Bravd spat and sheathed his sword. It was seldom worth tangling with wizards, they so rarely had any treasure worth speaking of.
"He talks pretty big for a gutter wizard," he muttered.
"You don't understand at all," said the wizard wearily. "I'm so scared of you my spine has turned to jelly, it's just that I'm suffering from an overdose of terror right now. I mean, when I've got over that then I'll have time to be decently frightened of you."
The Weasel pointed toward the burning city
Continues...
Excerpted from Colour of Magicby Terry Pratchett Copyright © 1990 by Terry Pratchett. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Product details
- Publisher : Colin Smythe Ltd; Reprint Ed. edition (November 10, 1989)
- Language : English
- Hardcover : 205 pages
- ISBN-10 : 086140324X
- ISBN-13 : 978-0861403240
- Reading age : Baby - 11 years
- Lexile measure : 890L
- Item Weight : 13.4 ounces
- Dimensions : 5.75 x 1 x 9 inches
- Best Sellers Rank: #64,494 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- #587 in Humorous Fantasy (Books)
- #740 in Humorous Fiction
- #4,118 in Epic Fantasy (Books)
- Customer Reviews:
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About the author
Terry Pratchett sold his first story when he was fifteen, which earned him enough money to buy a second-hand typewriter. His first novel, a humorous fantasy entitled The Carpet People, appeared in 1971 from the publisher Colin Smythe. Terry worked for many years as a journalist and press officer, writing in his spare time and publishing a number of novels, including his first Discworld novel, The Color of Magic, in 1983. In 1987 he turned to writing full time, and has not looked back since. To date there are a total of 36 books in the Discworld series, of which four (so far) are written for children. The first of these children's books, The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents, won the Carnegie Medal. A non-Discworld book, Good Omens, his 1990 collaboration with Neil Gaiman, has been a longtime bestseller, and was reissued in hardcover by William Morrow in early 2006 (it is also available as a mass market paperback (Harper Torch, 2006) and trade paperback (Harper Paperbacks, 2006). Terry's latest book, Nation, a non-Discworld standalone YA novel was published in October of 2008 and was an instant New York Times and London Times bestseller. Regarded as one of the most significant contemporary English-language satirists, Pratchett has won numerous literary awards, was named an Officer of the British Empire “for services to literature” in 1998, and has received four honorary doctorates from the Universities of Warwick, Portsmouth, Bath, and Bristol. His acclaimed novels have sold more than 55 million copies (give or take a few million) and have been translated into 36 languages. Terry Pratchett lived in England with his family, and spent too much time at his word processor. Some of Terry's accolades include: The Carnegie Medal, Locus Awards, the Mythopoetic Award, ALA Notable Books for Children, ALA Best Books for Young Adults, Book Sense 76 Pick, Prometheus Award and the British Fantasy Award.
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So here we are, visiting a world that exists as a flat disc with water walling over the edges, carried by four giant elephants standing on an ancient turtle, covered in meteor holes and all sorts of space debris, swimming who knows where....In one of it's cities, Ankh-Morpork , a failed wizard by the name of Rincewind comes across Twoflower, a traveling little man with magical luggage, carved out of rare sapient pear tree that follows him everywhere on its tiny feet. Yes walking luggage, with teeth too, guarding his master and providing lots of entertainment through out the story. The two men are the only ones in the whole city who speak the same language and thus their zany adventures start. Hastily hired as a guide the magician, who sucks at magic but it awfully funny and likable, gets into all sorts of troubles with trolls, dragons, islands with lunatics chased by Death itself without trying to loose poor Twoflower who thinks the whole adventure as a great sight seeing trip, they escape all sorts of scenarios that take them form the murkiest depths of underwater caves into far away galaxies in deep space.
Seems like a lot and it is, but the novel takes all sorts of turns ad twists and one never knows what awaits our heroes on the next page. When Gods play magic dice and Fate and Death are in talks of getting them, our characters have a lot at stake and loosing such charming little fellows would certainly be horrible so the reader is constantly kept on a tight leash as the beauty of the story and its intricate pattern morphs into more fantastic scenarios. I can't even clearly say what this book is about other than being simply fantastic, albeit very complex. Folklore, mythology, fairy tales, comedy and drama, it's all here exquisitely woven for those who dare.
- Kasia S.
I am going to focus on the different editions you can purchase.
A+ - the hardback copies by Gollancz, very high quality. The paper is a nice feel, the print is very good, the covers are a soft cotton, they do not have dust-jackets (like all their hardback books), but the covers are designed very uniquely. I hope they have the entire series, looks like they have a lot of them.
B+ - the paperback copy by Harper. This was the first copy I obtained, it is also very good, the paper, cover, and print are very high quality. The only down side to these, is there is no uniform editions. I believe they only printed the first three books, then after that another publisher stepped in and so the appearance of the books look very different from the others.
C+ - the mass market paperback copy by Harper Collins. This was a very cheaply produced book. The first two books I got, were good quality (all ordered new from amazon, btw), paper was good, cover, and print were all good. Then the third and fourth books were definitely low quality. The print was poorly done, some passages appeared blurry, poor print job. The upside to these are the uniform look. The downside, terrible quality production.
If you are looking for an interesting set of fiction, I absolutely love Pratchett's imagination and writing style, I bought all his other story collections, then I would definitely check out this series. I don't have any preference about where you start, some reviewers really are not fans of the first two, I thought they were good enough for me to keep going, but I definitely think they get better. I also like the stand alone nature of the stories, so I can pick the themes I enjoy the most to focus on and read.
As far as which edition to buy, you might want to start with the mass market, they are cheaper, then if you like them, go with the other paperbacks. I have enjoyed the first five or so that I have read, I am now buying only the hardback editions.
Enjoy! . . .
Rincewind, an inept or very adept (we aren’t sure which) magician finds himself the caretaker of Twoflower, the world’s first and only tourist. Twoflower is remarkably relaxed or just naive in the face of the constant danger he puts the two of them
in as they explore, or rather stumble blindly around, Discworld, a made up land on the backs of turtles carried by elephants. It’s asinine yet somehow quite intelligent. The satire is humorous but I’m not sure I like that it’s more satire than story at points. This certainly isn’t straightforward fantasy where we dive into a world and get a fantastic story. I’m wondering if reading more of the books set in this world will bring it all into focus. It bounces around so quickly without enough detail and explanation of each place. It was too chaotic and choppy to fully enjoy in my opinion.
I think I’m going to skip forward and try Wee Free Men next because I hear that one is stellar.