Book #1 - The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood

[Dee]

Offred’s character was disturbing to me in that she was an everyday woman. I could be her. She was living her life and making her way. Tough, but seemingly not tough like Moira. In practice, perhaps she was stronger and more metered in her approach, biding time and waiting for options. Who knows? That she was involved with a married man was not penned by mistake. The author wants this little factoid to tarry in our heads and bids us to judge or not. These people were a reduction. How do I live to see another day?

I think these are all crucial in the characterisation. Offred is not particularly heroic. What she does is clearly what most of us would have done in her situation. Try to save her family and herself. Having lost her family, trying to save herself. Biding her time, doing whatever she needed to do not to get herself killed or tortured. Always calculating her best odds for survival. Holding onto hope that she would see her daughter and husband again. In dark moments contemplating suicide but not taking any real steps to do it. Finding tiny morsels of good things (mostly memories and fantasies) to keep herself going. Rebelling a little, but keeping it in check. Craving human contact and affection. Letting her guard down when someone shows a little kindness.

Offred is not particularly brave, neither is she a coward. She's smart enough, but not exactly ahead of the game. She can be caring but she's also looking out for herself. She's so middle ground that it's incredibly easy to identify with her, but also to distance ourselves somewhat.

I agree, that the fact she started her relationship with Luke whilst he was married, that's not written by accident, neither it is an oversight that we are not told anything more about the circumstances.

Most women would naturally judge a woman who goes after a married man. Even liberal Moira was judging her friend for not staying clear. I think she said something along the lines, you can't help who you fall in love with, but can help your actions. But of course we were not told any details about this affair. Perhaps Luke was desperately unhappy. Perhaps his wife had cheated on him first. Perhaps it was Luke who pursued Offred...

Spoiler:

How annoying and annoyingly clever is that we don't know her real name? Though people deduced from the whispered list of names from the gymnasium scene that her name was the last in the list: June.

“We learned to whisper almost without sound. In the semi-darkness we could stretch out our arms, when the Aunts weren’t looking, and touch each other’s hands across space. We learned to lip-read, our heads flat on the beds, turned sideways, watching each other’s mouths. In this way we exchanged names, from bed to bed:
Alma. Janine. Dolores. Moira. June.”

And in the tv series she is in fact called June. Margaret Atwood apparently said that wasn't her intention with the list but the interpretation worked, so it was ok with her.)

Anyway, it's a clever twist to write her as someone who was at the least instrumental in the break up of Luke's first marriage. It just makes the reader realise how easy it is to judge. Knowing practically nothing about these people, and the judgement is already sizzling away.

This is a huge problem with relentlessly inforced black and white law, how to deal with theft, assault, murder, adultery, abortion... there are always circumstances to consider. Life is never black and white.

I think Offred's situation is doubly interesting, because of this untold backstory, and her status which is due to her marriage declared as non void by the new state of Gilead. In other words, she "deserves" her new status as a Handsmaid. Just like Janine was made to accept responsibility for being raped.

[Lori]

In reading your words above, it highlights that these judgments and perceptions in the book are grotesque magnifications of what we whisper under our breath to ourselves and others. Old voices we cannot silence and are working diligently to do so.

It is interesting that Offred is basically written as an unfinished canvas on which the reader can write. There is just enough left to the imagination to do so. Then, it turns on its head and serves to point out preconceptions, etc.

Offred is not particularly brave, neither is she a coward. She's smart enough, but not exactly ahead of the game. She can be caring but she's also looking out for herself. She's so middle ground that it's incredibly easy to identify with her, but also to distance ourselves somewhat.

Exactly. We experienced distance and had to pull our minds and hearts back, wanting the best for her but also being weary of her situation. Do something. Do anything. But, exactly what we would we do in her situation?

