Small Gods by Terry Pratchett

Publisher: Gollancz/Penguin Audio (Audiobook – 1993)

Series: Discworld – Book 13

Length: 9 hours and 55 minutes (Planer version)/11 hours and 38 minutes (Serkis version)

My Rating: 5 out of 5 stars

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Thanks to an excellent road trip, I managed to revisit several awesome entries from the iconic Discworld series by the legendary Terry Pratchett, and it is time to highlight one of the very best books that Pratchett wrote, Small Gods.

I have never made any secret of the fact that I love all things Terry Pratchett, as the Discworld books were the formative series of my youth.  A massively popular collection of loosely connected novels set on a flat world carried through space on the back of four elephants atop a giant turtle, the Discworld books present a range of unique fantasy adventures backed with exceptional comedy and satire.  This series is so much fun, and I honestly love every single Discworld book, having read them all multiple times, usually while laughing myself silly.  Indeed, I am such a big fan of this series that I named my blog after a location in the universe.  Despite my overwhelming love for all things Discworld, I haven’t reviewed too many of the books on this blog, with Moving Pictures and The Last Continent previously being the only exception.  However, thanks to some great road trips giving me opportunities for revisiting some classics, I have recently published reviews for Guards! Guards! and an additional review for Moving Pictures.  I also recently re-listened to the impressive and thoughtful 13th entry in the series, Small Gods. An outstanding standalone novel that seeks to blend religious commentary with Pratchett’s strong humour and complex satire, Small Gods is one of the more thoughtful and moving Discworld books and is a must read for all fans of the franchise.

Floating through space on the back of a giant turtle, the Discworld is a place of magic, wonders, strange creatures and, unfortunately for the mortals just trying to live their lives, gods.  Instead of the wise and beatific beings we hope them to be, the gods of the Disc are a capricious and vain lot, empowered by the belief of their human worshippers.  But what happens when a mighty god loses his believers?

The militant nation of Omnia is an empire dedicated to the fervent worship of the Great God Om, an all-powerful being who knows all, sees all and is the only true god in the world.  The problem is none of that is true.  Instead, Om is a self-obsessed god among many, who barely pays attention to the people fighting in his name.  More importantly, he is currently residing in the body of a tortoise, stripped of nearly all his divine power, and the only person who can hear him is a simple novice, Brutha, who isn’t fully convinced that the talking tortoise smiting him with tiny thunderbolts is his god.

Determined to get back on top and find out why he lost his power, Om recruits Brutha as his unlikely prophet.  However, Brutha has his own problems as the sinister head of Omnia’s Quisition, Vorbis, has taken an interest in him.  Forced to accompany Vorbis on a diplomatic mission, Brutha soon begins to understand that the world is a far bigger place than he realised, and that there is something very wrong at the heart of his nation.

As the tides of history take Brutha and Om into strange new places, the two find themselves encountering unexpected dangers, including dangerous ideas, sinister eagles, rebels determined to prove that the world isn’t round, deranged philosophers and the small gods that lurk in the dark places.  To survive, Brutha will need to have faith in his god, but more importantly, Om will need to have faith in Brutha, especially when his own religion is turned against them.

After yet another re-read, Small Gods remains one of my favourite Discworld novels, and this is one of the very best examples of Terry Pratchett’s unique style and imagination.  A hilarious, yet thought-provoking read that cleverly dissects religion, divinity and people’s beliefs, Small Gods quickly grabs your full attention and refuses to let go until it’s powerful, terminal end.

I have so much love for the outstanding narrative that Pratchett pulled together for Small Gods, which tells one of the more unique standalone tales in the Discworld series.  I must admit, even after many reads, I am still very impressed that Pratchett decided to examine the nature of religion and belief through the lens of a hilarious odd-couple story that evolves into a road trip narrative.  Starting off on a very entertaining note with the unsuspecting new prophet of Om, Brutha, encountering his god in the form of a small, battered tortoise, Pratchett does a good job of introducing the nation of Omnia and its place in the wider setting.  This proves to be an effective start to the book, and a lot of the early themes and wider issues surrounding the nation of Omnia are well set-up.  You also get a great examination of the book’s three main characters, and their compelling early interactions in Omnia sets up a lot of the book’s character-driven narratives.  After this excellent introduction, Small Gods’ plot then moves to the bordering nation of Ephebe, which proves to be an intriguing centre of the novel, not only because it has some of the more entertaining sequences, but also because it begins to expand on some of the ideas from the front of Small Gods and you are given a good understanding of both Om’s situation and Brutha’s growth as a character.

