“It is often said that before you die your life passes before your eyes. It is in fact true. It’s called living.”
“Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colours. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.”
In between pumping out his countless Discworld novels, Terry Pratchett (may he rest in peace) also found time to pen this delightful little oddity. It’s more or less a novelty book, perfect to read in short bursts if, like me, you can’t eat breakfast without leafing through a book or staring at your mobile phone. You probably need to like British humour and cats to get the most out of it, but if you enjoy both or, better still, own a cat, you’ll be cackling like crazy in recognition while reading this gem.
Far too many people these days have grown used to boring, mass-produced cats, which may bounce with health and nourishing vitamins but aren’t a patch on the good old cats you used to get. The Campaign for Real Cats wants to change all that by helping people recognise Real cats when they see them. Hence this book.
“Here and now, we are alive.”
– from Small Gods by Terry Pratchett
Some of my favourite Discworld quotes:
Every evil tyrant has a plan to rule the world. The good people don’t seem to have the knack.
– Guards! Guards!
Terry Pratchett passed away today. I’ve known about his Alzheimer’s for years but despite everything I was always hoping he’d be with us for a while longer, certainly longer than 66 which is no age to die at all. And while Alzheimer’s is a tragedy for anyone, how much more cruel it is to happen to one of the sharpest, brightest minds in writing.
1. Behemoth (The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov)
This list is not really in an order of preference, but Behemoth is probably my favourite fictional cat, and not just because I’ve read this book about 50 times over, in both Russian and English. He’s an enormous black cat who accompanies Satan on his visit to Soviet Moscow in the 1930s, and provides some of the novel’s best humourous passages. He walks on two legs, has a fondness for sarcasm, pistols and vodka, but is polite enough to offer to pay for the tram ride. What’s not to love?