Feet of Clay

Title: Feet of Clay
Author: Terry Pratchett
Published: 1996
Genre: Humour Fantasy
Pages: 415


So, the year 2016 got off to an unhappy start: our sweet little kitty died after a short but nasty illness. To cheer up a little -or at least not to burst into tears every five minutes- I picked up a Pratchett. With David Bowie and Alan Rickman dying, I should have picked up many Pratchetts.

Feet of Clay! Picked this one up from my SO's shelf, who then realised that it's not actually hers, but her brother's book, which she borrowed some fifteen years ago. Oops. That didn't take anything away from my enjoyment of the book, just a fun fact.

It's not unusual in Ankh-Morpork, if one is wealthy enough, to buy a golem to work for you. They don't need money, food or rest, and they don't really have mouths, so they don't give you any lip. Then, two old men turn up dead, and all clues start to point towards golems. Commander Vimes and the City Watch soon have their hands full, especially when the Patrician suddenly falls ill. There's policing, slavery and gender issues a-plenty, but as usual, it's all so well-woven into a funny fantasy story that you don't even notice yourself thinking.


Samuel Vimes dreamed about Clues.
   He had a jaundiced view of Clues. He instinctively distrusted them. They got in the way.