I Shall Wear Midnight by Terry Pratchett
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Terry Pratchett is a genius! This book is the fourth in the Tiffany Aching Adventures, and my favorite so far, I think. Tiffany is a sixteen-year-old witch, self-assured and very wise beyond her years, yet still down to earth (or, in her case, chalk) and still sixteen. She is once again joined by her small, blue, kilted, ale-drinking, fist-fighting, hygienically challenged, oft-invisible clan of Nac Mac Feegles who provide the story’s comic relief. Her nemesis this time is the Cunning Man–the pure, stinking essence of evil left eons ago when a witch-burning fanatic was drawn into the flames himself by one of his young victims. Tiffany realizes that a bit of him exists in all of us as the seed of doubt, fear and xenophobia that can grow into hatred, prejudice and mob violence all too easily. She finds herself facing off against him at a time of change and transition; the old Baron has died peacefully, just a few days before his son, Roland, is to be married. Several of Tiffany’s witch sisters arrive for the occasion including Mistress Weatherwax, her severe but ultimately caring mentor, and the bawdy Nanny Ogg (who most willingly fills the bride-to-be in on some wedding night secrets and advice, wink-wink nudge-nudge). As usual, Pratchett had me in alternating tears of hilarity and tenderness and empathy. And, as always, the book ends with the reader feeling a cathartic cleansing, and the sense that Tiffany Aching is in her place, doing her job the best she knows how, and all is right with the world.
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