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Altiplano: Don’t Miss Out On Amazing Peruvian Cyberpunk

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Altiplano isn’t just yet another indie comics request, it’s a milestone. This series has Peruvian origins, a country I don’t have comic intel on. That’s probably why the creator Gustaffo Vargas self-publishes this series via Kickstarter after honing his talents in the UK. This series has five parts: the main chapters of MANU, PUNO, PILCUYO and the one-shots prequels L1MA and TRUJILLO. This cyberpunk series distinguishes itself from the likes of… Cyberpunk 2077 by focusing on the Peruvian setting.

Altiplano: Peruvian Connection

Altiplano has some of the usual cyberpunk tropes, a loner with a gang connection, corrupt politicians and conglomerates, and lots of cyborgs. But most of the cyborgs are animals; monkeys, birds, and jaguars.

Here’s the first chapter and I guess the prologues

But what makes this series stand out is a sense of disconnection. It’s something the reader notices in a lot of the characters. For example, the protagonist Lila keeps everyone in her life at a distance after a stock trauma. In her gang days, her best friend Limón got involved in a conglomerated conspiracy. It caused Limón to change so much, that Lila’s stuck on the tragedy. So she hides out in the Amazon Rain Forest with security cyborg animals.

Unfortunately, this inability to open up puts Lila at odds with her girlfriend Sonia. Sonia wants their relationship to be more than just friends with benefits. But how does someone who cuts herself off from professional help commit to a serious relationship? Look at PUNO and you’ll see her social skills aren’t great either.

Then there’s how the Peruvian government treats its people especially the indigenous populations. With the Japanese conglomerate PAWA making a deal with the Peruvian government to recover their property bound to Limón, they have the power to get away with slaughter. While their political contact doesn’t enjoy PAWA’s “any means necessary” tactics, she’s more concerned about her approval. I mean it’s not going to look good if the press finds out. Of course, PAWA’s bribes to Congress more than makes up for it. As long as there is money to be made there’s little difference between governments, conglomerates, and organized crime.

The Personal Touch

And now it’s time for a Gutternaut-style overestimation from the creator’s own form of disconnect. Take for example when Lila speaks the English slang “arse” instead of “ass” like everyone else. Is this a typo or an artistic license to further Lila’s disconnect with the rest of the world? Did she spend time in England like Vargas did?

Don’t worry, this scene goes somewhere else.

As far as I can tell, Vargas is more of a world builder than a character builder. For artists, designs speak louder than anything else. That’s what I got from Lila’s outfits more than the exposition. Honestly, some of the exposition and flashbacks got a bit confusing. Even then, Vargas put more into the bestiary of cyborg animals than the characters. Look at how Limón made himself into a cyber puma. Not to mention the mercenaries who resemble ancient Peruvian warriors.

Is this a tribute or cultural appropriation on their part?

Altiplano: The Legend of Limón

When you really look at it, Altiplano really revolves around Lila’s friend, Limón. He’s not just some kid who came in at the wrong place and wrong time, he the avatar of Peruvian Cyberpunk. For most of the series he isn’t on screen but he’s what drives the plot forward. Yeah, speaking about Limón like that makes him feel like a commodified MacGuffin. But it’s not just the thematic gimmicks, but the very soul of Cyberpunk that consumes Limón. William Gibson says the Cyberpunk genre is a feeling of comforting surrender to society. Limón experiences that feeling throughout his transformation in the background before one final manifestation. With Limón no longer human and going out on his own terms, he’s at peace with his insignificance.

It’s a sad bit of melancholy, especially since Altiplano was published in times of great anxiety. People will probably connect with Lila in this feeling of helplessness. Some might even outrage in the frustrating implications of evil still being out there. But maybe that’s why cyberpunk can be a difficult genre. There’s comfort in the systemic tragedies that continue to badly affect people and that’s frustrating. But like Lila’s arrested development via Limón, it might be necessary to disconnect.

Altiplano: The Raw Emotion

For all of the time the reader gets with the characters, the emotions Vargas expresses is apparent. The way their faces shift gives the reader an impression of people on their interactions. Like whenever Lila hides her face to avoid Sonia’s gaze, Sonia’s face lights up with detail, anger, and the color red. For all the time the reader didn’t see the relationship that brought them together in the first place, it still feels important.

Part Of A Whole

Altiplano feels emotional but I get a few more attachments to the world than the characters. I feel like there is a good story, especially with how well the art presents events. The inks colors and actions are phenomenal. But it might take a while from to appreciate this and the other Peruvian Cyberpunk comics; they’re all available on the same website. When rereading things with a certain perspective, this series does get better. Readers learn to appreciate a genuine cyberpunk product on surrendering to the inevitable. But they also get a sense of Peruvian disconnection. This series gets 8/10.

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