Equal Rites, Terry Pratchett
3.16.11 – 3.17.11
The gentleman from my favorite used bookstore gave (not sold, but gave) the book to me after I told him I’ve only been reading depressing, heavy fiction.
His recommendation proved solid, and I enjoyed it for the entertaining evening it provided. It’s not my kind of book—at least, not for what I’m into right now. I might check them out from the library on occasion, but I don’t really want to make a financial investment in a book that felt on par with a bag of Skittles. Not if the book costs more than a bag of Skittles, that is.
As fun as the book was, and as renowned as Terry Pratchett is, I didn’t think it was a god, strong story. The humour was strong, and I laughed hard, for sure. But the plot felt so unfocused that when it finally reached the climax, I didn’t know what had happened. It was as if the story was so obvious to Pratchett that he never realized he didn’t actually type it out.
It did make me, quite literally, laugh out loud, though. And it cured me of my literary-induced depression.