The plot of Small Gods takes a powerful turn around halfway through, when Brutha helps further Vorbis’s schemes, only to then attempt to flee and do the right thing.  However, thanks to the influence of a rival god and unexpected technology, Brutha and Om are inadvertently stranded in the desert with a helpless Vorbis.  The following extensive scenes in the desert are probably the best parts of Small Gods, especially as Brutha begins to think for himself, and the philosophical clashes he has with Om set him up as the protagonist both the reader and the Omnians need.  Pratchett really dives into what it is to be human and divine in this section of the book, and I deeply appreciate the rich character development featured within these sections of the plot.  These desert scenes become even more impactful when Pratchett throws in a major obstacle for Brutha that threatens to push him over the edge into despair.  You really feel for Brutha as he has his crisis of faith, only to maintain his humanity in the last confrontation with Vorbis.  The subsequent scene on the metal turtle was very tense, and while I know some people dislike the end of Vorbis, I thought it was a very clever sequence, especially as Pratchett set up the hunting eagle perfectly.  Pratchett continues to wrap up the rest of the narrative in a very satisfying way, and while the war sequence might have been a little unnecessary, it allowed some great character arcs to come together and showed how much Om had grown as a god.  The final scene with Brutha once again showing his humanity no matter what, ended the book on satisfying and heart-felt note, I appreciated the hopeful tone Pratchett concluded his brilliant story on.  An overall impactful and moving narrative that brought together a lot of complex plotlines and character moments and ensured you were hooked the entire way through.

I have always believed that Small Gods was one of Pratchett’s better written books, as he effortlessly blended a complex fantasy narrative that examined religion with his typically brilliant humour and some outstanding characters.  Featuring one of his most complex and thought-provoking plots, Pratchett achieves so much with his intriguing inclusions, all without slowing down the speed of the book and keeping the tension and emotional charge of the book on high.  Introducing a cool new setting, Small Gods works well as a standalone entry in the larger series that cleverly expands on some previously introduced features, such as the selfish and somewhat stupid gods of the Disc, as well as cool locations like Ephebe (which was previously featured in Pyramids).  Due to its lack of major connections to the other entries in the Discworld series, Small Gods is a rather excellent introduction to Pratchett’s style and ability to dive into heavy topics with comedic content.  Like all of Pratchett’s books, Small Gods is hilarious, and I love the many different levels of humour contained with the book, that range from obvious jokes at over-the-top situations, subtle witticisms often contain within well-placed footnotes, to clever word or name gags.  Some of this humour is so subtle that it often goes over the reader’s head the first time, and you honestly need multiple readings to full appreciate every single joke or gag that Pratchett thought up (I still discover new jokes I previously missed every time I read a Pratchett novel).

However, the thing that ensures Small Gods stands out amongst the other brilliant Discworld novels is the author’s clever and insightful breakdown of religion and godhood on the Disc, which is both fascinating and entertaining.  A lot of the book’s powerful messaging, complex themes and some of the best humour, comes out of the exploration of the divine and how it relates to both this crazy fantasy setting and the real world.  While Pratchett does provide a lot of jokes about religion throughout the ages, he does it in a very intelligent and delicate way that makes the reader think.  Rather than simply dunking on religions and focussing on the negatives, Pratchett instead subtly satirises the institutions, manipulative leaders and unthinking traditions that can often complicate or weaponise religion.  A large amount of the plot revolves around Vorbis and the Omnian church violently trying the repress the idea that the world is flat and on the back of a giant turtle.  While this is primarily a fun parody of the Catholic church’s suppression of Galileo’s claims about the Earth orbiting the sun (and which is now both funnier and sadder, thanks to flat earthers), it also examines how some people utilise religion as an excuse for violent action and manipulate faith for their own ends, which is a powerful recurring them throughout the book.

At the same time, Pratchett also focuses on a compelling central character with true faith who explores the meaning of religion and how it impacts his people.  Seeing a likable character like Brutha recognise the problems in his nation allows readers to reflect and see the flaws in the organised religions Pratchett is parodying, while also appreciating the messages that these religions should strive for.  The various complex discussions, personal revelations and jokes within Small Gods allow for a very insightful read that reportedly resonates with both atheists and pro-religious figures (Pratchett apparently received a lot of fan mail from both groups who thought Small Gods was written for them).  I personally think that Pratchett’s thoughts and messages were extremely perceptive and layered with a great understand of humanity, and indeed many his compelling criticism or organised religion and how it is weaponised are more relevant now than when Small Gods was written, especially as it could also apply to other traditional institutions that are being abused.

