Margaret Atwood, whose work has been published in thirty-five countries, is the author of more than forty books of fiction, poetry, and critical essays. In addition to The Handmaid's Tale, her novels include Cat's Eye, shortlisted for the 1989 Booker Prize; Alias Grace, which won the Giller Prize in Canada and the Premio Mondello in Italy; The Blind Assassin, winner of the 2000 Booker Prize; Oryx and Crake, shortlisted for the 2003 Man Booker Prize; The Year of the Flood; MaddAddam; The Heart Goes Last; and Hag-Seed. She is the recipient of the Los Angeles Times Innovator's Award and lives in Toronto with the writer Graeme Gibson. You can learn more at www.margaretatwood.ca.
In Margaret Atwood's dystopian future, environmental disasters and declining birthrates have led to a Second American Civil War. The result is the rise of the Republic of Gilead, a totalitarian regime that enforces rigid social roles and enslaves the few remaining fertile women. Offred is one of these, a Handmaid bound to produce children for one of Gilead's Commanders. Deprived of her husband, her child, her freedom, and even her own name, Offred clings to her memories and her will to survive. At once a scathing satire, an ominous warning, and a tour de force of narrative suspense, The Handmaid's Tale is a modern classic.
I work on staff of a speculative fiction magazine that uses our definition of speculative literature right from Margaret Atwood, and I have been waiting for the perfect time to engage with one of her works. Having read the introduction, and also knowing her definition for speculative fiction, I was immediately drawn into Offred's world. What struck me is how hazy it is, and yet the clear attention to detail. What I mean by that is, Offred's depiction of the past seems a bit hazy—we know she doesn't like thinking about the past, and also everything that happened occurred a while ago, creating a sense of distortion. And yet, the details about the past are very striking, and stand out in my mind when thinking about different elements of the novel. The exact same is true for Offred's depiction of the present day. Because she is in such a privileged position, we get to intimately know the ins-and-outs of this new culture of Handmaids, Wives, Aunts, and more—and yet, because Offred doesn't have reliable access to the news, we are still hazy on the specifics of what led them there in the first place. The ability to balance between these specifics and the vagueness of the time is what allows this novel to remain startlingly timeless.
Another element of this novel's construction was how it was told in these, for lack of a better word, snippets. Offred is offering us her commentary on everything that's going on around her, but she doesn't go in order, and oftentimes she intersperses present day happenings with musings and philosophical thought. The way the story is chopped up between past moments and present actions, along with descriptions of the world and Offred's musings, all works well together to create suspense. It also maintains the illusion of Offred telling readers the stories herself, whether that be with her voice or with her pen. In my edition, we see that Offred's story is constructed by her cassette tape recordings—the novel reads exactly as if Offred was telling a close friend an account of her life with the Commander and his wife. This function extremely well, because not only does it make such a harrowing story more easily digestible (in the sense that it can be read quickly and thoroughly), but also because it works to create this sense of urgency about the themes.
I am endlessly fascinated by how the female relationships are structured throughout this book, and also how little I know about the men involved in Offred's story. In both, it makes one realize just how important the characters are in this world. One would think that the world building in paramount, and it absolutely is, but once you reach that threshold, one really starts to think about the characters in this world, and how they reflect or deviate from what we'd expect. In many ways, Atwood's worlds and characters act exactly as how one would think they would, especially the women, because they're living in a world designing to tear them down. I also love for how each of these statements, I feel questions brimming, but no answers. I would have to read the novel again to uncover more clarity, and even then I feel like I'd find myself with even more questions. To me, that is a sign of a well constructed, timeless, and meaningful novel.
All of this to say that we need banned books, and we need to read banned books! With everything that's going on, it's easy to see that books should be the least of anyone's worries, but I've always found power in what I'm reading, and how I'm reading it. So, I urge everyone to read a banned book or two before the year is up. If anyone wants to talk opinions about why I think this is especially important, feel free to leave a comment or text me if you know me! I think more people should be talking about this, and then going off and fighting by reading!
Of course my interest was piqued when hearing that publishers are attempting to create a literal inflammable version of this book, so I have to say that I will definitely be engaging with this story and Margaret Atwood more closely in the future! You can learn more at www.margaretatwood.ca.
*This review can also be found on my Goodreads page*
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