Quote:
Originally Posted by Hamlet53
I hear you on that. So much so that I'm leery of commenting for saying something inappropriate outside the P&R forum.
I not so long ago read this again. The previous time was way back when it was first published. Probably age catching up with me, but the ending seemed to be different than what I recalled. The previous remembered was much bloodier yet optimistic than the actual.
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I didn't remember the epilogue either; perhaps I supressed the memory because I thought it was terrible. It significantly undermined the impact of the book.
I'm not saying all epilogues are bad, but I view them with suspicion. Too often, they're a result of a failure of the author to get everything she wanted in the body of her text or her desire to control an outcome outside the story at hand. In this case, both.
It doesn't matter to the story how the Republic of Gilead came about. Learning of an assassination after the fact adds nothing. It only matters that the premise is reasonably plausible. Info dumps at the end of a story are even more leaden than at the beginning.
It also doesn'tt matter what happens after the end of the narrative or how the narrative came about. Perhaps it was a memoir of sorts, as it was presented. But perhaps it was an interrogation. Why not leave it open-ended? It would have been far creepier and menacing. But instead, cassette tapes, footlocker, old tech, blah blah blah. It's like the end of Psycho; it totally takes you out of the mood.
So, in the future, women will be restored their rights as will minorities and the Republic of Gilead will be a matter for academic inquiry. But why does Atwood have to limit the possibilities? What about the Orwellian, "If you want a vision of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face - forever." Instead, Gilead is just a blip. In her assertion of control over the imaginations of her readers, Atwood undermined her own narrative. I don't get that choice.