Some excerpts and quotes from "A hat full of sky", the second book in the Discworld mini-series about Tiffany Aching and the Nac Mac Feegles. I love these books to death. Sweet, incredibly funny, genuine, warm, wise, earthly, present, beautiful. Beware, there are lots of... Well, not spoilers, really, but the excerpts are big and long and if you like the first three or so, I'd advise you to get up, go out and buy the first book, which is called "The Wee Free Men". Written by Terry Pratchett.
PS: To you weirdos who don't yet know what a Nac Mac Feegle is, well, this is for you.
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"They granted wishes - not the magical fairytale three wishes, the ones that always go wrong in the end, but ordinary, everyday ones. (...) 'I wish this rain would clear up' was probably OK, because the Feegles couldn't do actual magic, but she had learned to be careful not to wish for anything that might be achievable by some small, determined, strong, fearless and fast men who were also not above giving someone a good kicking if they felt like it. Wishes needed thought. She was never likely to say, out loud, 'I wish that I could marry a handsome prince,' but knowing that if you did you'd probably open the door to find a stunned prince, a tied-up priest and a Nac Mac Feegle grinning cheerfully and ready to act as Best Man definitely made you watch what you said."
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" 'You're the Big Man, Rob Anybody, so it's fittin' ye should be the first tae do the writin',' said Jeannie. I canna hae a husband who canna even write his ain name. I showed you the letters, did I not?'
'Aye, wumman, the nasty, loopy, bendy things!' growled Rob. 'I dinnae trust that Q, that's a letter that has it in for a man. That's a letter with a sting, that one!' "
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"She waved the cup under Rob's nose. He sighed, and looked away. Jeannie stood up quickly. 'Wullie! Big Yan! Come quick!' she yelled. 'He willnaie tak' a drink! I think he's
deid!'
'Ach, this is no' the time for strong licker,' said Rob Anybody. 'My heart is heavy, wumman.'
'Quickly now!' Jeannie shouted down the hole... '
He's deid and still talkin'!'
'She's the hag o' these hills,' said rob, ignoring her. 'Just like her granny. She tells the hills what they are, every day. She has them in her bones. She holds 'em in her heart. Wi'out her, I dinnae like tae think o' the future.' "
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"
Sheep's wool, Jolly Sailor tobacco and turpentine... had been the smells of the shepherding hut, and the smell of Granny Aching. Such things have a hold on people that goes right to the heart. Tiffany only had to smell them now to be back there, in the warmth and silence and safety of the hut. It was the place she had gone to when she was upset, and the place she had gone to when she was happy. And Granny Aching would always smile and make tea and say nothing. And nothing bad could happen in the shepherding hut. It was a fort against the world. Even now, after Granny had gone, Tiffany still liked to go up there.
Tiffany stood there, while the wind blew over the turf and sheep bells
clonked in the distance. (...) A blue butterfly, blown off course by a gust, settled on Tiffany's shoulder, opened and shut its wings once or twice, then fluttered away. Granny Aching had never been at home with words. She collected silence like other people collected string. But she had a way of saying nothing that said it all. Tiffany stayed for a while, until her tears had dried, and then went off back down the hill, leaving the everlasting wind to curl around the wheels and whistle down the chimney of the pot-bellied stove.
Life went on."
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" 'It's very sad, him being all alone like that. Something should be done for him,' said Tiffany.
'Yes. We're doing it for him,' said Miss Level. 'And Mrs Tussy keeps a friendly eye on him.'
'Yes, but it shouldn't have to be us, should it?'
'Who should it
have to be?' said Miss Level.
'Well, what about this son he's always talking about?' said Tiffany.
'Young Toby? He's been dead for fifteen years. And Mary was the old man's daughter, she died quite young. Mr Weavall is very short-sighted, but he sees better in the past.'
Tiffany didn't know what to reply except: 'It shouldn't be like this.'
'There isn't a way things
should be. There's just what happens, and what we do.'
'Well, couldn't you help him by magic?'
'I see to it that he's in no pain, yes,' said Miss Level.
'But that's just herbs.'
'It's still magic. Knowing things is magical, if other people don't know them.'"
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" 'Really, you might make an
effort. Honestly, I don't know what's the matter with all of you!'
I do, Tiffany thought. You're like a dog worrying sheep all the time. You don't give them time to obey you and you don't let them know when they've done things right. You just keep barking."
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" 'Do you have a plan?'
'Oh, aye!' Rob Anybody rummaged around in his spog, which is a leather bag most Feegles have hanging from their belt. The contents are usually a mystery, but sometimes include interesting teeth. He flourished a much-folded piece of paper. Miss Level carefully unfolded it.
' "PLN"?' she said.
'Aye,' said Rob proudly. 'We came prepared! Look, it's
written doon. Pee El Ner. Plan.' "
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" 'Rain don't fall on a witch if she doesn't want it to, although personally I prefer to get wet and be thankful.'
'Thankful for what?' said Tiffany.
'That I'll get dry later.' "
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"It was one of those strange days in late February when it's a little warmer than it should be and, although there's wind, it seems to be all round the horizons and never quite where you are."
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"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. The words ran through Tiffany's mind as she watched the sheep, and she found herself fill up with joy - at the new lambs, at life, at everything. Joy is to fun what the deep sea is to a puddle. It's a feeling inside that can hardly be contained. It came out as laughter."
