Author: Gena Bagley

The circus is where I feel safe. Dazzling lights flash around the mechanical spinning wheel, red-blue-yellow-orange-back to red. It’s hypnotising, the colours bleed into one another as I watch the wheel spin round. My eyes drift to the hand-painted clown in the centre of the spinning blur. Its mouth is stretched into a wide grin, teeth clenched behind overlined red lips. He stares at me with an almost maniacal look in his star-filled eyes. I stare back. The mechanical clicking slows as the wheel comes to a stop.

A cacophony of deafening alarm bells sound, coming from everywhere at once. I would have thought the world was ending if not for the familiarity of the high pitched screech, the scuffle of feet trying frantically to get in formation and the hushed voices, snippets of which caught my ear. ‘ . . .sleeping in again. . .you heard what happened to Francis, boy. . . get up. . .god, he’s as deaf as a post. . .GET UP!’ A sharp whisper through clenched teeth. I pull myself up quickly, too fast. Head spinning as heavy footsteps march towards the metal door, rhythmic like the hand of a conductor or the minute hand on a clock. The key turns in the lock and opens with a click that reverberates around the fear encased room. I will away the grogginess that dampens my senses. Nine of us stand side-by-side, barefoot on the numbingly cold metal floor, backs straight, eyes down, silent. One of the supervisors from our faction stands before us, clipboard in hand and next to him, a bodyguard. I recognise him as one of the guards who took down a member of our cell last week. A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth as if he can hear my heart pounding in my chest, smell the fear. Supervisors never bring bodyguards into our cells, his presence here is a warning. An unspoken threat as if to say, ‘which one of you will be next.‘ Francis knew escape wasn’t an option, we all did. Our pleading did nothing to sway him. It was an impossible task, a suicide mission. I wonder if he knew that too.

The Merry-go-round.

Brilliant. The merry-go-round is my favourite. Pops and clicks sound behind me, sighs of an engine starting and the whir of a machine booting up. Dizziness swells within me just looking at the thing. It’s bigger than I remember, fifteen metres high at least, with a luminescent neon sign reading ‘CARNIVAL SOMNIUM’ in old-fashioned text. The Dream Carnival. Ethereal light pours from the merry-go-round, pooling in my eyes. I drink it up, catching every little detail the light bounces off. I’ve never felt this alive. This feeling is addictive. I run towards the gold ornamented stairs and up onto the platform. My stomach jumps at the sight of it and for an instant, a burning desire lights up inside me. Twelve horses sit frozen within the merry-go-round as if their movements have been halted in the midst of a swift gallop, elegant and regal. A long winding vine that appears to be made of solid gold curls around the stallions, forming shapes both delicate and enticing. It seems to move, even perform as I approach, beckoning me towards the glowing machine, to the horses, to the wondrously brilliant light, to the promise of something exciting. And in the centre of it all hangs a breathtaking crimson banner, the words ‘The Dream Carnival’ embroidered into the fabric with a silver thread. I swing my leg over the horse in front of me and wait for the ride to begin.

To my left a boy is shivering, eyes locked onto the ground. I don’t know his name, only his number. Nine. He’s one of the new ones, brought in with some beggars a couple of weeks back, chucked into our division for lack of any other place to go. It was a justice really, that he wasn’t killed, but the system always has a use for extra bodies. I drag my eyes up from the ground until they land on the supervisor. He’s starting at the other end of the line, checking off our numbers one by one. The lead of the pencil scrapes over the paper, coarse/irregular/violent/threatening, like his hand is gripping the pencil too tightly. Each of our numbers are assigned a dosage of what they call the Bliss, mandatory and taken every morning. I can’t remember why we take it anymore, I just know that I long for the feeling of stardust in my veins-I don’t care if that costs me my humanity. For the moment, all I can do is watch anxiously as the supervisor makes it down the line. I watch as Fours’ head tilts back, eyes rolled into his head in a state of pure euphoria. From the outside, this would look cruel, sadistic, inhumane. But this is all we have. All there is to look forward to. The boy to my left is restless, picking at his dirt-encrusted nails, chewing on chapped raw lips, eyes flickering down the line every so often and then firmly back to the ground in front of him. It’s not unusual for us to be anxious before taking our shot of Bliss, the effects of it never last the full day, but the boy looks as though he’s about to bolt through the open door and down the hall, face-to-face with an unfortunate but certain death. I hope he knows better than to test the supervisors’ patience. Air sharply sucked in through clenched teeth. A sigh of relief. Sevens’ done, it’s my turn. I watch, overcome with anticipation as the supervisor strikes my name off the list, checks my dosage number and checks again, can’t be too careful. My legs shake, coated with a fine layer of sweat. He pulls a small clip from the red medical bag resting at his hip and fits it onto my thumb. They don’t use syringes, too easy to snatch out of a careless hand and plunge into the throat of the poor, unaware soul. Not that such an action would guarantee our freedom anyway. The supervisor takes a step closer. I can smell his breath, mouldy and acidic. Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up, do it already. He lifts his hand and flicks the bottom of the clip, once, twice. The sharp point of a needle pierces into the pad of my thumb and iridescent euphoria takes ahold of me.

