Pratchett leaves Discworld to bring us something that is quite nearly—but not exactly—actual historical fiction.
Dodger is a guttersnipe and a tosher (a glossary would not have been amiss to help readers navigate the many archaic terms, although most are defined in the text, often humorously). He knows everyone, and everyone knows him, and he’s a petty criminal but also (generally) one of the good guys. One night he rescues a beautiful young woman and finds himself hobnobbing quite literally with the likes of Charlie Dickens (yes, that Dickens) and Ben Disraeli. The young woman is fleeing from an abusive husband and has been beaten until she miscarried; power and abuse are explored sensitively but deliberately throughout. And when he attempts to smarten himself up to impress the damsel in distress, he unexpectedly comes face to face with—and disarms!—Sweeney Todd. As Dodger rises, he continuously grapples with something Charlie has said: “the truth is a fog.” Happily, the only fog here is that of Dodger’s London, and the truth is quite clear: Historical fiction in the hands of the inimitable Sir Terry brings the sights and the smells (most certainly the smells) of Old London wonderfully to life, in no small part due to the masterful third-person narration that adopts Dodger’s voice with utmost conviction.
Unexpected, drily funny and full of the pathos and wonder of life: Don't miss it. (Historical fiction. 12 & up)