Discworld always takes me to my happy place. I read all forty-something books in my mid-twenties, and have been revisiting my favourites, which constantly change, ever since. With each reread, as I apparently get older and wiser, I discover new things in Pratchett’s writing that please me.

This was my second read of Making Money, Pratchett’s 36th Discworld novel and second book starring the charismatic Moist Von Lipwig; a sort of add-on/spin-off mini-series to the unofficially named industrial revolution books.

None of what I’ve just written will make any sense to those unfamiliar with Discworld, but when a writer churns out 41 books in a series, it helps to have some kind of system to place them.

Peak Pratchett

Making Money is, in my opinion, the last book in what I would regard as the ‘peak Pratchett’ era. This era for me started with 1989’s Pyramids, and spanned 18 years and 30 books.

Like much of Pratchett’s writing, Making Money is a parody of something recognisable in real world history. This series plays on the industrial revolution and, specifically in this instance, the introduction of the banking system, the advent of paper money and the rejection of the gold standard. Our lead protagonist, having saved the post office and invented the postage stamp in Going Postal, is now charged with running the city’s bank. Or at least he’s looking after the dog who’s been put in charge of the bank.

Making Money is About Real People with Real Issues

Making Money is not just a run-of-the-mill fantasy book. Pratchett is not just a run-of-the-mill fantasy writer. If you open the book expecting deep Tolkien-esque high fantasy about goblins and trolls and wizards and adventures and history and language and the like, you’ll be disappointed. That’s not to say you won’t get this stuff, but that’s not the real value of Pratchett’s writing.

Tolkien’s depth comes from his lore and language, Pratchett’s depth comes from his characters; real characters with real problems, anxieties, motivations and flaws. Some of them are just… different. The lawyer just happens to be a troll; the city guard, a werewolf; and the post-office assistant, a golem.

Pratchett uses the fantasy backdrop of Discworld to advance the human story. It gives him a free pass to bend and break the laws of the universe in ways that make us laugh and learn.

A Turnip is Never the Answer

There’s one small scene in Making Money, which stuck with me more since my mental health first aider training, which demonstrates the point. The scene features a supremely talented artist (well, forger) who also experiences severe anxiety. An Igor (think Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein’s monster) decides to help by swapping this poor man’s personality with that of a turnip. Our forger-artist, while perhaps ‘cured’ of his anxiety, also loses his creativity in the process. Our main character, Moist, states the situation:

“…it would appear, regrettably, that by giving our friend the relaxed and hopeful attitude to life of, not to put too fine a point on it, a turnip, you have also given him the artistic abilities of, and I have no hesitation in using the term again, a turnip.”

The Igor, whose frame of reference is quite different from Moist’s, responds*:

“As a medical man, sir,” he said, “I must consider what is best for the patient. At the moment, he is happy and content and has no care in the world. Why would he give up all this for the mere facility with a pencil?”

Moist:

“That is an interesting and philosophical point”, he said, once again looking at Clamp’s happy yet somewhat unfocused expression. “But it seems to me that all those nasty little details were what made him, well, him.”

The operation is reversed, and we all get a little micro-lesson and moment of reflection as we consider what makes a person themselves, and what is the value of a life stripped of its struggles?

The scene is capped with the hilarious image of a turnip, presumably now experiencing anxiety, banging about in the jar.

It was not a happy turnip. It was blotchy. It was bouncing gently from one side of the jar to another, occasionally turning over.

Brilliant.

*For the benefit of readers, I’ve translated this from Igorian.

Making Money is about Marketing

People don’t like change. But make the change fast enough and you go from one type of normal to another.

Marketing, no matter what the textbooks tell you, is about people. To be a good marketer, you need to understand your audience. Everything else is just process.

Moist understands people better than anyone. One of his defining abilities isn’t lying or persuasion by itself, it’s accurately modelling how other people see the world. He doesn’t generally force people into doing things they don’t want to do. Instead, he discovers what they already want, fear, or believe, and frames events so they act accordingly. The result is genuine cooperation instead of reluctant compliance.

There’s a character, Hubert, who is a brilliant economist but paralysed by worry. Most people either mock him or try to reassure him. Moist notices that reassurance doesn’t work. Hubert’s anxiety is part of how his mind operates. Instead of trying to eliminate it, Moist gives Hubert useful problems to worry about. Hubert becomes incredibly productive because his obsessive thinking is finally aimed at real tasks.

In another example, when Moist inherits the bank, many senior employees expect him to fail. Rather than demanding loyalty, he lets them preserve their dignity. He understands that experienced professionals don’t want to feel conquered; they want to feel respected. He gives them opportunities to convince themselves they’re helping the institution rather than obeying an outsider.

And final example, the bank manager, Mr Bent. He believes his worth comes entirely from being an impeccable bank manager. Others see him as cold and mechanical. Moist notices something deeper. Mr Bent desperately needs certainty and rules because they’re how he survives the world. When the truth about Mr Bent’s past emerges, Moist doesn’t destroy him by exposing him. Instead, he gives him a way to rebuild his identity while preserving his dignity. Again, Moist succeeds because he understands what Mr Bent is protecting.

I’m sure it’s pure coincidence that the people skills Moist employs also helped him live a successful life as a con artist beforehand.

And finally, Making Money is About Numbers and Words

“You use words, and I’m told you do it well. But words are soft and can be pummelled into different meanings by a skilled tongue. Numbers are hard. Oh, you can cheat with them, but you can not change their nature. Three is three. You can not persuade it to be four, even if you give it a great big kiss.”

“Numbers are easy to outwit. They can’t think back. The people who devise the crosswords, now they are indeed devious.”

One of the cleverest things about Making Money is that, despite the title, it isn’t really about money. It’s about how numbers and words together create reality. Money only works because numbers are attached to stories that people believe.

Gold isn’t valuable until people agree it is. The numbers are the balances in the bank. The words are the promise that those numbers mean something. Without the promise, they’re meaningless figures. Without the figures, the promise can’t be measured.

Moist rarely solves problems by moving money around. He solves them by changing how people interpret events. A run on the bank isn’t stopped because more money appears. It’s stopped because people stop believing disaster is imminent.

Or is it about any of this?

What I’m thoroughly enjoying in rereading Pratchett is the discovery of new lessons and themes on each visit. I took more from Making Money this time around than I did on the first read. And I’m sure, if I get a third attempt in, another layer of Pratchett’s depth will be pealed away and new truths will be made clear to me.

Pratchett is the onion that keeps on giving.

Or turnip.