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Discworld #1-3
Die Magie der Scheibenwelt
Bevat de boeken:
- De Kleur van Toverij
- Dat Wonderbare Licht
- Meidezeggenschap
- De Kleur van Toverij
- Dat Wonderbare Licht
- Meidezeggenschap
894 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2001
10 people are currently reading
339 people want to read
About the author
Terry Pratchett
680 books46.2k followersSir Terence David John Pratchett was an English author, humorist, and satirist, best known for the Discworld series of 41 comic fantasy novels published between 1983–2015, and for the apocalyptic comedy novel Good Omens (1990), which he co-wrote with Neil Gaiman.
Pratchett's first novel, The Carpet People, was published in 1971. The first Discworld novel, The Colour of Magic, was published in 1983, after which Pratchett wrote an average of two books a year. The final Discworld novel, The Shepherd's Crown, was published in August 2015, five months after his death.
With more than 100 million books sold worldwide in 43 languages, Pratchett was the UK's best-selling author of the 1990s. He was appointed an Officer of the Order of the British Empire (OBE) in 1998 and was knighted for services to literature in the 2009 New Year Honours. In 2001 he won the annual Carnegie Medal for The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents, the first Discworld book marketed for children. He received the World Fantasy Award for Life Achievement in 2010.
In December 2007 Pratchett announced that he had been diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer's disease. He later made a substantial public donation to the Alzheimer's Research Trust (now Alzheimer's Research UK, ARUK), filmed three television programmes chronicling his experiences with the condition for the BBC, and became a patron of ARUK. Pratchett died on 12 March 2015, at the age of 66.
Pratchett's first novel, The Carpet People, was published in 1971. The first Discworld novel, The Colour of Magic, was published in 1983, after which Pratchett wrote an average of two books a year. The final Discworld novel, The Shepherd's Crown, was published in August 2015, five months after his death.
With more than 100 million books sold worldwide in 43 languages, Pratchett was the UK's best-selling author of the 1990s. He was appointed an Officer of the Order of the British Empire (OBE) in 1998 and was knighted for services to literature in the 2009 New Year Honours. In 2001 he won the annual Carnegie Medal for The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents, the first Discworld book marketed for children. He received the World Fantasy Award for Life Achievement in 2010.
In December 2007 Pratchett announced that he had been diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer's disease. He later made a substantial public donation to the Alzheimer's Research Trust (now Alzheimer's Research UK, ARUK), filmed three television programmes chronicling his experiences with the condition for the BBC, and became a patron of ARUK. Pratchett died on 12 March 2015, at the age of 66.
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Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews
July 20, 2018
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April 7, 2024
Hilarious, great characters, great world building, and comforting. I hope the pessimistic wizard and silly tourist will return in the next books.
February 13, 2017
Die Farben der Magie **
So beginnt es also, die schier unendliche Bücherflut der Scheibenwelt. Schon lange wollte ich damit befassen und dank dem Sammelband "Die Magie der Scheibenwelt" erhielt ich eine wunderbare Einstiegsmöglichkeit. Diese erste Geschichte um den Zauberer Ricewind ist allerdings noch sehr zerfahren und verzettelt. Auf weniger als 300 Seiten führt Terry Pratchett den Leser nicht nur in seine Fantasiewelt ein, er serviert auch unzähligen Figuren und Merkwürdigkeiten auf dem Tablett. Dies hat zur Folge, dass man sich nicht wirklich in die Geschichte eingeben kann und vieles auch etwas egal erscheint.
Ebenso scheint der Autor hier seinen Stil noch nicht ganz gefunden zu haben. Somit ist die Geschichte zwar immer wieder mit Seitenhieben auf unsere moderne Gesellschaft gespickt, wirklich bissig und böse wird der Humor aber selten. Vielmehr wirkt es wie ein Herantasten und Ausprobieren. Sicherlich, als eröffnendes Kapitel ist "The Colour Of Magic" ganz ok, eine Grosstat aber bei weitem nicht. Die Scheibenwelt werde ich aber für mindestens zwei weitere Romane noch nicht verlassen.
