Infectious Violence

Atwood’s description of the bodies in The Handmaid’s Tale utilizes metaphors and detailed imagery to enhance the lifeless nature, as well as providing a commentary on the impact of violence on an individual. Offred has been traumatized by the normalization of violence in Gilead, and it shows through the way she describes the bodies.
In chapter 6 of The Handmaid’s Tale, the reader is given their first detailed description of the bodies that are lined up on the wall; “It makes the men look like dolls on which their faces have not yet been painted; like scarecrows, which in a way is what they are, since they are meant to scare.” (32) The metaphor ‘like dolls on which their faces have not yet been painted’ particularly stuck out to me because it speaks to the mysteriousness of these dead bodies, how they are perceived by the public as messages of hate and violence. Their lives have already been taken, and furthermore their identities as well. Our facial features are what give us our unique liveliness; just like a doll with no paint, we are lifeless without them. When picturing a scarecrow I think of the coarse hay, creating a rough, and inhumanely straight posture. Offred, having witnessed violence in such a way, is now attributing their posture to something unalive as she takes in the gruesome display. These bodies that were hanging weren’t just left for dead, but pinned up as trophies to scare the public. Offred goes on to give us more descriptive narration, enhancing the reader’s perturbed emotional state, allowing us to view the bodies the same way as she, “The heads are the heads of snowmen, with the coal eyes and the carrot noses fallen out. The heads are melting.” (32) The word “melting” inflicts a vivid image for me; one of limp white fabric surrounding the faint outline of a lifeless head. Its distorted, missing crucial recognizable features - such as the coal eyes and carrot nose - similarly to the dead, having been executed and then stripped of their identity. Something I found interesting about this comparison to a snowman was the trivialness of it, comparing a dead body to a core childhood memory. It allowed me to put myself into Offred’s shoes, transporting me back to a time when metaphors clouded my head, protecting me from what my eyes were ingesting. When I was 10 years old, I can vividly remember being exposed to death - the harsh, gory realities of it. I was scrolling on my shattered iphone 6. A bright green bar ran through the middle of it, distorting my view slightly. Though it didn’t stop me from stumbling across a comment section full of scarred teens. They were gossiping about the initial shock, comments flooded my screen warning me not to look, but it only enticed me more. Similarly to Offred I was unable to look away. I copied one of the top comments containing a link, pasting it into my private browser - I was young, yet had enough sense to cover my tracks. The screen transitioned from dark to light, flashing a dancing girl in a school uniform. She looked young, too young. I later found out she was the same girl in what I was about to watch. The video then cut to a low quality clip of 4 boys surrounding a girl. I couldn’t make out her face, only a blob of tan colored flesh was discernable. They were holding her, two had her arms, another by her neck. Before I knew it blood-red pixels flooded the screen. I didn’t know what was happening - but almost on cue, the resolution cleared. I vividly remember the way her head hung low, having been severed by a small knife, wielded by the vile boys. It reminded me of the way my kindergarten teacher used to do yoga with us. I exhaled softly, mimicking the voice of my teacher in the back of my head, my eyes were still glued to the cracked screen. It was the most horrific act of violence I had ever seen, yet my brain transported me to a moment of serene. After the breath was over, though, I threw my phone across the room and curled up in a ball, clutching my knees to my chest - I couldn’t sleep for weeks after without dreaming about the young girl. I think I was particularly drawn to this section because of how descriptive it was. Offred is visibly impacted, merely by the way she attributes childish metaphors such as the melting snowman, comforting - yet twisted. I too have become desensitized to violence, witnessing it on social media from a young age, and I believe it has shaped the way I am able to write and think. It has caused me to scour my brain for the right things to describe exactly what I am seeing, almost as a way of coping.