ŷ������

Reading dystopias until I turn into a depressed genius project, book one

This book leaves you on the edge of your seat, it leaves you numb and terrified and filled with questions and ends with the most destructive sentence I've ever read

"Are there any questions?"

SO GOOD. SO CLEVER. SO HAUNTING.

It was so breathtaking to read this story through the eyes of a woman. So many important topics are covered. Womanhood, misogyny, sex, rebellion, purpose, religion, suppresion. And all bundled together in such a delicate and genius package. On top of that, Margaret's writing is just poetry. Every sentence just kind of seeps into something deeper.

There was one chapter, one paragraph in particular that left me gawking and it goes as follows:

"I'm a cloud, congealed around a central object, the shape of a pear, which is hard and more real than I am and glows red within its translucent wrapping. Inside it is a space, huge as the sky at night and dark and curved like that, though black-red rather than black. Pinpoints of light swell, sparkle, burst and shrivel within it, countless as stars. Every month there is a moon, gigantic, round, heavy, an omen. It transits, pauses, continues on and passes out of sight, and I see despair coming towards me like a famine. To feel that empty, again, again. I listen to my heart, wave upon wave, salty and red, continuing on and on, marking time."

She's describing herself as a womb, and its powerful and beautiful and every single bit part of this book.

The narration feels so real. It says so much yet uncovers so little: the portrayal we get of the world is purely throughout Offred's eyes. The slow unwinding of the dystopian world through each new chapter, the fierceness of Offred anger and rebellion, the hope and the yearning for a happy ending.

(view spoiler)[

"Here is what I'd like to tell. I'd like to tell a story, about how Moira escaped, for good this time. Or if I couldn't tell that, I'd like to say she blew up Jezebel's, with fifty Commanders inside it. I'd like her to end with something daring and spectacular, some outrage, something that would befit her. But as far as I know that didn't happen. I don't know how she ended, or even if she did, because I never saw her again.

She wants Moira to be more like a protagonist than she actually is. She wants to tell us something else, but can't because that's not the truth. (hide spoiler)]

And then there are these two quotes:

"Ignoring isn’t the same as ignorance, you have to work at it.��

and

"I would like to be ignorant. Than I would not know how ignorant I was."

As with every single sentence in this book, it's something to be tasted, rolled around with, thought about. I feel like you can't just read this book and be done with it, it - will - haunt - you.

There's so so much to say about this: I could talk about the flower references, more, more, more, endless, quotes, i could talk about the world, the sex scene which revealed so much and made me so uncomfortable, the parallels, the tv series. But I won't, I can't - it's the same as giving this book a rating, unfitting, you just have to read it and think about it for yourself!!

I will savour this story in my head and cherish the magic Atwood created.

More reviews in this project:
Book one: The Handmaids Tale
Book two: Fahrenheit 451
Book three: Brave New World
Book four: 1984
Book five: Speak