Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale paints a chilling portrait of Gilead, a totalitarian society built upon a foundation of extreme social stratification. This hierarchy is not merely a consequence of power but a deliberately constructed system designed to control reproduction, maintain order, and enforce a rigid patriarchal ideology. At the apex of this pyramid are the Commanders and their Wives, followed by the fertile Handmaids, then the Martha's and Aunts, and finally, the Unwomen, serving as the societal dustbin. This essay will explore the distinct roles and functions of these stratified classes, demonstrating how their prescribed positions reinforce Gilead's oppressive structure and ultimately contribute to the subjugation of its female population.
The Commanders and their Wives occupy the highest echelons of Gildean society, representing the ruling elite. Commanders are the male heads of households, wielding absolute authority within their domestic spheres and, by extension, within the larger political structure. Their status is derived from their position of power and their ability to perpetuate the regime. Wives, though seemingly elevated by their association with Commanders, are largely ornamental figures, their worth intrinsically tied to their husband's status and their inability to bear children. Their lives are characterized by a performative piety and a fierce, often petty, competition for favour and social standing. The narrative often depicts their isolation and desperation, particularly in their dealings with Handmaids, whom they view as instruments of their own reproductive failure. For instance, Serena Joy, Fred’s wife, embodies this complex position; her past as a proponent of traditional values is ironically twisted into a means of controlling women, yet she remains dependent on a Handmaid to fulfill her own societal mandate.
Below the ruling class are the Handmaids, the most visible and arguably most crucial class in Gilead's reproductive economy. Their sole purpose is to bear children for the Commanders, a role dictated by the supposed fertility crisis. They are indoctrinated, stripped of their names, and given biblical appellations like Offred, signifying ownership. Their existence is a cycle of ritualized sexual servitude, emotional repression, and constant surveillance. Despite their crucial function, they are treated as little more than biological vessels, denied agency and individuality. The narrative highlights their internal struggles, their fleeting moments of rebellion, and their desperate search for connection, as seen in Offred's clandestine affair with Nick, the chauffeur, a forbidden act that momentarily reclaims a sense of personal choice. The ritualized "Ceremony," a monthly sexual act between Commander, Wife, and Handmaid, underscores their dehumanization, reducing procreation to a cold, mechanical process devoid of genuine intimacy.
The Martha's and Aunts form the intermediate strata, performing essential but less visible roles. Martha's are the domestic servants, the backbone of household management, akin to maids and cooks. They are older, often infertile women, or those deemed unsuitable for other roles, and are largely invisible to the ruling class, their lives marked by quiet drudgery and routine. While they possess a degree of community among themselves, their interactions with Handmaids are often functional, sometimes tinged with a weary understanding or outright suspicion. The Aunts, on the other hand, are enforcers of ideology. They are responsible for indoctrinating the Handmaids, ensuring their compliance through brutal methods, and maintaining the moral purity of the regime. Aunt Lydia, a particularly formidable figure, exemplifies this role, using a mixture of manipulative kindness and severe punishment to break the Handmaids' spirits, as she states, "We are the women who were not chosen... we were the ones who chose." This statement reveals the complex motivations and resentments that drive some within the Aunts' order.
At the absolute bottom of Gilead's social ladder are the Unwomen. These are individuals who, for various reasons—infertility, homosexuality, dissent, or past transgressions—are deemed unfit for Gildean society. They are exiled to the Colonies, toxic wastelands where they perform forced labor under inhumane conditions, their lives ultimately ending in slow, agonizing death. The threat of becoming an Unwoman serves as a powerful deterrent, enforcing conformity and obedience among all other classes. Moira's eventual fate, though not explicitly detailed as becoming an Unwoman, implies a similar degradation and loss of self, highlighting the ultimate consequence of failing to adhere to Gilead's rigid standards. The existence of the Unwomen solidifies the social order by providing a stark, terrifying example of what happens to those who deviate.
In conclusion, The Handmaid's Tale meticulously constructs a society defined by its rigid social stratification. From the ruling Commanders and their Wives to the reproductive Handmaids, the domestic Martha's and ideological Aunts, and finally the exiled Unwomen, each class is assigned a specific function that serves the overarching goals of the patriarchal regime. This stratification is not merely about social status; it is a fundamental mechanism for controlling women's bodies, enforcing ideological purity, and perpetuating Gilead's oppressive power structure. Atwood’s novel serves as a stark warning, illustrating how the deliberate division and subjugation of a population, particularly women, can lead to a profoundly dehumanizing and totalitarian state.