The Handmaid's Tale

“It isn’t running away they’re afraid of. We wouldn’t get far. It’s those other escapes, the ones you can open in yourself, given a cutting edge.” 

Offred’s discussion of Handmaids committing suicide provides a shocking insight into the extent of the trauma and desperation the Handmaids experience. The fact that this is treated as a problem to be solved by removing any sharp objects rather than an indication that the Gileadean regime is doing something terribly wrong shows its true callous disregard.  

“The truth is that she is my spy, as I am hers. If either of us slips through the net because of something that happens on one of our daily walks, the other will be accountable.” 

One of the most effective ways Gilead maintains social control is by encouraging the population to spy on one another. When they first become shopping partners, both Offred and Ofglen are careful to maintain an image of pious conformity, each terrified that the other one might report her for any infractions. Such paranoia is rife in Gilead, where anyone could be a potential spy or informant.

“Oiling themselves like roast meat on a spit, and bare backs and shoulders, on the street, in public, and legs, not even stockings on them, no wonder those things used to happen.” 

Aunt Lydia presents women dressing “immodestly” before the rise of Gilead as the cause of sexual assaults and abuse. This reflects and make comment on long-standing and ongoing rape apologist rhetoric that suggests that women’s clothing choices are the reason men commit rape. 

“I avoid looking down at my body, not so much because it’s shameful or immodest but because I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to look at something that determines me so completely.” 

In Gilead, Offred is valued only for her reproductive capacity, and her whole identity is subsumed by this function. This shapes her perception of herself, causing her to dissociate from her body and stop viewing it as something to which she has any claim. 

“But whose fault was it? Aunt Helena says, holding up one plump finger.

“Her fault, her fault, her fault, we chant in unison.

“Who led them on? Aunt Helena beams, pleased with us.

“She did. She did. She did.” 

As part of their “training,” the Handmaids have to undergo “Testifying” sessions, in which they confess to past “sinful” behaviors while the others chastise them for their guilt. The Aunts present Janine as responsible for a gang rape she endured as a teenager, and the other Handmaids dutifully echo the condemnation, even, in that moment, believing that it is true. 

“Give me children, or else I die. Am I in God’s stead, who hath withheld from thee the fruit of the womb? Behold my maid Bilah. She shall bear upon my knees, that I may also have children by her.”

The Bible story of Rachel telling her husband, Jacob, to have sex with her maid, Bilah, in order to make her pregnant is the model for the Ceremony. It provides a supposed justification for forcing the Handmaids to bear the Commanders’ children, influences the physical arrangements of the Ceremony, and even gives the Handmaids their title. 

“My red skirt is hitched up to my waist, though no higher. Below it the Commander is fucking. What he is fucking is the lower part of my body.” 

As a means of coping with the trauma of the Ceremony, Offred dissociates from her own body. She describes the experience as though it is happening to something separate from herself because she does not consider herself to truly be involved in the act. 

“Can I be blamed for wanting a real body to put my arms around? Without it I too am disembodied.” 

Offred feels guilty for her encounter with Nick, feeling that she is being unfaithful to Luke, who may or may not still be alive. She justifies it in her head by looking at the physical comfort she gains from the encounter, which is so far removed from the impersonal, passionless abuse of the Ceremony. It allows her to get a sense that she is once more in charge of her own body and that her body can actually experience pleasure. 

“Consider the alternatives, said Aunt Lydia. You see what things used to be like? That was what they thought of women then.” 

Central to Gilead’s justification for denying women freedom and autonomy is the idea that it is protecting them from threats. During training at the Red Centre, Aunt Lydia shows an exaggerated, possibly faked, example of violent pornography to support the idea that the time before Gilead was more violently misogynistic than it truly was, making the state’s repression seems more reasonable by comparison. 

“I’m sorry, he said. I didn’t mean to. But I find it…

What? I said, when he didn’t go on.

Impersonal, he said.

How long did it take you to find that out? I said.” 

The Commander frequently seems unaware of, or in denial about, the extent of the Handmaids’ suffering and his own role in it. By eventually deciding that the Ceremony is “impersonal” (but still not viewing it as traumatic or abusive), he reveals the extent to which he simply does not consider the experiences of Handmaids or women in general. 

“Hush, he said. He was still kneeling on the floor. You know I’ll always take care of you.

“I thought, already he’s starting to patronize me. Then I thought, already you’re starting to get paranoid.” 

As Gilead rises to power, one of its first acts of repression involves banning women from working and owning property or money. Offred’s husband, Luke, seems to actually enjoy the way he benefits from this new arrangement, quickly and willingly taking on a more traditional male role as head of the household. Offred recognizes this but also denies it to herself, dismissing it as paranoia.  

“I didn’t go on any of the marches. Luke said it would be futile and I had to think about them, my family, him and her. I did think about my family. I started doing more housework, more baking. I tried not to cry at mealtimes.” 

Offred is apathetic and complacent about the growing restrictions placed on women’s autonomy. She quickly acquiesces to Luke’s suggestion that she should focus on her family rather than attend feminist protest marches and soon takes on a more traditional, domestic role in the household.

