More gloriously uproarious doings from Discworld (Carpe Jugulum, 1999, etc.). This time, dwarfs are rioting on the noisome streets of Ankh-Morpork. Why? Well, it’s just politics as usual: they’re about to choose a new Low King. So the city’s Lord Vetinari must send a representative to the coronation ceremony at Uberwalde (where he might also nail down the rights to develop Uberwalde’s vast, untouched natural resources). Reluctantly, City Watch Commissioner Vimes accepts the job; he has no talent for diplomacy whatsoever, and his assistants are a werewolf, a troll, and a dwarf. Among the complications Vimes must grapple with: the theft of the coronation Scone of Stone; vampires; werewolves; food (“noggi: buckwheat dumplings stuffed with stuff”); and Death (“'Are you Death?'” / IT’S THE SCYTHE, ISN’T IT. PEOPLE ALWAYS NOTICE THE SCYTHE'”). Pratchett’s humor is international, satirical, devious, knowing, irreverent, unsparing and, above all, funny.
