Offred and Teresa Mendoza and Serena Joy. All women in a world constructed by, and almost completely for, men. They all have their role. Offred is for reproduction. Teresa is a narco's woman. Serena Joy runs the household.
They live and yet they don't. They live in the biological sense. A heart beats, eyes see, ears hear. The latter two are not supposed to happen. They play prescripted roles. They have no freedom of choice--is this the same as to say they don't live?
Offred tried to run. She was with her man and her daughter and fake passports. I don't know what happened to her--I'm only on chapter 16.
I'm on chapter four with Teresa Mendoza. She is running to beat hell. She's got a gun and her man left her some cash and she's got a fake passport (what does it say that a fake passport is so important for these women?) and she's got another man, it seems like he's got the power of a god, helping her. Sounds like she's getting on a a plane for Spain. Plane for Spain. Plain for Spain. Is she the lucky one?
Serena Joy is not running. This is what we fought for, she says. I said before that the worlds were constructed by men but that's not completely true, Serena Joy fought for Gilead. Just like any progress by the powerless must be aided and abetted by some of the powerful, so must oppression must be aided and and abetted by the active acquiescence of some of the oppressed. Pretty much everyone feels sorry for Offred and Teresa Mendoza. With Serena Joy, opinion is split. She is a woman suffering under the patriarchy, her sympathizers will point out. Fuck her. She ushered in the patriarchy, her detractors will say. Karma's a bitch.
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Unless Gilead is militarily defeated, Offred and Serana Joys' destinies are sealed. Their lives are secure but lethally monotonous. Offred either will, or will not, bear children and then be put out to pasture in the Colonies. Serena Joy will while away her days having Guardians do her gardening for her, designing the sitting room, until she dies.
With Teresa Mendoza, on the other hand, everything is up in the air. There are many people (men) trying to find her, and shoot her. Will she make it to D.F.? Will she get on a plane to Spain (plane to Spain, plane to Spain)? If she gets there, what will she do? It is plain (plane) events will unfold; three hundred pages remain to be read.
If you had to choose, who would you be? A woman imprisoned but guaranteed (natural) life, or a woman on the run, hoping to cheat death?
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A few weeks ago, I was at a party on a sun-drenched deck, and for a while I was the only man in a group of around ten females. Their conversation turned to high school stories, some of which centered around the banal competition girls (women?) engaged in for the same boy (man?). I remembered a night, twenty-some years ago, drinking with my sisters, telling them, Out of 200 guys in this high school, I can think of maybe five that are worth your time. My thoughts were broken by a burst of laughter and and I heard my name.
"Look at Mark," they were saying. "He doesn't know what to think about all this."
"On the contrary," I said. "I know men, way better than any of you will. We are idiots. I have never understand why the hell women would fight over a man. None of us are worth it--not one single one of us."
The ladies laughed and cheered and I think I heard an "Amen!". And I smiled because I was joking and so were they. But I wasn't really joking, you know? Not really.
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