Pyramids   by Terry Pratchett

Book about the absurdity of establishing traditions and then being blindly held to them despite the cost and pointlessness of doing so. In this case a nation builds pyramids every time a king dies, and has been doing so for a few thousand years, each one necessarily being bigger and better than its predecessorʼs.

When the current king dies, he lives on as a ghost with no connection to the living world, but can only scream in vain his distaste with the massive pyramid they build for him. Not only is the thing more than the nation can afford, but they are going to incarcerate him inside where his spirit will have to live for eternity.

But, like uranium with radioactivity, pyramidal building blocks contain a quantity of magic, and the latest construction goes over the critical mass and erupts, making the entire kingdom disappear off the map. The kingʼs successor happens to be out of the state at the time, with a maid for an accomplice and an intelligent though non-communicating camel.

The camel magically finds the secret to getting back to the kingdom, and then all the old spirits, liberated from their respective tombs, descend on the new pyramid to destroy it and end the long-standing tradition of building forever bigger ones.

It is all fascinating and inventive, but at the same time doesnʼt really seem to have a real direction. This is mostly due to the protagonist pottering around aimlessly outside his kingdom not knowing how to get back in. Of course it is funny, as with all of Pratchettʼs work, and thoughtful, just a tad aimless.