[In the following review of Night Watch, Barsanti compares Pratchett's writing style to that of British humorist G. K. Chesterton.]

It shouldn't come as any real surprise who England's bestselling author is: J. K. Rowling. But unless you're either British or a fairly serious devotee of science fiction, you're probably not all that familiar with Number Two. His name is Terry Pratchett, he has dozens of books in print, and the foundation of his fan base goes just a bit deeper than Rowling's does. (The BBC recently determined, for example, that he was the bestselling English author of the 1990s.) And A. S. Byatt, the author of Possession and one of Pratchett's more ardent fans, has been quoted as saying that Pratchett is more important than either Rowling or Philip Pullman, the UK's other big-time fantasy writer.

Pratchett is a former journalist and public-relations man, and he lives southwest of London, in Wiltshire. He's best known for his Discworld books, a series of twenty-eight tales he began writing in 1983 as a riposte to a whole slew of J. R. R. Tolkien imitators whose work was dominating the sci-fi scene at the time. “In the late '70s and early '80s, there was a huge surge in fantasy writing,” Pratchett explains, “and a lot of it—how shall I put it?—didn't bring that much to the party.”

As its name suggests, Pratchett's Discworld is a flat, plate-shaped planet. Borrowing from Hindu mythology, the author placed it on the backs of four elephants who in turn stand upon the shell of a giant turtle. Most of Discworld's action happens in Ankh-Morpork, a crowded, dangerous city whose public safety is entrusted to the sometimes-brave officers of a police force known as The Watch (a good bunch of guys despite the fact that they're generally more interested in a stiff drink than in making arrests). A few wizards live in Ankh-Morpork as well, but they spend most of their time at Unseen University, bickering over their bureaucracy and occasionally blowing things up.

The Discworld books are well-written and a real pleasure to read, but there is more to them than just that. They are also rife with satiric jabs at everything from journalism to organized religion to Hollywood, and they manage to do just what G. K. Chesterton—the witty, prolific British author of The Everlasting Man and The Man Who Was Thursday, and a man whom Pratchett is fond of quoting—said all good science fiction should do. Good sci-fi takes “what is familiar and everyday,” says Pratchett, paraphrasing Chesterton, “and therefore no longer regarded, and picks it up and turns it around and shows it to us in a different way, so that once again we see it in all its strangeness for the first time.”

Night Watch, Discworld's latest installment, is no exception. Its hero, a commander within The Watch named Sam Vimes, is sent back in time to chase a murderer, and he emerges into a historical Ankh-Morpork populated by a riotous citizenry living under the rule of a ruthless patrician leader. Night Watch is chockfull of weighted political commentary—echoing the French Revolution in the way it illustrates the subtle shifts of power that can bring down a government and raise up a new one—and Vimes must walk a tightrope, defending himself and the men under him while encouraging a righteous revolution.

Considering his sales figures (as well as his dubious distinction of being the most shoplifted author at Waterstone's, England's biggest bookstore chain), it's safe to say that Pratchett's fans are thoroughly addicted to his blend of action and social criticism. It's also safe to say that they have plenty of future Discworld books to look forward to: Pratchett claims that the only thing that could end the series is his own inevitable demise, and he certainly isn't worried about running out of story ideas in the meantime. “It's a whole world,” he says. “That's a lot of room.”