Book Review: Raising Steam by Terry Pratchett
I am, as I’ve said a few times, a shameless Terry Pratchett fangirl. If it wasn’t so damn difficult to procure the goats and such a hassle to clean up the blood afterwards, I’d have an altar to him in the living room. I make do with his books instead.
That said, I find myself hoping that Raising Steam is one of Sir Pterry’s intermittent duds – because the alternative is that his embuggerance is eating his storytelling ability. Not that this stops Raising Steam from being head and shoulders about almost everything else out there. It’s just that Sir Pterry is usually head, shoulders and torso above everything else.
It’s a Moist von Lipwig book, which means lots of Vetinari (good), cameos by various members of the Watch (also good), Commander Vimes being badass in the nicest possible way. It helps a lot if you’ve read Thud! Also The Fifth Elephant. Those two books are probably the ones Raising Steam is the spiritual sequel of, although there’s a fair amount of the book that draws on key events in the previous Ankh-Morpork novels. It probably stands alone – I can’t be sure for the simple reason that I’ve read all the others – but it’s a lot richer when you have read the others, particularly the later ten or so. Roughly.
The problem I had is that while all the usual elements of a Pterry book are there, for the first half of the book everything seems just a little out of focus, as though he didn’t quite have the characters and voice in place. Somewhere about halfway through, everything clicks into place and Raising Steam becomes impossible to put down and the story is suddenly compelling.
As always with Pterry what the book is about isn’t what the book is about. In Raising Steam it’s on the surface about steam engines – particularly trains – Discworld style. Underneath is all about questions of who has power and who should have power. Dwarf schisms factor in heavily as does the Low King of Uberwald and matters of Dwarf sex, particularly the question of whether or not the other dwarf is male or female. Inevitably Lord Vetinari’s perspective wins because Lord Vetinari is the ultimate scary-competent benevolent (mostly) dictator – but the question of whether he’s correct still lingers.
In a lot of ways Pterry’s political points are rather more overt than usual, often – particularly with the deep dwarfs – edging into clumsiness. He never stoops to the “this is the Message and you will respect it” bullshit, but there’s still a bit too much hammering the point home for my liking – although I doubt the politically correct sorts will see what’s being said (they wouldn’t like it. At all).
All told, I’d rank this one somewhere at the bottom of the Pterry scale – which is a solid 4-5 star rating with lots of food for thought after you’ve finished the book. And I really hope Sir Pterry just had a dud this time around.