A Look at Terry Pratchett’s The Last Hero
by Fletcher Vrendenburgh
Discworld is the setting for forty-one novels, several plays and shorts stories, and a computer game or two. The Discworld is a 10,000 mile diameter disc carried through space on the backs of four gigantic elephants carried on the back of a titanic turtle. For over thirty years, Terry Pratchett spun tales of comedic gold that began as straightforward parodies of fantasy fiction and evolved into complex satires of humanity, its foibles, and its dreams. All of his strengths are wonderfully displayed in the lavishly illustrated The Last Hero (2001).
At the end of Interesting Times (1994), ninety year old Cohen the Barbarian (aka Ghengiz Cohen), the greatest barbarian warrior of all time became ruler of the Agatean Empire. Now, Cohen and the other surviving members of his geriatric Silver Horde are fearful of not dying heroically.
“When Old Vincent died, him being one of us,” said Boy Willie, “where was the Bridge of Frost to take him to the Feast of the Gods, eh? No, they got him, they let him get soft with comfy beds and someone to chew his food for him. They nearly got us all.”
To avoid so terrible a fate, Cohen and company decide to pay the gods a visit. The first hero in creation paid a price for stealing fire from the gods (the usual chained-to-some-rock and eagle-endlessly-tearing-out-a-regenerating-liver everyday thing). The Silver Horde decides to return fire to the gods with interest and plan to plow up Cori Celesti, the great mountain rising from the center of Discworld. At its top is the gated community of Dunmanifestin where the mightiest of gods live and play endless, and often capricious, games with the lives of mortal.
Unfortunately, if Silver Horde manages to pull off their scheme, magic will be extinguished and with it the Discworld itself. As the Head of Inadvisably Applied Magic at the Unseen University explains it, “the seas will run dry. The sun will burn out and crash. The elephants and the turtle may cease to exist altogether.” A plan to thwart the Cohen and his Horde is thrown together, bringing together characters from several of Discworld’s assorted subseries.
The story mostly alternates between Cohen and the Silver Horde’s adventure, the expedition to stop the Horde. From underside of the great world disc to the heights of the divine mountain, The Last Hero never flags. It is packed with action and suffused with a sense of humor that ranges from puns to dialogue worthy of Wodehouse.
The book has a host of hilarious and droll dissections of numerous classic fantasy bits. One of my favorite occurs after the Horde is unsuccessfully ambushed by an old enemy. After a brief engagement they sit down together.
Up on the lower slopes of Cori Celesti, it was time for old times. Ambushers and ambushees had lit a fire.
“So how come you left the Evil Dark Lord business, Harry?” said Cohen.
“Well, you know how it is these days,” said Evil Harry Dread.
The Horde nodded. They knew how it was these days.
“People these days, when they’re attacking your Dark Evil Tower, the first thing they do is block up your escape tunnel,” said Evil Harry.
“Bastards!” said Cohen. “You’ve got to let the Dark Lord escape. Everyone knows that.”
“That’s right,” said Caleb. “Got to leave yourself some work for tomorrow.”
“And it wasn’t as if I didn’t play fair.” said Evil Harry. “I mean, I always left a secret back entrance to my Mountain of Dread, I employed really stupid people as cell guards —”
“Dat’s me,” said the enormous troll proudly.
“— that was you, right, and I always made sure all my henchmen had the kind of helmets that covered the whole face, so an enterprising hero could disguise himself in one, and those come damn expensive, let me tell you.”
“Me and Evil Harry go way back,” said Cohen, rolling a cigarette. “I knew him when he was starting up with just two lads and his Shed of Doom.”
“And Slasher, the Steed of Terror,” Evil Harry pointed out.
“Yes, but he was a donkey, Harry,” Cohen pointed out.
“He had a very nasty bite on him, though. He’d take your finger off as soon as look at you.”
“Didn’t I fight you when you were the Doomed Spider God?” said Caleb.
“Probably. Everyone else did. They were great days,” said Harry. “Giant spiders is always reliable, better’n octopussies, even.” He sighed. “And then, of course, it all changed.”
They nodded. It had all changed.
The other thing about The Last Hero is the art. From the beginning, the covers of the Discworld books had been illustrated by Josh Kirby. When he died in 2001, that duty was picked up by Paul Kidby starting with this book. He would go on to serve as the Discworld’s cover artist until the end, but nothing compares to what he did here.
In 1985 or so, my friend handed me a copy of the first Discworld book, The Colour of Magic (1983), and it’s not an exaggeration to say I was blown away. My experience with purportedly comic fantasy novels had never been a good one as they were rarely comical, but this extremely funny story about a cynical and cowardly wizard named Rincewind acting as guide to the Discworld’s first tourist had me laughing out loud.
At his prime, between 1987 and 2004, Pratchett wrote one or two books every year. Until J.K. Rowling appeared on the scene he was the bestselling author in the UK. Even after Harry Potter’s ascent, Pratchett remained the second best-selling author. If you haven’t read Pratchett because of a well-founded apprehension about comic fantasy, I understand. Pratchett, though, was no mere spoofster. At his best, as with this book or some others, such as Small Gods (1992), Feet of Clay (1996), or Night Watch (2002), he wrote some of the very best fantasy of all time. He was a satirist of tremendous gifts, but even more, he was a storyteller of the very first order.
Header image is ‘Great T’Phon Rising’ by Discworld artist Paul Kidby, one of the illustrations in The Last Hero.
