Most people I know hate reading the epilogues of books. They are boring. They are too abstract. They are too confusing- why not just make the epilogue the final chapter? However, the very fact that epilogues are set apart from the rest of the book is what makes them meaningful. They provide closure, finality, and, in many cases, a glimmer of hope.
Take Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale, for example. In the land of Gilead, women are treated as slaves, forced into subjugation and sexual submission. Scarcely any healthy babies are born, as a result of a human-caused environmental disaster. Rich men attempt to impregnate their women, or their "handmaids." And those who do not succeed in birthing the new generation? They are sent, out of sight, out of the way, to spend the remainder of their short lives with the other "failures" of Gileadean society- the rebels- and clean up radioactive waste. The protagonist in The Handmaid's Tale is a woman known only as "Offred" which means "Of Fred." The handmaids are known solely as vessels that carry babies, possessions and objects of the men they serve.
Such a world does, indeed, sound irrevocably bleak. In fact, when the hit Hulu show based on Atwood's novel debuted last year, it was an instant success, and yet, too disturbing for some to see. I know people who have viewed the show avidly and still others who could not, and cannot, bring themselves to watch. For both groups, The Handmaid's Tale, is, if not eerily reminiscent of the age we are living in, a dark foreshadowing of the future we are speeding toward at an exponential rate. The parallels are too obvious to be ignored. A group takes over the country (without the support of the majority of the population); said group has religious ties. This group (be it the Sons of Jacob or the alt-right that's currently on the rise) uses religion as a rationale to govern women's roles in society. In Gilead, women are not considered independent beings capable of financial responsibility. In the United States, women's bodies are continually being policed. The similarities go on and on and on, from teetering at the precipice of environmental oblivion to a government based on fear, not facts, to a dearth of diversity (or at least the recognition of diversity). Gilead was built out of the ruins of the United States, after all.
I haven't seen the television show, and, especially since it is ongoing, I don't have any idea how it will end. But people who have read the book (which is few compared to those who have watched the show) are not caught up in the same furor of frenzy as those who have solely viewed the television adaptation. Of course, when I say people who have read the book, I mean people who have read the entire book- including the epilogue. For while the actual book concludes with Offred boarding a bus in the midst of night, not knowing if salvation or desperation awaits her, the epilogue creates an entirely different picture.
In it, a group of intellectuals is discussing Offred's tapes. They note the demise of the apparently short lived Gileadean society and the return to "normalcy", indicating that the values in the new society are not aligned with the meninist and religious ones of Gilead. Although we only see post-Gilead in the succinct epilogue, it still gives us hope that chaos and oppression will be followed by peace and stability.
Another book that is oft-compared to today is George Orwell's infamous 1984. While The Handmaid's Tale depicts basic rights being stripped, 1984 goes a step further and describes a world where everybody follows the same rules and says the same things. They have lost not only their freedom, but their individual will, their spirit, their ability to rebel. Citizens are trapped in the conformist world of Oceania, where, as Orwell so eloquently puts it, "Big Brother is watching."
In 1984, fear is associated with desirable leadership. Fear inspires respect, power, and submission. The inhabitants of Oceania fear the propaganda tool "Big Brother," who is nothing but a nationalist prop intended to keep them both patriotic and idiotic (by which I mean unaware, and content with their ignorance). The government changes reality on a daily basis, because, apparently, news is fake and facts are fake. Ring any bells?
And yet, like The Handmaid's Tale, the end of 1984 provides hope at a return to regularity. While not explicitly stating that Oceania, Eurasia, and Eastasia come to an end, the appendix details every rule of Newspeak (the language promoted by the Oceanian government). The Newspeak is explained in Oldspeak (what we currently speak), which hints that, after the events of the novel occur, there are at least a few people who keep the vestiges of the old society alive. Since all we have to support this inference is the somewhat vague appendix, it is unclear if Oldspeak /old culture is being preserved by a select minority or if the Orwellian society has disintegrated altogether.
