Paperback, 175 pages
English language
Published Nov. 7, 2017 by GOLLANCZ.
Only five individuals stand between the killer robots of Krikkit and their goal of the total annihilation of the universe: Arthur Dent, homeless Englishman, currently marooned in the deep past; Ford Prefect, temporarily insane to see if he likes it, also marooned; Slartibartfast, once of Magrathea; Zaphod Beeblebrox, ex-confidence trickster and part- time galactic president; and Trillian, mathematician and astrophysicist, last seen fleeing the Ruler of the Universe. In other words: we're doomed. --back cover
I do have a strong sense of the series starting to lose its way with this novel. It certainly has its moments, but really doesn't come close to the standard set by the first two books.
I do have a strong sense of the series starting to lose its way with this novel. It certainly has its moments, but really doesn't come close to the standard set by the first two books.
There are four quotes in this book that makes it one of my absolute favorites.
Arthur could almost imagine Paul McCartney sitting with his feet up by the fire one evening, humming it to Linda and wondering what to buy with the proceeds, and thinking, probably, Essex.
It came lilting back to them through the soft night air, and was a sweet romantic ballad that would have netted McCartney Kent and Sussex and enabled him to put in a fair offer for Hampshire
The middle eight bridge, which would have had McCartney firmly consolidated in Winchester and gazing intently over the Test Valley to the rich pickings of the New Forest beyond, had some curious lyrics.
Her laughter seemed to discharge something in the atmosphere. From somewhere at the back of the crowd a single voice started to sing a tune that would have enabled Paul McCartney, had he written …
There are four quotes in this book that makes it one of my absolute favorites.
Arthur could almost imagine Paul McCartney sitting with his feet up by the fire one evening, humming it to Linda and wondering what to buy with the proceeds, and thinking, probably, Essex.
It came lilting back to them through the soft night air, and was a sweet romantic ballad that would have netted McCartney Kent and Sussex and enabled him to put in a fair offer for Hampshire
The middle eight bridge, which would have had McCartney firmly consolidated in Winchester and gazing intently over the Test Valley to the rich pickings of the New Forest beyond, had some curious lyrics.
Her laughter seemed to discharge something in the atmosphere. From somewhere at the back of the crowd a single voice started to sing a tune that would have enabled Paul McCartney, had he written it, to buy the world.