Das Licht der Phantasie ***
"The Light Fantastic" war nicht nur der zweite Roman der Scheibenwelt-Saga, sondern auch die direkte Fortsetzung des ersten Buches über den Zauberer Rincewind. Somit darf der Roman als einziger von sich behaupten, direkt an seinen Vorgänge anzuschliessen - ein Umstand der sonst bei Discworld nie mehr vorkam. Als Leser darf man somit genauer erforschen, was dem sehr unbeholfenen Zauberer noch alles so passiert.
Terry Pratchett schafft es im Gegensatz zum Erstling hier etwas besser, eine kohärente Geschichte zu formulieren. Langsam findet sich sein Stil, der Humor wird geschickter in den Text eingewebt. Doch leider vermochte mich der Inhalt auch hier nicht zu packen und erneut ist das Fantasy-Genre kein Gewinn für mich. Etwas wirr auch die sehr merkwürdigen Namen, vielen Geschehnissen und Nennungen. Sicherlich, es entsteht das gelungene Bild eines neuen Kosmos, doch fehlt soweit noch die Gravitation, die alles zusammenhält.
Das Erbe des Zauberers ***
"Das Erbe des Zauberers" - oder im Original eindeutig passender mit "Equal Rites" betitelt - schliesst meinen Einstieg in die Scheibenwelt ab. Mit dem dritten Buch zu seiner schier unendlichen Sage verliess Terry Pratchett den Alltag von Zauberer Rincewind und wandte sich den Hexen zu. Im Buch darf man noch tiefer in die Strukturen der Magie eintauchen und erfährt vieles zu den Traditionen und Hierarchien in der Scheibenwelt.
Pratchett konnte mich mit diesem Werk bisher am stärksten überzeugen, macht die Geschichte doch Spass und bietet immer wieder saftige Seitenhiebe auf unsere Gesellschaft. Sicherlich ist das Buch oft nur leichte Unterhaltung ohne grosse Tiefe, immer wieder lassen einem gewisse Sätze und Passagen jedoch laut auflachen. Absurd und doch ungefährlich - aber immer herzensgut.
So beginnt es also, die schier unendliche Bücherflut der Scheibenwelt. Schon lange wollte ich damit befassen und dank dem Sammelband "Die Magie der Scheibenwelt" erhielt ich eine wunderbare Einstiegsmöglichkeit. Diese erste Geschichte um den Zauberer Ricewind ist allerdings noch sehr zerfahren und verzettelt. Auf weniger als 300 Seiten führt Terry Pratchett den Leser nicht nur in seine Fantasiewelt ein, er serviert auch unzähligen Figuren und Merkwürdigkeiten auf dem Tablett. Dies hat zur Folge, dass man sich nicht wirklich in die Geschichte eingeben kann und vieles auch etwas egal erscheint.
Ebenso scheint der Autor hier seinen Stil noch nicht ganz gefunden zu haben. Somit ist die Geschichte zwar immer wieder mit Seitenhieben auf unsere moderne Gesellschaft gespickt, wirklich bissig und böse wird der Humor aber selten. Vielmehr wirkt es wie ein Herantasten und Ausprobieren. Sicherlich, als eröffnendes Kapitel ist "The Colour Of Magic" ganz ok, eine Grosstat aber bei weitem nicht. Die Scheibenwelt werde ich aber für mindestens zwei weitere Romane noch nicht verlassen.
Das Licht der Phantasie ***
"The Light Fantastic" war nicht nur der zweite Roman der Scheibenwelt-Saga, sondern auch die direkte Fortsetzung des ersten Buches über den Zauberer Rincewind. Somit darf der Roman als einziger von sich behaupten, direkt an seinen Vorgänge anzuschliessen - ein Umstand der sonst bei Discworld nie mehr vorkam. Als Leser darf man somit genauer erforschen, was dem sehr unbeholfenen Zauberer noch alles so passiert.
Terry Pratchett schafft es im Gegensatz zum Erstling hier etwas besser, eine kohärente Geschichte zu formulieren. Langsam findet sich sein Stil, der Humor wird geschickter in den Text eingewebt. Doch leider vermochte mich der Inhalt auch hier nicht zu packen und erneut ist das Fantasy-Genre kein Gewinn für mich. Etwas wirr auch die sehr merkwürdigen Namen, vielen Geschehnissen und Nennungen. Sicherlich, es entsteht das gelungene Bild eines neuen Kosmos, doch fehlt soweit noch die Gravitation, die alles zusammenhält.
