I’m coming to you a little groggy this morning due to a late night and (not really) early morning. I stayed up well past my bedtime, finally turning off the light around 1:15 only to be woken up at 8:11 to sounds of what could only be a burglar/Hannibal Lecter, but which were actually the girls below me putting their dishes away. I was looking for at least thirty more minutes of slumber, but alas, here I am.
Ah, so yes, after that thrilling non sequitur you might perhaps be wondering what kept me up so late. Answer: a book I just couldn’t put down! The
photo courtesy of marshall.edu
Handmaid’s Tale. Slow to start, the plot in Margaret Atwood’s novel thickened like a roux (obscure cooking reference) and all at once I was hooked. I really don’t want to spoil this one for your, so here’s just a little amuse bouche:
Picture this: totalitarian theocracy (originally accidentally spelled this theocrazy–Freudian slip!) in which women are sorted and classified, some forced to become concubines serving an increasingly agéd male population. These women have no rights: they cannot read; they cannot speak in public; they cannot have money; or live alone. They live to serve as vessels to replenish a population destroyed under (homicidal) regime. Think genocide. The novel is about one Handmaid’s (concubine’s) tale. It is told part in the present with series’ of flashbacks to a time before the sudden shift, when life was normal, and to her time spent training as a Handmaid and the excruciating mind-cleansing that took place there.
The genius of Atwood is in her writing style. I knew from The Blind Assassin that the author places more importance on character development and word choice than a roller coaster plot. At various points The Handmaid’s Tale felt like an exercise in wordplay, and I just marveled at Atwood’s crafty ability to manipulate the language. She is able to make you feel nostalgic for things you don’t even miss. For example, the women aren’t allowed to read and at various points The Handmaid remembers with sweet relish what it was like to absorb the written word and you can’t help but feel as if you’ve lost this ability too. In turn, you begin to savor each word on the page, realizing how intentional they all are. When reading becomes a visceral experience like this, I’m hooked.
Last night I happened to be at a crucial moment in the book and simply couldn’t put it down. Two hours later the book was finished and I was one sleepy girl. But, with my head clear now with the elixir of life (coffee) I can confidently and lucidly claim that you should read The Handmaid’s Tale. It’s worth it!
I’m trying to keep things light on the reading list after a couple of intense books, so next up:
photo courtesy of harpercollins.com
A Broad At Home 