crashboom

One of the more interesting things in the book is how Luke comforts Offred when she loses her job. I don't remember the exact line, but essentially she says she thinks there is a part of Luke that welcomes having her home and playing the part of the provider/protector.

I remember this vividly because somehow I didn't really catch it on the first read, but did on my second. This, and Moira's surprisingly pleased reaction to the law restrictions, were examples of a more nuanced characterization than my teenage self had come across before.

Here's the excerpt of the scene in question:

That night, after I’d lost my job, Luke wanted to make love. Why didn’t I want to? Desperation alone should have driven me. But I still felt numbed. I could hardly even feel his hands on me.

What’s the matter? he said.

I don’t know, I said.

We still have… he said.

But he didn’t go on to say what we still had. It occurred to me that he shouldn’t be saying we, since nothing that I knew of had been taken away from him.

We still have each other, I said. It was true. Then why did I sound, even to myself, so indifferent?

He kissed me then, as if now I’d said that, things could get back to normal. But something had shifted, some balance. I felt shrunken, so that when he put his arms around me, gathering me up, I was small as a doll. I felt love going forward without me.

He doesn’t mind this, I thought. He doesn’t mind it at all. Maybe he even likes it. We are not each other’s, anymore. Instead, I am his.

Yes, that scene is just a little earlier:

It’s only a job, he said, trying to soothe me.

I guess you get all my money, I said. And I’m not even dead. I was trying for a joke, but it came out sounding macabre.

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.

Is Luke a blindly goose-stepping flag-waving cog in the machinery of the patriarchy, or is that a figment of her imagination, as Atwood clearly indicates is a possibility with this passage.

I think this is a false dichotomy and the answer is neither.

Luke is painted as a sympathetic character from Offred's POV, someone who she loves dearly, who was good to her. Offred's capture happens when Luke and her make an attempt to flee to Canada with their daughter. So clearly, he is not a happy cog in the machine. But to have this moment where he has a flash of somewhat enjoying this patriarchal role-- that is complex and darkly human. To write it off as either him being villainized or Offred just having a false perception is to ignore the nuance of the writing.

Luke cannot be hers, she imagines, unless she has an income. How puerile a way to view love, which should trump feminist ideals and patriarchal ones with equal aplomb.

It isn't about money-- it's about autonomy. The law is that no women are allowed to hold jobs, and no women are allowed to own property. Everything that belongs to her, belongs now to her husband. You cannot be equals in a relationship with that kind of power imbalance. That is the point of the law/"regime change" in the book, to dis-empower women. It is not a relationship reduced to "pure love" but a relationship with one person whose existence and identity are being stolen from her.

I love you on Parks and Rec. How has your experience been filming the show? Do you have more coming up?

Also, this is my favorite tweet of all time.

I know, I didn't get here in time to ask anything either! I'm a writer and Margaret Atwood is my #1 influence. She packs so much punch in so few words. I strive for her minimalist but emotional prose. This book changed my life-- and my writing.