My father started reading Terry Pratchett books aloud to me when I was about seven. He started me off with the Tiffany Aching novels, which are at least generally aimed towards children, and the Wee Free Men (tiny blue Scotts who were kicked out of fairyland for excessing drinking) will always have a place in my heart. As I got a little older, my favorite became Mort, the one about Death’s apprentice. With Moist Von Lipwig taking a well-deserved second place, Death remains my all-time favorite Discworld character. Unable to convince any of my college roommates to take my book recommendations, I once got drunk and read the entirety of Hogfather aloud to my cat, who was at least mildly entertained.
But in my twenty or so years as a Terry Pratchett fan, I had never gotten around to reading Carpe Jugulum, despite the book’s name being one of my father’s favorite morning jokes. “Up and at ’em,” he said almost every morning until I moved out. “Carpe Diem…and carpe Jugulum if you have to.”
As the name suggests, Carpe Jugulum features vampires. Count Magpyr and his family from Überwalt are invited to the naming of Magrat and King Verence’s daughter, Princess Esmerelda Margaret Note Spelling of Lancre. After hypnotizing nearly everyone into believing that being overrun with vampires is a grand idea, Anges, a young witch with a cranky alter ego, Mightily Oats, a priest who is beginning to think that his religion is a little silly, and the rest of the Wheatherwax coven team up to take down the bloodsuckers.
It’s a funny book, with lots of Sir Terry’s classic witticisms and one-liners, but it definitely wasn’t my favorite. I enjoyed the vampires’ ridiculousness, Granny’s thoughts on religion, and the bumbling priest, but the persistent and unnecessary fat jokes just put me off. My main issue with this book is the portrayal of Agnes Nitt. She has the potential to be an interesting and unique character, replacing Magrat Garlick as the “Maiden” archetype in the Lancre Coven. However, Pratchett’s reliance on fat jokes holds her back as a character. Her fatness is written to be synonymous with her low self-esteem, juxtaposed against her skinny alter ego. It’s a common lazy way of showing the reader why it should (In Pratchett’s opinion) be funny for a handsome vampire to be interested in her, a fat girl. Representation of all body types in leading roles in media should be cause to celebrate, but just because Pratchett wrote good fat characters doesn’t excuse the consistent fatphobia in his writing. It’s lazy, generally shitty, and alienates readers who would otherwise be able to enjoy everything else that Discworld has to offer.
As I’ve come hurtling into my mid-twenties, I’ve come to understand that part of being an adult is realizing that nothing is perfect. And upon coming to that realization, we all have a couple of choices. We can ignore it entirely and run the risk of making it worse. We can defend the things we love despite their flaws and become the problem. Or we can acknowledge and learn from the mistakes made by our favorite artists. Pratchett’s books have been some of my greatest writing inspirations throughout my life, and that isn’t going to change despite their flaws. But to learn from his work, I must acknowledge the parts that I hope to imitate and the parts I need to avoid. Rereading comfort media with a critical eye may be uncomfortable, but it’s the only path toward growth.
Tillie's Void 
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