The Testaments (Review)

Fandoms complain about waiting for the next in a series a year away. But it’s been 34 years since The Handmaid’s Tale was released, and original fans have been waiting all this time to learn what went down in Gilead.

“As they say, history does not repeat itself, but it rhymes.”

Luckily for me, I only read The Handmaid’s Tale, for the first time, a year ago, after binge-watching the oh-so-good Hulu Series adaptation. But that didn’t stop The Testaments from being my most anticipated book of the year.

Set 15 years after the events of The Handmaid’s Tale, The Testaments follows three new perspectives: a woman who helped make Gilead happen, a girl who grew up with Gilead safely on the other side of the Canadian border, and a girl who has only ever known Gilead. 

Stepping back into Gilead elicits a feeling like a good crossover episode of two of your favorite shows; so much familiarity and opportunity for a host of Easter eggs, but only to those who know the world and the characters already.

Returning to such a dark world sounds less than enjoyable, but I loved getting back into it. I felt quickly submerged in the story as all the questions and unknowns left unanswered from The Handmaid’s Tale began to be explained at last. Finally, we get the resolution to the ambiguity of June’s story that so many readers were sure to have been wishing for so long.

Which…inevitably felt like a guilty pleasure, something I wasn’t ever supposed to have. Like asking “but what really happened” in your book group or English class or author talk when you know full well that the intent is not to know, to be left to wonder and decipher, to revel in the absolute possibilities which are available. And then, even though part of you wants that concrete answer, and hopes for it (even as you know you’ll never get it) it’s handed over just like that.

“The truth can cause a lot of trouble for those who are not supposed to know it.” 

Part of the major success and pull of The Handmaid’s Tale is its elusiveness. The writing style is simple, yet beautiful, giving you only the barest details, and leaves you wondering. The addictiveness of it comes in the way the horrors of Gilead are revealed to the reader bit by bit in somewhat out-of-order context until you finally realize how truly terrible it is. And even then, we don’t know the whole of it, because we only get the little slice of life that is June’s reality.

June is an interesting character on her own: an unreliable narrator who is trying to remember what is true to the best of her ability, and who is, above all, extremely passive. Her story is so interesting because she’s not, in fact, a hero, but the vessel through which we receive the story of what Gilead is. She makes questionable decisions, proves over and over that she is next to powerless and does not really try to be more so, and ends up relying on others and a mad hope for any salvation. She barely even has enough will left in her to survive, let alone do anything of note to change the world she lives in. She’s not meant to be likable, but rather understandable, relatable, and realistic. Her inability to be strong proves just how much the world has broken her. Her passivity in this context is just as original as the idea of Gilead itself; usually, we would need a hero to lead us through such a dark dystopia but we get June instead, making a far different story.

 From the onset, we already know enough about Gilead when we start The Testaments that it’s just not going to be as shocking as the first time. But then, the abstractness of The Handmaid’s Tale is not only forsaken but somewhat taken away by all of the reveals in The Testaments. Even though it feels good to finally learn the truth, it no longer seems as meaningful and ends up creating something rather plain in comparison. The writing style is still clean and beautiful, but the originality and open-ended nature of the first book are no longer there. The characters are fully realized, almost too realized when held up next to June, with more classic character arcs. 

On its own, The Testaments would be a great book, a story of a revolution that, although familiar, is admittedly very well done here. But when held in comparison to a modern classic (as it can’t help but be) it’s altogether too..regular, and becomes pretty predictable for those who have read Handmaid’s Tale. It does not elicit the wonder, emotion, and surprise that The Handmaid’s Tale did. The shoes were just too big to fill.

“Once a story you’ve regarded as true has turned false, you begin suspecting all stories.” 

I have to agree with early reviewers that this book, while a pleasure to have and hold, felt entirely unnecessary. I honestly loved reading The Testaments, but in an indulgent way, like eating an extra piece of cake when you’ve already had two; it tastes good, and it feels good but you know you really shouldn’t have it. The Handmaid’s Tale is such a special book, and The Testaments feels like (albeit extremely well-written) fanfiction in comparison. And for that, I rated it 3.5 out of 5 stars.