Hmmm.... An Essay on Why V Didn't Sleep With Evey.
...And Why He Kicked Her Out. A Work In Progress...
An essay, or perhaps a deconstruction, of Chapter One of Book Two of ‘V for Vendetta’ by Alan Moore and David Lloyd
By Kryss LaBryn
Please do be aware that this contains spoilers for the GN, and, by extension, the film.
I’m listening to Vicious Cabaret (finally!) and kept reading past the end of the song. And I think I’ve discovered another(!) layer of meaning in the two scenes following …
The song is the Prelude to Book 2: This Vicious Cabaret. Immediately following, Chapter 1: The Vanishing begins with V performing a magic trick for Evey. Judging by the cards and rings on the table, this isn’t the first trick he’s done for her, but Alan and David decided to show us this one; it’s the important one. There’s a cube draped with a cloth on a table. V, “with the merest flick” of his wrist, whisks away the cloth; “The rabbit has gone!”
The first thing Evey says is not “How did you do that,” but, “Bring her back!” This is significant. I’ll tell you why in a moment… But V responds, and this is also very important, “Bring her back? But what if she is content where she is? Do we have the right to disturb her?”
He continues, “Ahh, But I see you have already made up your mind.” Also significant. “Very well. We replace the cloth… Like so… And when next we whisk it away… Presto! The rabbit has returned!
“But now her home has gone.” And V stands there, cloth in hand, as Evey and the now cageless rabbit regard one another.
This scene is immediately followed by the one in which, while dancing, Evey asks V why he hasn’t made a pass at her, and he leads her out and leaves her blindfolded in the street. But on the way out he plays her a recording of a previous conversation:
Evey: It’s just that I keep thinking I should try to help you, the way you’re helping me. That’s the deal, isn’t it?
V: No deals, Evey. Not unless you want them.
Evey: Can we make a deal?
V: Yes, I think we can make a deal.
(The tape continues with a newer conversation, the one from after Lilliman’s death…)
Evey: I won’t do any more killing, V… Not even for you. Not ever again.
At this point Evey removes her blindfold to find herself and, apparently, V, standing alone in a street. She says she wants to go back inside.
“’”We can’t,”’” says “V”, adding, “’…Said Silky, suddenly looking sad.
“Why not? Why not?” cried Jo in surprise. “Isn’t this the Land of Do-As-You-Please?”
“Yes,” said Silky, “But it’s time we went back to the Faraway Tree. This land will soon be moving on, and as nice as it is, we don’t want to live here forever.”
“Gracious no,” said Jo. “Our mothers and fathers couldn’t possibly do without us.”’”
He then adds, “I’m not your father, Evey. Your father is dead.”
It is roughly this point that Evey discovers that “V” is simply a coat rack dressed in his cloak, mask, wig, and hat, with the tape recorder hanging on it, and that she’s been abandoned…
Now, for my analysis: First, the thing one must always remember about V is that he speaks with layers of meanings, and the question you just asked, despite all appearances, may not be the (only) one he’s answering. Very rarely does he say anything that applies only to the moment. So, keeping this in mind…
The rabbit is Evey.
Metaphorically, of course. With a “flick of his wrist”, he made Evey disappear from the outside world, into the sanctuary of the Gallery. And the first thing Evey says is, “Bring her back!” Does she subconsciously want to return? Does V think that she subconsciously wants to return? Or is he testing her? There’s so very many tests… He does say, “Bring her back? But what if she is content where she is? Do we have the right to disturb her?”
Do you want to go back, Evey?
“Ahh, but I see you have already made up your mind. Very well.” If that’s truly what you want, Evey. “We replace the cloth… Like so… And when next we whisk it away… Presto! The rabbit has returned! But now her home has gone…”
Evey’s home, her apartment above, is gone. She’s been gone too long. When she finds herself alone again, she must resort to rummaging through garbage bins in order to eat. Luckily, the man who catches her at it in his yard is Gordon Dietrich, who takes her in. She is rescued, again (which is another whole essay right there).
But what about the taped conversation? What is V’s point in playing it? I give it to you here again, with my comments added:
Evey: It’s just that I keep thinking I should try to help you, the way you’re helping me. That’s the deal, isn’t it?
V: No deals, Evey. Not unless you want them.
He plays this in response to the question, “Why haven’t you tried to sleep with me?” She’s been waiting for him to make some move, something to indicate desire; a desire to trade sex for his aid, if not desire for Evey herself. But I believe that V, here, is saying No deals, Evey. Not unless you want them, in response to her question of sex, as well as in reference to the original conversation. If she made the first move, he might be quite willing. But nothing would happen until and unless she offered. No deals, Evey. Not unless you want them.
To continue…
Evey: Can we make a deal?
V: Yes, I think we can make a deal.