What comes after the final chapter is, for many dystopian novels, the most crucial part of the whole book. For those who are terrified that we are currently living in a Philip K Dick or Roth nightmare- it will get better. Right now it might seem as though the saga of America is drawing to a close, and perhaps this chapter is. But unhappily ever after won't last forever.
What happens after 1984? I don't know when exactly, but eventually, we'll reach 1985.
Take Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale, for example. In the land of Gilead, women are treated as slaves, forced into subjugation and sexual submission. Scarcely any healthy babies are born, as a result of a human-caused environmental disaster. Rich men attempt to impregnate their women, or their "handmaids." And those who do not succeed in birthing the new generation? They are sent, out of sight, out of the way, to spend the remainder of their short lives with the other "failures" of Gileadean society- the rebels- and clean up radioactive waste. The protagonist in The Handmaid's Tale is a woman known only as "Offred" which means "Of Fred." The handmaids are known solely as vessels that carry babies, possessions and objects of the men they serve.
Such a world does, indeed, sound irrevocably bleak. In fact, when the hit Hulu show based on Atwood's novel debuted last year, it was an instant success, and yet, too disturbing for some to see. I know people who have viewed the show avidly and still others who could not, and cannot, bring themselves to watch. For both groups, The Handmaid's Tale, is, if not eerily reminiscent of the age we are living in, a dark foreshadowing of the future we are speeding toward at an exponential rate. The parallels are too obvious to be ignored. A group takes over the country (without the support of the majority of the population); said group has religious ties. This group (be it the Sons of Jacob or the alt-right that's currently on the rise) uses religion as a rationale to govern women's roles in society. In Gilead, women are not considered independent beings capable of financial responsibility. In the United States, women's bodies are continually being policed. The similarities go on and on and on, from teetering at the precipice of environmental oblivion to a government based on fear, not facts, to a dearth of diversity (or at least the recognition of diversity). Gilead was built out of the ruins of the United States, after all.
I haven't seen the television show, and, especially since it is ongoing, I don't have any idea how it will end. But people who have read the book (which is few compared to those who have watched the show) are not caught up in the same furor of frenzy as those who have solely viewed the television adaptation. Of course, when I say people who have read the book, I mean people who have read the entire book- including the epilogue. For while the actual book concludes with Offred boarding a bus in the midst of night, not knowing if salvation or desperation awaits her, the epilogue creates an entirely different picture.
In it, a group of intellectuals is discussing Offred's tapes. They note the demise of the apparently short lived Gileadean society and the return to "normalcy", indicating that the values in the new society are not aligned with the meninist and religious ones of Gilead. Although we only see post-Gilead in the succinct epilogue, it still gives us hope that chaos and oppression will be followed by peace and stability.
In 1984, fear is associated with desirable leadership. Fear inspires respect, power, and submission. The inhabitants of Oceania fear the propaganda tool "Big Brother," who is nothing but a nationalist prop intended to keep them both patriotic and idiotic (by which I mean unaware, and content with their ignorance). The government changes reality on a daily basis, because, apparently, news is fake and facts are fake. Ring any bells?
And yet, like The Handmaid's Tale, the end of 1984 provides hope at a return to regularity. While not explicitly stating that Oceania, Eurasia, and Eastasia come to an end, the appendix details every rule of Newspeak (the language promoted by the Oceanian government). The Newspeak is explained in Oldspeak (what we currently speak), which hints that, after the events of the novel occur, there are at least a few people who keep the vestiges of the old society alive. Since all we have to support this inference is the somewhat vague appendix, it is unclear if Oldspeak /old culture is being preserved by a select minority or if the Orwellian society has disintegrated altogether.
What comes after the final chapter is, for many dystopian novels, the most crucial part of the whole book. For those who are terrified that we are currently living in a Philip K Dick or Roth nightmare- it will get better. Right now it might seem as though the saga of America is drawing to a close, and perhaps this chapter is. But unhappily ever after won't last forever.
What happens after 1984? I don't know when exactly, but eventually, we'll reach 1985.
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