A new Pratchett novel is an occasion for celebration in our house. When I
found this one in the bookstore I snatched it up and presented it to my son
for first reading. And the little snot wouldn’t tell me anything about it
til I had read it myself. Hmpff. All I could get out of him is that Vimes is
a peripheral character and there weren’t any witches or wizards in it.

Well, I read it in a longish afternoon that actually began pretty mid
morning and was punctuated by a trip to get my flu shot. And of course,
after a flu shot, you are pretty much incapacitated and just have to lie on
the couch and read until the throbbing pain subsides or the book ends,
whichever comes first.

This newest Discworld book isn’t a part of any continuing series Pratchett
has going. It’s more of a meditation on people’s inability to change thier
beliefs in the face of reality. And on War and what it does to people. Early
on I suspected he was gleaning material from “All’s Quiet on the Western
Front” though once the action got going, that faded into the background.
It’s not quite as boisterously funny as some of his other novels which was
fine. His wit was just as quietly sharp when touching war as it is loudly
funny when talking about politics or the arts.

And that’s all I’m going to say about it except that Vimes is peripheral
character and there aren’t any witches or wizards in it. You have to read it
yourself.