Pratchett perfectly rounds out this incredible writing by featuring some of his very best characters, including several very complex figures who mature and evolve throughout the course of the book’s plot.  This includes the main protagonist, Brutha, a simple novice who finds himself the only person left who can hear Om due to his genuine belief in the god rather than in the institutions that surround the religious practices.  While initially portrayed as a somewhat dull and unthinking novice, you soon begin to realise that there is much greater complexity within Brutha, as well as the fact that he is a genuinely nice person held back by his simple ideas of life and faith.  Thanks to his interactions with Om, who provides greater clarity to his religious beliefs, as well as his experiences outside his insular nation, Brutha begins to evolve quickly as a person, gaining a greater appreciation for the wider world, as well as beginning the understand that the world isn’t quite as black and white as he believed.  It was fascinating to see Brutha develop as the book continues, especially as he begins to doubt his faith and rebel against the church and the god that had been his entire life.  His interactions with Om were quite entertaining, as the two eventually become a fun duo of equals, although Brutha does get the upper hand over his god in quite an entertaining and refreshing manner.  Brutha was also well defined by his relationship with the book’s antagonist, Vorbis, and their discussions about truth prove to be quite defining for Brutha as an inspiration for his rebellion.  However, unlike the rest of the cast, Brutha resists becoming the monster that Vorbis wants him to be, and his subsequent demonstrations of faith, reason and humanity, really set him up as one of Pratchett’s best and most likeable central protagonists.

Brutha is well matched by his god, Om, who honestly is one of the best deities featured in the Discworld series.  Formerly an all-powerful and arrogant god who didn’t care about his believers, Om finds himself suddenly trapped as a helpless tortoise who must desperately cling to Brutha to survive.  Om proves to be quite a fascinating and entertaining figure in Small Gods, especially as Pratchett perfectly portrays him as formerly powerful being who must now rely on the mercy of others.  His initial arrogance is very entertaining, and his subsequent wheedling manipulation of Brutha was a great follow-up that worked to keep him in the story.  However, it was his eventual co-evolution with Brutha that turned Om into a particularly compelling protagonist.  Despite his resistance, his bond to Brutha shapes him and forces him to see the world through human eyes, and the subsequent discourse on philosophy, life and how religion should be as they wander the dessert impacts Om just as much as Brutha.  This eventually causes them to reach an interesting and heartfelt religious partnership, and it was fascinating to see the previously selfish Om risk it all to save Brutha, especially when he is confronted by other gods who act the same way he used to.  I loved seeing this powerful and positive development in a divine figure, and Om really ended up being a compelling secondary protagonist with some of the best jokes.

While Brutha and Om are the heart and soul of Small Gods, this book would not be as impactful without its brilliant villain, Vorbis.  A cruel and unflinching figure, Vorbis is probably Pratchett’s most ruthless antagonist, who utilises the mechanisms of the church to achieve his goals.  However, rather than being a purely evil figure, Vorbis is shown to be simply someone who understands human nature and uses this knowledge to achieve his self-determined goals, which in some ways is worse than an obvious villain.  Pratchett does an outstanding job showcasing Vorbis’s dark, insular nature, and you come to really appreciate just how sinister he is, especially as his actions inspire other people to do evil things to try and match him.  He becomes even more immoral when compared to the very innocent Brutha, the only person that Vorbis occasionally sees as a real threat to his plans due to his legitimate belief, and their various interactions and discussion about the true nature of the world are quite powerful.  Pratchett features Vorbis perfectly throughout the book, and his final appearances, where he finally understands his own nature, are very satisfying to behold.

The rest of the cast of Small Gods are also quite impactful in their own way.  The blind philosopher, Didactylos, proves to be a fantastic voice of reason in the story, especially compared to the rest of the insane philosophers of Ephebe, and his very simple philosophy and viewpoint on life and truth give the characters, and the readers, much to think about amongst the discussions on religion.  Didactylos’s nephew, Urn, came across perfectly as a machine-obsessed proto engineer, whose storylines go in some interesting philosophical directions, especially when he realises what his inventions will be used for.  I had a very fun chuckle at the inclusion of Cut-Me-Own-Hand-Off Dhblah, a fun Omnian equivalent to the always entertaining Ankh-Morpork native, Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler, while the Sweeper, Lu Tze, gets a great introduction as a secret history monk who occasionally changes events for the better.  Finally, the zealous Sergeant Simony, who leads the internal Omnian revolution against Vorbis, proves to be a very impressive figure who, despite being a fervent misotheist (someone who hates one specific god), has a belief in freedom and the turtle that matches Brutha’s faith in Om.  Simony serves as a very good example of just how far Vorbis can drive someone trying to do the wrong thing to achieve their goals, and I felt that he matched the fervour and faith of the other major characters in some fascinating ways.  This cast of characters was overall superb, and I really appreciated how well they complimented each other’s story arcs, as well as the intelligent themes Pratchett was trying to get across.

