Written by the renowned Canadian author, Margaret Atwood, at the turn of the millennium, The Blind Assassin won both the Booker and Hammett Prize, despite a lengthy list of harsh criticisms. Atwood is perhaps best known for her 1986 novel, The Handmaid’s Tale. A dystopic nightmare about the loss of a woman’s right to her own body and selfhood, The Handmaid’s Tale was adapted into an extremely successful television series on Hulu in 2017.
Truncated by newspaper articles dedicated to the lives and deaths of the Chase/Griffen dynasty, The Blind Assassin follows Iris Chase-Griffen as she reveals the troubled past which leads to her sister’s untimely death. Within the pages of her family epic, is tucked yet another story, that of ‘The Blind Assassin’. Attributed to Iris’s enigmatic sister Laura, ‘The Blind Assassin’ is the tale of two unnamed lovers secretly meeting in various seedy rooms. Together they invent the science fiction account of a blind carpet-maker turned assassin who chooses to save a mute, sacrificial beauty. It’s only as Iris’s own story ends that we uncover the horrific truth binding the secret lovers, aging woman, and dea author.
While Atwood’s artistry makes all of her novels a worthwhile read, The Blind Assassin is certainly not an easy read. Any attempts at momentum are blocked by the novel-with-in-a novel structure and jumping timelines. It’s only in the final pages, when the dark strand connecting Laura, Iris and the lovers is revealed, that every page before gains full significance. By then, of course, the novel has been read and only the reader can decide if the mysterious revelation warrants another perusal of the material.
The science fiction sections of The Blind Assassin clearly benefit from Atwood’s established talent for speculative fiction. Meant to mirror the pulp-era science fiction of the 1930s, these stories are small treats tucked three levels within the novel. Often, they serve as a respite from the gritty realism of Iris’s life in the
Although Laura, the tragic and eccentric wraith who drives her car off a bridge 10 days after the war’s end, floats through most of the novel’s narrative lines, she remains ever out of understanding’s reach. Even so, the borderline supernatural particularities of her life and the mysterious circumstances of her death make her as fascinating to the reader as to the fictional women’s studies majors who flock yearly to her grave. She is a ghost haunting the pages of Atwood’s novel. An apparent need to capture, see, and understand Laura propels the fragmented tale; nevertheless it is Iris, struggling with the weight of her past and the dread of her future, who is ultimately asking to be seen.
Rebelling against a crumbling frame and failing heart, Iris mounts a battle against the greatest enemy of all: time. Her memoir is the story of a woman shaped by the men whose expectations she was unable to fulfill. First, the father who expected her to save his legacy; second, the husband who expected her to represent his fortune. Iris as a young woman is a girl struggling to fit a mould. As an old woman, she is a stubborn force that has finally come into its own, only to discover that the foundations are worn. Stubborn and strong-minded, Iris is defined by her broken promise to protect Laura, but it is from this very failure that she finds the strength to grow. Aware that her story can save neither her, nor Laura from a history of abuse, Iris nonetheless persists, because even though her story is about them, it is not for them. Iris’s story is for her granddaughter.
The Blind Assassin is Iris’s final attempt to free the future from the past: “Your legacy” she tells her granddaughter, “is the realm of infinite speculation. You’re free to reinvent yourself at will” (513). In these parting words, she fits the dreams of every individual inhabiting this world. It is our desire for self-definition which ultimately guides us. In Iris’s worldview, this right of autonomy is bound to the weight of our past and the stories we tell. Only in confronting the truths which surround us can we move forward.
So, if you’re willing to put a little bit of work into your leisure reading—or if you happen to be better with time-jumps and plot switches than I am—Margaret Atwood’s The Blind Assassin should prove an intriguing read. Fans of sci-fi, feminism, and history should all find something of interest within this novel’s pages. If you haven’t had the pleasure of reading Atwood before, however, I might recommend you start somewhere else.
Atwood, Margaret. The Blind Assassin. Anchor Books, 2001.