Group think is so dangerous. People will do in groups what they would never do individually. It is easier to shrug off that 'wee small voice' proclaiming that we have to rise above and not use a broad brush to diminish or define people. Group tit for tat. Group circular thought process and prejudices. As a people, we get exhausted - particularly with the amount of information out there and the truth hovering somewhere nearly unreachable - and we nod our heads and our eyes glaze over. Tyrants and terrorists count on group think. The Gileads took advantage of that Achilles tendon in our makeup. This came to a head four times a year when they allowed women to take out their frustration on a man, literally ripping him limb from limb. Apparently, unbeknownst to the women, it usually involved a man from the resistance. How ironic. How appropriate.

Yet, group think is necessary. We need it to overcome. We need it to accomplish. We need it to educate. It is a wild beast, left unchecked.

[Dee]

It really is fascinating how this "group think" was used to the system's advantage, like you said, with the women's salvaging events, but also the birthing Gatherings, which is probably the most positive use of a group literally breathing together. Only group think is allowed in this society. You identify yourself with your status, with your function in this society and you play your part WITHOUT THINKING about is as an individual. You are not an individual. You are simply a jigsaw puzzle in a picture made up of identical pieces, upside down. Nobody ever gets to see the actual picture. The point is not the picture. The point is the mechanical need to fix the pieces together.

Survival without pleasure.

[Dee]

Moira seemed to provide a touchstone just at those moments when Offred needed one. Her memories of Moira were as potent and balming as Moira in person. Offred was able to watch Moira make choices that she herself did not dare, and then observe the consequences of such actions. When we last saw Moira, her circumstances were not pretty. She had four years max of physical stamina before the next phase would occur – most likely the Colonies. Her tale of near escape spoke of hope, as there were those resisting and helping, but also of defeat. I believe Offred saw Moira as stronger than herself and therefore the fact Moira did not make it out probably convinced Offred that she herself certainly would not.

I agree with most this, except for your assessment of Moira's situation in the brothel. I think what that place is for Moira is the next station from where she can hopefully get out when the opportunity arises. And who knows what might happen in the few years whilst she could hold onto her position there.

[Dee]

I like how you described the Commander's motivations similar to looking after a pet. One died, so there is a new one. Trying to be nice to the pet if and when it suits him. And because that makes him feel better about keeping the pet caged up most of the time.

It was one of the cruellest things in the book for me. On one hand it seems like he'd want to reward Offred with little freedoms and allowing her to express herself, but he drew the line firmly by not addressing her by her real name. He was doing his kind things not to June, but to Offred: to his current Handmaid, whoever that might be at the time. Even in his rewards he has done nothing but reinforce that June is stripped of her personality, her agency, her real self. A pet indeed. Like a work horse getting a lump of sugar on occasion.

[Dee]

I'm still undecided how I feel about the historical notes. I should probably read them again. My first reaction was resentment. I was hoping to get more closure, update, etc on the story, instead of a history lecture. But I guess we got that, after all, albeit in an unexpected format. We know June survived, at least long enough to record her story, so she must have been in a safe environment to do that, as she could be honest, and she was still hopeful about seeing Luke and her daughter again throughout her story. So she probably got out with the Mayday people, and Nick was helping her. And her story from here onwards is left wide open.

It's not a frustrating finish to the book though. Because the book showed us the increasing number of cracks in this unsustainable state, and showed us there was actually a place where the resistance could harbour people. The story finishes on a hopeful note that this horrific society could be destroyed, and steps have already been taken. June might become a reluctant revolutionary, not unlike Katniss in the Hunger Games.

The fact the book is finished with June's escape from the Commander's household, most likely pregnant with Nick's baby, under the protection of the resistance... gives the tv show writers all the freedom in the world to weave the story in Season 2.

[Dee]

Regarding the statement in point 8: I thought it was very unfair, and I agreed with all your arguments, Lori. She had no expectations to be saved by anyone in particular but generally hoped for some way out would become available to her one day. This she had to believe in order to keep going for the sake of her daughter. She was biding her time. She had to take some risks with people, it was impossible not to. She didn't just helplessly throw herself at Nick. She found some connection and intimacy with him that allowed her to be herself again, feel alive and wanted. That's what she was holding onto, not to a knight coming to her rescue in shining armour.

