I decided to read a book by the late Terry Pratchett last week, and it featured one of Pratchett's most unique characters: Sybil Ramkin.
This is a spoiler, but the story is about the first encounter between Sam Vines, the head policeman with a bad attitude, and Lady Sybil Ramkin, a sort of local aristocrat cat lady, except that her passion was dragons. She had scores of what were described as swamp dragons in her dragon kennels, and was a local authority on the critters.
There's a lot more to the story than that, but we hardly ever read more detail about Lady Sybil than in this book (except for one other story, Snuff, where we hear a lot about Lady Sybil as well). There are leading female characters of many kinds that I have seen: the ultra-girly heroine who clings to her man or her woman, the feisty-but-feminine woman who is always ready with a cutting remark or a piercing glare; the tough woman who never gives up and is a match for most bullies; the elegant, sarcastic woman who is entirely above brawling with anyone; the motherly (or older-sisterly) woman who fiercely defends her brood and all underdogs; and the angry heroine with her back to the wall, who fights back like a cornered rat. But Sybil Ramkin is a little different from any one of these.
Sybil is a distillation of all the delightfully ultra-healthy female aristocrats to be found in British literature; the Tally-ho types simply radiating enthusiasm and fabulous complexions, but are still inexplicably unmarried well past the age at which one expects marriage to take place. They're not tomboys, exactly, but there's a little of that. They're more likely to be indignant or occasionally censorious than bitter, or sarcastic, though Lady Sybil has been occasionally known to resort to sarcasm when taken off her guard. She is Fiercely protective of Sam Vimes, until they're married, and they're blessed with a baby, when Sam is expected to take second place to the precious little brat. Pratchett describes her as big, and in this book one gets the impression that she is bigger than is good for her. In future stories, he moderates this description and conjures up an image of an ample sort of girl, but not one for whose health we feel anxious. There is one odd feature of our fabulous heroine, namely that since her hobby is the breeding of swamp dragons, most of her hair has been flamed off, and she has to resort to wearing wigs. I personally don't have a problem with this, but it conveys an impression of someone who is just a little more out of kilter than I'm willing to support in a heroine. I imagine a hurriedly put on wig, and my mind rejects it. If you're going to wear a wig, it has to be fastened down with the utmost care, and I don't see Sybil taking the time for it. Finally, he describes her as having a big, fruity voice. Booming is the word he uses. Ok, for a piece of humorous fiction booming could be excused, but for a convincing heroine I think we need someone who may look like Liv Tyler, but has a voice more like Dame Maggie Smith, but louder.
It is interesting how Pratchett manages to support the fact that his character is an aristocrat. If you think about it, the biggest tool in the aristocracy toolchest of an author is the aristocratic family. Here, Sybil is an orphan, and her relatives (if any) appear to live far away, in Quirm, or Klatch, or wherever. So Sybil has to be aristocratic all by herelf, supported only by old family retainers, and various ancient heirlooms scattered about her large castle. Nevertheless, Pratchett is able to create almost the most aristocratic aristocrat in the entire Discworld Saga in Lady Sybil Ramkin.
Lady Sybil and Captain Vimes marry, of course, and they're blissfully happy; Pratchett goes to some lengths to portray this marriage as blessed. And, to my mind, this unlikely couple is one of his most fortunate inventions.
Kay
