Dodger

By Terry Pratchett
Not  Discworld for a change. Second non-Discworld in the last few years now that I thinks about it,  following,  but quite unlike Nation a few years ago.
I'm not entirely sure why this isn't set in the more familiar milieu though. Nation,  taking themes from Robinson Crusoe and The Coral Island could have be said to take place on a previously unknown island in the middle of an unknown Disc sea,  but it would have added nothing. This is a Dickens pastiche, and the modern Ankh-Morepork is pretty much evolving into a  steampunk version of Victorian London as it is.  But this is the real London,  so let it be.  And if Sir Terry needs a break now and again from his well worn settings to keep things fresh,  then more power to him.
Our protagonist is not quite the slightly older incarnation of Oliver Twist's friend,  but it's close. The suggestion,  seeing as how the great novelist appears as a character is perhaps that this Dodger is the inspiration of the literary  character,  which is a bit meta for a Friday afternoon. We have here a bit of Dickens,  a bit of  Ruritanian romance,  in which an urchin saves an girl from swarthy European ne'er do wells, eventually earning the appreciation of Her Majesty, after plots,  double dealing and chases through the sewers under the streets of London.
There's honestly nothing wrong with the book.  It's a romp,  does what it sets out to do,  no point trying to read loss of drop thought into it because there wasn't any great thought in it.  Or perhaps I'm being more than normally obtuse. But let's take it as gave value. A romp.  A heroe risen from the streets,  from beneath the streets even,  with a heart of gold and no discernable flaws. All rather easy really. Perhaps that's why I felt it kind of lacking.
I applaud Sir Terry's willingness to try something new,  I just didn't really think there was enough depth to it.