Author: Terry Pratchett
First time published: November 1999, Transworld/Doubleday UK
DISCWORLD #24
Synopsis
Everyone knows that the world is flat, and supported on the backs of four elephants. But weren't there supposed to be five? Indeed there were. So where is it?...
When duty calls. Commander Vimes of the Ankh-Morpork constabulary answers. Even when he doesn't want to. He's been "invited" to attend a royal function as both detective and diplomat. The one role he relishes; the other requires, well, ruby tights. Of course where cops (even those clad in tights) go, alas, crime follows. An attempted assassination and a theft soon lead to a desperate chase from the low halls of Discworld royalty to the legendary fat mines of Uberwald, where lard is found in underground seams along with tusks and teeth and other precious ivory artifacts. It's up to the dauntless Vimes -- bothered as usual by a familiar cast of Discworld inhabitants (you know, trolls, dwarfs, werewolves, vampires and such) -- to solve the puzzle of the missing pachyderm. Which of course he does. After all, solving mysteries is his job.
Reviews of this book
By Morten Hovdan
from Stavanger, Norway
Date: 12.09.2003
As so many times before, this book takes place in the famous city Ankh-Morpork. That means that many “old” characters, combined with new ones, have new adventures. In this one the dwarfs are close to rioting. The old dwarfs that hold to tradition can not be bystanders as other dwarfs adapt to the future. And when a new dwarf king is supposed to be elected in far of Uberwald, the inhabitants of Ankh-Morpork couldn’t care less (except the dwarfs). They do on the other hand care about trade agreements. And so Sam Vimes becomes a diplomat over night. The problem with Uberwald is that it is full of dwarfs, werewolves and vampires, none of them taking a liking to Vimes. And when a special item of great importance to the dwarfs are stolen, all hell break lose.
When you pick up a book written by Pratchett, you expect funny characters, strange plots, weird inhabitants and things that just don’t make any sense at all. Pratchett delivers, as he always does. This is good, funny, but not exceptional. After all, it’s what you always get. But the question is then, can you expect better books every time, or does authors come to a point where they no longer evolve their writer skills? It’s a great book, no doubt about it, and I would dare say better then most of Pratchett’s books. But the style, the humour, and the characters remain the same, so don’t expect anything else.
