Post-catastrophic dystopias were all the rage in the 1980s. After all, the end of the century was just around the corner, and millennialism was getting into a gentle simmer — it is now, it seems, in a running boil. It was a second “golden age” for science fiction and dystopian visions of the future: the time of [b:The Handmaid's Tale|38447|The Handmaid's Tale (The Handmaid's Tale, #1)|Margaret Atwood|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1578028274l/38447._SY75_.jpg|1119185] and [b:Neuromancer|888628|Neuromancer (Sprawl, #1)|William Gibson|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1281419771l/888628._SY75_.jpg|909457] and Blade Runner and Terminator and V (the miniseries with the reptilian aliens) and many others. V for Vendetta, published around 1988, fits right in there.

The story is set in a fiendishly Orwellian version of Britain, turned into totalitarian Oceania after Europe has been wiped out by nuclear war. The difference with [b:1984|40961427|1984|George Orwell|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1532714506l/40961427._SX50_.jpg|153313] is that the protagonist is not an isolated and impotent victim. This time, he is a mysterious and androgynous ninja-like hero who speaks in Shakespeare quotes, wrapped in a Guy Fawkes costume, wearing an ever-grinning and creepy doll mask. This faceless superhero saves a young woman from rape in the opening scene. He then takes her in his underground lair, a sort of hidden museum and library, where he keeps copies of [a:Cervantes|4037220|Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1276109217p2/4037220.jpg], [a:Dante|5031312|Dante Alighieri|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1310943198p2/5031312.jpg], [a:Goethe|285217|Johann Wolfgang von Goethe|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1532614109p2/285217.jpg], [a:Homer|903|Homer|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1390672749p2/903.jpg], [a:Dickens|239579|Charles Dickens|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1387078070p2/239579.jpg], [a:Swift|1831|Jonathan Swift|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1183238507p2/1831.jpg], [a:Shelley|11139|Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1588859766p2/11139.jpg], [a:Pynchon|235|Thomas Pynchon|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1465361157p2/235.jpg]… the cultural legacy that has been banned by a Labour Party turned into neo-fascism and racism. However, what starts as a sort of Jean Valjean / Cosette relationship will take a different and quite startling direction down the line.

It is altogether a fascinating graphic novel, that starts as a dark superhero story (the closest character to V, in the DC Comics universe, is probably Batman — especially in the unbeatable albums of [a:Frank Miller|15085|Frank Miller|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1335457016p2/15085.jpg]) and ends up in a somewhat ambiguous way, dialogues turning into long monologues, and direct actions into memories — the evocation of the concentration camps are chilling —, dreams, metaphors, reflections, Cockney wordplay, silence. The artwork makes ingenious and sometimes dizzying use of angles, shadows and repetitions, but the style and looks are conventional. The book was initially published in black and white. For some reason, the latest editions have been coloured: the result is visually shabby and irritating.

Since Moore and Lloyd’s book, V’s mask has become the famous icon of the Anonymous cyber-activists and protesters movement. I guess the authors would not disavow this ideological twist: after all, V for Vendetta is an anarchist vindication of resistance, rebellion and, even, of revolutions — which, as it happens, is a diametrically opposite stance to that of George Orwell. I guess it might also be read as a vindication of media manipulation, terrorism, civil unrest and political chaos — a widespread phenomenon 30-odd years later —, which is one of the many deliberate and troubling ambiguities of this book.

I watched the 2005 film adaptation by the Wachowskis, with Natalie Portman, a few years ago. She, of course, is, as always, outstanding. I particularly remember being both elated and terrified by the opening and closing Bonfire Night scenes, with the pyrotechnics over the London skyline and the detonating cannons in Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture. I forget about the rest.

really quite good. mature & intense, but very interesting to read. huzzah Alan Moore!

Creepy, post-Orwellian politics in a police state. Clearly an indictment of Thatcher/Regan-era policies in the 80s, but in a smart, successful manner that elevates the form of comics. As a sidenote, I recommend listening to John Lennon/Yoko Ono's Plastic Ono Band for a soundtrack. "Remember, remember, the 5th of November..."