As regular readers would be aware, I have dubbed 2015 the ‘Year of the Classic’, or YOTC.
I’m trying to read one ‘classic’ per month, as well as at least one book by an Australian female author. I chose ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’ by Margaret Atwood as my January classic—I say January, but I finished it slightly into February, and I haven’t started February’s classic yet. I’m not off to a good start …
I want to read the classics to partly correct my ‘classics deficit’. I feel ignorant when it comes to literature— my uni degree wasn’t English or Literature based, and I’ve barely read a classic since I left school—except for the Great Gatsby, which I’ve read at least half-a-dozen times and still feel as desolate as ever at the ending.
I want to read these works to learn—how to structure a good story and how to write a good sentence. I don’t have the ability or time to examine all of the intricacies of these novels, nor to read as many as I’d like, but I’m hoping that by reading some of them I’ll learn a few things, and some of that will carry over into my own writing.
I chose ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’ as my January classic for a couple of reasons:
1. I feel as if I’m the only person in the world who hasn’t read Margaret Atwood, and she is, I believe, a living legend.
2. I heard her speak a couple of times at the Perth Writers’ Festival in 2013, so I feel as if I know her.
3. My daughter still talks about ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’ from when their class studied it at school.
4. This novel was first published in 1986 and hasn’t been out of print since, so it must be good.
So, I picked up my daughter’s old copy and read.
Brief Synopsis:
The story is told in first person, in the voice of Offred, a handmaid. The handmaids are the fertile women whose role in this society is to bear children for infertile couples, who then raise the baby.
The novel is set in the not-too-distant future in the United States, in a society strictly controlled by a religious regime. When the regime overthrew the government, many of the freedoms its citizens had previously enjoyed were taken from them. Women were no longer permitted to read or write, or hold jobs or have bank accounts. Nor were they permitted sexual freedom. Or to keep their christian names.
Offred and her husband, Luke, attempted to escape with their daughter, but were captured, and Offred was ‘re-educated’ into her role as a handmaid.
The rulers are cruel and the society lives in terror. Crimes, such as criticising the government or sexual infidelity, are punished by public hangings, and the bodies are displayed on a wall for all to see.
There is a resistance, but there are also informants and spies, and no one trusts anyone else.
What I loved about this novel:
1. The story is gripping, unique, and imaginative.
2. The characters are flawed and real and believable. What’s more— you feel for them all being trapped in this cruel and oppressive society.
3. The prose is simple, yet stunning. It’s filled with vivid detail and metaphor, which creates and builds the atmosphere of fear.
‘We sit on our benches, facing one another, as we are transported; we’re without emotion now, almost without feeling, we might be bundles of red cloth. We ache. Each of us holds in her lap a phantom, a ghost baby. What confronts us, now the excitement’s over, is our own failure.’
4. There’s some humour—like the pig-Latin phrase, ‘Nolite te bastardes carborundorum’, which means, ‘Don’t let the bastards grind you down.’
And I laughed out loud at the scene involving the store, ‘Soul Scrolls’—a franchise of shops full of printers spewing out the prayers that the Wives have ordered and paid for:
‘There are five different prayers: for health, wealth, a death, a birth, a sin. You pick the one you want, punch in the number, then punch in your own number so your account will be debited, and punch in the number of times you want the prayer repeated.
The machines talk as they print out the prayers; if you like, you can go inside and listen to them, the toneless metallic voices repeating the same thing over and over.’
5. Most of all, I loved this novel for the truths it illuminated about people and humanity, and about society. For me, this was the most unsettling thing about the story, and also the most gripping. It’s not so far removed from things that have happened, or that are currently happening—the Holocaust, and Communist Russia and China, for example, and currently in Syria, Iraq, Afghanistan.
Just today, I read that David Hicks’ conviction for aiding acts of terrorism has been overturned. This man was incarcerated and tortured for five and a half years in Guantanamo Bay, and he was innocent. For all that time, our Prime Minister turned a blind eye. Why? I suspect he went along with it because he didn’t want to fall out with the most powerful man in the world, the President of the USA.
