The Long Earth - Terry Pratchett and Stephen Baxter

What an absolutely lovely book. I don't normally feel a need to talk politely about books, but really, this one was a pleasure to read.

It's grand, epic sci-fi, of the finest kind. There's not nary an alien warship, or Devilish consciousness to drive the plot. Just the unending curiosity that's so peculiar to human science. This is Jules Verne with a 21st Century outlook on science. It's two people on an exploration in the name of scientific discovery, with none of these peculiarly unconvincing external motives that writers nowadays seem to think a story needs to be interesting (think reigniting the dying sun with a nuclear bomb for one of the more ridiculous 'scientific' premises out there).

That's not to say there aren't cliches; There are cliches ten a penny. But these two authors are veterans (5 pages of other titles by the authors), and what's more, they complement each other perfectly and the cliches don't feel such. Baxter's scientific rigourousness and Pratchett's rational fantasy, Pratchett's charm and Baxter's directness, Baxter's serious prose and Pratchett's humour. The review on the Guardian website said this was more Baxter's work than Pratchett's. I thought that they wrote about equal amounts. Their different writing styles are fairly obvious. Pratchett likes labyrinthine sentences and doesn't like to use full-stops so much anymore. Baxter's sentences tend to be short and distinct and not very humorous. Perhaps more of the prose was Baxter's, but there are ideas and character's (the fascination with nuns, the talking drinks dispenser, Sally) that are so patently Pratchett that sometimes it felt more like someone else writing Pratchett's work for him.

Much like Pratchett's Nation, this is a celebration of life in all its multifarious (and occasionally multifactious) forms.

Serious Spoilers Review

Okay, so the first thing I want to talk about, and the thing that occurred to me most while reading this book, was how lovely is it the idea that wildlife is so friendly in worlds without humans? Obviously the wildlife is not friendly to each other, but when the humans arrive, they treat with curiosity the creatures they don't know or understand. I think this is probably the thing that makes this book so ultimately charming. These animals aren't present to serve narrative interest (well they are), they are here because that's what animals would do.

There were certain hints to the historical presence of elves (or is that elfs, these aren't Tolkein's elves) and trolls early on in the story that tie in nicely. Elves fear of iron being something that's woven directly into the rules of stepping.

Almost every biological and/or evolutionary and/or behaviourial description of the creatures in this book is a treat, especially so when it's turned around on the humans. It's nice to see humans lowered to the rank of animal, rather than self-placed on the self-made pedestal of uniquity. Having said that, the plot is driven mostly by Lobsang's desire to understand and his definition of that being almost exclusively the human trait.

The almost universal presence of elephants made me smile every time they were mentioned.

Change of topic: The nuns' almost all peversaive presence in Joshua's thoughts was a laugh, culminating in the only real laugh in the book: The scientific description of a nun given by First Person Singular.

Pratchett's other collusion for literature (Good Omens) also had a fascination with nuns, and I'd always assumed that was Neil Gaimen's doing, what with his obsession with Christianity and religious symbols. But after this book I'm thinking it's Pratchett's obessession, and I think this book makes it obviously clear.

They are a people so shrouded in symbolism that they appear as one, and yet it's not until you meet one that you can realise how bloody normal they are. He is also a man opposed to many aspects of organised religion, and yet the formation of the female monastic life has clearly produced undeniably good self- and societal- benefits. There's nothing like a bit of conflict of ideas to liven up the world.

In fact, this preoccupation with comparing appearance, humanity and life leads me to my only gripe about the book. Joshua has a contradictory character, supposedly anti-social, and yet almost anything but. You can write this off as another aspect of life: people are naturally contradictory, doing things differently to what they say. The writer's acknowledge this contradiction a few times, but to me it always felt like a back-track and edit situation rather than an intentional idea.

Still, minor gripe in an otherwise wonderful book by two authors who contrast in a most engaging way.