As with all the Discworld novels, I have enjoyed Small Gods as both a physical novel and an audiobook, and frankly this epic story comes across extremely well in all formats.  However, I have a very special place in my heart for the Discworld audiobooks, and the outstanding stories, elaborate characters and impressive and clever humour always comes across extremely well in this format.  I have had the great pleasure of listening to Small Gods multiple times over the years, and I want to highlight the two different unabridged version of Small Gods.

The first audiobook version of Small Gods is the original production narrated by Nigel Planer.  Small Gods was a particularly impressive example of Planer’s voice work, as he had to come up with unique voices for a range of unusual characters.  The Planer version of Small Gods is the one that I grew up with, and it is engrained in my mind as a result, especially as the narrator effortlessly moves through Pratchett’s many complex ideas and plots and brings them out in a fantastic and humours manner.  Planer provides all the voices in his version of Small Gods, and he perfectly encapsulated all the key figures of the book with his exceptional narrations.  You really get the full range of these character’s personalities and emotions through Planer’s voice work, and I loved his clever takes on Pratchett’s distinctive cast.  As such, the Planer version of Small Gods is probably the gold standard for all Discworld fans, and it will always have a very special place in my heart.

There is also a recently released version of Small Gods that is narrated by three brilliant British talents, and which was the version I most recently enjoyed.  This new Small Gods audiobook features a runtime of around 12 hours, which is a little longer than the roughly 10-hour long Planer version and provides an interesting new take on the novel.  I really enjoyed the voice cast for this new audiobook, as not only do we once again get Peter Serafinowicz and Bill Nighy in their recurring roles, but it also features the primary narration of actor Andy Serkis.

Serkis, who has also narrated a recent version of The Lord of the Rings books that is worth checking out, does an exceptional job in Small Gods, ensuring a very fun experience for all listeners.  While there are some tonal shifts in this audiobook that fans of the Planer version may find a little surprising or jarring, for the most part I think Serkis matches and even occasionally exceeds Nigel Planer’s performance, and I very much enjoyed his take on the book.  His basic narration of Small Gods matches Pratchett’s style and humour extremely well, and I love how effectively he moves the story along, perfectly capturing the complex tone and energy of the plot.  However, it is Serkis’s entertaining voices that were the highlight of this version of Small Gods, as the characters are each given unique tones that fit their personalities in some fantastic ways.  His voice for Brutha, the central character, was extremely good, and I loved how well Serkis captured Brutha’s transformative journey and complex personality.  Utilising a fitting rural voice for the protagonist, Serkis successfully showcases Brutha’s changing mentality and deep moral roots with his narration, and you can honestly imagine this intriguing figure every time the narrator voices him.

In comparison to Brutha, the voices for Vorbis and the Great God Om were a lot more elaborate by necessity, and I really appreciated the fantastic tones that Serkis choice for these entertaining figures.  My favourite was probably the voice used for Vorbis, as the narrator gifted this antagonist a deep, rich and lingering voice that honestly put me in mind of Tony Jay or Alan Rickman with some added oily sinisterness.  This impactful voice perfectly fit Vorbis’ menacing personality, and whenever the listener hears the voice, you know bad stuff is about to go down for the rest of the cast.  As for Om, Serkis provides him with an unrefined and laddish voice with a Liverpool accent.  This interesting voice choice matched Om’s uncaring and selfish personality extremely well, and I liked how well Serkis’s chosen tone for this divine figure played into the overarching theme that gods on the Discworld aren’t as sophisticated as everyone assumes they are.  Most of the rest of the voices in Small Gods work extremely well, with Sergeant Simony and Cut-Me-Own-Hand-Off Dhblah having memorable voices as a result.  However, I felt that the strong American accents that Serkis assigned to Didactylos and Urn really didn’t work, and failed to match the tone of the rest of the audiobook.  While Serkis was probably trying to distinguish these two from the other Ephebian philosophers, their voices honestly grated on me, and I really wish he’d have tried something else.  Still, the rest of Serkis’ voice work was amazing, and I cannot emphasise how incredible most of his narration of Small Gods turned out to be.

