by Laura Cude
As mentioned in last week’s post, Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale tops at least two lists of best feminist reads. It’s included on many school reading lists as compulsory reading and there’s extensive critical analysis written on the book, including on this very website courtesy of Nicolette Westfall’s insightful series. There is probably very little that I could say about the book that hasn’t been said before, but what surprises me is my complete ignorance of this seminal piece of work until a couple of years ago.
Such novels as Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World, and George Orwell’s 1984 have long been a part of the literary foreground, if you like, that I and my peers have been exposed to. These dystopian novels, as popular as they are, invite a sort of cult readership due to their association with anti totalitarian themes which attracts the disillusioned and anarchist minded—an indication of why these books seem so popular with youths who are just starting to make up their minds about the world. The Handmaid’s Tale is, to the general reader, in the same vein as these dystopian novels, however this book was not recommended to me at all, let alone with as much passion, as the aforementioned male written novels were to me. Yet there are notable similar themes, such as the repression of a country’s subjects through the perversion of language as demonstrated in Atwood’s novel with such terms as “unwomen” for those females who are sterile, feminists, lesbians etc. and in 1984 with “Newspeak,” where vocabulary is reduced and simplified in order to eventually remove any words which describe notions of freedom and rebellion.
Despite Huxley and Orwell (or male authors in general) being favoured by my school and college’s syllabi, there is no denying that A Handmaid’s Tale is as influential and important to our ideas about our behaviour and how it is controlled now, and how this manifests in the future as other major, “speculative fiction”—as Atwood describes it.
Margaret Atwood vehemently disagrees with the notion that her book is work of science fiction, and she draws a distinction between imaginary, theoretical advancements in technology and the supernatural and what could conceivably happen, in this case to women, as a result of current assumptions and treatment of our gender. As the author points out herself in an interview included in the 1998 version of the book, “This is a book about what happens when certain casually held attitudes about women are taken to their logical conclusion.”
What is strikingly interesting in this example of Atwood’s work is her critique of the contemporary feminism of the time. This book was published in 1985, in light of Andrea Dworkin’s and Catharine Mackinnon’s firm stance against pornography. References to this can be seen when the protagonist Offred recalls her mother’s mass burning of pornographic images. This stance led to such feminists being criticised for favouring censorship. In response, this spawned sex positive feminism (also known by the abhorrent title of “fun feminism”), where a woman’s choice to be featured in pornography, appear in strip clubs and be a sex worker are seen as integral to female’s sexual freedom. Interesting point, but of course, it’s impossible for a woman to utilise herself in this way without being at the servitude of a man, resulting in a irksome feminist dogma.
Atwood’s book is so sublime that I feel inept to comment on whether it deserves to be featured in the goodreads list. A fictional exploration of women’s subjugation can sometimes have more resonance than a non fiction account, for it draws in audiences which can’t be reached with straight up feminist critiques. The dystopian setting adds a disjointing and terrifyingly prophetic look at women’s fate, much like how Orwell and Huxley made us look at humans as a race. Despite my belief in my lack of qualification, this book has earned it‘s place in the list.
The dissection of goodreads’ feminist reading list will continue next week so join me as we drop to number 44 in the roll and look at Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s novel/poem Aurora Leigh.
About Laura Cude
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Hi, Laura!
I’m actually rereading The Handmaid’s Tale right now, for maybe the fifth or sixth time. You’re totally right about the language in it — there is a distinct Gileadean lexicon, and it is as pervasive as Newspeak. I hadn’t noticed that before.
I’d also heard before that the book seemed partly to blame anti-pornography/anti-prostitution feminism for the rise of Gilead, but I’d never been able to see that before. The only indication is the girlie-mag bonfire scene you mentioned, which I’d always forgotten because it was so short, and not crucial to the plot. I still think that scene might have several different possible meanings, because so many of Offred’s memories from before Gilead show not just Offred’s life with her husband, daughter and friends, but also the ways in which our (current) society exploits and terrorizes women. Plus, the scenes in Jezebel’s, and also some stuff from her more recent dystopia (Oryx and Crake and The Year of the Flood) seem to me to indicate pretty clearly that Atwood sees prostitution as exploitation, not as a totally free and unproblematic life choice. (Of course, that doesn’t preclude her from *also* thinking Dworkin and MacKinnon were wrong!)
