V For Poetry
V for Valerie
A few weeks ago I wrote a triptych of poems from the points of view of three characters from V for Vendetta1 who spent time in a jail cell, and about how they learnt something there and passed that message on to us.
The first of these is based on Valerie Page2, once an actress and then an inmate at “Larkhill Resettlement Camp.” To V she was the woman in room 4 (IV) who gave him hope, to Evey she was the woman who gave her strength, and to me – when I read it as a young man – she was someone who spoke without shame when I myself was full of insecurities, although her inspiration took a while to come to fruition in my own life.
Even in her darkest moment she held on to “An inch. It’s small and it’s fragile and it’s the only thing in the world worth having. We must never lose it, or sell it, or give it away. We must never let them take it from us.”
Here is part of my poetic version of her letter:
She pushed the paper through the wall
with no idea if it would be read at all
But faith despite reason spurred her on
when all other hopes had gone
Her life had been full of hope before
When she had all she could wish for
Her love and the stage was her world then
Now she would never see either again
Throughout three long warm summers
they inhabited a world without corners
Their future was as open as their hope
and no possibility was beyond their scope
She’d previously tried to give her heart
To another who didn’t want any part –
of her beyond her warmth in the night
til the world said it just wasn’t right
She might have given up and complied
to the world and denied what was inside
But she wasn’t content to put on the shelf
all that made her true to herself
So she embraced the new love she found
though society upon them frowned
And she wouldn’t never apologise to anyone
even when fate she could no longer outrun
For each day then she had a scarlet rose
Happiness uninterrupted without any woes
That blossomed and bloomed every day
til the last petal dropped and blew away
Still she held on to their lasting memory
no matter how dark her world might be
The fragrance still lingered on the air
as if a part of her was still there
And she retained that part of herself
That lasted longer than her health
“They cannot take that last part of me
I’ll keep the last inch of my integrity”
They can erase the record of you on earth
Scrub even the mention of your birth
But some things they can never take from you
that remain yours no matter what they do
Behind any mask you wore for your defence
it is who you are beneath any pretence
Don’t let them take that inch, don’t give it away
Hold tight on to it each and every day
Remember no matter how hard they pinch
to keep yourself even if but an inch
For that inch is your refuge, your sanctuary
and whatever changes it is who you’ll always be
She discovered that is the key to staying free inside: “But it was my integrity that was important. Is that so selfish? It sells for so little, but it’s all we have left in this place. It is the very last inch of us, but within that inch we are free.”
She ended her letter speaking to you, “I don’t know who you are. Or whether you’re a man or a woman. I may never see you or cry with you or get drunk with you. But I love you.”
She began her letter saying “I don’t know who you are but I love you” and ended her letter with just an X. This lead me to write a freeform poem:
Her last symbol was an X
It often is used to cross out
to erase what was there before
But it also signifies a kiss
A last declaration of affection
It is the hope that someone will see it
And feel touched by it
Whether on the cheek or the lips
Whether meant romantically
or taken platonically
it can be a defiant act
the love she felt was forbidden
the love she shared with that x
would have been erased and forgotten
except that it wasn’t
It survived to be seen by you
and recognised by you
for what it is
the hope that love can live on
even long after this broken, beaten
worn out dying body is gone
I don’t plan to post the other two poems I wrote - this one was bad enough!
An excerpt from the graphic novel:
V Speaks To Madam Justice On Anarchy
Although I believe the film adaptation of V For Vendetta was sincere, it lacked some of the explicit references to V’s political philosophy, including his conversation with Madam Justice, who sits atop the Old Bailey criminal court.
V For Vendetta, 1988, DC Vertigo Comics, Alan Moore, David Lloyd, and Tony Weare.
Adapted into the 2005 film of the same name by Lana and Lilly Wachowski.