Das Erbe des Zauberers ***
"Das Erbe des Zauberers" - oder im Original eindeutig passender mit "Equal Rites" betitelt - schliesst meinen Einstieg in die Scheibenwelt ab. Mit dem dritten Buch zu seiner schier unendlichen Sage verliess Terry Pratchett den Alltag von Zauberer Rincewind und wandte sich den Hexen zu. Im Buch darf man noch tiefer in die Strukturen der Magie eintauchen und erfährt vieles zu den Traditionen und Hierarchien in der Scheibenwelt.
Pratchett konnte mich mit diesem Werk bisher am stärksten überzeugen, macht die Geschichte doch Spass und bietet immer wieder saftige Seitenhiebe auf unsere Gesellschaft. Sicherlich ist das Buch oft nur leichte Unterhaltung ohne grosse Tiefe, immer wieder lassen einem gewisse Sätze und Passagen jedoch laut auflachen. Absurd und doch ungefährlich - aber immer herzensgut.
May 31, 2025
1. Colour of magic ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐
All legends must, inevitably, have a point of origin. For the inimitable Discworld series, this diminutive volume—oft-overlooked depending on the edition (particularly when deprived of Kirby’s illustrations)—constitutes the zero point, the Big Bang, the fiat lux.
A flat world, disc-shaped (a veritable delight for the modern flat-earther, albeit one lacking the cranial geometry requisite for such a read), rests atop the backs of four colossal elephants (a fifth exists, though we shall not entangle ourselves with it just yet), themselves poised upon the mighty carapace of the cosmic turtle, Great A’Tuin, who swims through the sparse aether of the universe, seemingly without destination. Of course, water cascades endlessly into the void from the rim of the disc; naturally, there is no 'north' or 'south', but rather 'hubward' and 'rimward'; and indeed, there is magic, heroism, cowardice, wizards, books so potent they must be chained down (yet still manage to plant spells into the minds of hapless apprentices), and—perhaps most fantastically—a tourist. With a trunk...
Terry Pratchett (who, most tragically, succumbed to Alzheimer’s disease in 2015—a cruel irony for a mind so incisive) skewers every cliché of the fantasy genre—swords, sorcery, and dragons, as one might say in plainer speech—with unparalleled wit, never missing an opportunity to draw trenchant parallels with our own world. These parallels, as the series progresses, become increasingly sophisticated, increasingly ludicrous, and, correspondingly, increasingly delightful—culminating in an entire spin-off metatextual series: The Science of Discworld.
The narrative is not, one must note, self-contained in this first instalment. It finds its resolution in the second volume, The Light Fantastic—in essence, the two comprise a single diptych. Nonetheless, the foundation is laid, the seed planted; whether you shall be enchanted by the exceptional prose of one of the 20th century’s most sagacious authors is now, quite simply, a matter for your own discovery. If you are only now embarking upon this journey, I must confess—I envy you. For before you lies a corpus of over forty unwritten (for you, at least) tomes, filled with marvel and delight. Granted, the later volumes bear the melancholy mark of Pratchett’s illness, and, lamentably, his publishers continued to exploit the franchise... yet, from a certain point onward—when his style attains full maturity—the humour gracefully yields primacy to philosophical resonance, without compromising the pleasure of the text.
Tarry no longer. Awaiting your acquaintance are the most ineffectual wizard in all creation (though he at least bears a hat which clearly proclaims his station), the most ingenuous tourist the Disc has ever known, and a magical world, vast and strange, for you to explore in their improbable company.
2. Light Fantastic ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐
If The Colour of Magic was the initial spark — the proverbial kick to the gears — then The Light Fantastic is the blowtorch (or the choke, or the flap, or indeed the compressor) that irrevocably sets the Discworld engine in motion. It is not a "sequel" in the conventional sense; rather, it constitutes the indispensable second half of a single, continuous narrative. A book that commences precisely at the final page of its predecessor — almost as if that page had never been turned.
The thoroughly inept wizard Rincewind continues his valiant attempts not to die; the ever-optimistic tourist Twoflower persists in documenting, with charming naïveté, the most chaotic world in the cosmos; and the Luggage continues to scurry about on its hundred little legs, brimming with the zeal of a... homicidal puppy. Meanwhile, Magic begins to shake the very foundations of reality; the great turtle A’Tuin edges ever closer to a celestial consort; and the wizards of the Unseen (and highly magical) University — who never miss a chance for subterfuge — attempt to “resolve” the crisis in the most traditional of manners: with rather more magic, and only marginally less reason.
