In Which We Discuss The Gate to Women's Country

The Gate to Women's Country is set in the future of our own world, as many of Tepper's books are. The world as we know it has been destroyed - in this case, judging by hints in the book, by nuclear power - and the resulting civilizations that form from the small pocketed remnants of humanity are usually vastly different although not entirely separated from the world we know. The alternative is that humanity eventually meets with other worlds, enabling different societies to be shown and contrasted in that way.

Anyway, the book begins with the main character, Stavia. She is heading for a meeting with her fifteen year old son, David, who has spent the last ten years living outside the city walls as a warrior, as all boys do. No man is tested in battle till the age of twenty-five; between the ages of fifteen and twenty-five he must make a choice; to return through the gate to women's country, renouncing the warriors, and living his life as a servitor, studying rather than fighting, or to renounce his mother and live outside as a warrior, returning only once a year for Carnival (the only time women and warriors meet in an intimate manner, although they may talk over the wall at other times). The servitors are looked down on by the warriors, and some are even attacked by their century as they return through the gate. It is rumoured among the warriors that the returning servitors are castrated. It is, at least, known that the servitors never father children, since every son is brought to his warrior father (a daughter's parentage is not discussed unless she seems to be becoming involved with a close relative). There are many cities in women's country (Stavia's home, and therefore the main setting of the book being Marthatown), the cities branching off when they reach the point where they are unable to support themselves on the land nearby.

While the women spend their lives learning, rediscovering the knowledge that was lost, and growing food, the warriors spend their time in ceremonies, games (with sports similar to our football/soccer), and, of course, in battles with other garrisons. Warriors are not allowed to study; the founders of women's country decided that wars must be fought in hand to hand combat. They refused to allow warriors to learn techniques that will enable them to attack cities, to kill many people at a distance, and so on. A warrior must see the face of the man he kills. Therefore, when a garrison goes to war, to protect its city, no women or children are killed. Only men who have chosen to fight do so.

However, some women, (often blinded with love for a certain warrior) feel that the ordinances are silly and pointless. A few women run away to live as whores outside the city, some because a warrior has convinced them that he will run away with them, and others simply because they prefer it. Others, including Stavia, break or bend the ordinances in other ways, often not fully realising the point of the ordinances and the effects of their actions.

Some of the warriors also feel that the ordinances are pointless. Some of them make a game of seducing women out of the city walls, while others have more ambitious and sinister plans. Some of the warriors feel that, even if they take over the cities, the women will continue growing food for, and supporting them, while they both have their cake and eat it. They believe that the women have some secret, some weapon or such, and they feel that they deserve to share in it. Several warriors believe that if the women do have such a weapon they would be fully justified in taking it, women being too weak to handle such power.

The rest of the story is told in flashbacks from Stavia's meeting with Dawid, most of the book focusing on Stavia's romance with Chernon, a young warrior. As Stavia struggles with her feelings for Chernon and her respect for the ordinances, which forbid much of what he asks her to do. As certain events come to pass, Stavia finally learns why women's country is the way it is.

The twist, when it finally comes, is amazing, and completely unexpected, despite the many hints and foreshadowing's in the book. I bullied my boyfriend into reading this, and I had to try so hard to stop myself from blurting it out before he got to it.

The characters are amazing, and have a great amount of depth. The servitor who lives with Stavia's family, Joshua, although presented as merely background for most of the book, is, in fact, one of the most important characters. The amount of depth and emotion given to him is incredible, and allows the reader to empathize with him perfectly.

Although this book is as old as I am, it doesn't seem at all dated to me. Despite being one of Tepper's shorter books, at just over three hundred pages, it still has a great amount of depth and plot for you to mull over.

The contrast of societies is also fascinating. Halfway through the book, another society, separate from women's country is introduced. This is more patriarchal, and practices bigamy, despite a shortage of females (due to a practice of female infanticide a decade or so before). The differences and similarities between this society, women's country, and our own world give you a lot to think about. No society is perfect of course, but the thought of something completely different is interesting.

This is a feminist book, so, naturally, many of the villains of the piece are male while many of the heroes are, in fact, heroines. Some characters, such as Joshua provide balance, but the book is essentially about the difference between stereotypical male and female values.

In summary, this book is amazing. I love Sheri S. Tepper's work, and although this isn't my favourite, it does have a certain charm all its own.

