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243 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published November 12, 1987
"Rather than drown in uncertainty it was best to surf right on top of it."
"There should be a word for the microscopic spark of hope that you dare not entertain in case the mere act of acknowledging it will cause it to vanish, like trying to look at a photon. You can only sidle up to it, looking past it, walking past it, waiting for it to get big enough to face the world."
Mort is an inept resident of Discworld with a good heart and zero common sense. Worried about his son’s future, his father decides to loan him as an apprentice to whoever would hire him. As luck would have it, Death aka the Grim Reaper is looking for an apprentice, and seeing Mort’s response to his arrival, picks him up immediately. (It helps that all the other candidates were already chosen.)
Death plans to let Mort help him collect souls with his scythe while he himself explores what humankind has to offer. With Death’s powerful scythe, an ability to walk through walls, free lodging, and access to the magnificent Binky, Mort thinks he can handle what has been asked of him. But the question is: can he actually do so?
Scientists have calculated that the chance of anything so patently absurd actually existing are millions to one. But magicians have calculated that million-to-one chances crop up nine times out of ten.This is the story all about how Mort's life got flipped, turned upside down... One day, Death decides to find an apprentice. His all-seeing eye lands on a young lad [MORT!] who is rather disliked by his father and uncle.
It was also acutely embarrassing to Mort's family that the youngest son was not at all serious and had the same talent for horticulture that you would find in a dead starfish. It wasn't that he was unhelpful, but he had the kind of vague, cheerful helpfulness that serious men soon learn to dread. There was something infectious, possibly even fatal, about it.His father and uncle decide to send him off to an apprenticeship so the unfortunate boy who appeared to have been built out of knees would become someone else's problem. On apprentice market day, nobody seems keen to pick Mort, until that evening, Death shows up. But don't fear the reaper, he isn't here to collect souls.
The awesome splendour of the universe is much easier to deal with if you think of it as a series of small chunks.I don't know if theoretical physicists know about this but someone get one on the line and show them this. It may be helpful to their understanding of the universe.
“People don't alter history any more than birds alter the sky, they just make brief patterns in it.”
“Although the scythe isn't pre-eminent among the weapons of war, anyone who has been on the wrong end of, say, a peasants' revolt will know that in skilled hands it is fearsome.”