Making Money
2007
- postal service
- discworld (imaginary place)
- science fiction & fantasy
- ex-convicts in fiction
- paper money
- ex-convicts
- postal service in fiction
- fiction
- science fiction
- paper money in fiction
The story
The Ankh-Morpork Post Office is running like . . . well, not at all like a government office. The mail is delivered promptly; meetings start and end on time; five out of six letters relegated to the Blind Letter Office ultimately wend their way to the correct addresses. Postmaster General Moist von Lipwig, former arch-swindler and confidence man, has exceeded all expectations—including his own. So it's somewhat disconcerting when Lord Vetinari summons Moist to the palace and asks, "Tell me, Mr. Lipwig, would you like to make some real money?"Vetinari isn't talking about wages, of course. He's referring, rather, to the Royal Mint of Ankh-Morpork, a venerable institution that haas run for centuries on the hereditary employment of the Men of the Sheds and their loyal outworkers, who do make money in their spare time. Unfortunately, it costs more than a penny to make a penny, so the whole process seems somewhat counterintuitive.Next door, at the Royal Bank, the Glooper, an "analogy machine," has scientifically established that one never has quite as much money at the end of the week as one thinks one should, and the bank's chairman, one elderly Topsy (nee Turvy) Lavish, keeps two loaded crossbows at her desk. Oh, and the chief clerk is probably a vampire.But before Moist has time to fully consider Vetinari's question, fate answers it for him. Now he's not only making money, but enemies too; he's got to spring a prisoner from jail, break into his own bank vault, stop the new manager from licking his face, and, above all, find out where all the gold has gone—otherwise, his life in banking, while very exciting, is going to be really, really short. . . .
What it’s like
Brisk, witty and warmly absurd, like a sunny afternoon with a mischievous grin. The prose is quick and conversational, full of footnote-style asides, deadpan one-liners and cheerfully overwrought bureaucratic comedy, so it reads fast and rewards a lazy Sunday or a long train ride. Ankh-Morpork's grimy streets, ink-stained counting houses, clacking brass machinery and gaslit clerical offices give it a cosy, lived-in, slightly soot-dusted feel, a fantasy city that feels more like a crowded Victorian port than a dark epic. Tone is light and low-stakes, with peril that is mostly comic: threats of gunfire and crossbow bolts, a few scuffles and a grim execution-flavoured mood now and then, but no real gore and nothing lingering or disturbing. The arc follows a charming rogue who gradually discovers that honest work and a sense of purpose suit him better than cons, with a cast of eccentric, affectionate supporting characters. Ideal for readers who want clever, funny fantasy with a sharp satirical streak and a warm heart, especially fans of gentle, witty comic fantasy who enjoy a fast read and a fond wink at money, bureaucracy and human nature.
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