Discworld is moving towards a star, and only the world's singular most inept wizard can stop it. Too bad he's fallen over the edge.
I often feel out of my depth when I write these reviews; after all, who am I to take somebody else's work, someone far more talented than me, and critique it? I don't have the skill or credentials to publish my opinions. This is never felt more keenly than when I try to review Sir Terry's novels. Honestly, the man is a marvel.
I've read the Discworld books all out of order, and often a long time ago, but with The Light Fantastic, my odd collage of understanding is starting to come together. Apologies if I get something wrong. So firstly, if you want to start the Discworld novels, which you do, start at the beginning. I imagine it makes infinitely more sense.
There is something about the Disc which makes the fantastic mundane and the mundane fantastic. I would say it is Pratchett's greatest strength. There is quiet, and not so quiet, humour underlying the dwarves and trolls and wizards. Personally (I suspect the sea of imitators) I find parts of it almost predictable, but just when you're on the edge of falling into a rhythm, some weird thing comes along to give the plot a kick up the arse. This is certainly not a book which ever sits still, rattling through quite the story in just over 200 pages.
As usual, Pratchett is charming, funny, and heartfelt. His words ooze intelligence- and not just bookish, the very human sort too.
The Light Fantastic is sweet, bizarre, and ceaselessly entertaining. Sir Terry, we salute you.
(Also, if I ever don't find his incarnation of Death absolutely hilarious, it might be my time to meet him. Maybe it's morbid- I just find him so funny!)
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Book Reviews
SaggisticaCarried over from my Tumblr, this is a personal project tracking what I read through time, largely because of my awful memory. These aren't long reviews, but the books are varied, and the opinions are honest, so I hope you enjoy.
