In Mort, Terry Pratchett gives us the first in-depth look at the life of Death. The scythe. The room full of life-timers. The great white charger, Binky. Death goes on holiday, leaving his apprentice, Mort, in charge. Maybe not such a good idea, considering that young Mortimer was the last lad on offer on prenticing night, and that…
It wasn’t that he was unhelpful, but he had the kind of vague, cheerful helpfulness that serious men soon learn to dread.
While Death has an amusing time trying to understand what is this life that mortals are so keen to cling to, Mort seems to be on track to carry out his duties, until he does the worst possible thing–he falls in love. Mort stumbles into the crossfire of misunderstandings with Princess Keli and snipings from Death’s ward, Ysabel. Somehow, he grows from an awkward youth whose inquisitiveness will get him into big trouble, into a self-assured hero whose inquisitiveness saves him.
And I had an amusing time, beginning to understand what is this Discworld that readers are so keen to return to.