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Making Money: (Discworld Novel 36) [Format Kindle]

Terry Pratchett
4.8 étoiles sur 5  Voir tous les commentaires (4 commentaires client)

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Descriptions du produit


Chapter 1

Waiting in darkness – A bargain sealed – The hanging man – Golem with a blue dress – Crime and punishment – A chance to make real money – The chain of gold-ish – No unkindness to bears – Mr Bent keeps time

THEY LAY IN THE DARK, guarding. There was no way of measuring the passage of time, nor any inclination to measure it. There was a time when they had not been here, and there would be a time, presumably, when they would, once more, not be here. They would be somewhere else. This time in between was immaterial.

But some had shattered and some, the younger ones, had gone silent.

The weight was increasing.

Something must be done.

One of them raised his mind in song.

It was a hard bargain, but hard on whom? That was the question. And Mr Blister the lawyer wasn’t getting an answer. He would have liked an answer. When parties are interested in unprepossessing land, it might pay for smaller parties to buy up any neighbouring plots, just in case the party of the first part had heard something, possibly at a party.

But it was hard to see what there was to know.

He gave the woman on the other side of his desk a suitably concerned smile.

‘You understand,Miss Dearheart, that this area is subject to dwarf mining law? That means all metals and metal ore are owned by the Low King of the dwarfs. You will have to pay him a considerable royalty on any that you remove. Not that there will be any, I’m bound to say. It is said to be sand and silt all the way down, and apparently it is a very long way down.’

He waited for any kind of reaction from the woman opposite, but she just stared at him. Blue smoke from her cigarette spiralled towards the office ceiling.

‘Then there is the matter of antiquities,’ said the lawyer, watching as much of her expression as could be seen through the haze. ‘The Low King has decreed that all jewellery, armour, ancient items classified as Devices, weaponry, pots, scrolls or bones extracted by you from the land in question will also be subject to a tax or confiscation.’

Miss Dearheart paused as if to compare the litany against an internal list, stubbed out her cigarette and said: ‘Is there any reason to believe that there are any of these things there?’

‘None whatsoever,’ said the lawyer, with a wry smile. ‘Everyone knows that we are dealing with a barren waste, but the King is insuring against “what everyone knows” being wrong. It so often is.’

‘He is asking a lot of money for a very short lease!’

‘Which you are willing to pay. This makes dwarfs nervous, you see. It’s very unusual for a dwarf to part with land, even for a few years. I gather he needs the money because of all this Koom Valley business.’

‘I’m paying the sum demanded!’

‘Quite so, quite so. But I—’

‘Will he honour the contract?’

‘To the letter. That at least is certain. Dwarfs are sticklers in such matters. All you need to do is sign and, regrettably, pay.’

Miss Dearheart reached into her bag and placed a thick sheet of paper on the table. ‘This is a banker’s note for five thousand dollars, drawn on the Royal Bank of Ankh-Morpork.’

The lawyer smiled. ‘A name to trust,’ he said, and added: ‘traditionally, at least. Do sign where I’ve put the crosses, will you?’

He watched carefully as she signed, and she got the impression he was holding his breath.

‘There,’ she said, pushing the contract across the desk.

‘Perhaps you could assuage my curiosity, madam?’ he said. ‘Since the ink is drying on the lease?’

Miss Dearheart glanced around the room, as if the heavy old bookcases concealed a multitude of ears. ‘Can you keep a secret, Mr Blister?’

‘Oh, indeed, madam. Indeed!’

She looked around conspiratorially. ‘Even so, this should be said quietly,’ she hissed.

He nodded hopefully, leaned forward, and for the first time for many years felt a woman’s breath in his ear:

So can I,’ she said.

That was nearly three weeks ago . . .

Some of the things you could learn up a drainpipe at night were surprising. For example, people paid attention to small sounds – the click of a window catch, the clink of a lockpick – more than they did to big sounds, like a brick falling into the street or even (for this was, after all, Ankh-Morpork) a scream.

These were loud sounds which were therefore public sounds, which in turn meant they were everyone’s problem and, therefore, not mine. But small sounds were nearby and suggested such things as stealth betrayed, and so were pressing and personal.

Therefore, he tried not to make little noises.

Below him the coach yard of the Central Post Office buzzed like an overturned hive. They’d got the turntable working really well now. The overnight coaches were arriving and the new Uberwald Flyer was gleaming in the lamplight. Everything was going right, which was, to the night-time climber, why everything was going wrong.

