As I read A.G., I felt I was climbing into good literature and anticipated that kind of peculiar heady satisfaction. However, I had NOT looked forward to reading this particular Atwood book as I had slowly become disillusioned with her futuristic stuff (not ever a fan of the “future”) and with some volumes of poetry I’d recently read. I believe it was Atwood’s writing and the tension she weaves in and out that built the anticipation in me as I flipped rather carelessly through the opening pages, then was hooked in to this woman’s life, whom I could not understand. (Whew. Long sentence.)Grace is always just out of reach. Many times Atwood has me sympathizing with her as I think I’m watching a Thomas Hardy character pushed around by a careless universe. But, then, Atwood slips in vague details that make me feel uncomfortable about my own perception. I cannot trust Grace: News articles, pieces of the trial, images of her glee over stealing the dresses–nothing I can name directly, but I begin to feel deceived by my own gullibility–after all, this is a murderess. But, her long internment in disgusting conditions, her peculiar insanity, her manipulations to improve her conditions (wouldn’t we do the same?) still fascinate me. But, is her insanity calculated? I don’t think so. Is she a temptress? I see her rather as a woman, who is more illiterate and dense than I want to admit, living in a purely survival mode. After a while, not even her insanity is complicated–it’s simply a removal from a world that never gives her much, so she snatches what she can like a sneaky, guilty child–at times, even like an animal trying to exist. In the end I saw her as a weak woman who never has the intelligence or will to shape her own life, so she floats, which, Atwood says eventually yields to the pull of gravity–downward. Thus, I can forgive her actions much more than I can Jordon’s. Atwood builds him as intelligent enough to know better. He can choose not to slide into slime. He has the discipline to obtain much knowledge, which we both know does not come easy, but he slides just the same. Where’s the redemption in this book? I, also, felt disappointed, Trevor. From just after the story switches to focus more on Dr. Jordan’s dinky little room (more of a prison than Grace’s literal prison), I felt the energy drain from the book, almost like Atwood just got tired of writing it. I don’t know. It does stay with me though, which I wonder over, and I do admire the choice of such a strange subject: she writes about a woman whom I refused to believe was slightly dim-witted and manipulative until the end. (I thought she was naive like a child through the first half of the book. Atwood’s genius of complications?) She writes of a doctor who is more insane than those he tends because he spends so much energy hiding it from himself and the world–until it cracks him open. Grace’s insanity is not as dangerous as his.
I look forward to Atwood publishing more books. But, I’m hoping the bitterness and anger of her latest poetry will not intrude.