It’s a deal with the devil, here; back to the conversation that leaves her an accessory to a bishop’s death; but, and this is very important, she still made a deal. And what would either of them have, or anyone in their situation (being political dissidents in a fascist regime and societal non-entities), if they couldn’t rely on one another, rely on one’s given word? Evey made a deal. She was offered the opportunity to turn it down, but, while it’s true she didn’t realize what the end result of her bargain would be, she still made a deal. She gave her word that she would help. But almost the next thing she says, after they return to the Shadow Gallery, is, I won’t do any more killing, V… Not even for you. Not ever again.
Evey has broken her word. V cannot rely on her.
But he has another task for her. She may not be his regent, but she can still be his successor:
“We can’t,” says “V”, adding, “’…Said Silky, suddenly looking sad.
“Why not? Why not?” cried Jo in surprise. “Isn’t this the Land of Do-As-You-Please?”
“Yes,” said Silky, “But it’s time we went back to the Faraway Tree. This land will soon be moving on, and as nice as it is, we don’t want to live here forever.”
Obviously, the Land of Do-As-You-Please is, here, a metaphor for the Shadow Gallery: there she has been free, for the first time in a very long while, if ever, to do exactly as she pleased: read what she liked, watch what she liked, think and say what she liked. This is alluded to directly in “Vicious Cabaret”, in the lines “Though she doubts her host’s moralities, she decides that she is more at ease, in the Land of Doing-As-You-Please, than outside in the cold.”
But the Land is moving on. V knows his own death is inevitable; indeed, he has to die, and those in charge must know that he is dead, in order for his successor’s reappearance to truly drive the lesson home: ideas are bullet-proof. Bullet-proof. This is not a revolution that they can stop with guns. And he cannot remain her guardian indefinitely.
“Gracious no,” said Jo. “Our mothers and fathers couldn’t possibly do without us.”
“I’m not your father, Evey. Your father is dead.”
V is not her father. But who is? In a larger sense, is not the state that raised her after her own parents’ deaths also a parent? Also her mother and father? And what will become of that state, that society that will (hopefully) survive Norsefire’s destruction, if Evey, in her role as V’s successor, is not there to guide them, in some form at least? Even if her only public role is to be the watcher from the shadows, the guardian everyone knows can’t be killed, being the conscience of the people. Something to make them think twice about whatever new societal and political structure and parties they form… “Our mothers and fathers couldn’t possibly do without us.”
But they might be willing to follow the Evey-rabbit down the hole…
An essay, or perhaps a deconstruction, of Chapter One of Book Two of ‘V for Vendetta’ by Alan Moore and David Lloyd
By Kryss LaBryn
Please do be aware that this contains spoilers for the GN, and, by extension, the film.
I’m listening to Vicious Cabaret (finally!) and kept reading past the end of the song. And I think I’ve discovered another(!) layer of meaning in the two scenes following …
The song is the Prelude to Book 2: This Vicious Cabaret. Immediately following, Chapter 1: The Vanishing begins with V performing a magic trick for Evey. Judging by the cards and rings on the table, this isn’t the first trick he’s done for her, but Alan and David decided to show us this one; it’s the important one. There’s a cube draped with a cloth on a table. V, “with the merest flick” of his wrist, whisks away the cloth; “The rabbit has gone!”
The first thing Evey says is not “How did you do that,” but, “Bring her back!” This is significant. I’ll tell you why in a moment… But V responds, and this is also very important, “Bring her back? But what if she is content where she is? Do we have the right to disturb her?”
He continues, “Ahh, But I see you have already made up your mind.” Also significant. “Very well. We replace the cloth… Like so… And when next we whisk it away… Presto! The rabbit has returned!
“But now her home has gone.” And V stands there, cloth in hand, as Evey and the now cageless rabbit regard one another.
This scene is immediately followed by the one in which, while dancing, Evey asks V why he hasn’t made a pass at her, and he leads her out and leaves her blindfolded in the street. But on the way out he plays her a recording of a previous conversation:
Evey: It’s just that I keep thinking I should try to help you, the way you’re helping me. That’s the deal, isn’t it?
V: No deals, Evey. Not unless you want them.
Evey: Can we make a deal?
V: Yes, I think we can make a deal.
(The tape continues with a newer conversation, the one from after Lilliman’s death…)
Evey: I won’t do any more killing, V… Not even for you. Not ever again.
At this point Evey removes her blindfold to find herself and, apparently, V, standing alone in a street. She says she wants to go back inside.
“’”We can’t,”’” says “V”, adding, “’…Said Silky, suddenly looking sad.
“Why not? Why not?” cried Jo in surprise. “Isn’t this the Land of Do-As-You-Please?”
“Yes,” said Silky, “But it’s time we went back to the Faraway Tree. This land will soon be moving on, and as nice as it is, we don’t want to live here forever.”
