Margaret Note Spelling
Small beautiful events are what life is all about.
I was recently reading Terry Pratchett's Night Watch, and I ran across this passage--it's long been one of my favorite ones of all time, just because of its brilliant relevance to the way you worldbuild cities and civilizations. I had to share it.
For context, it's the night of the revolution in the city of Ankh-Morpork. Vimes, the main character, is a policeman.
It's the best illustration I've ever seen of the complexity of a population's sheer day-to-day survival--things that are so easy to forget when building a fantasy city, or even world. Terry Pratchett just nailed it here. So much energy in the world is already going to be devoted to daily existence even without the addition of our epic, earthshattering events. If we just act like it's not there, our entire world is going to lack a strong foundation.
For context, it's the night of the revolution in the city of Ankh-Morpork. Vimes, the main character, is a policeman.
Vimes climbed back up the barricade. The city beyond was dark again, with only the occasional chink of light from a shuttered window. By comparison, the streets of the Republic were ablaze.
In a few hours, the shops out there were expecting deliveries, and they weren’t going to arrive. The government couldn’t sit this one out. A city like Ankh-Morpork was only two meals away from chaos at the best of times.
Every day maybe a hundred cows died for Ankh-Morpork. So did a flock of sheep and a herd of pigs, and the gods alone knew how many ducks, chickens, and geese. Flour? He’d heard it was eighty tons, and about the same amount of potatoes, and maybe twenty tons of herring. He didn’t particularly want to know this kind of thing, but once you started having to sort out the everlasting traffic problem, these were the kind of facts that got handed to you.
Every day, forty thousand eggs were laid for the city. Every day, hundreds, thousands of carts and boats and barges converged on the city with fish and honey and oysters and olives and eels and lobsters. And then think of the horses dragging this stuff, and the windmills…and the wool coming in, too, every day, the cloth, the tobacco, the spices, the ore, the timber, the cheese, the coal, the fat, the tallow, the hay EVERY DAMN DAY…
And that was now. Back home, the city was twice as big…
Against the dark screen of night, Vimes had a vision of Ankh-Morpork. It wasn’t a city, it was a process, a weight on the world that distorted the land for hundreds of miles around. People who’d never see it in their whole life nevertheless spent that life working for it. Thousands and thousands of green acres were part of it, forests were part of it. It drew in and consumed…
…and gave back the dung from its pens, and the soot from its chimneys, and steel, and saucepans, and all the tools by which its food was made. And also clothes, and fashions, and ideas, and interesting vices, songs, and knowledge, and something which, if looked at in the right light, was called civilization.
It's the best illustration I've ever seen of the complexity of a population's sheer day-to-day survival--things that are so easy to forget when building a fantasy city, or even world. Terry Pratchett just nailed it here. So much energy in the world is already going to be devoted to daily existence even without the addition of our epic, earthshattering events. If we just act like it's not there, our entire world is going to lack a strong foundation.
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