The climber thrust a brick key into soft mortar, shifted his weight, moved his foo—

Damn pigeon! It flew up in panic, his other foot slipped, his fingers lost their grip on the drainpipe, and when the world had stopped churning he was owing the postponement of his meeting with the distant cobbles to his hold on a brick key which was, let’s face it, nothing more than a long flat nail with a t-piece grip.

And you can’t bluff a wall, he thought. If you swing you might Making Money get your hand and foot on the pipe, or the key might come out.

Oh . . . kay . . .

He had more keys and a small hammer. Could he knock one in without losing his grip on the other?

Above him the pigeon joined its colleagues on a higher ledge.

The climber thrust the nail into the mortar with as much force as he dared, pulled the hammer out of his pocket and, as the Flyer departed below with a clattering and jingling, hit the nail one massive blow.

It went in. He dropped the hammer, hoping the sound of its impact would be masked by the general bustle, and grabbed the new hold before the hammer had hit the ground.

Oh . . . kay. And now I am . . . stuck?

The pipe was less than three feet away. Fine. This would work. Move both hands on to the new hold, swing gently, get his left hand around the pipe, and he could drag himself across the gap. Then it would be just—

The pigeon was nervous. For pigeons, it’s the ground state of being. It chose this point to lighten the load.

Oh . . . kay. Correction: two hands were now gripping the suddenly very slippery nail.


And at this point, because nervousness runs through pigeons faster than a streaker through a convent, a gentle patter began.

There are times when ‘It does not get any better than this’ does not spring to mind.

And then a voice from below said: ‘Who’s up there?’

Thank you, hammer. They can’t possibly see me, he thought. People look up from the well-lit yard with their night vision in shreds. But so what? They know I’m here now.

Oh . . . kay.

‘All right, it’s a fair cop, guv,’ he called down.

‘A thief, eh?’ said the voice below.

‘Haven’t touched a thing, guv. Could do with a hand up, guv.’

‘Are you Thieves’ Guild? You’re using their lingo.’

‘Not me, guv. I always use the word guv, guv.’

He wasn’t able to look down very easily now, but sounds below indicated that ostlers and off-duty coachmen were strolling over. That was not going to be helpful. Coachmen met most of their thieves out on lonely roads, where the highwaymen seldom bothered to ask sissy questions like ‘Your money or your life?’ When one was caught, justice and vengeance were happily combined by means of a handy length of lead pipe.

There was a muttering beneath him, and it appeared that a consensus had been reached.

‘Right, Mister Post Office Robber,’ a cheery voice bellowed. ‘Here’s what we’re gonna do, okay? We’re gonna go into the building, right, and lower you a rope. Can’t say fairer’n that, right?’

‘Right, guv.’

It had been the wrong kind of cheery. It had been the cheery of the word ‘pal’ as in ‘You lookin’ at me, pal?’ The Guild of Thieves paid a twenty-dollar bounty fee for a non-accredited thief brought in alive, and there were oh, so many ways of still being alive when you were dragged in and poured out on the floor.

He looked up. The window of the Postmaster General’s apartment was right above him.

Oh . . . kay.

His hands and arms were numb and yet painful at the same time. He heard the rattle of the big freight elevator inside the building, the thud of a hatch being slapped back, the footsteps across the roof, felt the rope hit his arm.

‘Grab it or drop,’ said a voice as he flailed to grasp it. ‘It’s all the same in the long run.’ There was laughter in the dark.

The men heaved hard at the rope. The figu...

From Publishers Weekly

Reprieved confidence trickster Moist von Lipwig, who reorganized the Ankh-Morpork Post Office in 2004's Going Postal, turns his attention to the Royal Mint in this splendid Discworld adventure. It seems that the aristocratic families who run the mint are running it into the ground, and benevolent despot Lord Vetinari thinks Moist can do better. Despite his fondness for money, Moist doesn't want the job, but since he has recently become the guardian of the mint's majority shareholder (an elderly terrier) and snubbing Vetinari's offer would activate an Assassins Guild contract, he reluctantly accepts. Pratchett throws in a mad scientist with a working economic model, disappearing gold reserves and an army of golems, once more using the Disc as an educational and entertaining mirror of human squabbles and flaws (Oct.)
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

