62, WG38, E55, / NG24, D7, C1, Frz0, B1, NA0

Terry Pratchett, Men at Arms

Auf den "The Fifth Elephant" kann ich diesmal (vielleicht) verzichten, aber dieser zweite Band der Citywatch-Serie musste einfach sein, schon weil hier die neuen Mitstreiter aus allen möglichen Spezies die Wache ab hier bereichern. Und wie jedesmal schmerzt es mich, dass Cuddy umkommt, weil er und Detritus so ein herrliches Duo abgeben.
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He could think in italics. Such people need watching.
Preferably from a safe distance.
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There were no such thing as dwarf gods. Dwarfs were not a naturally religious species, but in a world where pit props could crack without warning and pockets of fire damp could suddenly explode they'd seen the need for gods as the sort of supernatural equivalent of a hard hat. Besides, when you hit your thumb with an eight-pound hammer it's nice to be able to blaspheme.
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The Librarian was, of course, very much in favour of reading in general, but readers in particular got on his nerves. There was something, well, sacrilegious about the way they kept taking books off the shelves and wearing out the words by reading them. He liked people who loved and respected books, and the best way to do that, in the Librarian's opinion, was to leave them on the shelves where Nature intended them to be.
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He was vaguely aware that prospective grooms were not supposed to see putative brides on the morning of the wedding, possibly in case they took to their heels.
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(Terry Pratchett, Men at Arms, 1993)
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Terry Pratchett, Thud

Mit dem letzten - und vielleicht besten - Band der Citywatch-Serie komme ich langsam zum Schluß meines Pratchett-Bingeing. Ein oder zwei Bände vielleicht noch, dann reicht es erstmal wieder für eine Weile. Bei diesem Band beeindruckt mich immer wieder, wie Pratchett es schafft, die unüberwindbar erscheinende religiöse und kulturelle Kluft zwischen Zwergen und Trollen zu erklären und zu veranschaulichen, wie unaufhaltsam die Bemühungen tatsächlich sind sie zu überbrücken, trotz aller Widerstände.
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Fun. What is it good for?
It's not pleasure, joy, delight, enjoyment or glee. It's a hollow, cruel, vicious little bastard, a word for something sought with an hilarious couple of wobbly antennae on your head and the word 'I want it!' on your shirt, and it tends to leave you waking up with your face stuck to the street.
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(Terry Pratchett, Thud, 2005)