I read The Handmaid’s Tale and then almost immediately forgot about it. It was an enjoyable read to a degree, but I didn’t find the book profound or the world particularly well-conceptualized. For me, it was more of a fever dream world than a poignant or prophetic dystopian world. It’s not nearly as timeless or eternally relevant and eerie as the dystopian classics 1984 or Brave New World.
The protagonist, Offred, wasn’t well-developed, and I wasn’t interested in her future, which made the book feel low stakes. She was very passive, and I don’t mind a passive protagonist, but this one did not distinguish herself in monologue or insight either. The only character I was interested in was Nick, who was actually an extremely secondary character who was only really featured towards the very end. But all the other characters didn’t carry very much intrigue for me.
As for the writing style, I don’t have any complaints nor do I have any profuse compliments. I did like some lines, like: “How did we learn it, that talent for insatiability?” or “There is more than one kind of freedom. Freedom to and freedom from. In the days of anarchy, it was freedom to. Now you are being given freedom from. Don’t underrate it.” or “Dishtowels are the same as they always were. Sometimes these flashes of normality come at me from the side, like ambushes.” (for some reason, the mundanity of dishtowels struck home).
My main criticism was how fast people seemed to assimilate to this new regime. It happened so fast, and there seemed to be very little protest. Perhaps because most of the protest happened in flashbacks? (I actually think most of the plot happened in flashbacks, because there was little to no plot in Offred’s present.) I didn’t truly feel the devastation or any whiplash besides some token tears and disturbed monologue, despite the protagonist living through the “before,” the revolution, and the “after.” I think Atwood was trying to use the war as the impetus for the deterioration of values and worldview, but was it ever told how the war started or what the war was about? It didn’t seem fully fleshed out. And perhaps it was a commentary on the pointlessness of war, and how many soldiers aren’t sure what they are truly fighting for, but the mindset and purpose of a war has a huge impact on the morale of a country, and fleshing that out would have made at least some difference in the believability of the worldbuilding. Not doing so seems like lazy writing.
There was a lot of commentary on the commodity of a woman’s body. I’m presumptive enough to presume it was beyond the author’s intent. There was the intentional commentary that even in this world where we are not supposed to have sexual desire and there are harsh penalties for casual sex, I’m desperate enough to try to sell my body for freedom and am aware that men will always desire, damn the consequences. Fair enough. But what I didn’t like was how Offred seemed to be narrow-mindedly sex-obsessed and wanted to be carnally desired by every man she met, because she wanted it to be her right as a woman. She would swing her hips for a guard or make prolonged eye contact, flirting within the confines of her ability even though she was supposedly mourning the absence of her husband. She seemed to want to court predatory looks that in our current world, and her previous, I don’t think any woman actually wants. Though perhaps when they are outlawed, we are supposed to perceive them as “appreciative” looks. And at the end, *major spoiler* she seems to care less about absolutely anything, including her own rights and the progress of the revolution that Ofglen tells her about, as long as she can have sex with Nick *end of spoiler*. I think Atwood was trying to convey the late 1900’s view of sexual freedom and a revolt against feminine sexual oppression, but to me, the protagonist seemed to be caught between the regime’s view of her as a sexual commodity and her own view of reducing herself to an object of sexual desire, nothing more. Perhaps this perception would have lessened if the protagonist was in fact less passive or if she were allowed interests outside of her singular role to have sex and produce. And it’s entirely possible I am blowing a few sentences out of proportion. I think what I’m trying to say is that I found it insensitive, selfish, immature, and entirely too much of the juvenile brand of feminism that it seemed like Offred’s main grief was not over her missing child and husband, her lack of rights, her demeaning position and continual, literally systematic rape, but over her enforced lack of enjoyable sex. She, or the narrative, seemed to brush every other anguish aside after a bland, compulsory mention except for her desire of a man’s flesh. At least, that is the only loss she feels compelled to do anything about.
All that being said, while I’ve read many reviews complaining about the writing style or the inadequate worldbuilding, I’ve literally only seen one more person on Goodreads share my opinion that the characters in this book were reduced to one-dimensional sexual frustrations (and I was searching for a shared opinion), so take my takeaway with a grain of salt. And I wasn’t overly angered or annoyed, as I forgot about the book almost immediately after reading and only recalled these unfavorable impressions when writing this review. So, it’s overall not a particularly contentious book in my opinion; I can just find more aspects I disliked than aspects I enjoyed, and I was generally unimpressed.