Détails sur le produit

  • Format : Format Kindle
  • Taille du fichier : 1222 KB
  • Nombre de pages de l'édition imprimée : 485 pages
  • Editeur : Transworld Digital (19 janvier 2010)
  • Vendu par : Amazon Media EU S.à r.l.
  • Langue : Anglais
  • ASIN: B00351YF0W
  • Synthèse vocale : Activée
  • X-Ray :
  • Word Wise: Activé
  • Composition améliorée: Activé
  • Moyenne des commentaires client : 4.8 étoiles sur 5  Voir tous les commentaires (4 commentaires client)
  • Classement des meilleures ventes d'Amazon: n°43.691 dans la Boutique Kindle (Voir le Top 100 dans la Boutique Kindle)

En savoir plus sur l'auteur

Le plus grand humoriste anglais depuis P.G. Wodehouse est un auteur de fantasy : est-ce l'effet du hasard ? Terry Pratchett est né en 1948 dans le Buckinghamshire ; nous n'en savons pas davantage sur ses origines, ses études ou sa vie amoureuse. Son hobby, prétend-il, c'est la culture des plantes carnivores. Que dire encore de son programme politique ? Il s'engage sur un point crucial : augmentons, dit-il, le nombre des orangs-outans à la surface du globe, et les grands équilibres seront restaurés. Voilà un écrivain qui donnera du fil à retordre à ses biographes !
Sa vocation fut précoce : il publia sa première nouvelle en 1963 et son premier roman en 1971. D'emblée, il s'affirma comme un grand parodiste : La Face obscure du soleil (1976) tourne en dérision L'Univers connu de Larry Niven ; Strata (1981) ridiculise une fois de plus la hard S.-F. en partant de l'idée que la Terre est effectivement plate.
Mais le grand tournant est pris en 1983. Pratchett publia alors le premier roman de la série du Disque-Monde, brillant pastiche héroï-comique de Tolkien et de ses imitateurs.
Traduites dans plus de trente langues, Les Annales du Disque-Monde ont également donné lieu à nombre de produits dérivés ainsi qu'à des adaptations télévisées.

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6 internautes sur 6 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
Format:Relié|Achat vérifié
Bon, si vous n'avez jamais ouvert un Discworld (Disque-Monde en Français), il y a peu de chances que vous commenciez par celui-ci.
Si, comme moi, vous en avez eu marre d'attendre la traduction en français (au demeurant excellente, merci P. Couton), vous vous plongerez avec délice dans les nouvelles aventures de Moist von Lipwig. Malgré le fait que j'ai lu et relu les épisodes précédents, il n'empêche que je ne peux pas être blasé. Ce volume est hilarant en plus de développer une parabole intéressante sur les fondements du système économique. A offrir à votre banquier s'il a un minimum d'humour (improbable mais pas impossible).
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5.0 étoiles sur 5 Satire du monde bancaire 3 juillet 2015
Par Hammer
Format:Poche|Achat vérifié
Très bon roman satirique sur le thème de la banque.
Sur un "malentendu" Moist LIPSWIG est catapulté à la tête de la banque Morphokienne avec pour mission de "faire de l'argent".
Les idées de Moist pour atteindre ce but ne sont cependant pas du goût des actionnaires...
Cette histoire semble "à peine" inspirée de l'actualité.
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5.0 étoiles sur 5 Majing Money 7 janvier 2014
Par Raider
Format:Broché|Achat vérifié
C'est du Pratchett pur jus. Une bonne idée est adaptée, déformée et amplifiée par certains aspects. Tout est perdu? Mais non une bonne idée ne se perd jamais dans le discmonde, et cela donne l'occasion à de multiples échanges intéressants.
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4.0 étoiles sur 5 Making fun of Money and Banking 4 août 2012
Format:Poche|Achat vérifié
An hilarious satire on money and banking very funny and worth reading. One of the best and funniest Terry Pratchett books that I have read.
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Amazon.com: 4.4 étoiles sur 5  254 commentaires
50 internautes sur 56 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
4.0 étoiles sur 5 A Bit Below Pratchett's Usual 5-Star Effort 21 septembre 2007
Par ealovitt - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format:Relié|Achat vérifié
I'm a huge Discworld fan and enjoyed "Making Money," which is a continuation of "Going Postal," but I couldn't quite shake the feeling that Terry Pratchett wrote this latest installment on automatic, or else got a golem to write it for him. All of the right characters are included---some like Death in cameo roles, and others like Lord Vetinari, almost too visible (a little of Ankh-Morpork's Patrician goes a long way). It's got all of the right standing, falling, and knocking-people-down-with-ladders jokes, plus Punes, or plays on words.

