One symbol that is prevalent throughout The Handmaid's Tale is mirrors. The Commander's house is completely devoid of mirrors, except for one near the stairs which is "round, convex, a pier glass, like the eye of a fish" (Atwood 9). Offred sees herself in the mirror as a fragment of herself, as the mirror's distortive properties prevent her from seeing herself clearly. Conversely, at Jezebel's, the mirror remains, since the women "need to know what they look like" (241). The mirrors thus can be seen as projections of individuality. The Handmaids, who are stripped of their personality, appearance, and dignity, are unable to do something as simple as view themselves in a mirror. They are denied the ability to see themselves clearly, and are robbed of their individuality. The one mirror that does hang in the Commander's house not only removes Offred's appearance, but replaces it with one that is without shape. Jezebel's, however, allows for more freedom and individuality, but also shows the "workers" what they have been reduced to. Atwood uses mirrors in criticism of both the oppression of women (as seen with the Handmaids) and their oversexualization (seen in Jezebel's). Mirrors contribute to the theme in this way--by being representative of shattered individualism.
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One particularly notable passage in The Handmaid's Tale occurs in Chapter 24:
What I need is perspective. The illusion of depth, created by a frame, the arrangement of shapes on a flat surface. Perspective is necessary. Otherwise there are only two dimensions. Otherwise you live with your face squashed against a wall, everything a huge foreground, of details, close-ups, hairs, the weave of the bedsheet, the molecules of the face. Your own skin like a map, a diagram of futility, crisscrossed with tiny roads that lead nowhere. Otherwise you live in the moment. Which is not where I want to be.
But that's where I am, there's no escaping it. Time's a trap, I'm caught in it. I must forget about my secret name and all ways back. My name is Offred now, and here is where I live.
Live in the present, make the most of it, it's all you've got.
Time to take stock.
I am thirty-three years old. I have brown hair. I stand five seven without shoes. I have trouble remembering what I used lo look like. I have viable ovaries. I have one more chance.
But something has changed, now, tonight. Circumstances have altered.
I can ask for something. Probably not much; but something. (143-144)
Offred finally describes herself almost halfway through the book. It is here where it seems as though she finally stops resisting the pressures of Gilead, but in reality, as the last few sentences show, she is in fact stronger than ever. She also notes that, since she is still fertile, she is not without hope. It is interesting, though, to note that Offred refers to perspective as "the illusion of depth," as though it does not exist. It seems that though Offred does want to carefully plan out her future and analyze her past, she cannot. However, now that she has gained favor with the Commander, she can use both her body and her mind to, possibly, escape her torment. While she once had but once chance, now, it seems, that she has several more should she make the correct choices. If all goes well for her, she may just find
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The Handmaid's Tale, though not perfect, certainly accomplished what it set out to do. Atwood intended to write a novel criticizing both organized religion and the oppression and oversexualization of women, and she certainly did. However, there were a few flaws that left the novel slightly lacking. For instance, the ending, though creative in its presentation, seems to be somewhat lacking. Similar to the ending of All Quiet on the Western Front, which abruptly switches to a third-person view in a quick aside, the lecture style in the form of the "Historical Notes" seems as though it was tacked-on last minute. The entire ending could be skipped without any major consequence. Additionally, though some characters had depth and were well-written, others seemed to lack some characterization. Serena Joy, for instance, is painted as a mean old woman who is locked in this unhappy society that she herself helped to create. But beyond that, we hardly see anything else. Admittedly, this can be excused due to Offred's limited knowledge of Gilead's inner workings, but some characters still felt somewhat two-dimensional. The Handmaid's Tale did have some redeeming qualities, though. While other, more American authors might have been more reluctant to create such a graphic novel, Atwood's no-holds-barred approach ultimately illuminates the meaning of the novel in general. And Atwood seamlessly combined the futuristic dystopian feel of Gilead with the archaic and barbaric feel of an ancient theocracy. So while The Handmaid's Tale did have flaws, ultimately, the best parts broke through.
And at any rate, it's still better than the movie.
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| Natasha, I am so, so sorry. |