Serkis’s main narration was perfectly enhanced with the inclusion of Peter Serafinowicz and Bill Nighy in their recurring roles from the new Discworld audiobooks.  Serafinowicz provides the voice of Death whenever he appears in this audiobook, which is a lot of fun as Serafinowicz has an extremely entertaining Death voice that captures the anthropomorphic personification in all his skeletal glory.  His multiple appearances in Small Gods, leading key character towards the desert of judgement, were very awesome, and I loved hearing Serafinowicz converse with the other characters as Death.  The audiobook production team does an excellent job sliding the Death voice into Serkis’s main narration seamlessly, and I love it when Serafinowicz’s voice suddenly appears during dangerous scenes, heralding that someone is about to die, and ensuring there is some great tension as you watch the other characters slowly realise something is very wrong.  Nighy, on the other hand, narrates the various footnotes that Pratchett included in his text, providing an extra layer of humour.  While there are relatively few footnotes in Small Gods, it is a key role that Nighy perfectly fulfils, and his calm, consistent tones, echoing Peter Jones’s similar role in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy radio and TV editions really highlighted the subtle comedy of these footnotes. These three exceptional actors come together perfectly and provide an outstanding overall performance that I could not get enough of.  This was a truly exceptional audiobook that I think is on par with the previous Planer version, and I would strongly recommend both audiobooks as an amazing way to enjoy Small Gods, especially if you need to listen to something while travelling.

Well, as I am currently just getting to the end of page seven of my review for Small Gods by Terry Pratchett, I think it is a safe assumption to say that I love this amazing book.  Easily one of my favourite Discworld novels, Small Gods perfectly blends a brilliant story and amazing characters with Pratchett’s amazing wit and his uncanny insights into compelling real-world issues.  An incredible and addictive read from start to finish, Small Gods comes extremely highly recommended and can easily be enjoyed by anyone wanting a clever, funny and heartfelt read, especially on its two audiobook formats.

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Warhammer 40,000 – Ghazghkull Thraka: Prophet of the Waaagh! by Nate Crowley

Ghazghkull Thraka - Prophet of the Waaagh! Cover

Publisher: Black Library (Audiobook – 15 March 2022)

Series: Warhammer 40,000

Length: 7 hours and 30 minutes

My Rating: 5 out of 5 stars

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Prepare to read one of the most amusing and downright entertaining recent additions to the Warhammer 40,000 canon with the hilarious and brilliant Ghazghkull Thraka: Prophet of the Waaagh! by outstanding author Nate Crowley.

I have been having an immense amount of fun really diving into the massive wealth of tie-in fiction surrounding the Warhammer 40,000 tabletop game this year.  Books like Steel Tread by Andy Clarke, Krieg by Steve Lyons, The Bookkeeper’s Skull by Justin D. Hill and Day of Ascension by Adrian Tchaikovsky, have really highlighted just how diverse and intense this extended universe can be.  However, the latest tie-in novel I checked out may prove to be one of my absolute favourites, as I got to learn all about one of the most iconic ork characters in this universe with Ghazghkull Thraka: Prophet of the Waaagh!

Orks are the most notorious and dangerous creatures that roam the galaxy of the 41st millennium.  Billions upon billions of the powerful, war-loving creatures can be found throughout every sector of space, fighting anyone and anything they can find, especially each other.  However, out of all these monsters, none are more feared, respected or hated than the warlord Ghazghkull Mag Uruk Thraka, chosen of the ork gods Gork and Mork and proclaimed prophet of the Waaagh!

Throughout his legendary life, Ghazghkull has done what no other ork has been able to achieve.  Bringing together innumerable warbands into one massive horde of green, Ghazghkull has warred with every faction in the cosmos, while his infamous invasions of the Imperial planet of Armageddon are the stuff of bloody legend.  Everyone knows of his epic and rivalry with his indomitable foe, Commissar Yarrick, which turned Armageddon into a perpetual warzone, but does anyone know the true story of Ghazghkull and the events that made him?

Rogue Lord Inquisitor Tytonida Falx has long attempted to discover what lurks in the minds of the xenos her order faces.  When an opportunity to find out more about Ghazghkull presents itself, she eagerly jumps at the opportunity, bringing a unique prisoner aboard her heretical ship, Ghazghkull’s banner bearer, the grot Makari.  Interrogating him, Inquisitor Falx and her team soon discover that Makari might just be the only being in the universe who knows the full truth about who, or what, Ghazghkull is, and what he plans to do next.  But, as she listens to Makari’s tale, the Inquisitor soon discovers that the shadow of Ghazghkull’s rage and desire for violence far eclipses anything that the Imperium has ever believed.

