This dystopian novel was written by Canadian Margaret Atwood (from Ottawa, born in 1939) back in 1985. The book appeared as a Jeopardy answer last month, and somewhere there was a protest recently with women wearing the outfit of the “handmaid”—a full-length red dress with a white bonnet that hides the face, which according to the author, was based on mid-Victorian practices, as well as what nuns wear (xvii).
The premise of the book is laughable: A right-wing religious group has taken over the United States, now renamed the Republic of Gilead, and is imposing its rigid moral system upon all the inhabitants. In this theocratic dictatorship, women are not allowed to drive, own property, or have any say-so in whom they might marry. Some choose to be handmaids because the alternative will likely mean death within a few years since Unwomen (those who will not or cannot bear children) are exposed to radiation. [This practice might prevent men from desiring to be transgendered souls.]
The novel’s author does not indicate what religious group might have managed to overthrow the entire United States government, but it was not the two largest religious groups, since both Catholics and Baptists are persecuted. The Quakers are friendly and sympathetic to those trying to escape this ungodly system. The oppressors would need to be some gun-toting cult that is using religion as a pretext to accomplish whatever they desire—who are interested in power and control rather than the second greatest commandment: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” None of that is found. Whoever is in charge is practicing a materialistic, Macchievellan religion which knows nothing of righteousness.
In fact, with the way women are treated, the setting for this novel would make more sense if it was set in Mecca. Muslims go more by the Old Testament than the New; hence, making handmaids of women makes more sense for them than it does for Christians. The women would be read to periodically about God telling Adam and Noah to be fruitful and multiply, which was the only function of women in Gilead.
The Commander (the head of the household) would also read about Rachel demanding children, and, when she had none, she gave Jacob her handmaid, Bilhah, that she might bear “upon my knees, that I may also have children by her” (88). The only thing that was mentioned from the New Testament were some beatitudes, which included, Blessed are the poor in spirit, the merciful, the meek, the silent (89). No, that last one is not one of the beatitudes, but no one was allowed to read the Bible; so, the rulers could make up anything they wanted.
This is another reason the story lacks plausibility. The Bible was written to be shared—not kept under lock and key. People have heard of the great commission have they not? One wonders how a tiny “Christian” sect or cult could do so many things in direct opposition to what the Bible teaches—and get away with it without being opposed by every legitimate Christian group—not to mention atheistic and humanistic organizations, also. How did they gain control of a country this large with the news media, universities, and religious people all united against them? Probably, most works of fiction require to some degree a suspension of belief, but in this case the task is too great.
The Author
Atwood is a prolific writer, having written several other novels, short stories, poetry, non-fiction, and books for children. She enjoyed, as a young person, reading other novels in this genre, such as 1984 by George Orwell and Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. The original title to the book was Offred, which is the name of the main character. It does not refer to an off-red color, such as crimson or coral; the name should be viewed as Of-Fred. In this dystopian world, women no longer have feminine names; they are designated by their father. One might also think of her as Offered (as a living sacrifice).
But Atwood changed the title to The Handmaid’s Tale in honor of Geoffrey Chaucer’s The Canterbury Tales. No one can predict whether or not Chaucer would be honored by this gesture. Two huge differences are that Atwood’s Tale is far lengthier than any of those of the pilgrims on the way to Canterbury and Chaucer’s work was written as poetry, which is the reason it took more than a decade to compose and was left unfinished at his death.
She is often asked if the book is intended to be antireligious. She denies the idea, saying that she is only “against the use of religion as a front for tyranny, which is a different thing altogether” (xviii). [Quotes from the book were copyrighted in the1986 edition and published by O. W. Toad. Anchor Books published the edition your congenial editor has (1998). Atwood’s “Introduction” was copyrighted in 2017 by O. W. Toad.]
But is that the case? First of all, she couches her “tale” with Biblical names, such as Lydia, Martha, and the place name, Gilead. Furthermore, she takes issue with Biblical doctrines and morality. One character with a non-Biblical name, Moira, is vulgar and makes perverted comments. She is the one Offred admires the most. No objectively moral position is taken in the book.
The fact is that Margaret Atwood is a doctrinaire agnostic, which means she believes quite passionately that certain things cannot be known and that therefore no one should make a pronouncement about it. Uh, would that include making the pronouncement that one is a doctrinaire agnostic?
Presumably, she would then object to the pronouncement that God is, that Jesus is His Son, that the Bible is the Word of God, and that moral objective truth exists. In other words, she must object to the most fundamental beliefs that are Christian. She also claims not to be a feminist, but an informed guess would be that she is such a feminist that the Bible lost her support when God created Adam first!
