Margaret Atwood suddenly changes the focus of her writing at the end of the novel. The climax built up in section fifteen turns abruptly into the parody of a scholarly symposium. One is told that Gilead is now the subject of historical study; Atwood has ingeniously caused the responder to think of the symposium as the actual story of the text, and to conceive of Offred’s story as more legitimate. By removing the Handmaid from the spotlight, it is possible to more closely identify with her.
Pieixoto is concerned only with the problem of verification of authenticity. He complains that there is no name appended to Offred’s story, and thus cautions his audience to regard the story less seriously. He grumbles,
’Offred’ gives no clue [to finding the identity of the Handmaid], since, like ‘Ofglen’ and ‘Ofwarren,’ it was a patronymic, composed of the possessive preposition and the first name of the gentleman in question. Such names were taken…and relinquished
but he does not understand why it is not possible for Offred to include her original name. In the main text, it is frequently stressed that Gilead is a nation which suppresses all individuality, and it is against the ideology to have a name. One can observe firstly that all physical uniqueness of the Handmaids is removed by the use of uniform. Offred remarks that she sees herself surrounded by a sea of red, “A Sister dipped in blood.” This is imagery of a nunnery, where all physical uniqueness is disposed of by the habit, in The Handmaid’s Tale, of red colour. Secondly, emotional distinctiveness is also disallowed; the Handmaids do not have feelings and opinions. The Red Centre is so successful in distorting its Handmaids’ views that Offred marvels, “It has taken so little time to change our minds, about things like this.” This dehumanisation of society makes the concept of a name as a tag to identity unthinkable. Pieixoto does not observe that however much Gilead is efficient in its oppression of its population, it cannot obliterate Offred’s will to exist independently of mindless orthodoxy. “Gilead is within you”, the protagonist is often told. She recognises that she does not have the liberty to retain her original name, but she does so nonetheless. Her name
isn’t Offred, I have another name,…I tell myself it doesn’t matter, your name is like your telephone number, useful only to others; but what I tell myself is wrong, it does matter…I think of this name as buried. This name has an aura around it, like an amulet, some charm that’s survived from an unimaginably distant past…the name floats there behind my eyes, not quite within reach, shining in the dark.
This refusal to conform to Gilead’s practices is itself a recognition of Offred’s individuality. Despite her submission into various demeaning physical acts such as the Ceremony, her thought still betrays her unorthodoxy. After Professor Pieixoto’s refusal, or perhaps inability, to acknowledge Offred’s identity without a proper name, the reader is forced to contemplate more of these issues, and is brought to a clearer understanding of them. Pieixoto’s indifference to these matters only makes Offred’s vivid portrait of life in Gileadean society more evocative, especially on the issue of identity.
