"Once a moderately jolly wizard camped by a dried-up waterhole under the shade of a tree that he was completely unable to identify. And he swore as he hacked and hacked at a can of beer, saying, 'What kind of idiots put beer in tins?'" (p. 248)

This is a book about Australia, about academics and in a smaller degree about religion. It's kind of a different Pratchett and Discworld book because he sort of takes Australia and puts it on the Disc and normally, he doesn't take a continent and move it like that, but just an idea. Australia is never the same after Rincewind first - and later on, the other wizards - has been let loose across it! Rincewind is as always very incapable of doing anything - except fleeing at any sight of trouble - but somehow he manages to survive: "For weeks a man whose ability to find water was limited to checking if his feer were wet had survived in this oven-ready country by falling into waterholes." (p. 41) I'm not quite sure how he manages - but it involves a god and a kangaroo...
I was able to really appreciate the jokes about academics - it felt strongly like what I experienced when studying philosophy at the university. The wizards from the Unseen University get stranded on a deserted island - and are completely lost. They can't build a boat to get away because there's no library where they can find a how-to book - kind of when my professors had to be shown how to fold out a moving box - and those even have an illustrated guide printed on them!
"What sort of people would we be if we didn't go into the Library? Students." (p. 31)
And they confirm all my boyfriend's prejudices about people attending/teaching at/having graduated from universities - not sure why he has those prejudices, I'm very practical!
Of course, when the wizards are involved, so are the librarian - who's sick for most of the book and changes shape whenever he sneezes ...
This is also a book about time - about time lines and how you can change the future, if you travel in the past - as always delicately put by Pratchett:
"/.../ history already depends on your treading on any ants that you happen to step on. Any ants you tread on, you've already trodden on, so if you do it again it'll be for the first time, because you're doing it now because you did it then. Which is also now." (p. 146)
It's also a book about religion. The wizards finally find another living being on the deserted island - a god. A rather special god, in fact, since he's an atheist who finds religion offensive and don't believe in himself because that's irrational. He believes in the things he does - but there's lots of things he doesn't know and having the wizards explain about evolution and reproduction through sex is just not a good idea!
As always, Pratchett is able to use language so perfectly - take a word and twists it's meaning:
"Rincewind had always been happy to think of himself as a racist. The One Hundred Mettes, the Mile, the Marathon - he'd run Them All. Later, when he'd learned with some surprise what the word actually meant, he'd been equally certain he wasn't one." (p. 53)
This is not the best book I've read by Pratchett. In fact, I wanted to give it three stars instead of four - but because of this amazing scene with this amazing dialogue, I just had to give it four stars:
"'I've always thought sex was really a rather tasteless way of ensuring the continuity of the species,' said the Chair of Indefinite Studies, as they reached the beach. 'I'm sure there could be something better. It's all very ... old-fashioned, to my mind. And far too energetic.'
'Well, I'm generally in agreement, but what would you suggest instead?' said Ridcully.
'Bridge,' said the Chair of Indefinite Stuides firmly.
'Really? Bridge?'
'You mean the game with cards? said the Dean.
'I don't see why not. It can be extremely exciting, very sociable, and requires no special equipment.'
'But you do need four people,' Ridcully pointed out.
'Ah, yes. I had not considered that. Yes, I can see that there could be problems. All right, then. How about ... croquet? You can do that with two. Indeed, I've often enjoyed a quiet knock-about all by myself.'
Ridcully let a little more space come between him and the Chair of Indefinite Studies.
'I fail to see how it could be utilized for the purpose of procreation,' he said carefully. 'Recreation, yes, I'll grant you that. But not procreation. I mean, how could it work?'
'He's the god,,' sniffed the Chair of Indefinite Studies. 'He's supposed to sort out the details, isn't he?'
'But you think women would really decide to spend their life with a man just because he can swing a big mallet?' said the Dean.
'I suppose, when you come to think about it, that's no more ridic-' Ridcully began, and then stopped. 'I think we should leave this subject,' he said.
' I played croquet with him only last week,' hissed the Dean to Ridcully, as the Chair wandered off. 'I shan't be happy now until I've had a good bath!'
'We'll lock up his mallets when we get back, depend upon it,' Ridcully whispered.
'He's got books and books about croquet in his room, did you know that? Some of them have got coloured illustrations!'
'What of?'
'Famous croquet strokes,' said the Dean. 'I think we ought to take his mallet away.'
'Close to what I was thinking, Dean. Close,' said Ridcully. (p. 246-248)