Does Serena Die In Handmaid's Tale Book
Alright, let's dive into the sometimes wild, sometimes heartbreaking world of The Handmaid's Tale, specifically focusing on a character many of us can't help but root for: Serena Joy. Now, you might be wondering, as you're flipping through Atwood's brilliant (and let's be honest, a bit terrifying) book, "Does Serena actually kick the bucket?" It's a question that pops into the heads of many readers, especially after all the drama she dishes out.
Here's the scoop, and try not to let the big, dramatic pronouncements fool you: Serena Joy Waterford does not die in the book. Nope. She's still very much alive and kicking when the final pages of The Handmaid's Tale are turned. This might come as a surprise to some, considering how much she’s involved in the oppressive system of Gilead. She’s the wife, the one who's supposed to be in charge, but also somehow trapped by the very rules she helped create. Talk about a tangled web!
Think about it: Serena, in her own way, is a survivor. She’s a woman who, in the "before times," was a powerful figure, a speaker, someone with influence. Then, Gilead happened, and her role shifted. She’s still powerful, yes, but it's a twisted kind of power, one built on the suffering of others. And in the book, that complex, often contradictory existence continues. She doesn't get a neat, tidy ending where she's removed from the picture. Instead, she’s left to grapple with the consequences of her choices, much like everyone else in that messed-up society.
It’s easy to get caught up in the desire for justice, and for many of us, that means seeing characters like Serena face a definitive downfall. We want to see the architects of such a cruel world brought low. But Margaret Atwood, the master storyteller she is, doesn't always give us the easy answers. And that's part of what makes her work so enduring.
Instead of a dramatic death scene, what we get with Serena is a more subtle, and perhaps more chilling, continuation. She’s left in a position where she has to live with the reality of what she helped build. Imagine being the one who helped draw up the blueprints for a house that turns out to be a prison, and then having to live in it yourself. That’s kind of the vibe.
One of the most interesting things about Serena is her ambition and her fierce desire for control. She wants a child, desperately. She wants to be seen and respected. And in Gilead, she's given a platform to exert her will, but it's a warped platform. She’s constantly trying to manipulate situations, to get what she wants, often at Offred's expense. But even in her ruthlessness, there are moments where you can almost see a flicker of the woman she used to be, a woman who, in her own way, might have also felt stifled by the old world.
Her relationship with The Commander is another fascinating, albeit disturbing, element. They’re supposed to be a united front, the perfect Gilead couple, but underneath the surface, there’s a lot of tension. He’s the one with the official power, but she's the one who often pulls the strings in their domestic sphere. It’s a constant power struggle, and it’s anything but heartwarming. But it is, in a twisted way, a very human dynamic, even if it's playing out in a deeply inhuman system.
So, when you’re reading and feeling that surge of anger or frustration at Serena's actions, take a breath. Remember that her story, and the story of Gilead, is far from over within the pages of the book. Her continued existence, and the complexities that come with it, are a crucial part of Atwood's message. It's not just about the big, dramatic moments; it's about the slow, insidious ways that people adapt, survive, and even thrive in broken systems.
The book leaves us with Serena still very much a part of the narrative, still a force to be reckoned with. And perhaps, in a way, that's more impactful than a swift exit. It forces us to confront the lingering presence of those who perpetuate oppressive systems, and the enduring struggle for those who are oppressed. It’s a reminder that the fight for a better world is rarely neat and tidy, and that the characters who embody the darkness often stick around, forcing us to keep watching, to keep hoping for change.
So, no, Serena Joy doesn't die in the book. She lives to see another day in Gilead, and that, in itself, is a story worth exploring. It’s a testament to Atwood's skill that she can create characters who are so detestable, yet so central to the narrative, and keep us hooked, even when we’re desperately wishing for a different outcome.