V for Valerie

by gumilangra

When it comes to movie, I tend to be a bit conservative . Instead of having passionate motivation to explore newest movie, most of the time I find it exhilarating watch my favorite movies—or movie scenes—again and again. One of them is V for Vendetta, a movie based on the 1982 Vertigo graphic novel of the same name by Alan Moore and David Lloyd. This movie set in the future Britain, which is governed by totalitarian rule of the fascist party. The story itself is about the revenge of V (protagonist) and how he guide the British people to overthrow their dictator-led government, which might be concisely represented by this quote of him: “People shouldn’t be afraid of their government. Governments should be afraid of their people”.

But among all the thrilling scenes in this movie, there’s a scene that keeps me watching it again and again: Valerie’s autobiography scene. This powerful scene tells about the life of a gay woman who were trapped in the country who were burned by the hatred of ‘the different ones’.

vendettanw5aValerie, after she was captured (the image source is here)

Here is the complete transcript of her autobiography, based on the film:

“I know there’s no way I can convince you this is not one of their tricks. But I don’t care. I am me.

My name is Valerie. I don’t think I’ll live much longer, and I wanted to tell someone about my life. This is the only autobiography that I’ll ever write, and–God–I’m writing it on toilet paper.

I was born in Nottingham in 1985. I don’t remember much of those early years. But I do remember the rain. My grandmother owned a farm in Tottlebrook, and she used to tell me that God was in the rain.

I passed my eleven plus, and went to a girl’s grammar. It was at school that I met my first girlfriend. Her name was Sarah. It was her wrists–they were beautiful. I thought we would love each other forever. I remember our teacher telling us that it was an adolescent phase that people outgrew.

Sarah did.

I didn’t.

In 2002 I fell in love with a girl named Christina. That year I came out to my parents. I couldn’t have done it without Chris holding my hand.

My father wouldn’t look at me. He told me to go and never come back. My mother said nothing.

I’d only told them the truth. Was that so selfish? Our integrity sells for so little, but it is all we really have.

It is the very last inch of us.

And within that inch, we are free.

I’d always known what I’d wanted to do with my life, and in 2015 I started my first film: The Salt Flats.

It was the most important role of my life. Not because of my career, but because that was how I met Ruth. The first time we kissed, I knew I never wanted to kiss any other lips but hers again.

We moved to a small flat in London together. She grew scarlet carsons for me in our window box. And our place always smelt of roses.

Those were the best years of my life.

But America’s war grew worse and worse, and eventually came to London.

After that there were no roses anymore. Not for anyone.

I remember how the meaning of words began to change. How unfamiliar words like “collateral” and “rendition” became frightening. When things like Norsefire and the articles of allegiance became powerful. I remember how different became dangerous.

I still don’t understand it: why they hate us so much.

They took Ruth while she was out buying food. I’ve never cried so hard in my life. It wasn’t long until they came for me.

It seems strange that my life should end in such a terrible place.

But for three years I had roses–and apologised to no-one.

I shall die here. Every inch of me shall perish. Every inch.

But one.

An inch.

It is small and it is fragile, and it is the only thing in the world worth having. We must never lose it or give it away. We must never let them take it from us.

I hope thatwhoever you areyou escape this place. I hope that the world turns, and that things get better.

But what I hope most of all is that you understand what I mean when I tell you that even though I do not know you, and even though I may not meet you, laugh with you, cry with you, or kiss you: I love you.

With all my heart.

I love you.-Valerie.

For me, the message is quite simple actually: no matter who we are or the labels people put on us, we all share the humanity and that’s more than enough for us to love each others. We don’t need to know, to meet, to laugh, to cry, or to kiss to love our fellow human. Too bad many of us forget this and keep living in hatred, even towards the ones they never knew and met. But I believe that just like Mandela said, no one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite. And I also believe that things will get better.

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