#BookSnapSunday is a weekly bookish Instagram meme hosted here at Gum trees and Galaxies.com, if you would like to join in please feel free to leave a link to your post in the comments below. All you have to do is post an image of a book. Happy reading.
So this weeks #BookSnapSunday features one of my favourite escape reads, a book from the wonderful Discworld series by Terry Pratchett.
I have been meaning to re-read Witches Abroad for awhile and this week seemed like the right time to escape on a road trip across the Discworld with Granny weatherwax, Nanny Ogg, Magrat and Nanny’s cat Greebo. I needed something light to read and Pratchett’s exploration of fairy tales seemed like a good idea. This is my favourite re-telling of Cinderella. This one also features my favourite literary cat, Nanny Ogg’s monstrous tom Greebo. I could post about Witches Abroad or I could just post a few quotes from the oh so quotable Pratchett:
“Stories don’t care who takes part in them. All that matters is that the story gets told, that the story repeats. Or, if you prefer to think of it like this: stories are a parasitical life form, warping lives in the service only of the story itself.”
“It pays to advertise,” Nanny agreed. “This is Greebo. Between you and me, he’s a fiend from hell.” “Well, he’s a cat,” said Mrs. Gogol, generously. “It’s only to be expected.”
“Under the table, Greebo sat and washed himself. Occasionally he burped.
Vampires have risen from the dead, the grave and the crypt, but never managed it from the cat.”
“Because stories are important.
People think that stories are shaped by people. In fact, it’s the other way around.
Stories exist independently of their players. If you know that, the knowledge is power.
Stories, great flapping ribbons of shaped space-time, have been blowing and uncoiling around the universe since the beginning of time. And they have evolved. The weakest have died and the strongest have survived and they have grown fat on the retelling…stories, twisting and blowing through the darkness.”
“Then Magrat, who in Nanny Ogg’s opinion had an innocent talent for treading on dangerous ground, said: “I wonder if we did the right thing? I’m sure it was a job for a handsome prince.” “Hah!” said Granny, who was riding ahead. “And what good would that be? Cutting your way through a bit of bramble is how you can tell he’s going to be a good husband, is it? That’s fairy godmotherly thinking, that is! Goin’ around inflicting happy endings on people whether they wants them or not, eh?”
“You can‘t go around building a better world for people. Only people can build a better world for people. Otherwise it‘s just a cage.”
“No. There’s a billion places like home. But only one of ’em’s where you live.”