A distinctly average Discworld outing, really only notable for the introduction of Detritus the troll, soon-to-be member of the City Watch and one of my eventual favourites though he's not much to write home about here.

It's clever, as Pratchett always is, but I think what this book lacks for me - in comparison to many of the other Discworld books - is some sort of emotional centre. In that sense, it's closer to the early Rincewind books than it is to the witches or the City Watch or the Tiffany Aching books. That is, it's clever but I don't care - not about the characters, not about Holy Wood, not about the thousand elephants.