Callum Quinn, © 2023
The Handmaid’s Tale
By Margaret Atwood
The (a) story takes place in the Republic of Gilead—a totalitarian monotheocracy in what was once the United States of America. Faced with rising political tensions and a declining birth rate, Gilead’s tyrannical founders violently and forcibly reverted American democracy to a strictly Puritan regime, taking the Book of Genesis at its most literal interpretations. And in the midst of this blatant termination of even the most basic of human rights, we follow the day-to-day experiences of a Handmaid—a fertile woman whose sole purpose in this new “society” is to provide a high-ranking man with children.
We know her only as Offred—because Handmaids are merely the property of a man, and their original name is a forbidden luxury—and it is through her eyes that we see the horrors of a repressive, theocratic government, and the frighteningly realistic measures that were taken to get there.
The (A) story is a commentary on a broad spectrum of societal dangers. Contextually, these particular dangers are ones that lead to, and maintain a structure of, patriarchal and/or religious totalitarianism. But stripped to the bare bones, The Handmaid’s Tale is a cautionary example of the most extreme-case scenarios when it comes to (what is appearing more and more to be) the frighteningly easy fall of democracy.
We can see these dangerous foundations being laid in Offred’s world through the militant organization of extremist groups, who she recalls seeing overhanging her nervous boss on the day she and the rest of the women at the library lost their jobs. We also see it through the control of funds, as when she discovered that her money card was declared invalid. These related instances in turn demonstrate an even greater issue: without a job, without funds, escape is more difficult to achieve, even as democracy loudly and visibly crumbles around you.
Gilead also maintains the subjugation of its citizens through the usage of language and titles that are meant to “other” people, as well as designate positions of power or submission, such as “Commanders,” “Jezebels,” and “Unwomen.” In a similar vein, Handmaids are especially subjected to hurtful and often contradictory language which demonstrates the trappings of control. On the one hand, they are “precious resources” that provide Gilead society with children; behind their backs, they are “little whores” for having sex with the Commanders—and yet, they cannot possibly be one thing without the other.
On that subject, it is very clear within the context of the book that Gilead serves as a metaphor for the patriarchy in general, and through it the story frequently comments on the ridiculous double standards that are placed on women. In one instance, we are recounted a story that took place even before Gilead in which women were chased out of a school by the men in attendance. Yet, while education has been consistently gatekept by men throughout history, and especially in the Republic of Gilead, women are often considered the less intelligent gender, as if they are just born that way. It is also emphasized later in the book the traditional Christian belief of how Eve was “deceived,” and must therefore bear the punishment of childbirth—but, as in reality, no one in Gilead bothers to point out how Adam was just a dumbass who couldn’t think for himself and therefore followed the crowd; i.e.: if we’re blaming all women for the actions of one, why aren’t all men just dumbasses who would do absolutely anything for a pretty face? (Because: in a society controlled by men, men can do no wrong, as is further demonstrated by the fact that if a Handmaid fails to conceive, it’s her fault, because no Commander could ever possibly be sterile.)
However, the book also makes it a point to emphasize how patriarchal societies affect men, as well. Not only are men as well as women forcibly forbidden from self-pleasure in Gilead, but men are especially prone to emotional neglect. We see this through the character of the Commander, who to all intents and purposes seems to be rewarded by the new system—but also seems sad, lonely, and desperate for love, as indicated by his attentions toward Offred.
Another recurring theme in this book could be that there is a fine line between freedom and order. As part of their brainwashing techniques, leaders and upper classes of Gilead repeatedly point out how citizens (particularly women) are much safer in the new regime than they would be otherwise. And while it is true, to an extent, we as an audience can see the great cost this “safety” demanded—and that cost was individuality, choice, joy, friendship, and, as Offred points out, love.
Honestly, there is so much to unpack within this story that I fear I would need to turn it into a ten-page essay just to cover everything, so I’ll stop it there. The biggest point I’d like to get across is how scarily familiar a lot of this feels, but on a smaller scale. I had this book on my shelf for several years before I finally worked up the courage to read it; as much as I wanted to know what was going on within its pages, I also knew it would be hard to read about what is essentially the sexual enslavement of women.
But then I would turn on the news and hear about my country heading in that direction, anyway. So, I figured at least with The Handmaid’s Tale it was my choice to experience it.
What’s scary, as well as important, about this book is that it brings to light just how easy it actually would be for democracy to fall. All it would take is the armed organization of aggressive, bigoted people; the monopolizing of power and money, and the gatekeeping of education. (But, of course, we’ve seen none of that happening in America, right?)
As you would expect from any classic work of literature, The Handmaid’s Tale was well written and deeply thought-provoking, as well as painful in all the ways it intended to be. If I have to complain about anything, I would say the language sometimes gets eye-rollingly purple—but I can also understand why it works, given the context of a character who has no other choice but to live in her own head all the time (though it does bring me back to my conclusion on writing advice).
If you want to be even more freaked out about the state of the world, this is the book to read. As a reader who has a passion for classics and books that have been banned and/or challenged, I would highly recommend it. But I would also caution you: it’s a tough read.