Pratchett retains the same frenetic, almost cartoonish energy that characterised the first volume, yet something here has shifted: one begins to perceive the cracks behind the smile. Not from fatigue, but from depth. Behind the humorous dust jacket and the linguistic acrobatics, the author has begun to assemble an entire world — one governed by its own peculiar laws (or rather, its own deliberate infractions of them). The first strains of seriousness emerge gradually, like a cello playing softly behind the orchestra of punchlines.
It is also worth noting that this is where we encounter the first genuine inklings of Discworld cosmology — something that shall evolve into a rich mythology, as resonant in meaning as it is abundant in trolls, elves, golems, bureaucrats, librarian-orangutans, and arcane metaphysical regulations.
If you finished the first book wondering, “Yes, but what happens next?”, then The Light Fantastic is not merely the next chapter — it is the inevitable continuation of a journey that was never about destination, but always about manic, unstoppable momentum. And now that the first foundations of this strange new world have been laid, its protagonists begin to resemble less caricatures and more... heroes. Or at the very least, people. Or something, at any rate, that carries emotions, terror, and perhaps a bit of sausage in a pouch inside the Luggage.
If you’re reading these books in order, congratulations: you’ve arrived at the end of the beginning. If not, do yourself a favour and turn back to page one — the worlds Pratchett has wrought deserve to be witnessed as they assemble, piece by absurd, affectionate, and razor-sharp piece.
Equal Rites are coming (pun intended). Hold on!
3. Equal Rites ⭐ ⭐ ⭐
Equal Rites, the third book in the Discworld series, marks a decisive turning point in the literary trajectory of Terry Pratchett. It is here that we encounter his first truly unforgettable heroine, Eskarina Smith, through whom a significant social concern emerges—one that could easily have lapsed into didacticism: gender discrimination, particularly within the realm of magic.
Published in the now distant 1987, the novel is in dialogue with the second-wave feminist movement, which concentrated on gender inequality across professional and social spheres. The protagonist—a young girl who claims the right to become a "wizard"—embodies the demand for equal opportunities irrespective of gender. Though Pratchett deftly sidesteps overt moralising, the narrative tension between “masculine” and “feminine” forms of magic functions as a pointed allegory for societal expectations and the structures of power. With humour and considerable acuity, the author dismantles the tradition that relegates women to “supporting” roles, doing so at a time when such narratives were rarely afforded space within the fantasy genre.
The plot itself is elegantly simple: it follows Esk, a girl who "accidentally" acquires the power of a wizard—an occurrence unthinkable in a world where wizardry is an exclusively male preserve, while women are expected to engage in the supposedly inferior domain of witchcraft. At her side stands Granny Weatherwax, the enigmatic and irascible witch of the mountains, and one of the Discworld's most iconic characters. With her stubbornness, wisdom, and occasionally unsettling logic, Granny assumes the role of mentor, guiding Esk through a world unprepared to accept her.
Granny Weatherwax, who begins Equal Rites as a seemingly archetypal (if slightly sharper or more indulgent than average) mountain witch, rapidly develops into one of the most complex and respected figures in the Discworld canon. In the later works of the Witches subseries—such as Wyrd Sisters, Lords and Ladies, and Carpe Jugulum—Granny acquires a philosophical, moral, and existential depth. Beneath her sardonic manner and rigorous rationality lies a tireless advocate of common sense and the “hidden good.” Her relationship with power, identity, and choice renders her a truly remarkable fictional hero: a counterweight to arrogance and institutional authority. It is no coincidence that she frequently steals the limelight even from the wizards of Ankh-Morpork.
Pratchett’s humour is ever-present: linguistic playfulness, witty dialogues, and surreal reversals dissect the conventions and clichés of traditional fantasy. However, the narrative has not yet attained the structural assurance or philosophical maturity of his later work. The plot remains relatively straightforward and linear, and the underlying message—though timely and insightful—is at times articulated in a direct and somewhat predictable manner.
