Wizards at Terry Pratchett's Unseen University can fight black magic, but can they withstand the grey array of targets, inspections and research assessments?
Sir Terence David John Pratchett was an English author, humorist, and satirist, best known for the Discworld series of 41 comic fantasy novels published between 1983–2015, and for the apocalyptic comedy novel Good Omens (1990), which he co-wrote with Neil Gaiman. Pratchett's first novel, The Carpet People, was published in 1971. The first Discworld novel, The Colour of Magic, was published in 1983, after which Pratchett wrote an average of two books a year. The final Discworld novel, The Shepherd's Crown, was published in August 2015, five months after his death. With more than 100 million books sold worldwide in 43 languages, Pratchett was the UK's best-selling author of the 1990s. He was appointed an Officer of the Order of the British Empire (OBE) in 1998 and was knighted for services to literature in the 2009 New Year Honours. In 2001 he won the annual Carnegie Medal for The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents, the first Discworld book marketed for children. He received the World Fantasy Award for Life Achievement in 2010. In December 2007 Pratchett announced that he had been diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer's disease. He later made a substantial public donation to the Alzheimer's Research Trust (now Alzheimer's Research UK, ARUK), filmed three television programmes chronicling his experiences with the condition for the BBC, and became a patron of ARUK. Pratchett died on 12 March 2015, at the age of 66.
There is a great scene in the 1999 Mike Judge film Office Space where the consultants (Bob and Bob – “The Bobs”) interview employees of Initech to determine what it is they do. This question is specifically asked, “What exactly … do you do?” Funny as hell.
Apply that theme to this short story from Pratchett’s Discworld universe. Lord Vetinari has sent over an inspector to find out what the Wizards at Unseen University actually do. Fans of the Discworld already know the answer to this question but it is fun to see how this plays out.
We also get some insight into how the Wizards view the necessity (?) of having students and what sort of man makes a good UU candidate – ““What is a university for if it isn’t to tell you that everything you think you know is wrong?”
Good times for fans. * This short story, as well as many of Pratchett’s short Discworld work is available online for free.
Archchancellor Ridcully tells his fellow wizards that the Patrician has assigned an inspector to the Unseen University. The wizards are not looking forward to someone inspecting them or worse, someone telling them what they should or should not do. It’s a funny and well-written but also very short story set in the Discworld series.
Inspectors are the bane of all academic institutions and even the the Unseen University is not safe from their "suggestions"
How to speed up meetings "Dean! We are going to move on and put this behind us!" Ridcully snapped.
"Excuse me, Archchancellor?" said Ponder Stibbons, who was Head of Inadvisably Applied Magic and also the university's Praelector, a position interpreted at UU as 'the one who gets given the tedious jobs'.
"Yes, Stibbons?"
"It may be a good idea to put it behind us before we move on, sir," said Stibbons. "That way it will be further behind us when we do, in fact, move."
The enemy is sighted "Anyway, gentlemen, his lordship has appointed a Mr A E Pessimal, a man of whom I know little, as Inspector of Universities. His job, I suspect, is to drag us kicking and no doubt screamin' into the Century of the Fruitbat."
"That was, in fact, the last century, Archchancellor," said Stibbons.
"Well, we are hard to drag and very good at kicking," said Ridculy. "He has made a few little, ah, suggestions for improvement..."
Just what do the wizards actually do? "Firstly," said Stibbons, "Mr Pessimal wants to know what we do here."
"Do? We are the premier college of magic!" said Ridcully.
"But do we teach? As such?"
"Of course, if no alternative presents itself," said the Dean. "We show 'em where the library is, give 'em a few chats and graduate the survivors. If they run into any problems, my door is always metaphorically open."
The cunning plan to foil all inspectors. "Well, gentlemen, I think I can gauge the sense of the meeting," said the Archchancellor, to break the silence. "I propose that we inform the inspector that we are giving his suggestions our urgent consideration."
They looked up in horror. He winked. They relaxed.
"That's right!" said the Lecturer in Recent Runes. "In depth!"
"Abyssal!" said the Dean.
"We'll form a committee!" said the Chair of Indefinite Studies.
And so life at the Unseen University returns to normal just in time for a second afternoon tea...
It’s Thursday afternoon in the Unseen University and the College Council are meeting. Chairing the meeting, Archchancellor Mustrum Ridcully is faced with a list of queries from the recently appointed Inspector of Universities, Mr A. E. Pessimal, which are addressed through Ponder Stibbons, Head of Inadvisably Applied Magic and the university’s Praelector. The Inspector wants to know: what exactly do the wizards do? The wizards want to know: when will the tea and chocolate biscuits arrive?
A Collegiate Casting-Out of Devilish Devices is a superb short story showcasing the sparkling brilliance of Terry Pratchett’s humour and sharp satiric sensibilities as he gleefully lampoons academia and higher education bureaucracy (lot of unintentional alliteration in that sssssssssentence!).
