Posts Tagged The Handmaid’s Tale
Have you ever read a book you liked so much you said to yourself (or to someone else), “I just couldn’t put it down”? You meant, of course, that you liked the book so much you kept reading even though you had other things to do, but couldn’t tear yourself away. I’ve read a few books like that, though most books I’ve read were of the “I can put this book down and get on with my life any time” type. Right now I’m reading a book that, at the very least, approaches that “couldn’t put it down” status, if it doesn’t stand squarely within it. The book is Margaret Atwood’s “The Handmaid’s Tale.” It was first published in 1986, but has gained some attention in the past few months because the repressive ultra-conservative society it portrays has struck some people as similar to the path our conservative government has begun to take us down. Whether that’s true or not, I leave to history to decide.
This blog post is not intended to be a review of the book, but rather a brief examination of the factors that contribute to the “couldn’t put it down” concept. What makes a book so good you enjoy reading it so much you’d rather read it than do something else? Many books I’ve read—in fact most—I could put down at almost any time, but “The Handmaid’s Tale” is too exciting to do that. The last book(s) that took my attention into the story to that degree were Connie Willis’s dual set about the Battle of Britain, “Blackout” and “All Clear,” even though I’ve read a number of other books in the meantime. Why should this be?
I think several things have to come together to contribute to a book to that extent. First, the writing. The writing has to be above reproach; smooth and free of points that take you away from the story. As you read, you’re immersed in the story, and nothing comes along that is unclear, unreadable, or varies from the author’s style. The English grammar is fundamentally impeccable. Actually, Ms. Atwood uses an inordinate number of commas, many in positions I wouldn’t, but that hasn’t seemed to bother me. Very early on I began to overlook them and haven’t looked back. The writing still flows in spite of them.
Second, the subject matter has to interest the reader, and more than to just a small degree. As I mentioned, our political climate today has induced some people to make comparisons between the book and the present government. I’m not sure I agree with them to the extreme extent they’re willing to go, but I can see their point. As a result, the book has aroused my attention and I want to see what all the fuss is about. I’m interested and want to know more. That’s the same reason I liked Connie Willis’s books; I have a great interest in World War II, and I enjoyed reading her take on it.
Third, I believe there is the undefinable. Everything “comes together” in these books. The writing, the subject, the author’s style—they all meld together to produce a book that for a few people becomes fascinating to the point of delight or enchantment. That’s good, but that’s not something that can be quantified or dissected. That situation is precisely what a writer wants to achieve. Really. I just hope my books reach that point for a few people.