In Which We Discuss Prep

Prep is a coming of age novel, so it's more character than plot driven. It essentially tells the story of Lee Fiora, a girl from Indiana, who has worked hard to attain a scholarship for renowned New England Prep school, Ault.

Lee soon adopts an MO of simply hiding in the background and watching her classmates, being too shy and uncertain of herself (and her Midwest background) to try and fit in. Like any teenager, she worries about the smallest issues, which, most people come to realise, matter very little once you're past the age of thirteen.

In essence, the plot simply follows Lee throughout High School, in a way which is reminiscent of many peoples experiences in High, or Secondary school. Many events in the novel remind me of things which I recall from my own schooldays, despite being set about thirty years before (a date isn't given, but I'd guess late seventies), which only goes to show that teenagers don't change much.

Although none of them embody pure stereotypes (or at least none that I implicitly recognise), most of the characters in the novel fit the mold of rich East coast Prep school students, and, Lee, who, although she was confident before, becomes worried that her Midwest accent and lack of knowledge and experience in certain situations will give her away. Another issue is her relationship with her parents - at one point she observes that she hates them for thinking that she's like them; but she worries that if she isn't, she's betrayed them, and if she is, she's betrayed Ault and everything she worked for.

The obvious characters to mention would be Cross Sugarman and Aspeth Montgomery. Cross Sugarman is the popular boy, and, throughout most of her high school career, her crush. He's one of the few characters in the novel constantly referred to by both first name and last name - except for the times when he's called Purple Monkey (a code between Lee and a friend, when they wish to discuss things privately).

Aspeth is the popular girl - blonde-haired, blue-eyed, rich, and flirty. At one point, Lee describes her as "the girl rock songs are written about". Later in the novel, it becomes apparent that she's become used to getting her own way, merely because of who she is.

Dede Schwartz and Sin-Jun Kim also warrant a mention. The two girls were Lee's roommates during her first year at Ault, and, despite not being close friends, they remain in each others lives from then on.

Dede is a follower. Although she's rich, that doesn't make her special within Ault. Although she takes good care of herself, she's not as pretty as many of the other girls. She spends much of her time trying to get close to Aspeth, and is sometimes mean to Lee or other girls in this aim. However, she and Lee have an almost sibling-like relationship; they remain close despite any arguments, and despite the fact that they rarely talk.

Sin-Jun, Lee's other original roommate, is the daughter of a rich Korean business man. Although at first she keeps her head down, later in the novel she comes into her own, and ends up being one of the few people the adult Lee remains in contact with.

Sittenfeld's writing is easy to read, and she has a talent for description and dialogue. It was said of the novel that "Sittenfeld's dialogue is so convincing that one wonders if she didn't wear a wire under her hockey kilt," and I must say, I concur.

The novel isn't strong on plot, and yet reads well, driven by character, and by the automatic changes which take place during your high school years, driven purely by time rather than any outward events.

The novel deals a lot with stereotypes and cultural distinctions. This was sometimes a little confusing for me, or rather, did not make the impact intended, purely because I'm English, and the book is written presuming that the reader was brought up in America. A lot of the time, I needed to ask why it was such a big deal that Lee was from the Midwest, or, for instance, what exactly the cultural significance of New England was.

Another theme in the book is money. As a scholarship student, Lee feels inadequate compared to her classmates, and, as has been said, she spends a lot of time trying to hide this. She does, however, work out various ways to tell if other students are on scholarships or not. I didn't discuss Lee as a character, because, since the novel is told through first-person narrative, Lee is essentially a conduit rather than a character in her own right, especially considering that she usually takes a reactive, rather than an active role.

In summary, Prep's an interesting novel, and the ideas and experiences told within it would have been helpful to me at a younger age, and, in fact, are still relevant right now. It's suspected that the story is more autobiographical than it's supposed to be, and I can see where that impression came from.

All in all, it's an interesting, easy to read novel, although I suspect that a teenage girl, or someone in her early twenties would get more out of it than any other reader.

In Which We Discuss The Girls

The Girls tells the story of conjoined twins, Rose and Ruby Darlen. The story is told in first person, mostly from the point of view of Rose, and is designed as an autobiography. Rose's chapters are interspersed with shorter sections of Ruby's writing.