Anyway, your post is really good, and I quite agree that Atwood’s dystopia is a classic.
I have another post at my blog after now having read The Handmaid’s Tale. If you can access my email as an author, feel free to write outside of this article. I’m linking my blog posts to this article, regardless, so that others can read what you’ve written here.
Thanks for all the comments as I love the other side topic consideration of sex workers, as well.
In fact, personally, I’ve said before that I think that prostitution, the selling of actual sexual acts, seems more honest and respectable than strip clubs, which deceive and seem to merely extort money based on a false promise.
When you write about women making lesbian porn for women, I then have to ask though, what IS the difference? Why would lesbian porn, by women for women, be “different” than female/male sex for female/male couples or individuals? This is rhetorical, of course, but I’d love to sit with all of the commenters and the author for a cup of tea and discussion if that ever presented itself!
I would highly recommend reading “Unrepentant Whore: The Collected Writings of Scarlot Harlot.” The book is a fantastic account of one woman’s career as a sex worker, including why she got into it, why she stayed in it, and the specific reasons why she felt empowered by her career rather than degraded. Scarlot Harlot also does not shy away from the scary and dangerous parts of sex work, but explains exactly why she preferred prostitution over other professions (and in fact why she found it less degrading than other forms of work).
I’m not going to deny that there are ways in which women can be (and are) exploited through sex work, but to say that it’s impossible completely erases the perspectives of women who have built empowering lives for themselves as a result of their profession. In addition, by claiming that all sex work is inherently exploitative, that shuts down the possibility for discussion on the specific ways in which exploitation occurs, and how to remove exploitation and allow for women to engage in such work. It allows for exploitation to continue because nobody talks about how to change the system – they just allow the abuses to perpetuate because they’re surrounded by silence. Women (and men) have been engaging in sex work for centuries, and will continue to engage in sex work probably until the universe ends.
Finally, to say that homosexual women who consume porn are simply mimicking learned behaviors taught by men/a masculine-controlled media really takes away from their agency and sexuality, not to mention their own experiences with sexism and heterosexism/homophobia.
Buying and selling sex cannot be reduced to a predator/prey transaction. Does it happen? Yes. But there are so many other experiences out there, to reduce it to something predatory victimizes all sex workers and turns all consumers into evil criminals – whether the sellers are female/male/trans, and whether the buyers are female/male/trans.
We already know that so many facets of life cannot be reduced to such simplistic terms, and sex work is no different. To characterize it as an inherent form of slavery silences the voices of sex workers who do find fulfillment in it, and also silences dialogues that could be used to make the industry less oppressive.
I understand that sex workers, with the intention of presenting the porn to lesbians, are not selling the product directly to men, even if they consume it. What makes me uncomfortable however, is in my experience (and I stress the words “my experience”) of lesbians whom visit strip clubs designed for their purposes and indulge in other erotica that is aimed at the homosexual female, is that they exhibit master and prey behaviours that are akin to that between the heterosexual male and the female sex worker. I feel this behaviour is learnt from watching how men react to and treat women in the sex industries, and from how we’re told to react to the feminine figure by the media, which essentially is controlled and conditioned by men. This is why I think it’s impossible for women to work in this way without being enslaved to the opposite sex.
I saw Fight Club quite some time ago (I was eleven when it first came out) and the whole narrative experience was ruined for me as I came to watch it having already knowing the ending (courtesy of a TV show with spoilers which came without warning). I haven’t read the book, but what you mention about someone finding “growth, redemption and a sense of caring for the entire world, community and society through relationship” being inherently feminist is an interesting take on what is, indeed, feminist and one that I hadn’t considered. I think you‘ve convinced me to give the book a read, especially as the ending is different and therefore not yet spoiled for me.
