[rating=7.00] “Jezebels”
After going off book last week to explore how Luke is still alive, The Handmaid’s Tale is back on track as we return to Offred’s story. This week takes us through one of the most iconic scenes from Margaret Atwood’s novel and gives us some more back story about how Gilead came to be. It was an episode churning with tension as the first season begins the process of wrapping up, and for the most part it worked well.
Offred’s relationship—inasmuch as you can call it that—with the commander is heading down a potentially darker territory; with Serena Joy out of town, Waterford gets even more bold with his connection to his handmaid, deciding to take her out for a night on the town. That’s a subjective idea, of course, given the context. Women are still restricted, and not exactly allowed to go into the city even in the presence of a commander. But hey, what’s a rule if it isn’t broken?
Waterford’s willingness to flaunt regulation is an interesting idea to explore—even in the strictest regimes, there seems to be an understanding that the rules aren’t exactly going to be followed. Gilead knows this all too well, and offers their high ranking authorities the opportunity to go against the godly aspirations that inspired their revolution.
Of course, it was never about god though, was it? Attempts at regulating morality rarely are, no matter what rhetoric is used. You get this impression even more during a flashback, as commander Waterford and two other Gileadean officials plan their righteous revolution. They cloak their talk with words like “scripture” but, in the end, it’s three men discussing how to legitimize keeping sex slaves in their houses. As contrite as they attempt to appear during their discussion, there’s a creepy vibe of excited glee in how they justify their plans, and in how they plan to justify them to their wives.
After a close encounter at a Guardian check point, Waterford and Offred arrive at a hotel in what used to be Boston and they are secreted into a back entrance—women aren’t allowed, he explains, giddy with the excitement of it all. Where they’re at is Jezebel’s, a men’s club, it’s billed as, but more of a brothel. An escape from the monotony of marriage and sex slaving for the Gileadean elite.
It’s a creepy pit of sex and debauchery, proving that no matter how righteously they package their intentions God is merely a packaging for plebeians. Offred is rightly aghast by what she sees and, in turn, what his bringing her here says about how he sees her. At Jezebel’s, there’s no attempt to keep the façade going; here, men are free to use women as mere objects. What does being brought to a brothel say about their relationship?
There’s a bit of unexpected light, however, when Offred sees Moira across the room. Her hasty escape at the train station didn’t go as well as planned, and she was caught once again. After being labeled a trouble maker, she was given a choice: she could go to the colonies, which is all but a death sentence, or sent to serve at here. Here, at least, she’s given food and the illusion of luxury. Still, that itself is revealing.
How many of these clubs exist across Gilead? Is there one in every city? There’s an implication that this is part of the Gileadean caste system—Wifes, Handmaids, Marthas, Aunts, and Jezebels. No matter where you turn in this godly, upright society, sex and pleasure are still controlled commodities. There is nothing Christian here.
Unfortunately, the excursion out has put a strain on the burgeoning relationship between Offred and Nick. Tinged with jealousy, and perhaps a bit of fear about getting caught (but mostly jealousy), Nick breaks off the affair with Offred, removing one of the last bits of happiness she’s found in her life. It’s devastating to watch as she comes to terms with her last bit freedom being taken away from here—in this new world, this was probably her last ever outlet for personal choice or freedom. Now, she is truly alone.
Speaking of Nick, another flashback shows us more of his backstory, which in turn gives us more insight into the world of Gilead. Before the revolution, he was just a guy who couldn’t keep a job. Family troubles interfered with work and no matter what he did he kept being fired. Far from being unsympathetic, his caseworker at an employment agency informs him of another, different opportunity.
Over coffee, the caseworker informs him of an organization that he belongs to that seeks to rid the world of the kind of problems now facing Nick and his family. It’s sold as an opportunity to maintain a good job and to help his loved ones. He’ll be given a job, respect, support. This is how fascism and authoritarianism begins. Promises to the hopeless create a groundswell of support, and they cling to whatever light they can. Show me an authoritarian regime, and I’ll show you a populace given false hope.
And it’s usually the men given promises. History has shown us this time and time again that once find the disaffected and disillusioned young men, and you’ve got the start of your regime. Germany, Cuba, Chile, Iran, ISIS—they’ve all got this in common. Hopefully this is a theme explored more fully as The Handmaid’s Tale continues.
With the promise of more seasons on the horizon, it’s a sure thing that they’ll continue to go off book as the story progresses. Most of the major events in Atwood’s novel have already been featured, but the climax still feels miles away. How much more will be explored? What subtext will be brought into the light? There’s only two episodes left in this inaugural season, and we’ll probably have a better idea of what to expect in the future as season one draws to a close.