The merry-go-round hums as it starts to spin round, taking me with it. I couldn’t describe how I truly feel in this moment even if I tried. The air is syrupy and thick, glowing a luminescent orange as I float through it, eyes wide, mouth agape in wonder. I could’ve laughed. The circus around me begins to blur. Stardust falls from the merry-go-round, coating the horses with a blanket of shimmer. I think for a moment that a figure stands at the foot of the merry-go-round but no. It can’t be, this is my place. My escape. They don’t get to come here. I look for a second time and sure enough, there’s someone there. Nine looks at me as I spin round, faster and faster, I can only just make out his face. His expression is pained/scared/broken. It happens fast. Nine turns to sprint down the path but he’s stopped. The clown with over-lined red lips, clenched teeth and star-filled eyes stands over him, only this time the stars have died and black beads remain.

A swift hit, an unnatural crack, a spray of red staining the concrete. The air, once sweet like honey turns bitter in my mouth. Nine’s head is craned at a grotesque angle, his eyes wide open, looking straight at me. I laugh. He deserves it for thinking he could escape the cell, avoid the Bliss, leave us here, leave me here. He’s better off dead.

I can hardly see the body now, the gold vines are curling over him, pushing what remains of Nine into the ground. Stardust falls over the red. It was never there. I turn to look at the horse next to me. Seven looks at me with star-filled eyes and a maniacal grin wide enough to make him look insane. I wonder if I look the same. I don’t care if I do. I’m happy. The circus is where I feel safe.

In dystopian literature, a common trope is the idea of the struggle against control in society, generally carried out by a corrupt government. Through the use of two types of cinematography techniques, soundtrack and montage, V for Vendetta director, James McTeigue, is able to present to the viewer the impact of a single person and how an idea can change the world. This film tells the story of V, a masked freedom fighter who openly rejects all forms of conformity and societal constraints by committing a series of public attacks in order to create a fair and just society. James McTeigue portrays ‘the power of an idea’ through the soundtrack and montage in both the Domino scene and the Fight scene, which reveal to the viewer how an individual’s actions can create the momentum for change within a corrupt society.

The first of these two scenes which establish a clear insight into V’s intentions and plans is the Domino scene. James McTeigue cleverly employs the use of soundtrack and montage in this scene to exhibit V’s masterplan. The scene opens with V placing down a red domino as Guy Fawkes masks are delivered across the city. “So far we count eight box cars. Several hundred thousand, at least.” Eric Finch, a British police officer is distressed upon hearing this news. This is stemmed from the realisation that there has been a shift in power within the totalitarian society they are upholding. This ties back to a quote by V earlier in the film, ‘People should not be afraid of their government, the government should be afraid of their people.’ Montage is one of the key cinematography techniques that make this scene an integral part of the film. Montage sequences are often used in films to heighten tension within a scene whilst broadcasting crucial information to the viewer. McTeigue utilizes the cinematography technique montage to convey to the audience the power a group of people hold when fighting for the same idea. Detective Eric Finch initiates the montage through the reveal of his visit to Lark Hill, an abandoned experimental testing-facility.

