There is a ticking, such as might be made by a clock. There’s an ox roast afterward, and it’s generally considered a nice day out for all the family. There, the men dance on the first day of spring, backward and forward, bells tied under their knees, white shirts flapping. It’s a small village high in the Ramtop Mountains, where the big and simple secret is handed down across the generations. Widgery’s Lodger and ruthlessly by such as the Ninja Morris Men of New Ankh, who can do strange and terrible things with a simple handkerchief and a bell.Įxcept on the Discworld, which is flat and supported on the backs of four elephants which travel through space on the shell of Great A’Tuin, the world turtle.Īnd even there, only in one place have they got it right. It is danced innocently by raggedy-bearded young mathematicians to an inexpert accordion rendering of Mrs. The imperative is felt by deep-sea beings who have never seen the sun and urban humans whose only connection with the cycles of nature is that their Volvo once ran over a sheep. It is danced under blue skies to celebrate the quickening of the soil and under bare stars because it’s springtime and with any luck the carbon dioxide will unfreeze again. The Morris dance is common to all inhabited worlds in the multiverse. The Discworld novels can be read in any order, but Reaper Man is the second book in the Death series. To get the fresh start he deserves, Windle and the rest of Ankh-Morpork's undead and underemployed set off to find Death and save the world for the living(and everybody else, of course). The oldest geezer in the entire faculty of Unseen University-home of magic, wizardry, and big dinners-Windle was looking forward to a wonderful afterlife, not this boring been-there-done-that routine. Now Death is having the time of his life, finding greener pastures where he can put his scythe to a whole new use.īut like every cutback in an important public service, Death's demise soon leads to chaos and unrest-literally, for those whose time was supposed to be up, like Windle Poons. Of course, the last thing anyone needs is a squeamish Grim Reaper and soon his Discworld bosses have sent him off with best wishes and a well-earned gold watch. But that was before Death started pondering the existential. They say there are only two things you can count on. The eleventh installment in the Discworld fantasy series from New York Times bestselling author Terry Pratchett nothing short of magical.' - Chicago Tribune

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