I Read Books: Snuff
Snuff
Sam Vimes is on holiday, in the countryside. But can a policeman ever really go on holiday? Even out in the shires which is outside his jurisdiction.
The shires are dominated by English Country House Estates, slightly flavoured by Mississippi plantations, including a treacherous river with paddle boats (ox-powered, steam hasn’t come to Discword… yet). And that flavouring is deliberate; Ankh-Morpork is a trading port, but Pratchett’s never really been that interested in the details. Still, it’s clear that things come into this European-style city from abroad, commodities such as chocolate, coffee… tobacco.
How is the tobacco grown, how is it brought into the country (smuggled?), what exactly happened three years ago with the goblin settlement under the hill? People, especially the landowners, believe goblins to be sub-human and so not subject to the law. But they live in darkness and Vimes has a relationship with darkness.
There’s a change in writing style, and whether this was a direct result of Pratchett’s Alzheimer’s or a choice, it becomes noticeable in this novel. In previous ones when there was a point to be made. It would be sharpened in plain sight, though it was not clear exactly where, how and when it would be made, then come in to jab at the opportune moment. Here it’s more like getting tapped with a hammer, making the point clearly, again and again from new and interesting angles. People make long declaratory speeches about law and humanity and occasionally beauty and rights and also poo. It reads like Pratchett writing a 19th-century flavoured novel, which I quite like, but it’s not as brisk and easy to read on the surface, and with so much explained, there’s less depth too.
Read This: A satisfying comedy of class, crime and goblins
Don't Read This: You aren't up to speed with Sam Vimes et al
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