There’s many things you can do when press-ganged into service by rogue germs as a snot factory, but one of the most sensible is to re-read an old and beloved favourite. It was with these thoughts in mind I picked up Carpe Jugulum and found myself doing far more thinking that I’d originally intended.
This is because Carpe Jugulum is a book about choices, power and wrong.
Its about a lot of other things too, not least of which is the actual story. But right at the heart of it, pumping through every vein, is that trinity. I'll be honest now. This is half-review, half half-baked mini-essay about the way Pratchett deals with these themes. I'll do the mostly review bit first but make no mistake - the use of theme here is as tight and deep as any of the works they made me study in school, and its about ten times more entertaining to boot.
Anyways. The story itself starts with a number of births in the mountain 'kingdom' of Lancre, a small and old-fashioned place populated by stolid rural folk and witches. It also has King Verence and Magrat, the ex-jester and ex-witch convinced by the need for modernity, which in this case manifests itself in inviting the vampiric de Magpyr family to their daughter's naming. Which worries the witches Agnes Nitt and Nanny Ogg no end, when they're not busy worrying about the Omnian priest Mightily Oats and the whereabouts of Granny Weatherwax.
Granny Weatherwax herself is busy at another far more humble birth and fretting about whether her time is done. After all, if Magrat's a mother, what does that mean for the traditional ordering of Maiden, Mother and the Other One? Meanwhile in the forests there's a third birth as Hodgesaargh the falconer tries his hand at catching an allegory.
Pratchett takes his time in introducing and establishing these different aspects of the story - not slow, per se, just not fast either - before they start to collide together. From there the plot moves briskly despite - or maybe because of - the number of multiple strands involved. We are constantly cutting from conflict to conflict the moment one has reached a natural pause and while there's none of the mystery or twists that typify so many of the Discworld books, the result is a more action packed narrative, insofar as one considers arguing as action.
Personally I very much do, particularly with characters like these. One of Pratchett's greatest enduring qualities as a writer was the power of observation, particularly when it came to noting what words and actions could be used to suggest the most about a character. They're archetypes and individuals at the same time; Pratchett's characters are my favourite in the whole genre. Its hugely entertaining watching them snarl their anger out at each other, particularly given Pratchett's gifts as a humourist. I would add though that this book is more drama than comedy; a clash between the flawed proponents of two differing philosophies, filled with loud arguments, subtle magic and lots and lots of horror movie tropes. The laughs are just gravy here.
(Mild spoilers imminent, although I'm trying to pussyfoot my way around).
If Pratchett's characters are my favourite in the whole genre, then Granny Weatherwax is possibly my favourite of Pratchett's. People cry out for female antiheroes; well, here one is. Maybe she is a bit too heroic for some, but the majority of her motivations and actions are very much of the wicked witch. Just she's one who won't let herself be bad. I love that contradiction, not to mention the way she gets so many good lines. And this is her finest hour. Never before is the difference between the tired doubting woman and the implacable force the rest of the world sees so examined. Never before is her magic quite so damned impressive. And never before does she get Mightily Oats as a sidekick.
He's not quite as fun as Nanny Ogg as company for Granny goes, but he is a better study in opposites. The young Oats finds himself unable to choose between anything and believes judging is best left to Om; Granny has spent her entire life choosing for others and knows that judging is human. What's more, where Nanny tends to go along with Granny's desires until she feels the need to ignore them, Mightily argues with her every step of the way. He constantly goes along with her though; he needs to do the right thing and he believes that Granny needs his aid, even if she will never, ever admit it out loud.
Which is in itself a manifestation of Granny's power. She knows her man here and what buttons to press. As long as she is weak, the priest feels compelled to help her. There's nothing unfeigned about Granny's weakness here, but she does understand how to turn it into power here. And Oats begins to understand how he can get Granny to accept his help by in turn presenting himself as the weak one. There is no power if one person is not weaker than the other, but power is not absolute and seeming weakness can in fact be the strength of commanding obligation, something also explored in Agnes' relationship with Vlad de Magpyr.
The de Magpyrs, of course, do not seem to understand such things. For them power comes through dominance, not limitation, as illustrated by their rejection of the old Count's sporting attitude to being hunted by angry mobs. And Count de Magpyr - the old Count's nephew, for those finding it unclear - craves power. He dresses it up in terms of progress and indeed he can show progress in terms of less random violence and civic work in his own homeland, but he is clearly no philanthropist. He seeks power by immunizing himself to a vampire's traditional weaknesses, and forces his children to do the same. Indeed, Count de Magpyr's attitude to choice can be perfectly seen in how little he allows for his children; as little as possible.