Wow, now that was a really fun and captivating read.  I knew going into Ghazghkull Thraka: Prophet of the Waaagh! that I was going to have a great time, especially after enjoying author Nate Crowley’s The Twice-Dead King novels, Ruin and Reign, but I was blown away by how awesome Ghazghkull Thraka was.  Featuring a clever and wildly entertaining story, perfectly told through various unique eyes, as well as some deeply enjoyable characters, I quickly became absorbed in the impressive story and powered through it in a couple of days.  Not only was this my favourite book from Crowley but it also probably overtakes Kal Jerico: Sinner’s Bounty as the most amusing Warhammer novel I have ever read.

I had an absolute blast with the incredible story that Crowley whipped up for Ghazghkull Thraka, as it ended up being an inventive and entertaining way to showcase an iconic Warhammer figure.  Due to his prominence within the game and the extended fiction, Ghazghkull is probably one of the most utilised non-human characters in the canon, with many different novels, game books and comics already diving into his life.  As such, Crowley needed to come up with a completely new way to examine this great character that didn’t tread on any prior works.  I think his solution to this problem was exceedingly clever, as he chose to tell the story through the eyes of the most unlikely narrator and chronicler, the grot Makari, whose unique insights and worldview turned this already known backstory into something truly special.

The story starts off in the current timeline of the Warhammer 40,000 universe and shows Inquisitor Falx obtaining Makari and interrogating him about Ghazghkull.  This causes the book to dive back into the early days of Ghazghkull as Makari chronicle his master’s existence as he saw it.  As such, you get a very specific examination of Ghazghkull’s life, with a focus on his early trials, some of his pivotal moments, and more specifically his interactions with Makari.  At the same time, the story keeps jumping back to the present, with the Inquisitor and her followers interrupting to ask specific questions and discussing whether there is any truth in what he says.  The book keeps jumping between these different perspectives, and you end up with two distinctive storylines as Makari’s presence brings some big woes for the Inquisitor in the present day.  The chronicle storyline goes at a brisk pace, especially as Makari’s interrogators get him to skip or shorten specific sections, but there is a clever and impressive logic into what parts of Ghazghkull’s life are featured or ignored.  Not only are the past and present storylines exceedingly intriguing and entertaining in their own rights, but they also come together perfectly as well, with Makari’s insights into Ghazghkull and himself impacting the actions of Falx.  While the ending was slightly too metaphysical, it served as a brilliant and powerful conclusion to this great story, and I loved seeing the entire tale come full circle in some hilarious ways.

I deeply appreciated the way that Crowley put Ghazghkull Thraka’s story together, as its distinctive and clever style really helped to enhance the chronicle contained within.  The plot device of an interrogation of an alien prisoner works extremely well to set up the main narrative, and the constant interruptions, debates and revelations that occur whenever it snaps back to the present adds to the sense of mystery and mysticism surrounding the titular figure.  While Crowley takes the story in some interesting and complex directions at times, the entire novel is paced beautifully, and there is never a single boring or slow moment within the entire thing.  I particularly liked the near constant humour that was injected into the story, a fantastic side-effect of basing the book around the funny ork species, and I laughed out loud several times as I powered through this impressively amusing read.  Like many Warhammer novels, Ghazghkull Thraka can be enjoyed as a standalone read, and the author makes sure that it features a great self-contained narrative that anyone can enjoy, even those unfamiliar with the universe and the canon.  Indeed, this would be a decent introduction to the Warhammer 40,000 canon and associated extended universe, especially as it perfectly presents one of the key factions of the universe.  Most of the unique universe elements and wider history are explained sufficiently for new readers to follow along without any issues, although some could potentially get confused by the deliberate exclusion of events previously covered in other books.  Still, Ghazghkull Thraka should turn out to be an easy and entertaining read for any science fiction fan, and I thought that this Warhammer 40,000 novel was very well written and extremely clever.