One of the more interesting things about the novel is how normal it seems. Conjoined twins are very rare, and it's likely that most people have never met a pair in their life, let alone gotten to know them well. Yet Lori Lansens manages to capture the situation almost perfectly, as far as it is possible for me to judge. Yes, conjoined twins are unusual, and it's impossible to forget that that's the situation of the people you're reading about; yet, after a time, one can put it to the back of their mind, as the characters have, and as I imagine conjoined twins would. It becomes normal.

Unlike in the 2003 film Stuck On You which dealt with a similar subject matter, The Girls doesn't attempt to poke fun at conjoined twins or even treat it in a comedic manner. The book can be funny, but it's in no way forced. The situation isn't treated as strangely; it's not in the same vein as the freak shows which existed in the last century, and served to highlight differences and exhibit the unusual. Instead, the most striking thing about the book is, if not exactly the normalcy, how believable and like people I could know the characters are.

Ruby and Rose are joined at the head; while Ruby's face is normal and even attractive, Rose's features are twisted and pulled by their conjoinment. Although their brains are completely separate, Rose and Ruby share a network of veins which makes their separation impossible. Rose's body is mostly fully formed, while Ruby's legs are stunted. Throughout their lives, Rose is forced to carry Ruby, each of them only being able to use one arm freely.

I suspect that Rose and Ruby are heavily based on real life conjoined twins Lori and George Schappell, from Pennsylvania. A number of coincidences within both sets of twins' physical structure, the nature of their conjoinment, and a few similarities in the way they deal their situation with have lead me to that conclusion.

The story is told by Rose and Ruby looking back over their lives, and describes their birth during a tornado, and their upbringing. Their mother was not seen again, and did not give her real name during their birth, and this theme of lost mothers and children subtly threads its way throughout the novel. One character who has a major effect on the twins' life is Cathy Merkel, a woman who lost her only son during the same tornado Rose and Ruby were born in, and there are many other times when a mother searching for children or children searching for their mother becomes important.

The book is almost a coming of age story, and so a number of plots and storylines are combined, with the changes within the characters more important than specific events.

In summary, The Girls is a fascinating look at the life of conjoined twins, and manages to be touching, sensitive, realistic, and lifelike.

In Which We Dicuss The Abortionist's Daughter

When high profile abortion doctor Diana Duprey is found dead in her home, at first it seems to be a simple accident; until, that is, the police find suspicious bruises on her body, and the case becomes that of a murder.

The book is told in third person, and focuses on a number of characters; significantly, the titular abortionist's daughter, Megan, Diana's husband Frank, and the police officers assigned to the case. It's a small town, and the various relationships that exist or begin between these characters effect the book and the situation in a myriad of ways.

One of the things I found most fascinating about The Abortionist's Daughter was the way in which so many themes are intertwined. At first, the main theme seems to be that of the relationship between mother and daughter, and this does remain relatively important throughout the book. But then, the themes which seemed merely subliminal at first subtly grow throughout the novel, and in a classic case of distracted attention, something the reader was only vaguely aware of seeps into ones consciousness and becomes the focal point of the novel.

However, this leads to a slight flaw; once the reader is aware of the true situation, and the story has become somewhat settled, it seems to be over too quickly.

It also leads to an interesting effect; normally, it is easy to say what a novel's about, but, in this case, it's far more difficult to articulate it so simply. One could say it's a novel about abortion, and that would be right, but it's hardly the full story. One reader could see it as being about the effects of keeping things from one's family, or about the problems with a lack of communication, even for the best reasons, and that would be right too. For me, the most important theme is that of obsession, and the dangers of it, although that isn't developed enough in comparison to other issues that one could claim it is the main feature of the book. The novel feels surprisingly fluid, and allows the reader to see in it what they will. That's an unusual effect in many novels, although the coming of age genre embodies it somewhat, and it's an interesting sensation. There are so many threads of plot, and so many ideas, and one cannot name which of them is the main strand, as each contribution is equally important.

It would be possible to draw themes of the law as relating to the protection of woman from the book – particularly the laws related to stalking, something which still isn't seen as a major problem in many parts of the world - but that would involve putting more stress than the author designed on those elements. The book isn't preachy, and if it aims to make a point, it does so with perfect delicacy. It's a story which shows a situation, not a moralistic tale.

The characters are likeable, for the most part, although none of them seem to be fully developed. It's not that they're two dimensional – more that there seems to be more to them than is displayed in the book. On the whole, this is more of a positive effect than a negative one; it feels like the reader is allowed a window into another life, and that there's more going on behind the scenes. Like the characters exist for more reasons than simply to walk on and off the page when it's convenient for the plot.