‘I suddenly got this feeling that everything was connected. A perfect pattern laid out in front of me. And I realised we’re all trapped by it.

This dialogue plays over the montage as images of civilians being shot and people rioting against their government come into view. McTeigue layers Finch’s voiceover on top of the thumping rhythm of drums and suspenseful violins. “One long chain of events that stretched all the way back before Larkhill.” Throughout this, V continues to place dominos one by one, as if the dominos symbolise the workings of his plan coming together, unifying. Finch continues to speak as the people of London rebelling against their society and shots from the Fight scene appear in quick succession. Sparking sounds from a bomb tie into the montage of V’s dominos that continue to build up. The soundtrack and montage come to a climax with the chime of a bell.

Dominic: “So do you know what’s gonna happen?“

Inspector Finch “No. It was a feeling. With so much chaos, someone will do something stupid..”

A prolonged silence rings out as V reaches a gloved hand towards the long line of red dominos. Suspense is created in this scene as a single note is held. With a slight flick, the first domino topples and thus begins the rapid fall of the corrupt society he and many others are trapped by. McTeigue uses this scene as a metaphor for V’s plan finally falling into place. As an audience, we are positioned reflect on our own power, and how we are much more than the body we are in. McTeigue uses the dominos as a metaphor for the crumbling regime that is the corrupt British government. Using the suspenseful music intertwined with the rapid montage and Finch’s dialogue, McTeigue drives the film to a significant climax in which V’s idea of change is clarified. In a world where the themes of corrupt power, over-surveillance and rebellion that are presented in the film are prevalent, the message McTeigue is trying to portray to the audience is all the more significant. Throughout this scene, James McTeigue is sending a message to the viewer about conformity and how change within a society can happen through numbers. When one person stands up for what they believe in, it is easier for the next person and the next, to do the same. This ties back in with the idea of the ‘domino effect’ through the way in which word-of-mouth and strength in numbers can create the momentum for change. In this day and age with so many real-world controversies occurring presently, the need for people to stand up for what is right becomes so much more valuable.

The second key scene that McTeigue weaves the ‘power of an idea’ into is the Fight scene. In this, McTeigue puts a strong emphasis on the influence of an individual and how an idea with enough traction will survive the death of the individual who formed it. The scene takes place in an underground structure where V intends to meet Creedy and let the last pieces of his plan fall into place. The High Chancellors execution is carried out by Creedy as his men surround V with loaded guns. In exchange for Sutler’s death, V has offered to surrender. “It’s time to take a look at your face. Take off your mask.” V refuses to remove the mask as the suspenseful violin-oriented soundtrack slows, to which Creedy responds “Defiant until the end, huh? You’re not afraid of death.” This exchange strengthens the theme of how an idea does not need a face or a name, only the support of those who believe in it.

V: ‘You have bullets and the hope that when your guns are empty, I’m no longer standing because if I am you’ll all be dead before you’ve reloaded.’

Creedy: ‘That’s impossible. Kill him.’

An array of bullets shoot towards V in quick succession. Creedy’s men are relentless and think of nothing else but V’s eventual death. The soundtrack of bullets firing and guns cocking reinforces the notion of disarray and the desperation Creedy feels as the regime he so desperately wants to uphold, beings to fall. V, despite the rapid gunfire, remains standing and jumps into action, killing all the men with a series of well-executed knife throws and displays a high level of skill whilst doing so. This scene is played out through a montage and highlights V’s determination and strength while also building up to the climax of the film. Fast-paced (allegro) violin and cello music creates an intense atmosphere within the scene which instils anticipation within the viewer. The montage ends with a final knife throw to the head of the last man standing and the sound of a body thudding to the ground. Creedy is left unarmed and defenceless and in the moments before his death, V whispers a final quote.

V- “Beneath this mask, there is more than flesh. Beneath this mask, there is an idea Mr Creedy and ideas are bulletproof.”

