They’re vibrant characters on their own and doubly vital together. I enjoy seeing Carrot and Angua show up in one of Pratchett’s books. No one could be so simple, no one could be so creatively dumb, without being very intelligent. And she knew the sort of things men said in what might be called the heat of the moment and then forgot.Ĭarrot, though, she realizes, is quite different:īut when Carrot said things, you knew that he felt that everything was now settled until further notice, so if she made any comment he’d be genuinely surprised that she’d forgotten what it was he had said and would probably quote date and time.Īnd yet all the time there was this feeling that the greater part of him was always deep, deep inside, looking out. She’d known other men, although turning into a wolf for part of the month was one of those little flaws that could put any normal man off and, up until Carrot, always had. He seldom said so, he just assumed she knew. She was pretty sure he cared a lot for her. Technically, Angua was sure she knew Carrot better than anyone else. She is a beautiful woman and an on-the-wagon werewolf who is a bit more skeptical of her fellow creatures, perhaps because, regularly, she turns into a fairly wild animal.Īt this moment in their exchange - which occurs in the room of a dead man who was not just a murderer but also a murderee - Angua steps back figuratively into her head to consider her relationship with Carrot: Indeed, he is one of those rare, pure personalities who thinks the best of everyone and expects the best of everyone and, through this purity and trust, is usually able to elicit from everyone their best. He is a 6’6” dwarf (by adoption) who’s the second-in-command of the Ankh-Morpork City Watch and, deeply and fully, the quintessence of honor and truth. Midway through Terry Pratchett’s 1997 novel Jingo, a conversation takes place between Captain Carrot Ironfoundersson and Corporal Delphine Angua von Überwald.

Jingo book