“‘She hanged herself,’ he says; thoughtfully, not sadly. ‘That’s why we had the light fixture removed. In your room.’ He pauses. ‘Serena found out,’ he says, as if this explains it.

“And it does.

“If your dog dies, get another.” 

The Commander never truly views women, and especially Handmaids, as people. He does not seem aware of his own power or guilty for his part in the woman’s death. Instead, he happily gets another Handmaid and repeats the same self-serving activities that resulted in her death. It is never precisely clear how Serena finding out caused the Handmaid to hang herself, but this fact adds to a growing sense of Serena as someone who is callous and dangerous. 

“Better? I say, in a small voice. How can he think this is better?

Better never means better for everyone, he says. It always means worse, for some.” 

For the Commander, the ends justify the means, and he is perfectly willing to accept the suffering of Handmaids and women more generally if it means life improves for him and other men. He claims, “You can’t make an omelette without breaking eggs” (222), safe in the knowledge that he is not one of the “eggs.”

“This way they’re protected, they can fulfil their biological destinies in peace. With full support and encouragement.” 

Like the Aunts, the Commander appears to genuinely believe Gilead’s rhetoric about women needing protection. He does not see this as patronizing and restrictive, and either believes that the state is doing something good for the Handmaids or claims to believe this. The co-opting of science to suggest that women have an innate, immutable “biological destiny” complements the co-opting of religious ideas to support this understanding.  

“I don’t have to tell it. I don’t have to tell anything, to myself or to anyone else. I could just sit here, peacefully. I could withdraw. It’s possible to go so far in, so far down and back, they could get you out.

Nolite te bastardes carborundorum. Fat lot of good it did her.

Why fight?” 

Throughout the novel, Offred is complacent and unwilling to truly fight back against the regime. She simply withdraws into passive denial, rather than providing Ofglen with information. While it is possible to criticize Offred for this, it is important to consider the trauma she has experienced and how hopeless resistance appears to her, especially when the previous Handmaid, who tried to resist, eventually hanged herself because of her treatment. 

“‘So here I am. They even give you face cream. You should figure out some way of getting in here You’d have three or four good years before your snatch wears out and they send you to the boneyard. The food’s not bad and there’s drink and drugs, if you want it, and we only work nights.’” 

Moira has always represented rebellion and resistance to Offred, and her friend’s escape from the Red Centre is a source of joy and strength, even if Offred also finds it frightening and does not attempt to replicate it. When she sees that Moira has effectively given up and accepted a subordinated place within the regime, placated with minor “luxuries” just as she herself has been, she is crushingly disappointed. 

“I wish this story were different. I wish it were more civilized. I wish it showed me in a better light, if not happier, then at least more active, less hesitant, less distracted by trivia.” 

Offred is consistently aware of her own complacency and complicity and regularly feels guilty for it. Here she wishes that she could have been less passive or less easily caught up in her relationships with the Commander and Nick. As Offred is an ordinary person rather than a simplistic “feminist hero,” she is more relatable, and this encourages readers to ask questions about how they would respond to such a situation. 

“I went back to Nick. Time after time, on my own, without Serena knowing. It wasn’t called for, there was no excuse. I did not do it for him, but for myself entirely.”

Offred’s affair with Nick is highly significant. In a society that has reduced her to body parts to be used by others, having passionate, pleasurable sex for her own benefit helps her reconnect with her body and reclaim her sexual autonomy. 

“The fact is that I no longer want to leave, escape, cross the border to freedom. I want to be here, with Nick, where I can get at him.”

Although sleeping with Nick is, in some respects, an important act of rebellion against the restrictive mores of Gilead, it also encourages Offred to be more apathetic. The pleasure she gains from this affair placates her to such a degree that she apparently no longer actually wants to escape the confinement and abuse that she experiences. 

“A sigh goes up from us; despite myself I feel my hands clench. It is too much, this violation. The baby too, after what we go through. It’s true, there is a bloodlust; I want to tear, gouge, rend.” 

Gilead employs “Particicutions” both as a way to reinforce the idea that the state is protecting Handmaids from threats like rapists and as a way of siphoning off the anger that the Handmaids might otherwise direct at them. That Offred gets caught up in the moment and experiences the “bloodlust” the event encourages demonstrates the effectiveness of this method and the extent of her indoctrination. 

“I want to keep on living, in any form. I resign my body freely, to the uses of others. They can do what they like with me. I am abject.

“I feel, for the first time, their true power.” 

When Offred learns how close she came to being exposed as not being a “true believer”—something she is spared by Ofglen killing herself before the Eyes can torture information out of her—she realizes how much she is willing to sacrifice in order to survive. She relinquishes any fantasy of resisting or reclaiming her bodily autonomy, promising effectively to stop fighting back in any way, as long as she is allowed to live.  

“Whether this is my end or a new beginning I have no way of knowing: I have given myself over into the hands of stranger, because it can’t be helped.” 

The main narrative ends on an ambiguous note. It is not clear if Nick is truly helping her escape or if it is simply a trick. As such, Offred does not know if she is being rescued from Gilead or being taken to be tortured and killed. Her passive response mirrors her passivity earlier in the novel, raising important questions of how much choice she has truly had at any stage of the story.