I've been in many discussions over the years -- some in classes I
was teaching, some over pints in the bar, and still others late at
night with people I love -- about what Alan Moore was trying to say
with Watchmen, discussions about the meaning of his graphic novel,
and I am convinced that the meaning is not what most people think.
Most people I have talked to look at Veidt's mini-Armageddon to
bring peace as inherently evil -- and the most monstrous act in a
book of monstrous acts. Veidt's act trumps The Comedian's attempted
rape of Silk Spectre and the murder of his child in the womb; it
trumps Rorschach's punishment of the child killer, his torture of
"innocent" informants, and the brutality he delivers onto anyone he
happens to see committing a "crime," petty or otherwise; it trumps
Dr. Manhattan's personal engagement in the Vietnam War; Veidt's
action even seems to trump the not-so-petty criminal activities we
see perpetrated by peripheral "criminals" throughout Watchmen.
On the surface, we tend to condemn Veidt's action because of its
scale. It's cold and precise and sterile and necessarily takes the
lives of "millions of innocent people." We have been indoctrinated
from the youngest ages to hate this kind of killing more than any
other. Our great monsters are Hitler, Stalin, Pol Pot, but we
somehow find it in our hearts and minds to forgive Truman's nuclear
attacks on Japan because they "saved millions of lives," as a young
Walter Kovacs (aka Rorschach) writes in an essay about his absent
father, defending Nuclear War and the Truman doctrine, albeit at an
early age. And if we can forgive Truman's attack (I recognize that
some people cannot forgive that attack, but many, many can), why
not forgive Veidt? If we can forgive one, we must forgive the
other. Sure Veidt killed more people, but he saved more too, and
created a utopia out of the chaos.
This discrepancy in our accepted opinions is not lost on Alan
Moore; in fact, it is at the core of Watchmen. We see it being
played out in dialogue and action by characters from The Comedian
to Rorschach, from Ozymandias to Dr. Manhattan, and even in the
supporting folk who populate Moore's distopian future.
When faced with this discrepancy and pressed to discover why
Veidt's actions continue to rile us, it doesn't take long to
uncover a deeper root for our disdain: our need for individuality
and Veidt's destruction of the freedom to make our own mistakes.
This realization of our anger at Veidt and why his action is "evil"
quickly becomes the accepted meaning of Moore's story: that
derailing humanity's ability to choose is the greatest wrong anyone
can commit (the secular see this as a fundamental attack on our
freedom, while the religious see this as our fundamental gift from
God, but they tend to add anger at Veidt for playing God), and that
Veidt's utopia will fail because the power of the individual is too
great -- it always overcomes.
I disagree.
I don't think Moore considers Veidt's act evil so much as
misguided. I am not convinced that Moore believes in good and evil
at all. Throughout [book:Watchmen] we are led to see one man as the
man who "gets it" and that figure is not Rorschach. Rorschach is a
guide, nothing more. Rorschach acts as an Horatio figure, guiding
us through the narrative, telling us what to pay attention to, whom
to believe, what to see: mostly he is trying to get us to see The
Comedian. If the story is anyone's it is The Comedian's. The
Comedian is the man who "gets it," and what the amoral Comedian
gets is that morality is a construct designed to help us avoid
despairing at what Moore believes is the truth: humanity is violent
and base; it is ignoble; it is doomed to repeat and repeat and
repeat its violence because that is what humanity does best --
violence -- and everything else is playacting. Thus, Veidt's
mini-Armageddon is futile, not because of our noble individuality,
not because of the strength of our human spirit, but because of the
strength of our animal instincts. All those lives were wasted to
create a utopia that simply couldn't be.
And Rorschach's journal, slipped through the door of the paper and
ready to be printed, is the detonation cap.
[book:Watchmen] may be the most hopeless popular book printed in
the last fifty years, and the most truthful. I am continually
shocked by its popularity (even if only as a cult phenomenon), but
then maybe it is only popular through a quirk of misunderstanding.
Then again, it could be popular because people understand it better
than they're willing to admit.