I agree with what you said about 1984 and Brave New World being prophetic works, rather than science fiction, when reading them now. Have you read Animal Farm? I find it much more chilling as instead of foretelling, it confirms our fears of the present.
“Interesting point, but of course, it’s impossible for a woman to utilise herself in this way without being at the servitude of a man, resulting in a irksome feminist dogma.”
I don’t think it’s impossible at all. Although I have never been a sex worker myself, I am currently writing a novel about prostitutes, and have done a lot of research into the issues of agency surrounding the sex industry.
While there are a lot of women who get into sex work who are at the servitude of men, and while race and class privilege do have an impact on women’s reason’s for entering various sex trades and can have an impact on their experiences with such work, to say that it is “impossible” for a woman to choose sex work without being at the servitude of a man is dismissive of the wide range of experiences that come with sex work.
If nothing else – what about sex workers who make porn for lesbians? Heterosexual men might purchase and enjoy lesbian porn, but if the intent is to make it for other lesbians rather than heterosexual men, I hardly think that they are enslaving themselves to men.
I, too, have somehow never read this book. However, I will now read it. With my handy nook, I can go online (hopefully) and find it in e-book format for immediate reading. That aside, I wonder whether you’ve read Fight Club? (or whether you’ve seen the movie) I realize it was written by a man, however, I also think this man is particularly interesting in the dystopian novel genre for his perspectives.
On the surface, Fight Club seems all-male, and testosterone-fueled. I, myself, resisted seeing it as it was advertised. When it went to video (yes, that dinosaur VHS), I resisted it each time my husband and I went to the store to rent a film. I kept telling him I didn’t want to watch men beat each other up for two hours. When I finally saw the film, after it was continually recommended by people I respected, I was blown away, and not just by the story itself with the plot twist ending.
I went and read the book, which has a different ending. Both endings are terrific. However, the book is far more chilling in the end. It’s Shelley’s warning in Frankenstein about being careful what you create man (and by that I mean specifically the male as creator in the world).
I had already read Susan Faludi’s “Stiffed” and could not help but compare what I saw in Fight Club to Faludi’s thesis. You see, in the end, it is the character’s love for the woman that saves him from himself. He is able to overcome a very serious psychosis due to the power of love and the relationship in which he finds himself. (Yes, yes, can of worms that all of that is aside.)
Rather than Winston ultimately betraying Julia in 1984, the Fight Club character redeems himself in light of his care, love and personal growth that comes from his relationship with Marla. This is an exact example of feminist theories of growth such as relational development. Thus, the fact that Fight Club was written by a male author is even more interesting as we examine literary history and the dystopian novel’s development. The female character, as flawed as she seems in Fight Club as an “ideal” feminist woman, is, at her heart, at least still sane despite the society in which she lives. She has issues, for sure, yet not nearly the extent of issues of the male character. In the end, she advocates for herself, and even when she is detained by the main male character’s minions, he is thereby “cured” and brought to a kind of wholeness as the result of his care for her. What could be more feminist than someone finding growth, redemption and a sense of caring for the entire world, community and society through relationship?
If you have a chance to dialog about this, I’d be very interested in your thoughts. I will also go and read Atwood’s book to see what that has to say. As your comments hint toward, I wonder if the fact that Atwood’s text is not science fiction is what makes it hard for people to read. I am not sure, however, since when I re-read 1984 or Brave New World, as I do now and again, I find them less science fiction than prophecy or self-fulfilling prophecy. We can’t go anywhere in the United States without television. While it might not be “two-way” t.v. (yet), it is ubiquitous and inescapable. The nature of what is presented is merely self-policed, with no need for “Big Brother” as people pressure one another into viewing or view those as suspect who do not watch. It is far worse than Orwell could even imagine it. A glance at birthing practices, again, especially in the U.S., will also show what has come true from Brave New World.