I have just finished reading Raising Steam. I loved it.
I have read a lot of the reviews and criticisms, and I understand some of the consternation many people feel. Initially, my reaction to Vetenari in particular was...woah, wait, what the heck? Vetenari was never that voluble, or expressive except in the most subtle way, and indeed there was some rambling and perhaps dilution of the usual sharpness of satire.
But...there is something very special about this book. It's gentler, sweeter, and, taken as a whole, sadder in that it feels like a "wrapping up" of Discworld, a last hurrah. All the cameos, which to some might seem scrappy or even irrelevant, felt like a cast gathering to take a bow. I don't want this to be the case, I really really don't, but that's what it seemed like to me.
Raising Steam did what every other discworld novel did for me, it made me laugh out loud more than once. From The Colour of Magic to this, Sir Terry has never once failed me in that respect. He has made my life better, and sometimes even bearable, and if he scratched the alphabet on the wall with crayons, I don't think I could love him any less as an author. Not an objective or critically discerning view, I know, but the heck that I treasure every drop of ink from his metaphorical pen, and if all that is left eventually are blots and splatters, I don't really care, it's good as diamonds to me.
Having said all that, I really did love Raising Steam, warts and all.
I have read a lot of the reviews and criticisms, and I understand some of the consternation many people feel. Initially, my reaction to Vetenari in particular was...woah, wait, what the heck? Vetenari was never that voluble, or expressive except in the most subtle way, and indeed there was some rambling and perhaps dilution of the usual sharpness of satire.
But...there is something very special about this book. It's gentler, sweeter, and, taken as a whole, sadder in that it feels like a "wrapping up" of Discworld, a last hurrah. All the cameos, which to some might seem scrappy or even irrelevant, felt like a cast gathering to take a bow. I don't want this to be the case, I really really don't, but that's what it seemed like to me.
Raising Steam did what every other discworld novel did for me, it made me laugh out loud more than once. From The Colour of Magic to this, Sir Terry has never once failed me in that respect. He has made my life better, and sometimes even bearable, and if he scratched the alphabet on the wall with crayons, I don't think I could love him any less as an author. Not an objective or critically discerning view, I know, but the heck that I treasure every drop of ink from his metaphorical pen, and if all that is left eventually are blots and splatters, I don't really care, it's good as diamonds to me.
Having said all that, I really did love Raising Steam, warts and all.