R.I.P Terry Pratchett
So, I think we are all aware that it has been a bad year for saddening deaths of the influential, and as news of Sir Terry Pratchett’s death broke, people were once again in mourning for the loss of another great icon. Terry Pratchett, who died aged 66, was an author perhaps best known for his series of Discworld fantasy novels, among other more diverse work. A quirky and frankly hilarious writer, Pratchett’s works were a wonderful oddity within an increasingly saturated literary world, becoming extraordinarily popular as a result.
For me, my own encounters with Pratchett started young. My first experience of his distinguishable style of writing, like many others, was in reading The Colour of Magic (the first of the Discworld novels). Vivid, kooky, and expertly fantastical, the novel remains in my mind as one of the specimen examples of light-hearted, fantasy escapism.
Pratchett stands clear as a man of extraordinary talent, whose intelligence and humour permeated his writing, making it undoubtedly his. And beyond his writings, Terry’s advocacy of Alzheimer’s patients—standing as a key spokesperson for sufferers of the disease which ultimately caused his own death—and his forthright support for optional euthanasia reveal the writer’s endeavour to raise awareness and promote individual rights.
It is always a shame to see such an influential figure pass, but when that person is responsible for fictional worlds and journeys that millions of people have escaped into, enjoyed, and held dear, it becomes all the more saddening. Let’s just hope the lovable Mort took him on his way.
By Jordan Watson