So here we are, the final unveiling.
What’s past is prologue.
The by-election will soon take place and my time as Guernsey’s first and only ever anti-Deputy will end.
In this, the final instalment, I will lay out the last revelation of this campaign and then this work will be done.
In part [3-i] and [3-ii], as logic will demonstrate, I set out the origins of this campaign:
David Reed, Dave from Accounts, entered the Loophole and there he met the other half, Deputy Reed (me), the persona and voice of this campaign.
You know what happened next, it’s already been written and published.
The campaign ran, it spread its wings, it soared to terrific heights, it plunged into great depths.
It was winning the hearts and minds of the Bailiwick,
Do Nothing, leave a vacant seat,
But then my magnum opus met the magnificent octopus,
I offered up my service and they struck me down!
The campaign was over.
… or was it?!?
I declared my campaign was a tribute to Victor Hugo on May 4th 2025 and it turned out that all along I could never be defeated. Victor Hugo gives his name to all who would advance freedom and liberty, and that is why I am still here, because not even the States of Guernsey has the authority to sweep Victor Hugo’s will under the rug.
I am not David Reed, that was just a pen name, he could never run this campaign alone. If you believed he was capable of doing that you must truly have lost your minds. He could gain nothing by doing so. I chose him because he had all the necessary talents to deliver my message. He managed to find all the clues and solve the puzzle and so he had to do it, put his name on the line. I didn’t give him much choice in the matter given who I am!
This sounds baffling but that’s because you don’t know who I am. Now it is time for me to clear up the confusion and reveal my true identity.
Then your eyes will open and you will see. It is why I am why I am.
To learn to read is to light a fire;
every syllable that is spelled out is a spark.
What’s in a name?
Up to this point there have been two David Reeds floating around, but I am done with him now. His part in this act has been delivered. He had his entrance, and now he exits stage right [pursued by an Atlas bear].
I needed to use his name for a while, he was on the electoral roll, he fulfilled every criterion to stand in the election so he fit the bill, but now I am trapped in the loophole, with no fixed address. I cannot stand this time and so I have no need for a nom de plume anymore; a lettuce by any other name is just as sweet, so I shall tell you mine.
Who am I then?
Well I am a Sarnian of mysterious origins, my parentage obscure. No one truly knows from whence I originally came. I am a reclusive man, always have been, but with extraordinary skills in fishing and mechanics. A dreamer, some might say, often seen walking around the stones of L’Ancresse or sometimes the cliffs, away with the fairies. A sorcerer even, some say, for reasons unknown, and the suspicion and fear of my superstitious neighbours persists.
I am old,
very old you see.
160 years old to be precise and 2026 is a big birthday.
40 by 2 by 2. Liberation re-doubled.
Who am I?
My name is Gilliat, the Voice of the Islander in the North, Steward of the Guernsey Way. Loyal servant to the true flame of the human spirit that lives in us all and I come back to you now at the turning of the tide. A legend of the ages. In new form.
I have come to show Guernsey the Way.
I have waited in my pages for generations, watching the world change, observing new legends emerge but the time was never right. You haven’t needed me, but now the waters have changed, the wind has shifted. We all feel it, but we can’t find the words.
Dave from Accounts saw me one day, and we struck up a conversation, we got to know each other. He saw my qualities, put the pieces together, and understood that I still had more to offer the world. He kindly offered to give me a second life, even at personal cost to himself, borrowing his identity, and allowing me to take physical form again, well to the minds of my dearest readers at least. I gratefully accepted his kindness. So here we are.
I wanted to live once again in the minds of the island and attempt to recover that treasured prize of strength and endurance from the unfathomable depths. Who better to navigate these uncertain waters, than someone like me who knows the very features of the bedrock that mark the Abyss.
It was a challenge that only I, Gilliat, had the wits and resilience to deliver. I wanted to recreate that story arc which, spoiler alert, culminates in me selflessly leaving an empty seat.
The narrative: 160 years on from Victor Hugo’s tribute to Guernsey, Gilliat has authored a tribute to Victor Hugo to precisely mirror his.
A twin tribute in correspondence.
However sadly my campaign was to be repelled. The octopus has grown stronger than our previous encounter. I was outmatched and could not achieve the end I desired in this, the sequel. The loophole was closed and now I am trapped.
Sublime characters are stubborn.
I do have unfinished business though, my fate is now tied to this campaign, and I will remain trapped here until my objective is achieved. From your perspective I appear only as a spectral literary persona, however I assure you I am very real and I have only one reason for being.
160 years ago Victor Hugo wrote Toilers of the Sea in tribute to Guernsey. I was born from his mind then, he was my creator. In that work my origins were quite unclear; brought to Guernsey as a small boy with my mother, a single parent, but I can reveal this now…
Victor Hugo, he was my father,
And I, Gilliat, am the heir to his flame.
It is my ambition to follow in my father’s footsteps, to project his flame forward. I want to be worthy of his name and so I have run this entire campaign in tribute to him and to honour his legacy and continue in his spirit, even if contemporary values and priorities fail to recognize it.
We stand on the shoulders of those who have come before us, our achievements do not belong to us. We are simply stewards of their legacy. We are custodians of the flame of the human spirit, and we have a duty to care for it and keep it in constant renewal so that we might pass it on to those who have yet to come. It is how humanity progresses, it is the way.
My father was elected as a Deputy in his lifetime (in France), and therefore it was only right that I, Gilliat, would also run a political campaign to attempt to become a Deputy. Something completely different, yes, but I knew I had his blessing nonetheless, although it was ultimately to be denied and I was unable to take my place on the ballot paper.
Nevertheless, I have a dream that one day Gilliat, a literary character, will be a candidate in a Guernsey election and Guernsey will have the opportunity to truly vote for me. They will cry:
Free Deputy Gilliat!!!
One day I will be elected as a Deputy, to take up my seat, but it will only be in spirit. I will take my seat upon the Gild Holm’Ur chair once again and then I shall go gently into that dark light, into the west.
The vacant seat will be Gilliat’s seat, physically with no occupant, but occupied in the spirit of the Guernsey Way on behalf of all islanders, the one true People’s Duty!
Everything limits man but nothing stops him.
So there it is, the campaign as it was.
It has been documented in the public domain every step of the way, and so it has been done, so believe in the evidence of your eyes and ears. It is written for those who apply their minds and recognize the truth when they see it.
In this world, which is so plainly the antechamber of another, there are no happy men. The true division of humanity is between those who live in light and those who live in darkness. Our aim must be to diminish the number of the latter and increase the number of the former.
I have now had my brief moment in the sunlight, liberation at last, but the octopus was quick to close me down.
Gilliat’s time on this stage has now expired. Out, brief candle. I have said too much, stayed out too long. The devil fish keeps me now. It watches, it waits. I must take my leave.
Fare thee well.
A la perchoine and Best Regards,
Deputy Gilliat!!!
Fief St Michel, Vale