People in positions of power can abuse that power, and people will stay silent and obedient if they are frightened. In this story, in the end Offred learned to turn a blind eye to cruelty in order to save herself, and as a reader I wanted her to stay silent because I didn’t want her to die …
‘Right in front of us the van pulls up. Two Eyes, in grey suits, leap from the opening double doors at the back. They grab a man who is walking along, a man with a briefcase, an ordinary-looking man, slam him back against the black side of the van. He’s there a moment, splayed out against the metal as if stuck to it; then one of the Eyes moves in on him, does something sharp and brutal that doubles him over, into a limp cloth bundle. They pick him up and heave him into the back of the van like a sack of mail. Then they are inside also and the doors are closed and the van moves on.
It’s over, in seconds, and the traffic on the street resumes as if nothing has happened.
What I feel is relief. It wasn’t me.’
Another poignant thing this novel illustrates is how people in a relative position of power can still be unhappy. The Commander and his wife weren’t happy, even though they were privileged. They’d lost a lot, too, including the normal intimacy that occurs between a husband and wife.
For me, one of the most poignant scenes in the story was when the Commander summoned Offred to his quarters.
‘Hello,’ he says.’ It’s the old form of greeting. I haven’t heard it for a long time, for years. Under the circumstances it seems out of place, comical even, a flip backwards in time, a stunt. I can think of nothing appropriate to say in return.
I think I will cry.’
She doesn’t know what he wants from her:
“I would like—” he says. “This will sound silly.” And he does look embarrassed, sheepish was the word, the way men used to look once. He’s old enough to remember how to look that way, and to remember also how appealing women once found it. The young ones don’t know those tricks. They’ve never had to use them.
“I’d like you to play a game of Scrabble with me,” he says.
The game of Scrabble, a simple board game, has been outlawed because women aren’t permitted to read.
“You know how to play?” he says.
I nod.
We play two games. Larynx, I spell. Valance. Quince. Zygote. I hold the glossy counters with their smooth edges, finger the letters. The feeling is voluptuous. This is freedom, an eyeblink of it. Limp, I spell. Gorge. What a luxury. The counters are like candies, made of peppermint, cool like that. Humbugs, those were called. I would like to put them into my mouth. They would taste also of lime. The letter C. Crisp, slightly acid on the tongue, delicious.’
I found this scene particularly moving as it illustrates how much everyone had lost in this new society.
The book was made into a movie in 1990, starring Natasha Richardson, Faye Dunaway and Robert Duvall. I’ve only seen the trailer, but it doesn’t appear as if Hollywood quite captured the atmosphere of the novel …
Publicity shot for the movie
I’m not sure I want to watch it—it looks a bit 50 Shades-ish …
I think the themes of this novel still ring true and will probably do so forever. A true classic, in my view.
***
I’ve also recently read ‘Mateship With Birds’ by Australian author Carrie Tiffany, and I’ll post my review of that shortly.
I won’t tell you the name of the next book on my classics list, but it’s rather surprising as it’s very different from the usual genres I read. Stay tuned …
As always, your review is beautifully thought out and structured, Louise. Are you sure you never studied literature? Because you could have fooled me!
I found this book quite interesting but I think my favourite Atwood novel is still The Blind Assassin.
Thanks Em! It was a hard reflection to write because the novel has so much in it. In hindsight, I probably should have split it up and written it over a couple of blog posts. Hmmm. I might do that for the next one …
And I have ‘The Blind Assassin’ on the shelves!
Beautifully written review, Louise! I’m not a fan of Margaret Atwood’s writing, but you’ve managed to convince me to chase up The Handmaid’s Tale.