Unseen University and the wizards are among Sir Terry Pratchett’s finest creations in the Discworld. Get Ridcully, Ponder Stibbons, the Librarian (ook!), the Lecturer in Recent Runes, the Senior Wrangler, the Chair of Indefinite Studies and the incomparable Dean together and watch them come up with first class comedic dialogue. Among my favourites:
“His job, I suspect, is to drag us kicking and no doubt screamin’ into the Century of the Fruitbat.” “That was, in fact, the last century, Archchancellor,” said Stibbons. “Well, we are hard to drag and very good at kicking,” said Ridcully.
When Stibbons is informed that the wizards teach, he questions the notion and is told:
“Of course, if no alternative presents itself,” said the Dean. “We show ‘em where the library is, give ‘em a few chats and graduate the survivors. If they run into any problems, my door is always metaphorically open.” “Metaphorically, sir?” said Stibbons. “Yes,” said the Dean. “But technically, of course, it’s locked. Good grief, you don’t want ‘em just turning up.” “Explain to him that we don’t do things, Stibbons,” said the Lecturer in Recent Runes. “We are academics.”
I read A Collegiate Casting-Out grinning ear to ear, laughing several times. It’s Sir Terry at his funniest and most quotable and reminded me of everything I love about the Discworld: the brilliant wit, the fierce intelligence, and the liveliness Sir Terry gave his characters even when they’re just sat around a table talking. It’s such a perfect example of the series in general I’d say it’s a fine acid test for newcomers: if you read this and don’t enjoy it, Discworld’s probably not for you.
Recommended to everyone looking for some laughs to brighten up their day!
„- С какво се занимаваме ли?! Та ние сме най-главното учебно заведение за магия! - възкликна Ридкъли. - Но преподаваме ли? - Само ако не се представи някаква алтернатива – отвърна Деканът. - Показваме им къде е библиотеката, казваме им някоя и друга приказка и който оцелее, го дипломираме. Ако се сблъскват с проблеми, вратата ми е метафорично отворена. - Метафорично ли, сър? – попита Пондър. - Да. Но технически е заключена, разбира се. - Обясни му, че ние не се занимаваме с неща, Стибънс - рече лекторът по Съвременни руни. - Ние сме академици.“
Aahh, the ritual of afternoon tea. Everything stops when it's time for tea! I relished the memory of tea breaks in times gone by when I read about "Thursday afternoon meetings" where Terry Pratchett "learned the importance of listening for the tea trolley and the etiquette of the chocolate biscuits, surely an essential component of real committee work." This short story is a wry look at the bureaucracy and worth of higher education with plenty of Pratchett's brand of incisive humor.
An amusing vignette from the common room at Unseen University as the academics contemplate an inspection - their first it seems - and ruminate as to the purpose of academe. This being Pratchett it is full of in jokes and asides. I particularly liked the snide remark about nearby Braseneck College (a go getting competitor in the emerging education marketplace) having recently been "just a conjuring school". Echoes of the red brick unis in the UK looking down their noses at uppity former polytechnics.
BTW the inspector is a minor recurring Pratchett character - Mr AE Pessimal, auditor extraordinaire. This being Pratchett Pessimal itself is a play on words, it is an obscure word meaning the opposite of optimal.
A great short story for fans of the Discworld's wizards, free to read online. Definitely worth checking out. An inspector at the Unseen University? What a hassle!
Lots of sniggering throughout. I have always been overly fond of the wizards, especially Ridcully, so it was lovely to have an insight to more of their "academic" ways.
Okay, I admit it. I'd read a shopping list scrawled on the back of a fag packet if Terry Pratchett had written it, and probably enjoy it. I've always been a huge, huge fan. He's possibly the main reason for my love of reading and therefore in a roundabout way responsible for the existence of my Deathsworn Arc series:-
Plug over - I promise!
Before I started reading Terry Pratchett's Discworld series my main reads were horror. I read a lot of random horror and ghost stories and so forth, but mainly Stephen King. They were really engrossing, and had real dramatic tension. King's were often slow-burners, but once you got into them they were hard to put down. What Stephen King's books didn't do, was have me laughing out loud. Yes, yes, I'd be a pretty sick individual if I burst into hysterics when Gage from Pet Sematary arrived back at the house and started trying to kill people. Great book actually, I recently watched 'The Shining' and when the old black dude mentioned 'built on an Indian Burial ground' I groaned internally. Really, that film is more 'King' than a dog called Cujo being buried at the Pet Semetary only to head over to Salem's Lot in Desperation, make Rose Madder and then... Oh forget IT...
Anyway, back to this short story. I always loved the wizards from Discworld. The previous Archchancellor Galder Weatherwax was great. It was fun to have a relative of Granny in Unseen University, but Mustrum Ridcully really brought a new breath of life to the University. His character seems so indefinably, yet so accurately academic that he's perfect for the sort of place UU is. It's not some polytechnic, it's the Discworld equivalent of a Russell Group University. From this story there are some great characters missing actually. The ancient wizard who could never hear properly who used to go around in a Bath Chair for one. I think he died a few books ago. Then of course there's out beloved Bursar who went completely mad at some point.
