Stephen McGinty: The face in the crowd that spells trouble … even for old friends

As a fan of V for Vendetta, seeing that Guy Fawkes mask popping up in protests should have had me rushing to my keyboard

FOR a columnist, l’esprit d’escalier is a constant companion. “The wit of the staircase”, the discovery of the perfect put down, killer line or scintillating topic is guaranteed to dawn immediately after the column has been put to bed, tucked in, and, sadly, left to die in its sleep, before a prompt burial in a shroud of newsprint. (Now, don’t get all sentimental. There will be a new one every week and there is always the heavenly afterlife of the internet, where no-one listens as old arguments chatter on, paragraphs spinning into infinity, endlessly seeking a point.)

In September, I thought of writing about a pale, well-groomed gentleman with rosy cheeks, who was cropping up in New York, Sydney, London and Glasgow and whom, courtesy of an ill-spent youth hanging around in comic shops, I happened to know exceedingly well. But I didn’t. And now, frustratingly, I wish I had. For, if so, I would surely have been hailed as a visionary, surfing boldly the foaming wave of protest and popular culture. Instead, like a donkey, tied to the hitching post of a worn band wagon that has recently left town, I’m bringing up the rear.

On Sunday, a broadsheet newspaper, that I prefer not to name out of bitterness, published an interview with Alan Moore. If the name is unfamiliar to you, it is important to be aware of three points: 1) Alan Moore is a literary genius who bestowed upon comics an intellect and a soul. 2) He is the author of V for Vendetta, a comic strip whose “hero” has climbed out of the panel, escaped the page and is now resident at a protest camp near you. 3) Alan Moore worships the ancient Roman snake god, Glycon who can best be described as resembling Kaa from The Jungle Book in a feathered blond wig. (It’s true, Google him.)

The subject of the interview was how he felt about one of his characters being adopted as the face of urban protest. You may have noticed that many of today’s protesters are wearing the mask of a white-faced man with a broad smile, one which can be both comforting and sinister depending on the circumstance, and a long, curved moustache completed by a dagger of black hair on the chin. To the outside world, it is none other than Guy Fawkes, but is, in fact, the character of ‘V’ from V for Vendetta. So, who is ‘V’ and why has he become the emblem for anti-establishment protest groups?

Well, V was born in 1983, and DC Thomson, home of The Broons and Oor Wullie, was almost the midwife. Six years previously, at the age of 22, Alan Moore had submitted the idea to the Dundee publishers who, perhaps understandably, had furrowed their brows at the story of a terrorist who sets about the destruction of a fascist state. Dez Skinn, the editor of Warrior, looked upon the idea more favourably when, years later, Moore and the artist David Lloyd approached him. In the initial stages, V was dressed in the garb of a traditional superhero, and it was Lloyd who came up with the idea that this mysterious figure would adopt the cloak, hat and mask of England’s most famous, and futile, revolutionary. In the story, Britain is a fascist state, ruled by Norsefire, a political party that has herded opponents into concentration camps. V is an anarchist whose intent is the destruction of the establishment, a mission which he means to conduct in a wildly theatrical manner, with bombs that result in the destruction of the Houses of Parliament and High Court designed to boom as the crescendo of a piece of classical music.

Although the story was written in 1983, it would prove prescient, with V able to succeed by hacking into the government’s supercomputer. Among the inspirations for the character was a short story written in 1963 by Harlan Ellison called “Repent Harlequin!” Said The Ticktockman, which is also set in a dsytopian future in which time is strictly controlled (if you are late, time is docked off your life), but one where the authority is challenged by the japes of an anarchist dressed in a harlequin’s costume.

Unfortunately, Warrior folded in 1985 after 26 issues, with the story of V unfinished and his identity still unknown. Three years later, in 1988, DC Comics, the American company, persuaded Moore and Lloyd to finish the story, which was re-published as a ten-part series. And here is where it would have remained, beloved by comic geeks and ignored by the wider world, was it not for the fact that Moore and Lloyd sold the film rights and, in 2005, a $70 million Hollywood movie was made of the comic, starring Natalie Portman and Hugo Weaving. The film ended with the population of London rising up against the tyranny of the corrupt government, with each citizen dressed in a hat, cloak and V mask. The personification of the power of the anonymous individual.

The first use of the mask by a protest group is thought to have been in 2008 when members of the hackers group Anonymous used it while protesting in London against Scientology. Since then, V has made regular appearances at both the G8 and G20 conferences and the current Occupy protests in Wall Street and St Paul’s. Last week, V moved even closer to mainstream acceptance and recognition when Shepard Fairey, who created the famous image of Barack Obama with the word “hope”, adapted it, replacing the president with a masked protester.

What is interesting is how Guy Fawkes, through V, has gone from a saggy, straw-filled figure destined to be heaved onto the bonfire, to a new emblem of individual integrity and action, a symbol of how one man can try to change the world. Except, of course, what each person who wears the mask must also embrace is that the image is a sinister one, synonymous with violence. So why is it being worn? Well, first, it does look rather cool and appeals to the theatrical nature of protesters for whom so much is for show. Second, it is possible to draw parallels between the figure in Moore’s book, the Hollywood film and the protesters’ goals: both see the current situation as wildly unjust and criminal and so wish to bring about its demise.

I have great respect for Moore’s integrity. Unhappy at the way he has been treated by Hollywood, instead of accepting the hundreds of thousands of pounds due to him for the likes of V for Vendetta and Watchmen, he has signed the fees over to his co-creators, David Lloyd and Dave Gibbons respectively.

Once, when asked if his decision to strike his name off the credits on the films was not akin to “throwing the baby out with the bath water” he replied: “Well I don’t own the baby any more. During a drunken night it turned out that I’d sold it to the gypsies and they had turned my baby to a life of prostitution. Occasionally, they would send me glossy pictures of my child as she now was, and they would, very, very kindly, send me a cut of the earnings.”

Last week, Moore appeared quite pleased by the latest incarnation of his “baby” arguing that it lent a sense of “romance and drama” to the tedium of protest. Yet the story has one ironic twist. Warner Brothers licensed the design to Rubies Costume Company who started out making promotional V masks but are now selling over 100,000 a year, with 16,000 sold in Britain at between £4-£7, with a percentage flowing back to one of America’s top 100 companies, a key ventricle in the beating heart of the system protesters wish to rip out. As V smirks, the question remains, who will have the last laugh?