One of the things I love the most about Nate Crowley’s Warhammer novels is his brilliant ability to dive into the unique alien races of the universe and then perfectly showcase their culture and mindsets.  This was the case again in Ghazghkull Thraka, where Crowley expertly dives into the heads of the various ork and grot characters.  No matter whose perspective is shown, every scene of this book features some excellent and often highly amusing depiction of greenskin culture, as Makari attempts to explain the ork perspective as well as his place in the society as a grot.  As such, you get some incredibly detailed and compelling insights into this crude and warlike race, including their brutal hierarchy, need for violence, insane technology, and very unique worldview, which generally results in most of the book’s fantastic humour.  However, rather than the dumb, brutal and one-note figures that most authors depict, Crowley really goes out his way to show that there is a lot more to orks than you realise.  Not only do you get some excellent insights into their various clans and organisations but the various ork characters are shown to be complex beings with unique needs and the ability to formulate some very cunning plans.  There is a particularly intriguing look at the ork religion that follows the gods Gork and Mork, and this novel ends up with a spiritual edge, especially as Crowley shows the orks being extremely successful because they choose to strongly believe in themselves.  As such, you see quite a unique and compelling side to the ork race in this book, and I loved how incredibly Crowley portrayed them.

Naturally, a big part of this examination of ork culture comes from the in-depth look at the life of Ghazghkull himself.  As I mentioned before, Ghazghkull is one of the best-known characters in the entire Warhammer 40,000 canon, so most veteran readers would already be quite familiar with him and his actions.  However, Crowley does an excellent job of examining a completely new side to this character, and mostly ignores his wars at Armageddon and his intense rivalry with Commissar Yarrick, both of which have been done to death in other books.  While certain parts of his history are revisited in this novel, Crowley completely changes their implications and causes, instead focusing on Ghazghkull’s unique orkish mindset and his role as the prophet of his gods.  This new take on Ghazghkull proves to be quite unique and very captivating, as he is shown to be an overburdened being, constantly pressured by his own visions and the influence of the gods to succeed and be a uniting force for his people.  While he still retains the casual violence of his race, you really see Ghazghkull as a deep thinker, and it is fascinating to see his inner ork face off against his grand ambitions and desires.  Crowley also adds some compelling supernatural elements to his character, as Ghazghkull, as seen by Makari, bears a direct connection to the gods which he can use to alter his fellows and himself.  While this isn’t too overpowered or strange, it adds a great extra layer of menace to the character, especially for the humans, and I loved seeing the Inquisitors trying to wrap their heads around the strange occurrences.  I had a lot of fun seeing this other side of Ghazghkull, and this novel ended up being a great analysis of who they are and what they represent to their race.

I also really enjoyed the inclusion of Makari as one of the central characters, and his use as the main witness to Ghazghkull’s life worked incredibly well.  While Makari has always been associated with the character of Ghazghkull, accompanying him in his battles and waving his banner as a source of luck, Crowley really changes him in this novel and paints him as an essential part of Ghazghkull’s success and relationship with the gods.  Shown to be there the moment that Ghazghkull became the prophet, Makari follows Ghazghkull through some of his big moments and it is hilarious to see his snide view on the subject, especially as, like most grots, he a massive coward who doesn’t want to be there.  A lot of this novel’s humour is derived from Makari’s observations and responses, and I loved some of the jokes set up around it.  Crowley does an awful lot with this character, and I particularly liked how the story explained certain aspects of his previous portrayals, such as the apparent multiple versions and his surprising luck.  These are worked into the story extremely well, but it’s the relationship with Ghazghkull that becomes the most fascinating.  Just like with Ghazghkull, there is a major spiritual edge to Makari, who appears to be just as chosen and important to the plan as his master.  Makari’s mystical and religious bond enables him to have a far bigger insight into Ghazghkull’s actions than anybody else, and this really enhanced the analysis of the titular character.  However, it is in Makari’s attempts to serve and help his master achieve his destiny that we see the best Makari scenes, especially when faced with Ghazghkull’s apparent depression, the manipulation of his other followers, and his own stubbornness.  While Ghazghkull does have the inherent ork reluctance to rely on a grot, and indeed he is extremely likely to kill Makari if he starts giving advice, the moments where Makari get through to him are powerful, and I really appreciated the character work surrounding them.  There are some rocky moments between them, especially when Ghazghkull becomes dismissive of his lucky grot, and Makari’s subsequent reactions is very funny and incredibly over the top, which was so very cool.  Overall, this ended up being an excellent and surprisingly compelling portrayal of Makari, and I am exceedingly glad that Crowley featured him in this novel the way he did.

Aside from the greenskin characters, a large amount of plot revolves around the team interrogating Makari.  Crowley really went out his way to create a particularly unique group of Imperial agents who bear surprising insights into the mind of the xenos.  This team is led by Inquistor Falx, a rogue Inquisitor who bears a dangerous obsession with the alien creatures.  Falx is desperate to learn everything she can about the aliens attacking the Imperium to help defeat them and finds herself stymied by the Imperium’s controlling and non-progressive government and religion.  As such, she takes some major risks in this book to understand Makari and Ghazghkull and has some unique and dangerous methods for achieving her goals that borders on the insane/heretical.  I quite liked Falx, despite her obsessive qualities, and she proved to be a great central figure for half the novels plot, especially as her frustrations, concerns and thoughts about the evils of the Imperium, are extremely understandable.

