Plot Summary
The World of Gilead
Margaret Atwood's "The Handmaid's Tale" unfolds in the Republic of Gilead, a totalitarian theocracy that has replaced the former United States following a catastrophic decline in fertility rates. The story is narrated by Offred, whose real name is revealed only near the novel's end as June. She serves as a Handmaid, part of a class of fertile women forced into sexual servitude to bear children for the ruling elite. The narrative alternates between Offred's present circumstances and her memories of the time before Gilead's establishment, creating a haunting portrait of how quickly a democratic society can collapse into authoritarian control.
The regime has systematically stripped women of their rights, dividing them into rigid categories based on their fertility and social status. Wives, dressed in blue, are the spouses of Commanders and hold the highest female rank. Handmaids, identifiable by their red robes and white wings, are valued solely for their reproductive capacity. Marthas, in green, serve as domestic workers, while Econowives in striped dresses represent the wives of lower-ranking men. Unwomen, those deemed useless to society, are sent to the Colonies to clean up toxic waste until they die. This color-coded hierarchy immediately establishes the dehumanizing nature of Gilead's social structure.
Offred lives in the household of Commander Fred Waterford and his wife Serena Joy, a former television evangelist who ironically advocated for traditional gender roles before finding herself trapped by the very system she helped create. The house itself becomes a symbol of Offred's imprisonment, with its carefully maintained facade of normalcy masking the horror within. Every room holds significance: the sitting room where she waits for orders, the kitchen where she's forbidden to enter, and most ominously, the Commander's study and the bedroom where the monthly Ceremony takes place.
Daily Life and the Ceremony
Atwood meticulously details the suffocating routine that governs Offred's existence. Each day begins with prescribed prayers and continues with carefully regulated activities: shopping trips with her assigned partner Ofglen, visits to the Wall where executed dissidents hang as warnings, and the constant surveillance that makes genuine human connection nearly impossible. The shopping trips serve multiple purposes in the narrative〞they provide glimpses of the outside world, opportunities for covert communication, and stark reminders of how the regime controls even basic necessities.
The most harrowing aspect of Handmaid life is the monthly Ceremony, a ritualized rape disguised as a religious sacrament. During this event, Offred lies between Serena Joy's legs while the Commander attempts to impregnate her, a perverse interpretation of the biblical story of Rachel and Bilhah. Atwood's clinical description of this ceremony emphasizes its dehumanizing nature:
"We are supposed to be having a good time. This is supposed to be like fucking. I hate this word. I have to use it because that's what it is like, fucking. But there's no passion in it, no desire, only duty."
The psychological impact of this monthly violation weighs heavily on all three women involved, creating a complex dynamic of shared trauma, mutual resentment, and reluctant dependency. Serena Joy's bitterness stems from her inability to conceive, while Offred endures the physical and emotional assault of being reduced to a reproductive vessel. The Commander, meanwhile, represents the patriarchal system that views these arrangements as both necessary and natural.
Throughout these scenes, Offred's internal monologue reveals her coping mechanisms: dissociation during the Ceremony, the reconstruction of memories from her previous life, and the careful observation of details that maintain her sense of self. Her relationship with her former identity becomes a form of resistance, as she clings to memories of her husband Luke, her daughter Hannah, and her friend Moira as anchors to her humanity.
Relationships and Resistance
Despite the regime's efforts to isolate and control its subjects, human connections persist and become forms of quiet rebellion. Offred's relationship with her shopping partner Ofglen evolves from cautious politeness to dangerous solidarity when she discovers that Ofglen is part of an underground resistance movement called Mayday. Their coded conversations during shopping trips〞using approved phrases that carry hidden meanings〞demonstrate how resistance can flourish even under the most oppressive surveillance.
The relationship between Offred and the household's driver, Nick, develops into the novel's most significant emotional connection. Initially, their interactions are limited to meaningful glances and small gestures, but eventually, their relationship becomes both a source of genuine intimacy and a dangerous liaison that could result in death for both parties. Nick's ambiguous position〞possibly a spy for the regime, possibly a member of the resistance, or perhaps both〞adds complexity to their relationship and reflects the paranoia that permeates Gilead society.
Unexpectedly, Offred also develops a complicated relationship with the Commander himself, who begins requesting private meetings with her in his study. These encounters, which involve playing Scrabble and engaging in conversation, represent a different kind of transgression against Gilead's rules. The Commander's desire for intellectual companionship reveals the system's failure to satisfy even its architects, while Offred's participation demonstrates her willingness to exploit any opportunity for agency, however limited.
The most shocking of these private meetings occurs when the Commander takes Offred to Jezebel's, an underground club where women dress in pre-Gilead clothing and serve as prostitutes for the elite. This excursion exposes the hypocrisy at the heart of Gilead's moral rhetoric and provides Offred with a devastating reunion with her friend Moira, who has ended up trapped in this alternative form of sexual slavery. Moira's presence at Jezebel's represents the crushing of one of the novel's most defiant spirits, as she has been broken by the system and resigned to survival at any cost.
The Climax and Escape
The novel's tension reaches its peak when multiple plot threads converge to threaten Offred's survival. Ofglen's disappearance and replacement by a new Handmaid signals that the resistance network has been compromised. The new Ofglen's whispered warning〞"Don't trust anyone. They're watching"〞confirms Offred's worst fears about surveillance and betrayal. Simultaneously, Serena Joy discovers evidence of Offred's unauthorized meetings with the Commander, leading to a confrontation that places Offred in immediate danger.
The discovery comes in the form of a purple sequined costume from Jezebel's, which Serena Joy finds in Offred's room. This physical evidence of transgression represents not just rule-breaking but a fundamental violation of the social order that Serena Joy, despite her own frustrations, still believes in maintaining. Her rage is particularly intense because it combines personal betrayal with ideological offense〞Offred has not only deceived her but has also participated in the very kind of moral corruption that Gilead was supposedly created to eliminate.
As Offred faces the prospect of being declared an Unwoman and sent to the Colonies〞a death sentence disguised as relocation〞Nick approaches her with news of an escape opportunity. A black van arrives at the house, ostensibly sent by the Eyes (Gilead's secret police) to arrest her, but Nick claims the occupants are actually Mayday operatives who will help her escape. This moment crystallizes the novel's central theme of faith versus skepticism, as Offred must choose between the certainty of death if she stays and the uncertainty of what awaits if she goes.
The novel's ending is deliberately ambiguous. As Offred steps into the van, she reflects:
"And so I step up, into the darkness within; or else the light. Whether this is my end or a new beginning I have no way of knowing: I have given myself over into the hands of strangers, because it seemed my best hope."
This conclusion refuses to provide the resolution readers might expect, instead leaving Offred's fate uncertain and emphasizing the broader themes about the nature of hope, resistance, and survival under oppression. The ambiguity serves multiple narrative purposes: it maintains tension even after the story's apparent conclusion, reflects the uncertainty that characterizes life under totalitarian rule, and forces readers to confront their own desires for narrative closure and certainty.