Thanks Marlish, but I’m not sure I’ve done the novel justice—it’s so complex. By the way, I’d love to hear about why you’re not a fan of Atwood’s …
That book is on my long long list of reads x
I think you’d like it, Rae. It’s not your typical speculative fiction novel. It’s very powerful, very human, very sad …
Great review Louise. It’s so long since I’ve read this, I loved the way your review brought it all back. A really powerful novel that I believe, and it seems you’d agree, hasn’t lost any of its validity since it was first published. And that’s a worry. Atwood’s writing is delicious. I haven’t read her last three, but I’ve read 6 or 7 of her novels. My favourites are The handmaid’s tale, The blind assassin (a wonderfully structured book) and Alias Grace (excellent historical fiction). I’ve seen her speak live once, in conversation with Marion Halligan. She has a ferocious intellect. I’m going to enjoy your classic and Aussie women posts this year.
I wonder why Marlish isn’t a fan? If it’s because she’s only read her latest works, I’d suggest she go back to the early ones. They are so varied – contemporary, thrilled, historical, speculative. She covered the lot.
Thanks Sue, and I’m glad I brought back good memories of this novel! I loved it, as you can see, and yes, powerful is the right word for it.
I agree with her ferocious intellect—I saw her in conversation with Jennifer Byrne. She had a dry wit and her conversation was full of humour, but it was almost as if she was gritting her teeth to answer Jennifer’s banal questions!
I think I remember that interview – and yes, your description of her response to Jennifer’s question is perfect!
At least, I think it was broadcast?
Yes, it was broadcast. It was recorded here in Perth at the Writers’ Festival and my daughter and I went to watch. We saw her afterwards, and she’s quite tiny. My daughter got her to sign her copy of ‘The Blind Assassin’.
I might take up your suggestion – whisperinggums – as I did love the Blind Assassin, (my first Margaret Atwood novel), tried to read Oryx and Crake but not my thing at all, and gave up on it. I really struggle with dystopian novels. Mainly because life today is already pretty ugly in many parts of the world—not forgetting the third world conditions our indigenous people live in— and of course we well and truly have climate change upon us, and many other environmental disasters. Maybe that’s why I loved The Blind Assassin; it was historical, set in the past when everything was till seemingly good. Having said that I did enjoy reading The Children of Men by P.D. James. Thought 1984 and Brave New World were brilliant novels. Maybe after decades of being assaulted by gruesome events and news has taken its toll on me? Interesting debate here!
Ah, yes, I wondered if that’s what put you off, Marlish. I haven’t even tried her last three, which I think starts with Oryx and Crake. I’m not averse to dystopian fiction, which is why I liked The handmaid’s tale, but I don’t seek a lot of it out. I know if times are tough, people seek material that doesn’t remind them of it but I don’t think I’m like that. I like to explore the tough times, to understand it, if that makes sense. I’m good at seeing what I read as fiction even if it it close to home.
If you liked The blind assassin, I expect you’d like Alias Grace. Cat’s eye is good too – about the way little girls can treat each other. I quite enjoyed The robber bride, but not as much as the others. The first of hers I read was Bodily harm which is more of a thriller. I quite liked that too, as one who doesn’t read thrillers, but I liked the next ones of hers I read better.
Many thanks -whisperinggums- on the strength of your recommendation I’ll give either Alias Grace or Cat’s eye a whirl, see how I go.
I’ll have to read these, too!
I understand what you mean, Marlish, about not reading depressing books when there’s so much going around us that gets us down. Sometimes, we want our books to be an escape.
I don’t find it so much with books, but depressing movies really affect me. The other day, I watched ‘My Old Lady’ with Maggie Smith, Kevin Klein, and Kristen Scott Thomas, and I felt so depressed afterwards!
Terrific review, Louise. Thanks. It gives me goosebumps thinking back on this story especially when, as you say, there are signs of something similar happening all around us. Dystopian indeed.
