Havelock Vetinari - Appearance, Habits and Miscellaneous

Appearance, Habits and Miscellaneous

Currently in his late forties/early fifties (Sam Vimes noted in Feet of Clay that the Patrician was about the same age as him, and it is shown in Night Watch that he was a student Assassin at the time of the main events of the book, when Vimes was 16), Lord Vetinari is tall, thin and dresses all in dusty black, including a black skullcap. His appearance has been likened to that of a predatory flamingo, if one existed.

His family coat of arms is a plain, simple sable shield, and therefore does not show up against the black coach in which Vetinari travels—-black on black, (upon which Moist von Lipwig in Going Postal comments that "you had to admit that the bastard had style.") His family motto is Si non confectus, non reficiat (If it ain't broke, don't fix it).

Lord Vetinari lives and works in the Patrician's Palace, which used to be the Royal Winter Palace. He sits on a plain wooden chair at the feet of the Golden Throne of Ankh, (much like the Steward of Gondor in The Lord of the Rings). The Throne remains untouched despite being allegedly made of gold, but Vetinari reveals to Captain Carrot that it is actually merely gold foil over now-rotten-through wood.

He accepts interviews in the Oblong Office, (a reference to the White House's Oval Office). Notably he does not request, or even demand the presence of any of his citizens, but merely has them informed that they "have an appointment with him," and they are promptly escorted to said appointment. When Vetinari considers the meeting ended, he usually dismisses his visitors with the phrase "don't let me detain you." The inherent implication being that he just might if they let him.

He holds meetings in the Rats Chamber, so named because of its fresco of dancing rats on the ceiling, (a play on the Star Chamber and the German Ratskammer, which literally means 'council chamber'). Occupants report that spending any time in the room makes one want to leave and go have a good long bath.

His bedroom is spartan; containing little more than a narrow bed and a few battered cupboards. He apparently requires so little sleep and gets up so early that going to bed is merely an excuse to change his clothes ("He has a bedroom. He presumably sleeps" The New Discworld Companion). He is known to always be in his office at very late, (or perhaps early,) hours, apparently just coinciding with when someone wishes to see him and he wishes to see them. He is not often described as sleeping, (exceptions are in Jingo and The Truth), although he has been unconscious several times. He has one known relative (Lady Roberta "Bobbi" Meserole, his aunt) who may come from Genua and now lives in Pseudopolis. She appears to share his forte for subtle politics. His father apparently died while Havelock was still young, and, according to his aunt, took things much less seriously than his son does.

Vetinari has no lust for power. The sole reason for his ruling the city is that he is fiercely loyal to it, although it is also at times been implied that he does it because it amuses him to do so, in the sense that he enjoys outwitting all the people who try to oppose him. He also has no exploitable vices, barring a strange fondness for candied jellyfish – mentioned in the early books but believed by some to be referring to a previous Patrician (see Bibliography). Compared to the previous Patricians of the city, Vetinari appears to be remarkably normal. The only exception to this is his pathological hatred of street mime artists, but this is largely accepted as an acceptable quirk.

It was established in Guards!, Guards! that Vetinari can communicate with the palace rats. These rats have sentience because of the magic from the Unseen University. The rats are now loyal to him because he provided them military advice that, after a conflict with the snakes and scorpions that also inhabited the dungeons, allowed them to become dominant vermin of the palace. As seen in the book, during his imprisonment, the rats have trouble with specific wording and Vetinari ends up with a book on lacemaking in place of the one he desires. He takes the opportunity to learn lace construction anyway, on the principle that one never knows when such a thing may be useful.

Vetinari also enjoys reading written music rather than listening to it performed, because the idea of it being performed by people, with all the sweat and saliva involved, strikes him as distasteful.

Though he excels at the Discworld's equivalent of sudoku, Jikan no Muda (無駄の時間; Literally, "Waste of Time" in Japanese), and can solve them after glancing at any grid for a few seconds, he finds them unsatisfying, as numbers are too easy to outwit. He enjoys crosswords far more, as one needs to comprehend how another person's mind works when actively trying to mislead. He has found great pleasure in the work of 'The Blind Letter Office' at the Post Office, helping to decipher the nigh-illegible gibberish that some of Ankh-Morpork's less educated citizenry address their letters with - for example working out casually that 'Duzbuns Hopsit pfarmarrsc' equals 'K. Whistler, Baker, 3 Pigsty Hill' (Does Buns Opposite the Pharmacy). The men employed for this job are successful in 'translating' five addresses out of every six and view Vetinari's casual skill at it with something approaching awe. He is also very good at Thud, also known in the books by its Dwarvish name Hnaflbaflsniflwhifltafl, and plays it to find his own weaknesses unlike other people (Reacher Gilt, "Going Postal") who plays Thud to find the opponent's weaknesses.

Lord Vetinari also has a strange clock in his waiting-room. While it does keep completely accurate time overall, it sometimes ticks and tocks out of sync (example: "tick, tock... ticktocktick, tock...") and occasionally misses a tick or tock altogether, which has the net effect of turning one's brain "into a sort of porridge". (Feet of Clay, Going Postal). In Feet of Clay Vimes observes that it must have cost him quite a lot of money.

It has been suggested that Vetinari may not be entirely human, though this is primarily because of his methods and personality, as opposed to any sort of physical proof (although in The Fifth Elephant, Lady Margolotta was surprised at his lack of aging). Vetinari admits to being "drunk as a skunk" after a banquet at Unseen University, but continues to be startlingly lucid and eloquent, although Drumknott describes him as seeming "unusually talkative". The only discernible manifestation of his drunkenness: it takes him 50 seconds longer to solve the Ankh-Morpork Times' daily crossword (Unseen Academicals).