The Handmaid's Tale Chapter's 30-39: June's Jejune Jubilation

    As the novel progresses, June's relationships with the Commander, with Moira, and with Luke are developed in a turn for the worse. There are now more hints that the commander does not think much of June except another Handmaid to enjoy as indicated by taking her to some sort of club and then spending the night with her with her not not altogether willing participation. In a rather perturbing way June's night with the Commander manages to be more disturbing then the Ceremony despite the build up and increased organic involvement, as if being genuine makes the situation more imaginable. Moira comes back in a strip club, the complete opposite place to where one would probably expect her to be considering her characterization as a strong, independent woman who dislikes men. There she wears some sort of a cheap bunny outfit and is seen just trying to survive, no doubt showing how ideals mean nearly nothing in a society in which livelihood has to be fought over. Luke, although not making a scene in the present, is seen in the past once more during the time when the escape attempt fails.
     Further unsettling is the mention of June's daughter being seen in the car just before the failed escape and then later in a white dress in a photo awaiting marriage, communicating the cold calculation that Atwood uses by giving little tidbits of information about characters, getting one involved with a character especially with a particularly interesting scene right before dashing those hopes when the character ends up in a situation some might describe as worse than death. June's mother is also all but confirmed to be dead given that she is confirmed by Moira to be in the Colonies cleaning up toxins until her body collapses. Even Janine loses her baby, apparently for the second time. Basically Atwood relay a depressing series of snippets that involve her characters with negative situations.
     Perhaps the only positives are Rita's now just barely casual talk with June and Serena's partnership with June to try and help fulfill the Handmaid's duty. However, the rest of the book will probably pick up considering that the final stretch is within sight. It seems unlikely that the resolution will be as gloomy given the importance of balance in a book that seems to be littered with troubling symbols. Apparently, June has all but accepted her fate, putting on only a facade to keep up appearances. To the very least June no longer seems bent on mentioning power every chance she can do it.

Handmaid's Tale Chapters 18-29: June's Acceptence and its Inure of Her Individual Situation

     As time goes on June's relationships becomes more intimate with the Commander. What is especially interesting is that the relationship is not inherently manipulative, but rather seems candid and casual on the part of both the Commander and June. The days of the two are spent on playing scrabble and similar word games. While June does not immediately come to a realization as to the nature of the relationship, being confused at first, she later grows accustomed to his company. June starts to cross her legs, melt into the sofa, and even ask like the Commander to an extent. In fact June begins to feel shy about the Ceremony that she, the Commander and his wife have. Even though June is trained to treat the Ceremony as an operation or a critical function that is by its nature mechanical, she believes that a certain feeling of awkwardness not present before has developed, a feeling that is apparently mutual on the part of the Commander as he reaches to unceremoniously touch her face. Near the end of the final chapter of the set, the Commander says that he is doing this as he believes he owes June something as he feels he is part of her systematic oppression.
      Of course there is some element of a romantic connection involved as he wants to make lip contact with June in a genuine way and still performs the Ceremony with her. It can also be just as likely that he wants to actually have a human connection with someone else or break taboos, a definite possibility given that he reveals that he used to be a schoolboy from whose books is imprinted the reoccurring Latin phrase which June so often remembers. Indeed it seems that it is likely to be a culmination of all 4 possibilities to varying degrees. To adapt June accepts whichever role she plays for the opportunity to have some control over her life and enjoy luxuries for her contemporary society that she would ordinarily never be afforded.
     Whilst June is becoming more accustomed with the Commander, she also remembers the time when the actual change of her society from that which the Western World of the late twentieth century might feel at home with to that of entrapment and religious radicalism. Her description of those days of stark change show how she lost her job for being a woman and how she also began to care less for her family while pitying her life. In reminiscing, June shows how the loss of power for women crippled them and herself.  It is no mystery then that June does not trust the other gender as they are seen to be ultimately manipulative, something that she does not necessarily fault them for as she accepts even her own stereotypical traditional view of herself. Perhaps some change in the somewhat undefined relationship of June and the Commander will advance the plot, or another revolution will be incited, or maybe she will attempt to run away or even all three will occur. At such a midway point, it is hard to ascertain the ending direction.