The Fight scene ends with V dropping a shot-through bulletproof vest as the clang of metal reverberates around the courtyard. McTeigue recognises the fact that ideas are much more than a facade, an outside image, and reinforces the notion that society judges and forms opinions over visual characteristics, portrayed through Creedy wanting V to remove his mask. An idea is something that can manifest through the oppression of a group within a society, and when this idea is acted upon and put into motion, significant change can be achieved. Through this scene, the viewer is able to finally grasp the change that is being made in the totalitarian society and how the support of the public has made this possible.

In ‘V for Vendetta’, James McTeigue clearly emphasises his intention throughout the two scenes and stresses the importance of an individuals ideas. The ‘power of an idea’ is broadcasted to us through the Domino scene and the Fight scene, in which cinematography techniques Montage and Soundtrack reinforce the director’s intention. The idea of being in control of your individual influence is what McTeigue utilizes to bring the viewers to the realisation that no society or government can be improved without first having an idea, a spark of change. As more controversies are being created by world leaders that affect more than just their country, the message that James McTeigue is portraying throughout V for Vendetta becomes all the more relevant to the current state of the world. A group that supports one idea holds enough power to create a tsunami of change, in the same way V’s idea started the downfall of the corrupt regime that bound the citizens of London. The events of the Domino scene and the Fight scene inform the viewer that one idea, with enough traction and support, can change the world for the better.

Margaret Atwood uses a female antihero to expose readers to Gilead’s oppression of women.

“But who can remember pain, once it’s over? All that remains of it is a shadow, not in the mind even, in the flesh. Pain marks you, but too deep to see. Out of sight, out of mind.” The Handmaids Tale, a dystopian novel written in 1985 by Margret Atwood, details the life of a handmaid by the name of Offred. Atwood weaves many obstacles into the novel which shape and mould the characters as the story progresses. We, as the reader, can see how these events affect the main character Offred through her thoughts, actions and her intelligent nature and reveal to us the oppressive nature of Gilead. The three main events that inspired a change in Offred’s character and exposed Gilead’s oppression of women are the trip to Jezebels, enforced by the Commander, the arranged meeting with Nick in order to conceive and the impact of losing her daughter.

The Handmaids Tales actual storyline takes place over quite a short period of time. Atwood skillfully weaves certain scenarios into the story that test Offred’s willingness to overcome these events. One such event that developed Offred’s story was her trip to Jezebels with the Commander, and this occurrence can be seen as the climax of their time together. In the book, Jezebel’s is a strip/sex club where women who do not qualify to be a Handmaid go and references Jezebel, an ‘evil’ Queen of Israel, from the Hebrew Bible, symbolising sexually enhanced, vicious women. These women work for the Republic of Gilead, most sharing the opinion that working as a prostitute is a better lifestyle than that of the Handmaids or being sent to the colonies. In being prostitutes, the women also gain a sort of superiority over the men who come to Jezebel’s, as they pose a threat to men through the way in which they can enhance their sexuality. It is for this reason that the Commander dresses Offred up and brings her to Jezebels, for his own enjoyment in seeing his ‘plaything’ becoming a real person with real emotions. His disappointment when she does not share the excitement he feels about a genuine sexual encounter makes the fantasy of conspiracy fade. “Fake it, I scream at myself inside my head. You must remember how.” This degree of power that Offred now holds over the Commander engages the reader and entices them to read further as it exposes the oppression that she has been forced to endure. Atwood references the notion that a patriarchal society often divides women into two categories: the virgin and the whore. The women whose bodies hold sexual significance are the Handmaids, and their sexual lives are heavily restricted. They represent the virgins. The workers at Jezebel’s represent the whores, as they claim no ownership to their own bodies, forced to use them for the enjoyment and pleasure of the Commanders and other prominent males in the Gilead times. Women in Gilead are severely oppressed and are only used to fulfil men’s desires. While this degree of oppression that is shown in the novel seems extreme, every event that Atwood has written is inspired by real-world events and real oppression that women have endured. This reflects on our current society, and while we have progressed majorly, causal sexism and oppression of women is still a daily occurrence.