Goosebumps is the word, Elisabeth! I don’t think I did it justice in this review, though. There’s so much more to be said about it …
Louise, you write wonderful reviews of the books you read. The detailing is exquisite. Most of the books that you refer to as “classics” were not even written in my generation. We had a different list of classics. It is interesting to me that the list has changed that much–even the Great Gatsby was not considered a classic. With that in mind I have become a complete ignoramus about classic literature and read almost none of them as they were written at a time when I was busy working and having a family. I always considered myself well read and now I find I’m not well read at all. Maybe I’ll write something that will be considered a classic in the next generation or two. Thanks for your review The Handmaiden’s Tale is definitely not a book I would enjoy but I enjoyed reading what you thought of it.
Thanks, Betty, but honestly I don’t think I did The Handmaid’s Tale justice at all in my review. It’s a very complex book, and a great study of human nature and society.
Please don’t pay any attention to my definition of a ‘classic’—it’s very loose, and probably doesn’t meet the definition used by scholars. But as one kind Facebook friend said, there are ‘modern classics’, and this would most likely fit into that. I don’t know how old a book has to be before it’s considered a true classic, but I suspect ‘The Great Gatsby’ has earned that status by now!
Yes, I think we can call this a modern classic … I’m happy with a loose definition. Just under 30 years is probably borderline, but never out of print for 30 years tips the balance in its favour. For the Australian Women’s Writer’s challenge I certainly accept books published in the 1960s and 70s.
Yes, it meets my definition of a classic! And if it hasn’t met the criteria for a modern classic yet, I’m making a prediction that it soon will.
Absolutely it is now or will soon …
Just heard on the radio what the announcer called a ‘classic’—it’s ten years-old!
Wonderful review Louise. You enticed me to read it. I tried to get it through our local library but they only had the Cliff Notes on it–so I bought a copy on Amazon. I look forward to reading it and your next review. If this (buying the books you review) continues, I’ll definitely be richer in brain but poorer in pocket. Thanks, Penny
I think you’ll really enjoy it, Penny. It’s quite confronting, but very powerful. And sad.
I doubt you’ll be tempted to buy all of the books I review—wait until you see what the next one is!
Hi Louise,
I read the Handmaid’s Tale quite a while ago for my book club. We all liked it but we didn’t really discuss it in terms of current political climates. I loved the writing style. I loved the stream of consciousness writing in certain parts of the story. It wasn’t very hard to believe (for the story’s sake) that with a few wrong turns the US could evolve over time into such a state. I remember the terror, the paranoia, the feeling of being stripped of all rights and having to wait for the favor of the captives/ hosts. She keenly incorporates the pitting of woman against woman. (Who is favored by who can conceive. Who gets the best food, etc) Keep the subjugated divided and paranoid at all costs.
I have to say the Epilogue?… where “this time period in US history” is looked back upon really threw me for a loop. I won’t say too much about it because it would be a spoiler, I think, but the tone of that section really drove home the point how time, distance, and purview shape history.
You’ve summed it up beautifully, Karen. I agree—it isn’t hard to believe that it could happen in America, and in Australia too. Like you, I loved the style and the voice. I loved how Offred would tell a version of an event, then say, ‘No, that’s not what happened …’, and retell it, and you weren’t sure if she’s telling the truth in either version! As you say, the fear and paranoia is keenly felt throughout. I loved the Epilogue, too—it answered a few of my questions, and yes, illustrated how history is really just interpretation.
Great review Louise. I’m interested though, that you include a book from the 1980s a ‘classic’; what is your definition of a classic? I love The Handmaid’s Tale, although this is not very surprising because a) I love dystopian novels in general and b) I love nearly everything by Margaret Atwood.
It probably doesn’t meet anyone else’s definition of classic, but I called it that because (a) it’s 30 years old, (b) it’s never been out of print since it was first published, and (c) it’s taught in schools. I figured if it’s not a classic yet, then it soon will be!
I think that’s a fair argument for the ‘classic’ mantle.
I’m glad you approve! 🙂