Which both conflicts and coincides with the witches' views of things. You only need to listen to Nanny Ogg commanding her numerous clan to show up for 'spontaneous' mob duty to see just how comfortable they can be with choosing for others. Yet we know from Granny's thoughts just how uncomfortable they can be too, and its clear that Nanny doesn't particularly enjoy having to take up Granny's leadership role either. Perhaps it is fair to say that witches believe in choosing for others when needed and not when not.
It seems a wise arrangement, but how do you trust someone to judge when that's needed without being tainted by self interest? As Magrat notes, some of Nanny's actions are definitely in her own interest. So much depends on the person chosen - or who chooses - to undertake that role. Granny's admonition "Don't trust the cannibal just because he's using a knife and fork" seems very stark here. For the system to work, humanity has to avoid picking its own monsters. Its very easy to see why the Omnian Church, tainted by its excesses of conviction back in Small Gods, finds it safer to argue among itself.
This probably isn't Pratchett's own favoured idea though. He presents a number of different viewpoints here but its hard to escape the idea he agrees most here with Granny Weatherwax, particularly when she declaims that "Sin is when you treat other people as things". The image of people and communities as dehumanised commodities is one he uses in a number of his books and never without total condemnation. There's an echo of this in Vlad's pursuit of Agnes - he is attracted to her not as a person, but as a thing he cannot understand; Agnes rejects him when she fully understands just how much the de Magpyrs treat other people as things.
I have to admit to a certain limited sympathy with the Count de Magpyr. Don't get me wrong - he's an arrogant elitist shit to put it kindly. But he's hardly alone there. That the ways of the old Count are romanticised while we hiss at the new Count because its by arrangement seems unfair. Most things that make civilisation are by arrangement and, while civilisation has its share of evil things, it beats the alternative. Of course, civilisation - usually - asks you first. But the new Count did. And the old Count doesn't. As already noted, the ways of the vampires and the way of the witches aren't that dissimilar either.
They are different of course. That much is made clear in Granny's speech on addiction. Witches will wield power because they have to. Vampires do it because they're addicted to it. Yet power corrupts and at some point, power can and will catch up to you (as Granny's own thoughts in numerous of the books makes clear). How much of a difference does their starting points make when the journeys lead them on similar paths? In this book, a lot. In general, maybe not so much. Incidentally, this book is quite striking in terms of addiction in its own right, or at least according to a recovering addict I know. I wish I had time and knowledge to speak of this, but this post is getting ridiculous is, so back to the Count.
He is also the invader and aggressor here, which counts heavily against him in this instance or not in a comparison of systems. Or does it? Does his system, his lack of regard for the individual, make him more likely to be an aggressor? Possible. Besides, the Nac Mac Feegle are also invaders, and their presence is calmly accepted. Why? Part of that - the majority maybe - is that the Nac Mac Feegle can help with the Vampires. But to a certain extent, it also seems to be that Nanny Ogg likes them and dislikes Vampires. Possibly because the Nac Mac Feegle don't expect anything from you while Vampires demand your obedience. Which isn't a completely unreasonable reason for basing your likes on but not maybe not wholly reasonable either.
If these questions weren't here, the book wouldn't be nearly as interesting. If choices were never questioned, if they always satisfied everyone, they wouldn't be choices at all. Exploring the idea that Pratchett's own biases affect the choices made and the presentation of them doesn't invalidate what Pratchett is saying in general. But it does show what may be considered the weakness in laying the stress of moral choice on the individual's judgement. What happens when a harmful person goes about their business with the sure belief only their choice matters?
We live in a world where right now a lot of people seem to believe that only their moral choice matters and that is licence enough to do great violence, both metaphorical and literal. Respect for external moral codes - such as the law, or human decency, or the debates of the Church of Om - seem very low. I think of Grant Morrison's The Invisibles and it stress on the idea that we are all human beings and that violence stains all equally, and I think that maybe we need more of this spirit than Pratchett's judging right now. Certainly, I think we need more of the spirit shown by the following exchange:
Carpe Jugulum ends with a relief of sentence for the people of Lancre and Escrow all thanks to people waking up and judging. And at the end, for all her doubts and earlier words about fire and belief, Granny ends up choosing with mercy. And that's what I reckon we should do - choose to judge people as people, and judge them with mercy without trusting the cannibal.
Also, if in doubt, read a good book. On the very off-chance anyone who hasn't read this before had read all the way to the end - this is one of the best.
Also, if in doubt, read a good book. On the very off-chance anyone who hasn't read this before had read all the way to the end - this is one of the best.
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