Dreams to Come: Where is Serena Going From Here?
We've all met her. She'll call you crying, recounting her last fight with her boyfriend. He'd drink, storm out, then come home smelling like another woman. She'd have her life planned out, the exact shade of white for their picket fence, her career, and their kids' names. If she could only do better, get him to stop drinking, and prove her worth. You'd tell her to hit the road and find a place of her own. She'd be so much happier with someone else, or with nobody at all. She didn't need him. She'd agree, nod along, and talk about how it probably would be better if he was out of her life. Then his carlights would show up in her driveway, and she'd have to go. She'd hang up, fight some more, and call you the next evening, ready to tell you what happened when he got home from the bar. Who are we to blame someone like that? The best of us have entered into a toxic relationship, and bad love is so hard to walk away from. It might be irritating, getting those calls every night, urging your friend to leave. But it's human nature. We develop a sense of loyalty towards those who treat us the worst. But what if she was a terrible person? A slave owner or the philosophical founder of a theocratic regime, and you were her handmaid or her martha, offering her a drink late at night, or withstanding a visit from her in your room? Would you still feel bad if her husband was abusive? Would it sting just as much seeing her beaten and yelled at? From a detached perspective, it's easy to say that it wouldn't, but in Gilead all women are second-class citizens--subhuman, seen as stupid and frivolous. They have no choice when it comes to their future or their circumstances, even as wives. There's no such thing as bodily autonomy. What he wants, he gets, whether she wants it herself or not; that's the case in the bedroom, in the kitchen--in every aspect of life, and abuse is the norm. That's on top of a long list of societal prejudices and pseudo-scientific biases, destroying their self-confidence and forcing them to accept that they are in fact inferior. How do you look at a wife, even one as cruel as Serena, and not feel a flash of pity? We could say that we wouldn't, but if we were face to face with that level of oppression, things could get complicated. We are talking about someone who wasn't allowed to read or write. She had duties to perform. Her free time was confined to a short menu of government-approved activities, and she wouldn't be allowed to leave--even after years of infidelity and beatings. In truth, wives are slaves just like handmaids and marthas. They're trapped and forced to work. They're monitored and belittled. They're certainly not protected. Guardians could hurt them. Their husbands treated them like property. Just like with Rita, someone could've cracked Serena's jaw and nobody would have even flinched.