“Gracious no,” said Jo. “Our mothers and fathers couldn’t possibly do without us.”’”
He then adds, “I’m not your father, Evey. Your father is dead.”
It is roughly this point that Evey discovers that “V” is simply a coat rack dressed in his cloak, mask, wig, and hat, with the tape recorder hanging on it, and that she’s been abandoned…
Now, for my analysis: First, the thing one must always remember about V is that he speaks with layers of meanings, and the question you just asked, despite all appearances, may not be the (only) one he’s answering. Very rarely does he say anything that applies only to the moment. So, keeping this in mind…
The rabbit is Evey.
Metaphorically, of course. With a “flick of his wrist”, he made Evey disappear from the outside world, into the sanctuary of the Gallery. And the first thing Evey says is, “Bring her back!” Does she subconsciously want to return? Does V think that she subconsciously wants to return? Or is he testing her? There’s so very many tests… He does say, “Bring her back? But what if she is content where she is? Do we have the right to disturb her?”
Do you want to go back, Evey?
“Ahh, but I see you have already made up your mind. Very well.” If that’s truly what you want, Evey. “We replace the cloth… Like so… And when next we whisk it away… Presto! The rabbit has returned! But now her home has gone…”
Evey’s home, her apartment above, is gone. She’s been gone too long. When she finds herself alone again, she must resort to rummaging through garbage bins in order to eat. Luckily, the man who catches her at it in his yard is Gordon Dietrich, who takes her in. She is rescued, again (which is another whole essay right there).
But what about the taped conversation? What is V’s point in playing it? I give it to you here again, with my comments added:
Evey: It’s just that I keep thinking I should try to help you, the way you’re helping me. That’s the deal, isn’t it?
V: No deals, Evey. Not unless you want them.
He plays this in response to the question, “Why haven’t you tried to sleep with me?” She’s been waiting for him to make some move, something to indicate desire; a desire to trade sex for his aid, if not desire for Evey herself. But I believe that V, here, is saying No deals, Evey. Not unless you want them, in response to her question of sex, as well as in reference to the original conversation. If she made the first move, he might be quite willing. But nothing would happen until and unless she offered. No deals, Evey. Not unless you want them.
To continue…
Evey: Can we make a deal?
V: Yes, I think we can make a deal.
It’s a deal with the devil, here; back to the conversation that leaves her an accessory to a bishop’s death; but, and this is very important, she still made a deal. And what would either of them have, or anyone in their situation (being political dissidents in a fascist regime and societal non-entities), if they couldn’t rely on one another, rely on one’s given word? Evey made a deal. She was offered the opportunity to turn it down, but, while it’s true she didn’t realize what the end result of her bargain would be, she still made a deal. She gave her word that she would help. But almost the next thing she says, after they return to the Shadow Gallery, is, I won’t do any more killing, V… Not even for you. Not ever again.
Evey has broken her word. V cannot rely on her.
But he has another task for her. She may not be his regent, but she can still be his successor:
“We can’t,” says “V”, adding, “’…Said Silky, suddenly looking sad.
“Why not? Why not?” cried Jo in surprise. “Isn’t this the Land of Do-As-You-Please?”
“Yes,” said Silky, “But it’s time we went back to the Faraway Tree. This land will soon be moving on, and as nice as it is, we don’t want to live here forever.”
Obviously, the Land of Do-As-You-Please is, here, a metaphor for the Shadow Gallery: there she has been free, for the first time in a very long while, if ever, to do exactly as she pleased: read what she liked, watch what she liked, think and say what she liked. This is alluded to directly in “Vicious Cabaret”, in the lines “Though she doubts her host’s moralities, she decides that she is more at ease, in the Land of Doing-As-You-Please, than outside in the cold.”
But the Land is moving on. V knows his own death is inevitable; indeed, he has to die, and those in charge must know that he is dead, in order for his successor’s reappearance to truly drive the lesson home: ideas are bullet-proof. Bullet-proof. This is not a revolution that they can stop with guns. And he cannot remain her guardian indefinitely.
“Gracious no,” said Jo. “Our mothers and fathers couldn’t possibly do without us.”
“I’m not your father, Evey. Your father is dead.”
V is not her father. But who is? In a larger sense, is not the state that raised her after her own parents’ deaths also a parent? Also her mother and father? And what will become of that state, that society that will (hopefully) survive Norsefire’s destruction, if Evey, in her role as V’s successor, is not there to guide them, in some form at least? Even if her only public role is to be the watcher from the shadows, the guardian everyone knows can’t be killed, being the conscience of the people. Something to make them think twice about whatever new societal and political structure and parties they form… “Our mothers and fathers couldn’t possibly do without us.”
But they might be willing to follow the Evey-rabbit down the hole…