Saturday, March 16, 2019

A Variety of Endings

In class we discussed whether or not we were satisfied with The Handmaid’s Tale ending and if we thought the historical notes were a good addition. I liked the final section, as it gave us hope for Gilead to fall and it closely resembled how we discuss similar real-life tragedies—somewhat coldly, but also informatively. Not as personally affecting as the emotional personal recount, but it filled in some informational gaps. Then again, it did take away from the narrative by dulling the ambiguity that Offred left us as the end of her story. The addition made it strange to have Offred end on the note she did in the first place. That doesn’t mean there wasn’t ambiguity at all—we don’t know Offred’s ultimate fate, for example—but it was a weird structural choice.

I haven’t watched the Hulu series yet (I probably will over break), but from what I understand, it expands on characters and even continues the story, going further than the book did. Does this imply that the characters are going to cause big change within the regime? I didn't think it was important that the characters we meet quickly cause a revolution, so I’m a bit worried that the show could go in that direction. I could be wrong, though.

Margaret Atwood announced a sequel to her novel, called The Testaments, but has given few details besides it being set fifteen years later and there being three narrators. After reading The Handmaid’s Tale, I’m curious about the sequel, but part of me also wonders how necessary it is. Atwood said that on top of readers’ questions about Gilead’s “inner workings,” her “other inspiration is the world we've been living in.” I want to see what else Atwood will have to say about politics and women’s rights, especially since attitudes about certain things may have changed since The Handmaid’s Tale was published. What’s odd is that the new book is even further away in time from the original takeover, further from a world we are more familiar with. How will that allow her to incorporate the problems we are facing now?

So what is the purpose of ending a story a certain way? The ending of Offred’s story is artistic, but the historical notes are informational. The tv show has potential to end in an uncomfortably "Hollywood" fashion, but I’m guessing (and hoping) that it will stick to the tone of the books. Both the show and the sequel are able to explore Gilead’s citizens and their issues more deeply, and put a bit of modern context into things, which is super cool. But I’m still left with questions. What is the purpose of expanding this world? How are we supposed to end these stories, and what do those endings mean to us? Do all of the endings stand alone well and work together well at the same time? Do you have an ending or approach that you favor over the others?

Sunday, March 10, 2019

Faith


Something that I find remarkable about The Handmaid’s Tale is how much detail is packed into the novel. Take, for example, Offred’s room. I know exactly what it looks like: every little detail, from the lack of chandelier to the windows to the ceiling. One of the details that is particularly sticking with me, for whatever reason, is the cushion in Offred’s room that says “Faith”. It seems a bit out of place for many reasons, but it also got me thinking about the role of faith in The Handmaid’s Tale.

Faith, or lack thereof, plays an important role in this new society. People are forced to adhere to a faith that is standardized for the government’s purposes. Household duties, reproductive roles, even speech patterns are dictated by faith. An accusation of being unfaithful can get you punished, even killed. Having a variant of the same faith doesn’t work either, as Offred and Ofglen see on their walks.

The cushion is one of many reminders of the before that seem to have slipped through the cracks when the new regime took power. At a basic level, it is an unnecessary item in a world that seems to value function over anything deemed frivolous (like love and family). It is a word in a room where only women go, reminding Offred of times where women could freely read. It is also something for her to read, to help her remember the language.

Offred assumes that the cushions are Serena Joy’s doing: “I wonder what has become of the other two cushions. There must have been three, once. Hope and Charity, where have they been stowed? Serena Joy has tidy habits. She wouldn’t throw away anything not quite worn out. One for Rita, one for Cora?” (110). It makes sense that Serena would leave the pillow—she’s not fully bought into this new regime, bending rules where she can. And faith would be the most appropriate one to leave, after all, considering this society must have an abundance of faith, particularly the handmaids.

But Offred, and many others, unable to envision a good future in this new society, maintain faith that they will someday get the chance to go back to their old normal.  It’s a faith common to all the Handmaids, as demonstrated by some of their customs: “As long as we do this, butter our skin to keep it soft, we can believe that we will someday get out…” (96). When Offred describes her room and mentions the faith cushion, she often recounts a memory from before, with Luke and her daughter. She describes what could have happened to both of them, prefacing with “Here is what I believe” (104). Rather than buying into the society’s faith, Offred keeps her own faith in the people in her life and the idea that things will somehow go back to normal. She isn’t the only one: much of the household does not think that the society is the best, but they’ve accepted the position that they are in. Serena Joy has merely put the other cushions into storage, not thrown them away.

Going into the end of the book, do we as readers have faith that things are going to change? I don’t know. I don’t doubt that the society could be toppled. However, I hesitate to think that Offred could accomplish a total overthrow by the end of the novel. But I do have a lot of faith in Offred. What else would compel me to read?