Terry Pratchett achieved something similar with his Discworld series, particularly the city of Ankh Morpork, which in many ways, seems like a real city, with people who would continue to exist and need feeding with or without the main characters getting on with the plot. The Abortionist's Daughter has a very adult feel compared to the Discworld books, however, which is not the say that the aforementioned series is childish. It's more that any book with the word "abortion" in the title has an odds-on chance of being particularly grotesque, as the subject itself is. The somewhat graphic descriptions are indeed slightly disturbing, although fortunately, they are relatively sparse throughout the novel, and are, for the most part, necessary to the plot.

The book doesn't really present a balanced argument of the pro-life/pro-choice debate, which isn't a bad thing. There are a number of situations showcased, and characters make different decisions; abortion is never an easy or comfortable decision, or even operation, and it's dealt with sensitively, yet without flinching away from the realness of it. The author expresses, through the characters, an opinion which I agree with as a solid pro-choicer, and for the pro-life campaigners, I respectfully suggest that this book isn't for you.

In Which We Discuss The Accidental Mother

The Accidental Mother follows the story of Sophie, a woman who has worked hard and is close to getting the promotion she has worked towards for years. She has no social life, and has issues with relationships; her one serious relationship was at the age of twenty-seven, and ended because she couldn't handle the commitment or emotions. However, when her best friend (who she has lost contact with, naturally) dies and leaves Sophie as the sole guardian of her two children, Sophie is forced to let other people become closer to her.

This is stereotypical chick-lit. Poor, lonely, closed in woman seeks person or people to bring her out of herself and make her world bright and shiny. The idea is not as overdone as some, but it's definitely been seen before. The characters, however, are entirely predictable and ever-so-slightly dull and stereotypical.

It's a sweet book, and there are a few surprises. However, any aficionado of such books will already know pretty much the full plot and characters. The only parts that really took me by surprise did so by being just as predictable as I'd feared they would be; I honestly thought writers grew out of those tired cliches ten years ago.

In summary, it's worth reading for anyone who really likes chick-lit, but other than that, don't bother. Really, don't.

In Which We Discuss Family Trust

This book is amazingly similar to The Accidental Mother, although Family Trust was written first, which further cements The Accidental Mother's place as a cheap rip off of better books.

Becca Reinhart is very focused on her career. Although the cliched career ice queen is a long standing figure in this sort of book, Becca manages to be both unique and likable. She doesn't have any commitment issues or anything similar that has prevented her from holding down a relationship, and nor is she getting over a broken heart, or the death of her father, or any other tragedy which would neatly explain why she needs some nice, loving man to open her eyes to what a reward family life really is. Becca doesn't need anything like that. She's a busy women who just happens not to be in a relationship, and isn't looking for one. To be honest, that's a very refreshing scenario.

Edward Kirkland is a typical rich, spoilt, high society kind of guy. His family set up is similar to that of Elle Woods in Legally Blonde (which was, perhaps not entirely surprisingly, written by the same author). His bride-to-be is named Bunny. Yes, Bunny. She's not his fiancee, you understand. She's simply the girl from the right family background, and the right set-up, who grew up with him, and who his mother (and everyone else, including Bunny herself) expects him to marry.

Although Eddie and Becca have never met, each has a friend who names them as guardian to their child. When these two parents die simultaneously in a plane accident, both wills are in effect. Since there are no obvious problems, both of these mismatched people are given charge of the four-year-old girl in question (while being closely watched by various legal representatives, natch). That's the basic plot of the book; how Becca and Eddie manage to subdue each other into submission and work together to raise a child.

Of course, there are other subplots and characters who contribute. Becca's capable mother, who insists on holding the title of grandmother (and acts accordingly). Eddie's mother who refuses to acknowledge his new daughter's presence. Bunny, Eddie's manipulative bride/stalker, who has no interest in the child and plans to ship her off to Switzerland, and, of course, (*Spoiler Warning*) the growing romance between Eddie and Becca (*End Spoiler*). Now, you saw that last bit coming, didn't you?