Equal Rites is a charming, often amusing read—particularly suited to those interested in witnessing the emergence of some of Discworld’s most beloved figures. Though it does not rank among Pratchett’s masterpieces, it serves as a bridge: a transitional step from near-slapstick parody towards social satire imbued with depth and emotional resonance. It is an honest, humorous, and important milestone in the evolution of Discworld: imperfect, to be sure, yet unmistakably marked by the voice of an author beginning to discover his true range.
All legends must, inevitably, have a point of origin. For the inimitable Discworld series, this diminutive volume—oft-overlooked depending on the edition (particularly when deprived of Kirby’s illustrations)—constitutes the zero point, the Big Bang, the fiat lux.
A flat world, disc-shaped (a veritable delight for the modern flat-earther, albeit one lacking the cranial geometry requisite for such a read), rests atop the backs of four colossal elephants (a fifth exists, though we shall not entangle ourselves with it just yet), themselves poised upon the mighty carapace of the cosmic turtle, Great A’Tuin, who swims through the sparse aether of the universe, seemingly without destination. Of course, water cascades endlessly into the void from the rim of the disc; naturally, there is no 'north' or 'south', but rather 'hubward' and 'rimward'; and indeed, there is magic, heroism, cowardice, wizards, books so potent they must be chained down (yet still manage to plant spells into the minds of hapless apprentices), and—perhaps most fantastically—a tourist. With a trunk...
Terry Pratchett (who, most tragically, succumbed to Alzheimer’s disease in 2015—a cruel irony for a mind so incisive) skewers every cliché of the fantasy genre—swords, sorcery, and dragons, as one might say in plainer speech—with unparalleled wit, never missing an opportunity to draw trenchant parallels with our own world. These parallels, as the series progresses, become increasingly sophisticated, increasingly ludicrous, and, correspondingly, increasingly delightful—culminating in an entire spin-off metatextual series: The Science of Discworld.
The narrative is not, one must note, self-contained in this first instalment. It finds its resolution in the second volume, The Light Fantastic—in essence, the two comprise a single diptych. Nonetheless, the foundation is laid, the seed planted; whether you shall be enchanted by the exceptional prose of one of the 20th century’s most sagacious authors is now, quite simply, a matter for your own discovery. If you are only now embarking upon this journey, I must confess—I envy you. For before you lies a corpus of over forty unwritten (for you, at least) tomes, filled with marvel and delight. Granted, the later volumes bear the melancholy mark of Pratchett’s illness, and, lamentably, his publishers continued to exploit the franchise... yet, from a certain point onward—when his style attains full maturity—the humour gracefully yields primacy to philosophical resonance, without compromising the pleasure of the text.
Tarry no longer. Awaiting your acquaintance are the most ineffectual wizard in all creation (though he at least bears a hat which clearly proclaims his station), the most ingenuous tourist the Disc has ever known, and a magical world, vast and strange, for you to explore in their improbable company.
2. Light Fantastic ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐
If The Colour of Magic was the initial spark — the proverbial kick to the gears — then The Light Fantastic is the blowtorch (or the choke, or the flap, or indeed the compressor) that irrevocably sets the Discworld engine in motion. It is not a "sequel" in the conventional sense; rather, it constitutes the indispensable second half of a single, continuous narrative. A book that commences precisely at the final page of its predecessor — almost as if that page had never been turned.
The thoroughly inept wizard Rincewind continues his valiant attempts not to die; the ever-optimistic tourist Twoflower persists in documenting, with charming naïveté, the most chaotic world in the cosmos; and the Luggage continues to scurry about on its hundred little legs, brimming with the zeal of a... homicidal puppy. Meanwhile, Magic begins to shake the very foundations of reality; the great turtle A’Tuin edges ever closer to a celestial consort; and the wizards of the Unseen (and highly magical) University — who never miss a chance for subterfuge — attempt to “resolve” the crisis in the most traditional of manners: with rather more magic, and only marginally less reason.
Pratchett retains the same frenetic, almost cartoonish energy that characterised the first volume, yet something here has shifted: one begins to perceive the cracks behind the smile. Not from fatigue, but from depth. Behind the humorous dust jacket and the linguistic acrobatics, the author has begun to assemble an entire world — one governed by its own peculiar laws (or rather, its own deliberate infractions of them). The first strains of seriousness emerge gradually, like a cello playing softly behind the orchestra of punchlines.
