The Discworld's first train comes steaming into town and causes Moist von Lipwig all sorts of problems in this, the final, glorious adult novel in Terry Pratchett's legendary, multi-million-selling sequence.
To the consternation of the patrician, Lord Vetinari, a new invention has arrived in Ankh-Morpork - a great clanging monster of a machine that harnesses the power of all of the elements- earth, air, fire and water. This being Ankh-Morpork, it's soon drawing astonished crowds, some of whom caught the zeitgeist early and arrive armed with notepads and very sensible rainwear.
Moist von Lipwig is not a man who enjoys hard work - as master of the Post Office, the Mint and the Royal Bank his input is, of course, vital . . . but largely dependent on words, which are fortunately not very heavy and don't always need greasing. However, he does enjoy being alive, which makes a new job offer from Vetinari hard to refuse . . .
Steam is rising over Discworld, driven by Mister Simnel, the man wi' t'flat cap and sliding rule who has an interesting arrangement with the sine and cosine. Moist will have to grapple with gallons of grease, goblins, a fat controller with a history of throwing employees down the stairs and some very angry dwarfs if he's going to stop it all going off the rails . . .
The Discworld's first train comes steaming into town and causes Moist von Lipwig all sorts of problems in this, the final, glorious adult novel in Terry Pratchett's legendary, multi-million-selling sequence.
To the consternation of the patrician, Lord Vetinari, a new invention has arrived in Ankh-Morpork - a great clanging monster of a machine that harnesses the power of all of the elements- earth, air, fire and water. This being Ankh-Morpork, it's soon drawing astonished crowds, some of whom caught the zeitgeist early and arrive armed with notepads and very sensible rainwear.
Moist von Lipwig is not a man who enjoys hard work - as master of the Post Office, the Mint and the Royal Bank his input is, of course, vital . . . but largely dependent on words, which are fortunately not very heavy and don't always need greasing. However, he does enjoy being alive, which makes a new job offer from Vetinari hard to refuse . . .
Steam is rising over Discworld, driven by Mister Simnel, the man wi' t'flat cap and sliding rule who has an interesting arrangement with the sine and cosine. Moist will have to grapple with gallons of grease, goblins, a fat controller with a history of throwing employees down the stairs and some very angry dwarfs if he's going to stop it all going off the rails . . .
The Discworld's first train comes steaming into town and causes Moist von Lipwig all sorts of problems in this, the final, glorious adult novel in Terry Pratchett's legendary, multi-million-selling sequence.
Terry Pratchett was the acclaimed creator of the global bestselling
Discworld series, the first of which, The Colour of Magic, was
published in 1983. In all, he was the author of over fifty
bestselling books which have sold over 100 million copies
worldwide. His novels have been widely adapted for stage and
screen, and he was the winner of multiple prizes, including the
Carnegie Medal. He was awarded a knighthood for services to
literature in 2009, although he always wryly maintained that his
greatest service to literature was to avoid writing any.
www.terrypratchettbooks.com
Laugh-out-loud funny...A chuffing wonderful book.
*SFX*
Terry Pratchett’s creation is still going strong after 30 years as
Ankh-Morpork branches into the railway age…There are sly nods to
the history of railways and a cheeky reference to The Railway
Children. Most aficionados, however, will be on the look-out for
in-jokes and references from previous novels – of which there is no
shortage…It is at the level of the sentence that Pratchett wins his
fans.
*The Times*
The genius of Pratchett is that he never goes for the straight
allegory. . .he remains one of the most consistently funny writers
around; a master of the stealth simile, the time-delay pun and the
deflationary three-part list. . .I could tell which of my fellow
tube passengers had downloaded it to their e-readers by the bouts
of spontaneous laughter.
*The Guardian*
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