She is also in favor of abortion and considers that if the state makes a woman have a baby, it is enforced slavery. One website said she accused the Supreme Court of bringing to life her dystopian story. She claimed the overturning of Roe v. Wade (which was the right decision, since it should never have been made law in the first place) could bring about forced mass sterilizations and bring back a version of the Salem witch trials. Really? Does anyone see fanaticism and hysteria in this outlook?
In The Handmaid’s Tale, abortion is not an issue. Due to toxic elements in the atmosphere, women were becoming less and less fertile; so, the handmaids were women who chose to try to bear children, and it was considered a marvelous thing to do so. Atwood does not think women should be forced or prevented from having children.
But her analysis of the abortion issue is fairly shallow. She does not deal with the science involved. While the rest of us wonder how an actual child—a tiny human—can be removed from his mother’s womb and be killed, she will defend that “right.” But let her own words condemn her. She is writing on another topic, but her words certainly apply to this subject.
Before the country was taken over by religious zealots, Offred had a feminine name (many readers have assigned her the name June), was married, and had a daughter. The time came when this family had to flee from the new authorities; they could not take the family pet with them since they would be on the run, and they could not leave her on her own to starve. If they left her outside, people would notice and wonder where they were. Her husband said he would take care of it.
And because he said it instead of her, I knew he meant kill. That is what you have to do before you kill, I thought. You have to create an it, where none was before. You do that first in your head, and then you make it real. So that’s how they do it, I thought. I seemed never to have known that before (191-92).
This last sentence referred to those who kill the inhabitants of Gilead. The Guards had to make individuals an it so that it would be easier to kill them. She does not realize it, but Atwood has described exactly the way those who favor abortion think toward the child in the womb. They first make the human life there an it, and then they have no qualms killing it. Thanks for the inadvertent explanation on how people stomach abortion, Margaret Atwood.
The Story
The first few chapters tell the story of what life is like in Gilead. It’s fairly drab and gloomy—not much for people like the heroine to look forward to. The highlight of the heroine’s day is taking a walk to go shopping at places like Loaves and Fishes or Milk and Honey. But she is not allowed to go alone; she is met daily by another handmaid from another house, and they go together. Either one may be a spy, for all the other one knows. The woman she meets daily is Ofglen. They have some liberty as to where they may walk. They may decide to go by the wall, where the dead bodies of rebels are on display, or by a place that distributes prayers.
The first few chapters tell the story of what life is like in Gilead. It’s fairly drab and gloomy—not much for people like the heroine to look forward to. The highlight of the heroine’s day is taking a walk to go shopping at places like Loaves and Fishes or Milk and Honey. But she is not allowed to go alone; she is met daily by another handmaid from another house, and they go together. Either one may be a spy, for all the other one knows. The woman she meets daily is Ofglen. They have some liberty as to where they may walk. They may decide to go by the wall, where the dead bodies of rebels are on display, or by a
place that distributes prayers.
Very little breaks up the monotony. Two aunts run the household with the help of some Marthas. Then they have the weekly ceremony where she lays back on the body of the wife while her husband the Commander, tries to impregnate her. They take bearing a child for another very literally. If she has a child, she gives birth somewhat the same way while the other handmaids cheer her on. The term gross comes to mind.
Another slogan purportedly from the Bible concerning the women’s cooperation in all these matters is: From each, according to her ability, to each according to his needs.” No one in the tale seems to be aware that this slogan is an inaccurate paraphrase from Karl Marx (117).
On a given day several young women are married, and all of the marriages are arranged. The mothers give their daughters away. It doesn’t matter if they are happy or not; they will be serving a utilitarian service—bearing children. And they will live in silence, also, never objecting to the system.
Although it is against the rules, the Commander summons (through an intermediary) the heroine to his private quarters in order to—no, don’t even try to guess—wait for it—to play Scrabble. She visits him frequently (his wife is in another part of the house). However, if Offred was caught, she could be put to death. They communicate with each other about various matters; he does her an occasional favor, and then one evening, he takes her out to a club of some kind. She and the other women paint themselves up extensively and look like hookers. Apparently, this serves as an outlet to a straight-laced society. The place is referred to as Jezebel’s.
Meanwhile, the Commander’s wife, who suspects that her husband is impotent, although it would be illegal to say so, offers to hook her up with a young man who serves as the Commander’s chauffeur (so that she might bear a child which everyone would think was the commander’s; apparently, they did not have DNA testing). She and Nick enjoy each other frequently; everyone’s satisfied, and Offred thinks she may be going to have a baby. But the Commander’s wife finds out Offred has been with her husband. Before anything else can happen, Nick (who also works with the resistance) has her whisked away in a van, presumably to the Underground Female-road and safety. Suggestion: Read The Hunger Games.