Family Trust is a book that should be cliched, but, through some miracle, isn't. The characters are all unique, and, if not likable in themselves, are at least not mind-numbingly boring. Eddie and Becca's growing love for their new daughter (they both immediately refer to her as their daughter, which is rather sweet) is adorable, and, although her parents are not even mentioned except in the past tense, Becca's relationship with the girl's mother and Eddie's with her father manage to be realistic and touching.

All in all, it's the good version of The Accidental Mother.

In Which We Discuss the Monstrous Regiment

There's a war on in Borogravia. This is not unusual.

For those who don't know the series, the Discworld is a flat disc of a world, which rests on the back of four giant elephants, who, in turn, rest on the back of a giant tortoise named Great A'tuin. The disc is made up of various cities, towns, and other areas. The main city is Ankh-Morpork, which a cross between Victorian London and modern day New York, with a dash of magic instead of electricity. Then there are the Ramtops, mountains that contain various small villages, as well as a few tribes of dwarfs and trolls. Although the Discworld books follow a rough chronological order, they do not follow the same characters. There are a few major story arcs, which several books in the series return to – for instance, Commander Vimes and the Ankh-Morpork City Watch, Rincewind the Wizzard [sic], Esme Weatherwax and the other Ramtop witches, and several others. Several books follow Death, a character who is the only one to claim the distinction of showing up in every single book, in however minor a role, which is suspected to signify that Death is always with us. Of course, he's far too endearing to be scary.

So far at least, Monstrous Regiment is one of the few stand-alone novels of the series, with characters who mostly have not, as yet, been heard from again. This is a pity.

Monstrous Regiment takes place in an area of the Disc that can best be compared to Western Europe or the Middle East. Borogravia, a country comparable in some ways to Russia, is always at war with the countries surrounding it. The Borogravian language, in fact, has a word that means, "The sun has risen! Let's make war!"

As Pratchett observes, it takes a very special kind of history to fit all that in one word.

As well as the constant war, Borogravia also suffers under the thumb of the god Nuggan. Nuggan can best be described as...strict. The Books of Nuggan are ring binders, so that extra pages can easily be added to accommodate all of Nuggan's abominations, which are updated with alarming regularity. Nuggan is strictly against the colour blue, babies, girls with long hair, the smell of beets, sneezing, chocolate, garlic and cats, among other things. He's also against land that was once used for growing grain or peas being used to grow root vegetables. In a farming economy like Borogravia that means no real crop rotation, which means the land is less fertile, which means, essentially, that Borogravia is starving.

And still the war goes on. But Borogravia is running out of young men.

Polly Perks' family owns an Inn named the Duchess, in Munz, one of the bigger towns of Borogravia. According to Nugganite law, Polly can't inherit the Inn, despite being the best candidate. Her brother, Paul, could have, but he's been missing in action for the past year or so. Despite his being the elder, Polly has always been responsible for taking care of Paul. So, to this end, she cuts off her hair, practices using the bathroom standing up, gets herself a pair of trousers, and, as Oliver, joins the Borogravian regiment, the Ins-and-Outs.

Polly isn't the only one to join. There's also Tonker and Lofty, the two who are never apart. Tonker's the brave, slightly violent one, while Lofty prefers to stay in the shadows. Then there's Shufti, who can cook, and Wazzer, who doesn't do much except stutter and pray. Carborundum is a troll, who doesn't really do much except act as a tank when needed.

There's also an Igor. Igor's in the Discworld belong to an odd tribe. All of them are called Igor, and they all have scars, which are the equivalent of tribal markings. They are brilliant surgeons, although their practice of using parts from dead bodies can make some people, particularly strict Nugganites, somewhat uncomfortable. As Igor points out, however, "Soldiers don't care who patches them up".

The final recruit is Maladict, a vampire, and a Black Ribboner. On the Discworld, vampires have begun to realize that if they want to get by in a modern society, they should probably stop drinking human blood, since it tends to make them unpopular. To this end, is the Black Ribbon society, a kind of vampire Alcoholics Anonymous. Vampires cannot stop craving blood; they can merely transfer the craving to something more socially acceptable. In Maladict's case, this is coffee, a supply of which is always carried with him.

These raw recruits come under the command of Corporal Strappi, who is not the sort of person whose orders you want to follow, and Sergeant Jackrum, who is almost legendary within the Borogravian army.

