As
a feminist, I enjoy literature about women; I find the ways in which women are
depicted through language to be fascinating. For my Gender in Literature and
Film class, I was assigned to read Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale. Upon my first reading of the book, I was
outraged. The main character was passive, ignorant, and in no way working to
change or remove herself from her oppressive situation. It wasn’t until I
discussed the writing with my professor and classmates that I realized I had
made a terrible mistake.
In
her dystopian novel, Margaret Atwood paints a picture of life for women that
might not be completely impossible. Atwood uses extreme religion to create a
world where women are seen solely as reproductive machines. The women in the
Republic of Gilead are stay-at-home wives and mothers, servants, surrogates,
prostitutes, or unwomen—women who are unable to conceive, and as they are of no
use, are sent off to clean up nuclear waste.
In Gilead, women are entirely stripped of their personal
identities. They are prohibited from using their own names, and instead take on
the names of their Commanders (the older men assigned to impregnate them). The
main character’s name in the novel is Offred, that is, Of Fred. In the attempt
to rid women of their own thoughts and beliefs, they are banned from reading
and using language in any way that does not confirm their traditional religion.
When the handmaids do the shopping for their respective houses, they are guided
solely by images rather than words. Reading and writing are illegal behaviors,
punishable by death. Literacy is suddenly frowned upon; it becomes something
that will become extinct overtime.
In the novel, which is delivered through Offred’s first
person narrative, we learn that Offred only appears
to be a submissive and apathetic character. Yes, she bites her tongue and goes
about her various handmaid duties without resistance, but Offred is also doing
something else: observing. She has memorized everything around her. Finding a
short Latin phrase carved into the floor of her closet is thrilling—even if she
doesn’t understand the meaning. Offred traces the lettering and repeats the
phrase over and over again; she knows that it is a message for her and only
her. A small stool with FAITH stitched
into the cushion is also overlooked by room inspectors and Offred thrives on
the oversight. The protagonist slowly begins to understand that literacy is
powerful.
While it might not be obvious during a leisurely reading
of the book, it can, and should be argued that Offred is empowered by language.
Towards the middle of the book, Offred’s Commander privately summons her to his
room. Expecting some kind of sexual request, Offred is shocked to find that the
Commander only wants the handmaid to play Scrabble with him—an invitation even more
dangerous than Offred’s prediction. The Commander is giving her the opportunity to
familiarize herself with words again. She is suddenly allowed, if not
encouraged, to play with letters and bring new understandings to made-up words—a
kind of creativity that Offred knows could cost her her life. Offred takes
advantage of her time playing Scrabble with the Commander, as she sees it as an
opportunity to further push the limits of her environment. This practice
becomes a sort of game for her—a game that she feeds off of. She is not only driven
by the words, she is now playing with them simply to see just how far she can
go without getting caught.
Through these slightly rebellious
actions, Offred is able to overcome her environment. Her quiet study and
observation proves to be more valuable than an outward attack on Gilead. The
book ends with Offred getting into an unknown black van and leaving her house,
but Atwood leaves the audience guessing if the van is driven by an ally or a
villain, arguably because it ends up being less than detrimental to the meaning
of the overall story.
This book, if nothing else, stresses
the importance and undeniable value of literacy. It argues that in an oppressive
world, women still have the ability to use their words to make a difference. To
me, a female writer, this message is invaluable, if not precious. In a twisted
and scary way, Atwood’s novel serves as a letter of encouragement to women. She
is telling females to continue the fight in a male-dominated society through
literacy and intelligence, which is truly inspiring.
Atwood, Margaret. The Handmaid’s Tale. New York: Anchor Books, 1998. Print.
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