If there was ever a love letter to a continent, then The Last Continent is it. Terry Pratchett makes a kudos to Australia and its customs, drawing elements to his story both from oral traditions and cultural customs. The best part of the story is how Rincewind will inhabit all the stories told and become a legend, but I say no more and leave it for you to read. The other thing I enjoyed highly was Pratchett creating a god of evolution who is an atheist. But I’m afraid The Last Continent isn’t a solid story. It’s messy. It doesn’t seem to have a point. It drags on at times and makes odd pirouettes at other places. I think it is one of the weakest Discworld books, but as I write this, I also remember the times I enjoyed it. And I think that is partly because you can feel the love Pratchett has for Australia from the pages. That he has had fun writing in several places, especially about the tall-tales we tell at the campfire.
It’s kind of sad that the book is maybe too hastily put together. It could have been so much more, but at least the right elements of a Discworld novel is there, and you can still enjoy reading it.