My Atwood Project, Part 19: The End

Well, I did it, I finished the project: I read or re-read all of Margaret Atwood’s published novels and short stories/short fiction. I read one of her children’s books, too, and some of the non-fiction.

What did I come away with? An even greater admiration for this great writer. I noticed repetition of motifs -- love triangles, lukewarm mothers, political unrest, evil aunts -- but I never got bored. (And let me tell you, I do get bored when a writer repeats the same motifs ad nauseam, like John Irving with his never-ending bears and prostitutes…) 

I found each novel fresh and original. 

I found that most of the traditional short stories (as opposed to the experimental short fiction) felt like the seed of a potential novel.

I found concern for our planet, and humanity as a whole, but especially for women. 

I found clever wordsmithing. 

I found stories nested inside of stories.

I’ve been asked about my favorites. I would have to say the first two books of the MaddAddam trilogy: Oryx and Crake, and The Year of the Flood, because of the detailed worldbuilding and three-dimensional characters. Atwood’s speculations are founded in real science, making the series scary in a too-close-to-home way. Why these over The Handmaid’s Tale? The explorations of the variety of ways of living in this not-too-far-off future are more interesting to me than the frighteningly flat future of The Handmaid’s Tale, though I confess Gilead is probably just as likely. 

If you are not into sci-fi, I would recommend The Blind Assassin, which won her first Booker prize. This is probably the most densely layered story-within-a-story narrative, with a twist on the love triangle that I won’t spoil for you. Or if you're a Shakespeare fan, Hag-Seed is a must.

Would I do it again? Yes. This time I would read it all in chronological order, as I set out to do, rather than grouping the two series (The Handmaid's Tale and MaddAddam) together.

I went on to read a couple of books that Atwood mentioned in the memoir. Alice Munro's Lives of Girls and Women (1971) is a connected series of episodes about a girl growing up in rural Canada. I didn't find it as engaging as Atwood’s work, in part because the chapters are very long, but I do see a similarity to Atwood’s eccentric mother figures, and the girlhood friendships that fade and rekindle. I can also identify with the smart young college-bound woman who lets hormones make decisions for her. 

I’m currently reading Ways of Telling (2026) by Xandra Bingley, a publishing professional who became a friend of Atwood’s after finding her a place to stay during her travels to the UK. Atwood writes the introduction here, trying her best to describe the nearly indescribable prose of these short narrative pieces. So far, they all have unconventional punctuation or very little punctuation at all, which makes reading them like drinking from a hose, or listening to multiple conversations in a crowded restaurant.

Next up: my reflections on several different guided journals.