‘The Gaps Between Stories’ : Examining the Gray Area of Sexual Consent in The Handmaid’s Tale

Abstract: This project’s aim was to examine how the institutionalization of rape and sexual violence becomes problematic if analyzed through the conceptual lens of consent and complicity. After this close reading of consent and sexual violence, the answers are still not clear or easily discerned. A wish would be that the concept of consent is uncomplicated and apparent, but even the theory regarding consent is complex and disagreed upon. Beres stresses this complexity, which in many cases forces readers to rely on assumed definitions of consent (105). These conflicting definitions also need to be considered when examining consent in The Handmaid's Tale. Thus, the discourse regarding the gray area becomes highly important. In reality, it might be challenging to judge and convict a rapist and an abuser, and in the fictional world such as Atwood has created, men are not solely responsible for the victimization of women, which arguably mirrors what happens in the real world. This conflict opens up an array of difficulties regarding complicity and consent. Whether in the context of ‘good girls’ or ‘bad girls’, Handmaids or Wives, this project concludes that the categories which divide women into either victims or accomplices regarding concepts of consent are often shaped and controlled by men, essentially forcing women to operate within a constricted world constructed by a patriarchal society. As discussed throughout this project, the problem concerning consent resides in the gray area, and the inconsistency in Offred’s narrative makes her unreliable as an ideal example of trauma. Instead, she projects traumatic experiences, which at times appear deceptive. Her repeated complicity in aiding a patriarchal government’s continuous oppression against women creates a problematic space where sexual violence becomes debatable. However, after analyzing the novel, a conclusion could be made that the focus should not be on whether sexual violence occurring in a gray area of consent is harmful or not, and although we can distinguish unfair sex from sexual assault, this does not negate the fact that it is a socially destructive phenomenon (Cahill 758). Instead, what has been examined here and what should be further examined in the future are the structures and ideologies that problematize consent theory, such as Atwood does with Gilead’s theocratic ideology. Another valuable insight when reading Atwood’s novel is the revelation of complex structures and hierarchies within the feminist movement. Offred, along with other women in19the novel, challenges an often-stereotypical feminist image of women united to fight sexism and unequal rights. Thus, these characters represent a more accurate view of how men and women contribute to female oppression. In the novel, the commanders appear almost omniscient, their presence shaping and controlling the world that women inhabit, but they do their work from the shadows. Instead, women play an integral part in forming the misogynist structures and views that uphold female oppression, the Aunts perhaps the most. What is essential then to discern is why and how. Atwood herself, in an interview with PBS News Hour, refers to her novel as “speculative fiction” rather than science fiction, stating, “‘[i]t’s not me who has come up with it, it’s the human race over the past 4,000 years’” (Atwood). In The Handmaid’s Tale, the why and how are presented in an arguably hyperbolic way, but still, it strongly resonates with what has happened repeatedly throughout history and what was presumably happening during Atwood’s writing process. These conflicted strains within a movement as important as feminism are also vitally connected to the discourse surrounding consent. Suppose women do not comply or fall in line with patriarchal ideologies. In that case, the stigma surrounding rape might become reduced, and the parameters regarding consent might also be discussed more extensively since it profoundly affects how sexual violence is approached and handled. Lastly, as mentioned in the beginning, Cixous firmly states, “[w]oman must write woman” (877), and just as the fictional Offred writes her own story and becomes the voice for thousands of silent women, so must “real women” in order to reshape patriarchal structures and reevaluate what parts females inhabit when oppressive ideologies are taking over instead of remaining silent. It is silence, which makes Offred complicit in Janine’s abuse. It is silence, which makes her pursue a relationship with Nick, despite the threats to her safety, and it is silence that fuels the false sisterhood. Although readers are aware that women have little to no power in this novel, it is the silent culture in Gilead that serves as an example of the complex discourse surrounding consent, and it is how this concept is defined that remains highly important and invaluable when examining trauma narratives and sexual violence. No means no, and yes means yes, is the ideal definition of consent, but in Offred’s world, just as for many non-fictional women, this definition is simply a construction. It is in the gray area, in the gaps between stories, that consent and complicity shape the outcome of sexual violence.