We often see the wizards in some sort of action or tense drama situation. However I almost felt they were really at their best here. The wizards of UU if I had to sum them up are really all about NOT doing any magic, but climbing up the rungs on the hierarchy of wizardry, while stamping on the fingers of those below and pulling at the ankles of those above. All the while, enjoying big dinners and relatively lazy days. The wizards would argue that, though they don't do much. What they do DO is frightfully important (eating big dinners for example). That arrogance which perhaps permeates British Academia is very prevalent here. From this short story you get a sense that maybe Terry Pratchett was involved quite deeply in the Academic world because the wizards attitudes seem so accurate. They seem a glove fit for old British academia.
This story is heavily dialogue driven. It's a masterclass in writing really, because every wizard has a distinct personality and speech pattern. They are all recognizable entirely without any gimmicky verbal ticks or accents.
If there was anything I COULD complain about this piece, it's that it's so short. It was like a window into a world I left behind some time ago. A world which I'd like to revisit, but ultimately can't. I've read all the Discworld and most of the Science of the Discworld. Most of them several times. I also feel like by the time we had 'Raising Steam' and 'The Shepherd's Crown' the Discworld had changed and been so refined it had become something it wasn't. The Colour of Magic and The Light Fantastic weren't big on plot. They seemed like very random scenes, sketches almost strung together into a story. It was the humor that drew you in and left you wanting more. The latest Discworld books are more serious I think. By the time we had Raising Steam and Snuff Sir Terry was tackling some serious issues. The books were more grown up and much more serious. They were just as good, in many ways they were BETTER than the earliest books, but I could see the series coming to a conclusion, even if Sir Terry Pratchett hadn't been struck down with a vile, horrible illness, years before his time.
For that reason I really enjoyed this. It reminded me of so many hilarious 'Wizards' scenes I've read over the years, that despite it's short length, it left me smiling for a long time. I'd love to read more of these Discworld short stories. Reading this felt like visiting a dear friend, who had sadly departed and whom I didn't think I'd get to enjoy the company of again.
A Discworld short story. Real World problems in the Discworld. Humour lacking but still interesting. Anything regarding those bloody University Wizards will always hold my attention, if only because I don't wish to miss any explosion.
This was cute and a little bit funny, but it was also very short and it didn’t really have any substance. It was basically a meeting of the Wizards of Unseen University in which they discuss an inspection report for their university. Alas, Rincewind was nowhere to be found, nor was he even mentioned.
Pratchett held a keen understanding of academia, as well as of politics, policing, law, assassination, and another myriad subjects that his background wouldn't suggest he was properly educated to address. Clearly the man Terry Pratchett was insufficiently educated to produce such brilliant witty novels. He was no doubt a front for some other writer who had an extensive advanced education in various specialties. It's the only reasonable explanation.
Hmmm. I wonder if I can get a grant to research the possibility?
First time reading this and another gem from doing a complete Discworld reread. A short story around the wizards at Unseen University and government bodies interfering.
“Make ourselves attractive to students?” said the Archchancellor. “Mr Stibbons, the whole idea of a university is that it should be hard to get into. Remember Dean Rouster? He used to set traps to stop students attending his lectures! ‘I’ll tap talent from all backgrounds,’ he used to say, ‘but a lad who can’t spot a tripwire is no good to me!’ He reckoned any student who didn’t open a door very carefully and look where he was putting his feet would only be a burden to the profession. You see, trying to be nice to students means you end up with courses like comparative fretwork and graduates who think ‘thank you’ is one word and can look at a sign sayin’ ‘Human Resources Department’ without detecting a whiff of brimstone.”
Bureaucracy and unpopular leadership decisions - two things, that would always be in the way of the smooth operation of most things, including the work done in the Unseen University. A very quick and somehow amusing read.
'Bring ‘em in stupid, send them away clever, that’s the UU way!'
"Ook."
'If they were clever already, they wouldn’t need to go to university!'
Students, hey?!
'The whole idea of a university is that it should be hard to get into.'
I utterly concur.
'Some of them arrive thinkin’ they’re clever, of course,' said the Chair of Indefinite Studies.
And those professors holding indeterminate chairs?
But what is this story about?
Well, resorting to 'definition-by-hubbub', it's a thaumaturgical response to the diothumic threat of school inspections on life terms of professorship, deanship and chairship, and of obviating the need to answer such questions as: 'But what do you actually do?' and 'Do you actually teach at this university'. Gods forbid! What nonsense!
The professors pondered the inadvisability of answering any of Ponder Stibbons's questions definitively, and then, when all the biscuits were gone, looked down at the empty plates with a sense of replete defeat. They tabled the issue for the meeting the year after next.