But for a Discworld novel, "Making Money" lacks Pratchett's usual shoot-from-the-hip-and-mouth-and-other-body-parts originality. Maybe Moist von Lipwig, former Postmaster General and current trouble-shooter at the Royal Mint, is too slight a character to have the weight of two Discworld novels resting on his shoulders. Maybe his antics at the Mint are too similar to his antics at the Post Office.

Or maybe it's because I can't stand his girlfriend, Adora Belle---Gladys the Golem has a nicer personality. Heck, the villain, Cosmo Lavish has a nicer personality, which is another one of this book's problems. We don't have a villain we can really hate. I spent the last half of the novel worrying about whether Cosmo's thumb would fall off, not whether he would succeed in replacing the Patrician at Ankh-Morpork's grubby helm.

I'll still grab Pratchett's next fantasy off of the shelf as soon as it appears, but the Moist von Lipwig books are definitely not up to his Night Watch-, Witch-, or Death-standard of Discworld novels.
47 internautes sur 54 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Money for nothing and your clacks for free 20 septembre 2007
Par Lonya - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format:Relié|Achat vérifié
It seems, after reading Terry Pratchett's latest Discworld novel "Making Money", that money does make the world go `round, even if that world is flat and balanced on the backs of four elephants standing on the back of a giant turtle.

In "Making Money", Terry Pratchett and his `hero' Moist von Lipwig do for and to the monetary system exactly what they did for and to the post office in "Going Postal". The result is the same - - - - a Buster Keaton-like romp through the strange and wonderful world of Discworld.

It is impossible to detail the plot of this book without giving away spoilers so I think it best just to say that Lord Vetinari has determined that Ankh-Morpork's monetary system is in dire straits and in need of improvement. Vetinari picks, in his inimitable way, Moist von Lipwig to lead the way. In essence, Moist is set-up by Vetinari to become Ankh-Morpork's Alan Greenspan. Unlike Greenspan, however, Moist must deal with a cast of characters that have no idea as to what Moist is up to or trying to achieve. (Well, maybe that isn't so unlike Greenspan!).

"Making Money" feature a cast of old but mostly new characters. As to established characters, Vetinari is featured and his is as delightfully Machiavellian as ever. There are cameo appearances by DEATH, the Watch, and CMOT Dibbler. However, new or newer characters play the largest roles. Moist's second appearance is terrific. Pratchett does a very nice job turning him into what I hope is a regular role. Moist's girlfriend the chain-smoking Adore Belle Dearheart makes her presence felt. Mr. Bent, the oh-so serious bank manager plays straight man to Moist's light-hearted con-man character. Bent is tied to the old ways - where money must be based on gold and nothing but gold. There is something very William Jennings Bryan-like about Bent and his straight-laced approach is the perfect foil for Moist's extraordinarily flexible approach to monetary issues. Moist's antagonists are the Lavish family, Cosmo Lavish and his rather large sister Pucci (of whom Pratchett says in a great line, "she had no idea how to handle people and she tried to make self-esteem do the work of self-respect, but the girl could flounce better than a fat turkey on a trampoline".) They make good foils for Moist and Vetinari.

As always the plot has many twists and turns and one-liners fly almost as fast as the slings and arrows of the Assassins' Guild. Pratchett has a great way with humor and manages to combine that humor with a good deal of insight into how `things' work in the real world. His look at the monetary system in "Making Money" can now stand with Pratchett's look at rock music Soul Music, religion Small Gods, the post office Going Postal, and movies Moving Pictures as some very funny looks at our world through the prism of Discworld.

"Making Money" was a fun book for me to read. It was typical Pratchett (high praise) and I think most Pratchett fans will enjoy it. I certainly did. L. Fleisig
28 internautes sur 34 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
3.0 étoiles sur 5 Making Light of the Dismal Science 27 septembre 2007
Par James D. DeWitt - Publié sur Amazon.com
The Post Office is an easy target for a gifted satirist like Pratchett; macroeconomics are much harder. Pratchett manages to bring it all off, but overall "Making Money" ranks in the middle third of Pratchett's writing.

