Bobby reads Discworld: Mort

Last year, towards the beginning of quarantine, I had the very stupid idea to start reading all of the Discworld books in release order, a thing everyone tells you not to do. After reading a pretty okay first book and two thoroughly enjoyable followups, I started on Mort, the first Death novel and one of the places new readers are recommended to start. Then I got distracted a third of the way in, lost my momentum, and stopped because ADHD is like that. But now I’ve finished it! Here are thoughts on the book, since I did this for the first three.

Mort tells the story of Mort, an awkward, gangly teenage boy who ends up becoming Death’s apprentice. However, after some time on the job, Mort decides to go rogue and save the life of a teenage princess whose soul he was supposed to take. This, of course, unbalances the fabric of reality, and the rest of the book becomes a race to find a way to restore balance while also keeping Princess Keli alive.

The central premise is a strong one. Death was always one of the most memorable parts of the first three books even as a minor character, and now we get to learn more about his metaphysical corner of the Discworld universe through Mort’s eyes and see the ramifications if “The Duty” isn’t done. It’s not hard to see why Mort is recommended as a good starting point for the series–it’s easily the strongest entry I’ve read so far. It blends the witty writing and fantastical adventuring of The Light Fantastic with the strong central coming of age story of Equal Rites to create what feels like the most complete package yet, and it makes it look easy. The book is constantly funny and the plot is well constructed, but the book also cares about its central characters and their personal growth beyond their ability to generate jokes.

Still, for as much fun as the book is, it feels like Pratchett is still unsure of how deep he wants to explore his themes. This is my one complaint with the book.

The best example is probably a scene in the first half of the book where Mort is sent out on his first solo assignment, having to perform The Duty on an elderly witch whose time is up. The scene is extremely striking. There’s this sense of dread because the witch knows it’s her time, but she’s completely unfazed by her fate as she locks up her house and finishes the last of her business in the living world. Mort, meanwhile, is crying his eyes out because he’s got to take this nice old lady’s soul after she dies in front of him and he thinks he’s going to mess it up. So she serenely leads him outside and guides him through the process herself.

The thing is… I think this scene is just supposed to be funny? I mean it is funny, but I found it to be a really striking portrayal of death more than anything. Contrasting the understandably scared point of view character with someone older and wiser who doesn’t fear death. But then the witch’s soul leaves her body, turns into a young version of herself, flirts with Mort, and goes on her way, off to do whatever it is disembodied souls do. The emotional impact of this memorable scene is undercut as I’m reminded that no, this is still a comedy book, and the last bit shifts the focus away from exploring death as a concept and towards Mort’s puberty and the fact that he’s starting to notice girls. The irony of their behavior earlier in the scene is probably supposed to be more funny than dramatic. And for the most part, the rest of the death scenes in the book lean firmly into the comedy, rather than really exploring the nature of death and what it means to pass on.

Death himself is definitely starting to grow as a character, though, and I’m happy to see that. This is a far cry from the recurring baddie who wanted to take Rincewind’s life in the first book. Death spends much of the book not doing his job, which he’s grown tired of, instead trying to indulge in human life and figure out what it means to be happy. He does still serve as the “final boss” of the book in his climactic duel with Mort, but this is resolved peacefully, and in the heartwarming denouement it’s clear that the guy’s grown a lot more sympathetic.

I also liked how this book rationalized the whole “Death hates wizards” thing from the first couple books as a superstition. It’s all a matter of perspective. We were following Rincewind, a wizard, and wizards think that Death has it out for them. But now that we’re getting to know Death better, we know that that’s not really true. (Oh, and speaking of Rincewind, he makes a cameo in this one, which is fun.) Mort comments on this in his inner monologue early in the book, but decides that he won’t correct anyone because people need to believe in things.

The magic in this book is also as entertaining as ever. The Actual Magic is great, of course, such as the recurring image of Death’s library full of magical biographies that are constantly being filled out with the details of every living person’s life. But a big part of the book is also about how Death can get away with a lot because peoples’ brains simply refuse to comprehend what they’re seeing when he’s around. He can walk around out in the open because the average person doesn’t think he’s supposed to be there, and therefore they don’t notice him at all. Similarly, the non-wizards struggle to recognize that Princess Keli is still alive after Mort saves her because it contradicts the way things are supposed to be.

There’s also a bit of romance in the book. It’s a minor element, but it’s there. Mort, as an average heterosexual teenage boy in a fantasy story, falls in love with the stereotypical Princess Keli the first time he sees her, and that’s why he saves her life. But he spends more time with Ysabell, Death’s adopted human daughter who’s been stuck as a teenager for decades due to the way time doesn’t flow in Death’s domain. And in the end, Mort doesn’t marry the stuck up blonde princess he spent the whole book trying to save, but rather the chubby, frumpy Ysabell who actually cared about his wellbeing (and, actually, saved his life). It’s one of those things that might not be particularly groundbreaking today, but it feels pleasantly subversive for a book from the ‘80s.

On the subject of that ending, though, we’re back to themes that don’t feel fully explored. A major theme of the book is that death is inevitable, that The Duty must be carried out without failure. You can’t fight fate, and you can’t change that system. It’s not fair, it just is. If you try to change things–say, by saving a young princess from her appointed demise–the very fabric of reality will force things back into their proper place. Death is so inevitable, in fact, that when Death stops doing his job the universe just starts morphing Mort into Death II. But in the climax, as Death duels with Mort to decide his fate, Ysabell points out that Death had already cheated the system by keeping her and Albert (Death’s personal servant, who’s revealed late in the book to actually be a powerful wizard and the founder of Ankh-Morpork’s Unseen University) in his domain where they’ll never age or die. When this hypocrisy is pointed out, Death acquiesces. He flips over Mort’s hourglass to give him more time and works out a deal with the gods to change Mort and Princess Keli’s fates.

This lets the book have its happy ending, which I thought was a really nice note to end on. But I’m also not quite sure what it Says. Everyone has to die… but Death is allowed to fudge it a little I guess? Where does he draw the line, exactly? The line was already blurred by Ysabell and Albert, but that exception to the rule was justified by saying that being trapped in amber in Death’s domain is no way to live. I like that Death ultimately becomes sympathetic to the plight of the humans in his life and tries to help them out, but the resolution feels a little too easy. In the space of this book at least, it feels like there’s no real repercussions whatsoever for Death’s decision to save Mort and Keli, like it’s just a thing he could have always done on a whim, and it all just works out perfectly. What’s stopping him from giving tons of people extra time if the gods are so willing to facilitate him bending the rules? It feels like the book plays around with the bitter truth that everyone has to die, but instead of really sitting with that, it decides to bend the rules to give everyone a happy ending and avoid souring the overall tone of the book.

But hey, there are like 40 Discworld novels, and four more in the Death subseries. It’s probably a good thing the series doesn’t peak this early, because that means I’ve still got plenty to look forward to on the horizon as Pratchett continues to find his voice. And in spite of my reservations about the Themes in this one, Mort is a good book. A very good book! Like I said, it’s easily the best, most cohesive entry in the series yet. It feels like I’m really getting into Actual Discworld now and not the weird Proto-Discworld of the first couple books, which is a good feeling.

Also because I’d heard about the canceled Disney animated adaptation of Mort I totally just pictured him as Linguini from Ratatouille the whole time.

Next I get to return to the funny wizard that started it all with Sourcery. I’m excited to see how the third Rincewind novel shakes out with Pratchett’s style already having grown so much in the first four books.

Editor's note: Unfortunately I have yet to get around to finishing Sourcery, so for now "Bobby reads Discworld" ends here. I'll get back to it someday, though.