Offred’s constant exposure to conspiracy and rule-breaking leads her to test the limits on how far she can go. This freedom also aids in her losing sight of how corrupt Gilead really is, because for her, she would rather be content with the bare minimum over the possibility of freedom. Towards the end of the book, Serena Joy suggests that perhaps Nick would be a more suitable option for Offred to conceive over the Commander, as she too recognises that he may be sterile. “’I was thinking of Nick,’ she (Serena Joy) says. . . ‘What about the Commander?’. . . ‘We just won’t tell him, will we?’” Ultimately, this proposition was likely intended to benefit only Serena, as her need to care for a child becomes quite obvious as the book progresses, however, Offred finds solace in having a relationship with Nick. This luxury of human connection leads Offred to become reckless and unconcerned about how she is being treated. “The fact is that I no longer want to leave, escape, cross the border to freedom. I want to be here, with Nick, where I can get at him.” It is clear throughout the novel that when one is so severely oppressed, they will grasp at what little freedom they can find and even give up on the idea of escape as not to lose what they have already got. Offred’s meetings with the Commander evolve into meetings with Nick, and while Offred may perceive these experiences to be freeing for her, the underlying truth is that this is yet another layer of oppression and is dehumanising her. Offred is blinded by the option of freedom when there never really was any in the first place. She is never considered to have her own needs as Nick never shows any affection during their meetings and Serena is only using her to gain a child for herself. Gilead’s oppression of women is very clear in this part of the text as Offred is experiencing oppression to the point of not even recognising it herself.

Throughout the novel, Offred’s daughter is constantly occupying her mind. Taken from her when she was five years old after a failed escape attempt pre-Gilead days, Offred’s daughter is never named nor explained but holds a lot of significance in her life. The novel flicks back in time through Offred’s thoughts, to show the reader the events that ended in her daughter being taken away or possibly killed, as neither option is ever confirmed. That is until Offred is approached by Serena Joy about her conspiracy with Nick, a picture of her daughter as bribery so that Serena may have a child to care for. “Something chokes in my throat. The bitch, not to tell me, bring me news, any news at all. Not even to let on” Serena is manipulating Offred’s emotions to ultimately get what she wants whilst giving Offred the bare minimum and contact with her past life. This severe restriction is Serena’s way of maintaining status as a woman in Gilead. When an environment is so oppressive, the oppressed group will often grasp onto any degree of power they can find, seen in the restrictive nature of the Aunt’s, and Serena Joy’s coldness towards the Handmaids. This act of women oppressing women exposes to the reader that there is no freedom for the Handmaid’s in Gilead, they are being oppressed in nearly every sense of the word: sexually, verbally, visually, and follow very strict routines. Despite being so confined and monitored, Offred’s thoughts are still free, being the main way we follow her story. This freedom of thought leads to a lot of reflection on her past life, especially on her daughter. “Do I exist for her? They must have told her I was dead.” Offred admits to an acceptance of her death, however, this may only be because she thought it easier to cope with the fact that her child is no longer living rather than growing up in the corrupted world of Gilead. It is in our nature to feel a certain degree of responsibility towards those who take care of us or to those we take care of. Because we as humans have these experiences, Offred’s relationship with her daughter allows the reader to reflect on their own personal experiences in order to empathise with the character. Atwood evokes tension and thought by using the one person Offred is truly devoted to, and the manipulation of Offred’s feelings by Serena Joy, and this further proves to the readers Gilead’s oppression of women.

In The Handmaid’s Tale, Margret Atwood exposes the readers to an almost unthinkable amount of female oppression and through this, we are able to see how the main character Offred responds and overcomes it. Atwoods purpose in describing these events is to highlight how women do not have equality in our modern society and even though we will continue to fight for it, there will always be some form of oppression upon us. Despite Offred’s situation being quite an extreme circumstance, there are elements that we can relate to through our own real-world experiences. The coronavirus pandemic that has recently spread across the globe has forced almost everyone into a lockdown state for anywhere between two-six months. We can sympathise with Offred’s feeling of being trapped and having one’s rights stripped away within a matter of days by a higher power, as that is exactly what we have had to experience. Overall this similarity gives us a deeper connection to the Handmaid and gives us an understanding of her oppression that we might not have reached without firsthand experience.