Moist Von Lipwig, confidence man, trickster and Ankh Morpork's Postmaster, is bored. And when he is bored, he will take terrible chances. In many ways, it's how he feels alive. The tyrant of Ankh Morpork, the Patrician, Lord Vetinari,recognizes all this and manipulates people and circumstances so the Moist is made the head of the city's largest bank, with a goal of monetary reform. Well, not the actual chairman; the actual head of the bank is a small dog with a taste for toffee.

Moist must cope with the old family shareholders - the completely dysfunctional Lavish clan - as well as entrenched staff, his checkered past coming back to haunt him and missing gold bullion. Moist copes better than Pratchett does. As a novel, "Making Money" is more episodic than was "Going Postal," and the conclusion is weaker. "Money" has its moments, and you will laugh out loud more than once. But as a story, it's just not as strong as, say, Pratchett's last half dozen. In particular, Pratchett doesn't pull all of the plot threads together with his usual skill.

And it must be unbelievably difficult to make economics amusing. Moist's instructions from Lord Vetinari are to get the suspicious citizens of Ankh Morpork to accept paper currency, to free the City from the gold standard. On one level, it is nearly impossible to make it funny; on another, it is nearly impossible to satirize because its satirizes itself too effectively. Pratchett gets a nod just for making the attempt. The "dismal science," to use Carlyle's phrase, could use some humor.

But even a below-average Pratchett novel is a treat, and "Money" is a delight. It's just not outstanding.
6 internautes sur 6 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
3.0 étoiles sur 5 An OK Discworld Book 27 février 2008
Par illiandantic - Publié sur Amazon.com
By my count, which is slightly different from Amazon's, this is the 31st book in Pratchett's Discworld series. With its publication, Going Postal: A Novel of Discworld graduates from a stand-alone book to the first of the "Moist Lipwig" subseries (this book being the second in that subseries). Unfortunately, that graduation does not bear presents. Whereas, "Going Postal" was pretty good, "Making Money" is merely OK. Yes, the parodies are funny. But, unfortunately, the main character, Moist Lipwig, isn't really the driving force behind the plot's progression: he seems to be just along for the ride. The first part of the book is pretty good. Moist is front-and-center and seems to be moving things along. But, shortly after he moves to the bank, he just turns stupid (especially considering what he did for a living prior to becoming the Postmaster General) and the book just drifts. I actually put the book down for a couple of days because I was so upset with this. Finally, near the end, he seems to become himself again. But, the denouement essentially turns into an "A Miracle Occurs" moment. I don't know what happened to Pratchett concerning this book. But, really, I don't see the point in it. He really doesn't seem to have put his usual effort into the plot, the development, or the characters.

If you want to pick the book up from the library, go ahead an do so. But, don't expect prime Pratchett material. The best I can rate it is an OK 3 stars out of 5.
4 internautes sur 4 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
3.0 étoiles sur 5 Pratchett at his best - and worst 6 novembre 2007
Par Steven Savage - Publié sur Amazon.com
Let's get it out of the way - this is not the best Pratchett book.

It its well-written and funny, with the return of many great characters, and a few new somewhat interesting ones. It's snappily paced. It's witty.

It also has a plot that isn't very fulfilling, some strange and optional loose ends, and a very annoying deus ex machina ending. It feels like it's made of spare parts, no offense to the Igors.

Essentially, Moist Von Lipwig, everyone's favorite postmortem postmaster, is bored. The Patrician, of course knows this, and gives Moist a chance to do something else - running the Bank and Mint of Ankh-Morpork. After all, Moist was used to stealing from banks, he just has to reverse his thinking.

However, interested or not, events conspire to put Moist in charge, thanks to a series of events, a clever lady, and a dog. Moist does love a challenge, and he rises to the occasion in some well-written and interesting looks at just what finance and money is.

But despite the best efforts, there's not much plot here, there's not much going on. There's sort of an antagonist, but not much of one. There's some interesting characters introduced that aren't realized quite as fully as they could be. It's really a plot beneath anyone of Pratchett's caliber - it is his talent that keeps it from being a total mess to one that's not fulfilling.

My take is the book is meant to bridge onward to the next novels, as I feel Pratchett is building up towards some big changes in his world. But it's a rickety bridge, even if the company is pleasant. I'd give it 2 stars, but some of the writing and characterization, plus some twists that set things up for the future, are interesting.
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