Falx also employs a unique team of interrogators to help her with Makari, including Brother Hendriksen, a Space Wolves rune priest assigned to Deathwatch who has also fallen out of favour with the Imperium thanks to his work with Falx.  Hendriksen serves as a beastly and powerful presence on Falx’s team, and he often provides a great counterpoint to the inquisitor in both technique and common sense, often despairing at her more dangerous choices.  Crowley’s diverse cast gets even larger with the truly unique character of Cassia, a female ogryn psyker who has grown as smart as a human.  This was a fantastic and extremely distinctive addition to the cast, and her surprisingly calm demeanour, which contrasts beautifully with her immense ogryn strength, works perfectly against Hendriksen’s impatience and anger.  The final member of the team is probably the most enjoyable, with the ork character, Biter (Bites-Faces-Of-The-Face-Biter-Before-It-Can-Bite).  Biter is a member of a Blood Axes mercenary band who have dealings with Falx and who sell Makari to her, remaining behind to interpret Makari’s testimony to the humans.  Due to being a member of the Blood Axes, a group who idolise human military culture, Biter is a very distinctive figure, wearing an approximation of a military uniform and appreciating complex tactics and strategy.  However, Biter is even more intelligent and cunning than most Blood Axes, and his near human tendencies really stand out, as it is pretty unexpected from an orc.  His fantastic reactions, comedic impressions of human behaviour, and determination to antagonise the Inquisitor really make him stand out, and he was an absolute joy to behold.  These four interrogators play off each other perfectly during the present-day scenes, and their arguments, discussions and interpretations of Makari’s story give it added depth, humour and impact, especially once they start realising just how valuable their prisoner is.  This entire cast was put together extremely well, and I had an incredible time with this unique and enjoyable collection of characters.

Like most Warhammer novels I check out, I chose to grab the audiobook version of Ghazghkull Thraka, which turned out to be such a wonderful and incredible listening experience.  Not only did the story absolutely fly by in this format, allowing me to get through its seven and a half hour runtime extremely quickly, but I found that the narrative and descriptions of ork life really popped when read out.  However, the best part about the Ghazghkull Thraka audiobook is the outstanding use of narrators.  This audiobook has three separate narrators, Kelly Hotten, Paul Putner and Jon Rand, each of whom have some experience narrating other Warhammer audio productions.  Not only are each of these narrators quite talented but the way they were featured in this audiobook is extremely clever, with the voice actor changing depending on who is witnessing or telling the events of the book.  For example, Kelly Hotten serves as the narrator for the various scenes and interludes where Inquisitor Falx is witnessing Makari’s interrogation, and Hotten does a brilliant job capturing the various players of these scenes, including the Inquisitor, her unique companions, and their orkish interpreter.  Paul Putner narrates the various scenes shown directly from Makari’s perspective, and he has a lot of fun in this role, not only capturing the cowardly and sneaky mannerisms of the grot protagonist, but also providing some amusing and deep voices for the ork characters.  Finally, Jon Rand has a memorable sequence voicing Brother Hendriksen when he psychically jumps into Makari’s mind and views some of the events occurring, and he gives the character a notable accent and internal growl that fit him extremely well.  The jumps between the voice actors were done perfectly and I really loved how it changed up depending on the perspective.  All three voice actors did an amazing job with their narration, and their work, plus some fun sound effects here and there, helped to turn this into such an impressive production.  Easily the best way to enjoy Ghazghkull Thraka, you will have an incredible time listening to this audiobook.

Nate Crowley continues to shine with another entry in the Warhammer 40,000 universe, with the unbelievably entertaining Ghazghkull Thraka: Prophet of the Waaagh!  Featuring a unique and deeply amusing story that re-examines on of the canon’s most iconic alien characters, Ghazghkull Thraka has a tight and cleverly written story, loaded with action, great characters and whole mess of outstanding humour.  Not only that, but this is without a doubt one of the best portrayals of the Warhammer 40,000 orks I have seen as Crowley obviously had a ton of fun bringing them to life.  Easily one of the best (and definitely the funniest) Warhammer 40,000 novels I have been lucky enough to enjoy, Ghazghkull Thraka comes extremely highly recommended, especially in its audiobook format, and is a must read for all fans of this wonderful fandom.

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