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The Testaments by Margaret Atwood

The Testaments (The Handmaid's Tale, #2)

The Testaments by Margaret Atwood

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


I have had complicated feelings about The Testaments ever since it was announced, ever since it was nominated for the Booker, ever since it shared the prize with Girl, Woman, Other, ever since all of this and more. It is not that I disliked it, nor that I did not want it, but rather I felt uncomfortable about the position it was coming to occupy in the world. I wondered if we were looking towards this to answer questions and to resolve issues in a way that we would not ask many other books to do and if, perhaps, we were reading more the cultural discourse about this book rather than the book itself. Messy thoughts, I know, but present and vital to acknowledge in my understanding of this book.

I came late to The Handmaid’s Tale, reading it after I had watched and loved the series itself. I am sometimes dazzled by visuals and the high art of the adaptation hit home for me in a way that the book never quite did. The Testaments feels like a book that would not have existed without the series, and it feels filmic and big and global in a way that the tight, claustrophic horror of The Handmaid’s Tale did not.

Is one of them then better than the other? I’m not sure, nor do I think that’s a useful rubric to apply. They are simply different and, I think in the case of the Testaments in particular, one could reach so far as to say that it is good but not particularly great. Parts of it feel rushed, parts of it feel strange, and the motivations of one of the big leads in it are difficult to manage or, at the least, understand.

Did I like it? I did, I think. It was alright. It was satisfying, though I do not think it was revelatory. And the ending felt too quick, too clearly obvious for the world that it lived in.

Like I said, I have complicated feelings about it.



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