Handmaid's Tale Chapters 8-17: the Plot's Slow Unraveling

     Throughout the chapters more information is presented, although the feature that sets this section of the book from the previous one of seven chapters is the formation and sustained focus of a timeline going forward. As the first set focused on setting things up, this one tries to give momentum to the story line. Of course, as aforementioned, there is still the foundation and beginning of a story,  only in the next set the forward march of chronology is more tangible to the mind as it takes time to settle in to the compound narrative. The transitions between timelines, from past flashbacks to the present, are nearly seamless, although in order to implement such a sustained effect on the reader the pacing has to be rather slow. Consequently, the book moves in a steady, formulaic fashion that has purposeful references to the past woven in at intervals which the author presumably deemed most appropriate.
     In order to retain the reader's interest, the author also purposefully leads little tidbits of information through which the one reading may paint a picture that develops along with the progress of the plot. One example is how the protagonist's name is not revealed outright; instead, the reader is given a singular reference point that has multiple names in which the main character's name is also mentioned, albeit indistinguishable from that of the other girl's names in practice. Throughout the novel the name of the protagonist is never explicitly mentioned and thus the reader has purpose to continue reading as the intrigue to find out such a basic component of the narrative is nurtured. As the novel goes forward the names of other characters are revealed, allowing the reader to disqualify them as practical candidates as to the name of the protagonist. Such a writer's choice is very deliberate and profound, clearly portraying to the reader a reward of information in exchange for a continued engagement of interest.
     Another example of purposeful measures taken to sustain interest is how characters are developed. At the start the characters are relatively bland and raw, but as the novel develops-backward as well as forward- they exhibit more individualized features, such as the interest of Nick in the protagonist. By way of forming or revealing the more intimate relationships with or around the main character, the individuals are given more defined characteristics that make them more unique and memorable. Even though this practice of elaborating on characters is extremely common, it is especially important in a novel that depends on delivering information as a means of keeping interest. With the progression of the novel it is also becoming more evident that the protagonist is developing connections with other characters almost solely as a way of obtaining power, freedom or security, with the three rarely being simultaneous factors. Thus it may be reasonably predicted that some other relationship might form with the main character and someone of power as a way of leading up to the climax through the rising action of getting closer to such an event. Such a scenario seems to match up nicely with how the book is progressing up to this point and how it concludes the  second set of chapters. It should be interesting to see how the character, who seems to be heading towards a tragic ending, continues to live in the community.

Handmaid's Tale Chapters 1-7: a Radical Religion in the Form of Dystopian Literature With a Dash of Feminism

     From the outset the Handmaid's Tale has an interesting premise. It centers around a female protagonist with a unique dystopian background that has strong religious overtones. In addition, there are elements of feminism permeating from different sections. In fact, the very title is a testament to the novel's inherent feminism as a handmaid is, definition courtesy of dictionary.com, a subservient object or person. Such a role articulates well with Feminist Theory, which is undeniably at least partially focused around power, and more specifically control. Since the title has an occupation or rank instead of a name, the nature of the book is implied to be more of a focus on a general concept rather than an individual component. The lack of a name being accorded to the protagonist and narrator in the first set of seven (albeit short) chapters is further indication of this focus on a particular aspect of society rather than a necessarily character. Also, since the protagonist is not named in either the title or the first set, a sense of powerlessness is enhanced, along with the nature of the story being more representational than exceptional. Of course, a counter-point that may be argued is that the use of first-person narration serves to personalize the storytelling. Although this is true to some extent, it does far more to reinforce the feministic tendencies of the novel as an individualistic story communicates a loss of power better than one with multiple impersonal perspectives. Thus, rather paradoxically, feelings of impersonality and uniqueness clash as the two genres of literature, dystopian and feministic, meld together to try and express the points of both in a distinct, albeit idiosyncratic, way. 

      The first seven sets of chapters themselves mainly serve to establish the setting of the dystopian novel: some sort of an "American Dream" ideal suburb community, with Protestant religious zealotry (no offense to any religious denomination intended) determinant in clothing style from white wings covering female faces to red dresses representing mistresses, and a police state mentality encompassing everything, from the grunt-like Guardians to the patriarchal Commanders. In fact, the designation of supreme authority to an older man who commands all others and has several wives is a huge and prominent derivation of the views of contemporary Feminism, which often holds likewise older men to be manipulative and authoritative, especially in regards to females. Refocusing on setting, the community is likely located somewhere in the South as there was a mention to Baptists being killed somewhere near to them. Chronologically speaking, the timeline probably takes place during the late twentieth century or later due to the author publishing the book in 1985 and the reference to fairly modern schools with basketball hoops and gymnasiums. 

     In terms of characters, the protagonist seems to be more of an outlet to express feminist thoughts and fantasies, and therefore that of her whole group. It is her whole group as they are being herded as a collective and the narrator always tries to relate to them by putting herself in their shoes. There is not a lot of wholly unique personification occurring, although the narrator does try especially hard to be obedient and respectful to society to the point that it is inadvisable. The other girls, mainly Rita and Cora, are mentioned sparsely throughout. Rita seems to be a more rebellious and spirited girl, while Cora is characterized to be more level-headed, understanding the alternatives to a situation better than the more idealistic Rita. Aunt Lydia seems to be almost solely a medium of communication that transmits the traditional beliefs of the society, being a mentor figure to the protagonist. Serena Joy, or the Commander's wife, is someone who appears to have lost her flair and seems to be completely devoted to her husband, putting her full faith in the stereotypical doctrine of being a submissive wife. She smokes cigarettes, which are technically illegal but can apparently be bartered quite easily on black markets, but not with money as it has disappeared.  Cigarettes themselves can be viewed as a symbol of rebellion, something that would resonate especially well with feminism in the context of a dystopian society or indeed any human being in general. Nick seems like a person who sympathizes with and understands the protagonist, but is likewise afraid of getting caught. Ofglen is another Handmaid like the protagonist and appears to be similarly faithful to the beliefs of her society, though it is unclear whether she really believes it or is doing it mainly to not be singled out. Overall, the characters that have been elaborated on do not appear to be overwhelmingly individualistic and seem to serve as explanation of what to expect in the dystopian society. Perhaps future chapters will develop the personality of the aforementioned characters now that the background has been solidly set.