Strappi is somewhat prejudiced against certain of the recruits, particularly Igor and Maladict. Sergeant Jackrum addresses his concerns somewhat sardonically. When Maladict enlists, and Strappi asks "yeah, but s'posin' he wants to suck all my blood out in the middle of the night?" Jackrum replies "Well, he'll just have to wait until Private Igor's finished looking for your brain, won't he?"
right" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=deislite-20&o=1&p=8&l=bpl&asins=0060872675&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;">Some of the City Watch characters also show up – Commander Vimes, Sergeant Angua, Reg Shoe, and Buggy Swires, to name a few. For those of you who are new to the Discworld series, there are several books focusing on the City Watch, beginning with Guards, Guards! and including Men At Arms, Feet of Clay, Jingo, the Fifth Elephant, Night Watch, Thud! And Where's My Cow?, the latter two of which were published after Monstrous Regiment. Where's My Cow? focuses on Vimes and his son, and is aimed at young children, although there are various references that older readers will appreciate. William de Worde and Otto Chriek, from The Truth also make an appearance.

As the recruits march onwards they soon discover that, as opposed to what the various propaganda given to them says, they are not winning the war. Their country is dying. And yet, they can see no way out. They are too proud to surrender to Prince Heinrich of Zoblenia, who is something of a bully, and, as we see fairly early on, not a very nice man. So, the raw recruits of the Ins-And-Outs end up being dragged deeper and deeper into a war that they cannot see any way of winning. The only hope they have is sergeant Jackrum's promise; "You are my little lads…and I will look after you."

Terry Pratchett writes, as usual, in third-person, occasionally zooming in on one characters thoughts. Monstrous Regiment is somewhat reminiscent of Jingo, in subject matter. This book also contains more real world references than many others, especially when Maladict's coffee runs out, and he begins having flash-sideways (like flashbacks, only someone else's memories) to the Vietnam War. There are several other references to the Vietnam War, including Wazzer's statement that he's "N-n-nineteen," years old.

The novel is peppered with Pratchett's trademark footnotes, and hilarious dialogue. Sometimes the most mundane things are funny, simply due to the way he tells them. For instance, Maladict's saying "yo!" rather than "yes sir" as part of the effect of his lack of coffee cracks me up every time, although it doesn't sound like it should.

As usual, in Discworld novels, Pratchett satirizes the real world in some way. The obvious themes of Monstrous Regiment are feminism, folk songs, patriotism, crippling belief systems and the military. One scene, near the beginning of the book shows the recruits marching in one direction while a large number of civilians race in the opposite direction. Many of them appear to be carrying their entire homes on their backs. The following exchange takes place between Maladict and Corporal Strappi;

"What's this all about, Sarge? These look like refugees!"

"Talk like that spreads Alarm and Despondency!"

"Oh, you mean they're just people getting away early for the holidays to avoid the rush? Sorry, I got confused. It must be that woman carrying a whole haystack we just passed."

"D' you know what can happen to you for insulting a superior officer?"

"No! Tell me, is it worse than whatever it is these people are running away from?"

"You signed up, Mr. Bloodsucker! You obey orders!"

"Right! But I don't remember anyone ordering me not to think!"

Another interesting aspect of the Discworld is that the strangest things in the books are those taken almost entirely from real life, rather than the fictional elements. An example is Pratchett's description of a battlefield as a resembling a moving city. It sounds ridiculous that a battlefield could resemble a city, but during a long siege, well, men have needs. To be honest, that isn't the best example, but there are so many small ones within this novel, and all the Discworld books, that later research will often have you saying, "I thought he made that up!" Or it does me, rather. I'm exactly the kind of person to make a point of digging out tiny references, which just makes the series more enjoyable.

Throughout this review, I've quoted examples of dialogue from the book, and this is a common side effect of Discworld novels. To annoy everyone by reciting your favourite passages. I've exercised some restraint here, but honestly, you can open the book at random, and pretty much all of it is quotable.

In summary, this is a great addition to the Discworld series, introducing new characters, expanding on previously little or unvisited countries, and returning some older characters, too. This is the Discworld book I most often recommend as an introduction to the series. It's late enough in the series that Terry Pratchett has really settled in to writing the books, and as a stand-alone, there's no back-story that needs to be explained. In some of the earliest Discworld books, I got the distinct impression that Pratchett was merely showing off at times, and sometimes the references and satire were too heavy for the book to easily cope with. Happily, this isn't a criticism that can be levied at this book. Monstrous Regiment is my single favourite Discworld book, and in such a great series, that's saying something.