Book Review: “Mort” (1987) by Terry Pratchett


“Dead Like Me” still.


At last, my very first Discworld novel!

After years and years of tiptoeing around Terry Pratchett I have finally decided to take the plunge and unsurprisingly, he did not disappoint. My theory is that if you were to put Neil Gaiman and Douglas Adams into a blender, the Discworld series would come pouring out (that sounded a lot better in my head, my apologies).

First of all, this book is insanely quotable; there is a joke in every other line to the point where you’re just silently smiling and chuckling to yourself throughout the whole thing. On top of that, Pratchett takes every unwritten rule of fiction, crumples it up, and tosses it over his shoulder whilest cheerfully cracking a Dumbo joke. As a result, you never know where the story is going to go and every once in a while something so absurd happens that it gives you narrative whiplash. However, my favourite thing about this book is how inventive it is in its setting: the locations, the religions, the sheer logic (or lack thereof) of the Discworld, it’s just incredible. It baffles me that Pratchett has managed to keep this series going for so long and I’m curious to see if the books are all as imaginative as this one.

The only reason this volume didn’t get five stars was the rushed and frankly not at all statisfying ending. Still, consider me hooked. After all, a writer who manages to get me a little emotional over the fact that Death has started flipping burgers in a back-alley diner must be doing something right.

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