[Day] Review #8: The Handmaid's Tale

Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale is in many ways one of my favorite novels. I have seen the movie, and from what I remember, it wasn't bad, but it could not capture the voice and tone of the novel, primarily I think because of the way Atwood tells the story.

To quote from the Wikipedia article:

The Handmaid's Tale is a feminist dystopian novel, a work of science fiction or speculative fiction . . . . Set in the near future, in a totalitarian theocracy which has overthrown the United States government, The Handmaid's Tale explores themes of women in subjugation and the various means by which they gain agency.

I was probably about 12 when I first read The Handmaid's Tale. Perhaps a bit young for the themes in some ways, but I understood the fear and the sense of loss of family and comfort and way of life. What captivated me then, and what still captivates me now, is the structure of the story and the way Atwood creates her sentences. The story is told in fragmented chunks, as the protagonist remembers things. It all weaves together into bits of the Handmaid's history prior to Gilead (the new name under the new regime), elements of her training/re-education, and life under the Commander and his Wife.

The nature of the language is what makes it all seem so real. Offred (the Handmaid's new name) is telling her story to whomever may be listening. She knows that it could be an imaginary person, or no one at all, but she has to talk, for her own sanity, if nothing else. In an almost desperate, pleading tone of voice she tells of her life. She needs it to make sense for herself, and she's pleading that her actions will make sense--and be excused--by others. She occasionally makes things up to make it more...palatable...for herself, but will correct herself immediately. Sometimes she doesn't know all the facts, but can piece together a reconstruction from what she does know.

What makes The Handmaid's Tale so terrifying is the ease in which the new regime takes over. It was published in 1985, and in some ways the technology is dated, but in other ways Atwood made the descriptions vague enough that it could pass for the present. By taking over the technologies (banking, employment records, marriage records, etc.), the regime fairly easily slides into place. It's by no means bloodless, but it is effective. While this is not perhaps the central theme of the novel, it certainly serves as a warning to being overly dependent on certain types of technology.

It is a depressing novel, but there is also a sense of hope to it. The indomitable strength of the human spirit and such. Really, I've just run out of things to say. My brain can't get into gear today.