[Dee]

I've very much enjoyed your choices of favourite parts, the description of the garden, all laiden with sensuality and metaphors.

The scene where Offred reflects upon the photograph... I think there is no mother who could read that without tears. The words cut way too deep.

[Lori]

Yes to the above. I also like your take on Moira's future. That is a hopeful one.

Regarding the Commander, there is a passage in the book that seems very integral to the message. It is one of the only emphatic statements Offred makes. It is a summation of her attempt at her story and, importantly it seems, a commentary on forgiveness:

("When I get out of here, if I am able to set this down, in any form, even in the form of one voice to another, it will be a reconstruction then too, at yet another remove. It's impossible to say a thing exactly the way it was, because what you say can never be exact, you always have to leave something out, there are too many parts, sides, crosscurrents, nuances; too many gestures, which could mean this or that, too many shapes which can never be fully described, too many flavors, in the air or on the tongue, half-colors, too many.")

"But if you happen to be a man, sometime in the future, and you've made it this far, please remember: you will never be subjected to the temptation or feeling you must forgive, a man, as a woman. It's difficult to resist, believe me. But remember that forgiveness too is a power. To beg for it is a power, and to withhold or bestow it is a power, perhaps the greatest."

What does this mean to you?

(I also like that she says "When I get out of here" rather than "If I get out of here". Is that a bone or clue as to the outcome thrown from the author?)

[Lori]

I like how you described the Commander's motivations similar to looking after a pet. One died, so there is a new one. Trying to be nice to the pet if and when it suits him. And because that makes him feel better about keeping the pet caged up most of the time.

It was one of the cruellest things in the book for me. On one hand it seems like he'd want to reward Offred with little freedoms and allowing her to express herself, but he drew the line firmly by not addressing her by her real name. He was doing his kind things not to June, but to Offred: to his current Handmaid, whoever that might be at the time. Even in his rewards he has done nothing but reinforce that June is stripped of her personality, her agency, her real self. A pet indeed. Like a work horse getting a lump of sugar on occasion.

It was also incredibly cruel to me. However, her expectations were so diminished, she apparently did not feel the sting as we did on her behalf.

"But even so, and stupidly enough. I'm happier than I was before. It's something to do, for one thing. Something to fill the time, at night, instead of sitting alone in my room. It's something else to think about. I don't love the Commander or anything like it, but he's of interest to me, he occupies space, he is more than a shadow. And I for him. To him I'm no longer merely a usable body. To him I'm not just a boat with no cargo, a chalice with no wine in it, an oven - to be crude - minus the bun. To him I am not merely empty."

I maintain had she been given more time in this role, it would have taken on the sharp edges and become the joke it truly was. That Offred was nourished by this thin soup further illustrates the depths to which her spirit had sunk. I cannot blame her for enjoying some color in her world, even though it was incredibly garish and she knew no good could ultimately come from it.

[Dee]

I think the ability to forgive is something very unique to Offred, and she gains a lot of strength from that. She uses empathy to ease her negative feelings. Occasionally her emotions get the better of her and has violent thoughts, towards Serena, herself even. But on the whole she keeps it together by trying and succeeding to understand everyone's motivations around her, and see that people don't necessarily mean to hurt her, even if their actions do. She instinctively has arrived to a place where she can free herself of hatred boiling away in her blood making her feel even worse about her situation. She knows this ability is her strength but also sees it as a weakness: a way of giving in and accepting her fate without fighting against it in an obvious way.

[Dee]

The cruelty of the situation with the Commander is strange, because he is not at all cruel to Offred. In fact he tries and mostly succeeds to be super nice to her. Even if he does it for selfish reasons and to ease his own conscience, his mission is to make Offred's life a little better with some luxuries (hand cream) and returned freedoms (reading, playing games, going out) and he does. Despite putting her life in jeopardy, he tries to make her life better. The cruel part is how this exchange is still void of real emotions, how it lacks personal connection. That's why I liked your analogy, that she is treated like a pet. A pet in general, not a unique one with a name. Offred is not "Sooty", she's not "the cat", she's just "a cat".