| on 16-11-2006 08:06
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Published in : , Art |
The Legend of Octobriana by Chris McMorrow
This issue's cover depicts one of the most enduring female icons in the history of super hero comics, the sex-starved pseudo-communist Octobriana. The myth surrounding this unique heroine's origin is the stuff of comic legend itself -- a bizarre art theft set against the backdrop of the Cold War. Unlike typical female characters in comics, this Soviet styled Barbarella depended on her muscles and wits to fight for liberation of the oppressed. Although far from the feminist ideal, a fiercely independent warrior who served the people while getting her freak on in the early seventies was highly unusual in central and eastern Europe.
Although her authorship is still debated, the general consensus involves a handful of Czechoslovakian artists who illustrated adventure novels. As a film student at the Film and Television School of the Academy of Performing Arts in Prague (FAMU) in the early sixties, Petr Sadecký had long been a hardcore devotee of comic book culture. Also a staunch supporter of the Soviet Union, he regularly infuriated his professors with papers on obscure Soviet films from the early 20th century. He was also known for his admiration of two well-known Czechoslovakian illustrators of the time, Zdeněk Burian and Bohumil Konečný. He had approached both of them as a young fan and visited the artist's studios' frequently.
The fantastical side of Octobriana's story begins with Sadecký's claim that in 1961, at age 18; he was sought out by a group of Soviet dissidents while lecturing in Russia. After delivering an impromptu speech on the artistic potential of comics, a member of the Progressive Political Pornography Party approached him and invited him to join an underground group of nontraditional geniuses. Sadecký described the PPP s meeting in secret to speak out against the Kremlin and Russia's Stalinism, hold drunken orgies and create comic strips starring Octobriana, the embodiment of their ideology.
What really happened is a bit less thrilling. Before emigrating to West Germany in 1967, Sadecký is said to have helped himself to more than a thousand drawings and paintings by Burian and Konečný -- among these were a number of depictions of an Octobriana look-alike named Amazona. At some point within the next three years, he reportedly stuck a red star on Amazona’s forehead and the free loving October Revolution figurehead was born.
Armed with his idols' stolen artwork and an aptitude for fabrication, Sadecký combined drawings of Octobriana acting as an agent for the Pentagon or Bejing Maoists, information about the purported PPP to create an entire book titled Octobriana and the Russian Underground. Released in a number of countries during 1971, its fraudulent nature was immediately obvious to readers, especially Czechoslovaks who easily recognized the work of Burian and Konečný.
Despite the obvious hoax, the ensuing scandal tainted all the comics in Czechoslovakia, branding the genre as a decadent and ideologically threatening form of Western culture. Although innocent by today's standards, the book documented a counter-culture behind the Iron Curtain that most people already knew existed. Burian and Konečný attempted to explain their unwitting participation in the publication by pledging their support to the Communist party but were ultimately forced to stop illustrating novels. In the end, Sadecký succeeded in scripting his own dubious tale of the international intrigue he spent his childhood reading.
The 1980s saw the emergence of Octobriana as a solid presence in comics, posters and advertisements. Due to her non-copyright status, countless illustrators have depicted Octobriana in a variety of incarnations. In many ways, Octobriana’s rich genealogy was unintentional and improvisational, but served to lend credence to comics as a valid art form and even warn of a political revolution to come.
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