#169. "The Handmaid's Tale" by Margaret Atwood

For generations now, Margaret Atwood's seminal novel "The Handmaid's Tale" has been considered haunting less because of what it says but more what it predicts. In a dystopian future, women have become second-class citizens and are forced to wear restrictive clothing as their homelife becomes a prison. The inability to express oneself outside the maternal roles has resonated with many who find the subtext to be more than allusions. Given her history of feminist criticism, Atwood's most popular work remains vital. The darkness is sure to cause a goosebump or two. Even then, it's not without some levity as characters find humor in their increasingly mundane lives, doing everything to stave off insanity. The results are a powerful cautionary story that encourages the reader to be aware of the world around them, questioning whether the slow decline into oppression can be attributed to their neutrality or if the collective system was always a bit hopeless to a few evil powers.
As a protagonist, Offred is a fascinating entry point into this world. Like most women in the novel, she has a tragic back story that unfolds over several chapters. The promises of a happy life have faded, though Atwood's ability to tease everything slowly keeps it from being front-loaded with exposition. Instead it arrives just in time for certain motivations to come forth. It also keeps the darkness from fully reaching its disturbing potential as gradual connecting of the dots forces the reader to determine a larger emotional separation. It's to the author's credit that she does it while Offred and company wander their environment, trying to not get caught in the ridiculous cycles of repetition. Even when something is familiar in the text, Atwood never feels meandering.

Another talent can be found in the world building. For as simple as the concept is in theory, she manages to create a hierarchy that favors masculinity and withholding order. The few willing to perform sinister deeds for their approval receive approval. Even if men are largely the antagonists of the piece, it's to Atwood's credit that this world is complex, based on nefarious dealings that reflect a lack of trust among its characters. Even in a third act that packs a punch as it shifts from immobility to activism, there is a perfect uncertainty that underlies Offred's personal journey. The fight or flight text becomes more appealing because there's nothing left to lose. If they win, freedom is on the other side. If not, death is better than life. The paradoxical gambit is what makes everything come together in one of fiction's fines conclusions of the 20th century.

 

While there have been many texts that have explored oppression in a dystopian setting, few have resonated as well as "The Handmaid's Tale." This is not because it has the buzziest setting or even the most clever spin. Instead, it's the familiarity that is sure to get under readers' skins and cause them to reflect on what they're doing to keep this from becoming a reality. It's a text full of disturbing abuse and moments that encourage one to wonder why nobody thought to act up earlier. It's in the standing aside that the damage begins to be done. For close to half a century now, Atwood has encouraged readers to "do something." The irony of everything is that not enough has done to keep this from possessing contemplative dread.