It is also worth noting that this is where we encounter the first genuine inklings of Discworld cosmology — something that shall evolve into a rich mythology, as resonant in meaning as it is abundant in trolls, elves, golems, bureaucrats, librarian-orangutans, and arcane metaphysical regulations.
If you finished the first book wondering, “Yes, but what happens next?”, then The Light Fantastic is not merely the next chapter — it is the inevitable continuation of a journey that was never about destination, but always about manic, unstoppable momentum. And now that the first foundations of this strange new world have been laid, its protagonists begin to resemble less caricatures and more... heroes. Or at the very least, people. Or something, at any rate, that carries emotions, terror, and perhaps a bit of sausage in a pouch inside the Luggage.
If you’re reading these books in order, congratulations: you’ve arrived at the end of the beginning. If not, do yourself a favour and turn back to page one — the worlds Pratchett has wrought deserve to be witnessed as they assemble, piece by absurd, affectionate, and razor-sharp piece.
Equal Rites are coming (pun intended). Hold on!
3. Equal Rites ⭐ ⭐ ⭐
Equal Rites, the third book in the Discworld series, marks a decisive turning point in the literary trajectory of Terry Pratchett. It is here that we encounter his first truly unforgettable heroine, Eskarina Smith, through whom a significant social concern emerges—one that could easily have lapsed into didacticism: gender discrimination, particularly within the realm of magic.
Published in the now distant 1987, the novel is in dialogue with the second-wave feminist movement, which concentrated on gender inequality across professional and social spheres. The protagonist—a young girl who claims the right to become a "wizard"—embodies the demand for equal opportunities irrespective of gender. Though Pratchett deftly sidesteps overt moralising, the narrative tension between “masculine” and “feminine” forms of magic functions as a pointed allegory for societal expectations and the structures of power. With humour and considerable acuity, the author dismantles the tradition that relegates women to “supporting” roles, doing so at a time when such narratives were rarely afforded space within the fantasy genre.
The plot itself is elegantly simple: it follows Esk, a girl who "accidentally" acquires the power of a wizard—an occurrence unthinkable in a world where wizardry is an exclusively male preserve, while women are expected to engage in the supposedly inferior domain of witchcraft. At her side stands Granny Weatherwax, the enigmatic and irascible witch of the mountains, and one of the Discworld's most iconic characters. With her stubbornness, wisdom, and occasionally unsettling logic, Granny assumes the role of mentor, guiding Esk through a world unprepared to accept her.
Granny Weatherwax, who begins Equal Rites as a seemingly archetypal (if slightly sharper or more indulgent than average) mountain witch, rapidly develops into one of the most complex and respected figures in the Discworld canon. In the later works of the Witches subseries—such as Wyrd Sisters, Lords and Ladies, and Carpe Jugulum—Granny acquires a philosophical, moral, and existential depth. Beneath her sardonic manner and rigorous rationality lies a tireless advocate of common sense and the “hidden good.” Her relationship with power, identity, and choice renders her a truly remarkable fictional hero: a counterweight to arrogance and institutional authority. It is no coincidence that she frequently steals the limelight even from the wizards of Ankh-Morpork.
Pratchett’s humour is ever-present: linguistic playfulness, witty dialogues, and surreal reversals dissect the conventions and clichés of traditional fantasy. However, the narrative has not yet attained the structural assurance or philosophical maturity of his later work. The plot remains relatively straightforward and linear, and the underlying message—though timely and insightful—is at times articulated in a direct and somewhat predictable manner.
Equal Rites is a charming, often amusing read—particularly suited to those interested in witnessing the emergence of some of Discworld’s most beloved figures. Though it does not rank among Pratchett’s masterpieces, it serves as a bridge: a transitional step from near-slapstick parody towards social satire imbued with depth and emotional resonance. It is an honest, humorous, and important milestone in the evolution of Discworld: imperfect, to be sure, yet unmistakably marked by the voice of an author beginning to discover his true range.
December 28, 2016
Die ersten drei Bände der Scheibenweltromane - einfach großartiges Kopfkino und geniale Phantasie !!! Meine Neuentdeckung!
March 26, 2017
40 of so books, different collections, some audio, it's pratchett, read and heard some as well, all. Dates wrong.
Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews