[mangamadaiyan]

That Sir Terry had a facility with language is true. It also does no justice to that aspect of his writing.

How could anyone with half an imagination read something like "Octarine ... the undisputed pigment of the imagination" and not laugh? I'm not even going to mention the reflected-sound-of-underground-spirits, or Cohen the Barbarian, or the many names of Bloody Stupid Johnson.

I find it marginally painful that someone is hesitant to try reading a new (to them) author. If one turns away from Pratchett in hesitation, what fate might befall Chinua Achebe, or Ryszard Kapuscinski, say? I wonder if it says something about the kind and quantity of pretentious garbage (literary, cinematic, political, and otherwise) that surrounds us and pervades almost all aspects of our lives - so much so that we are afraid of spending a little time reading a book that we might not like?