The Erosion of Interiority: When Resistance Becomes Spectacle

Photo by Rita Taylor, courtesy of Banff Centre for Arts and Creativity

The operatic adaptation of “The Handmaid’s Tale” by Poul Ruders and Paul Bentley was performed at the Detroit Opera House from March 1 to 7. The novel’s central message is lost due to the convention of opera necessitating externalized, heightened emotion. The opera creates spectacle, whereas the novel conveys interiority and ambiguity. The scale of the physical and emotional displays overshadows the terror of the surveillance state. The opera may unintentionally encapsulate a cultural dynamic that makes the warnings in Atwood’s canon harder to hear.

The literary technique that defines “The Handmaid’s Tale” by Margaret Atwood is Offred’s subjective narration. The reader is placed in the theocratic dictatorship of Gilead through the interior life of Offred as she grapples with her enslavement. In the Republic of Gilead she has no name, no rights, and no means of defiance outside of her mind. Self-censorship and the use of coded language with peers become essential for her survival as the regime has destroyed freedom of thought and expression. Offred is an ordinary woman in extraordinarily bleak circumstances, and her normalcy provides a contrast to the oppression of Gilead.

Unlike the novel, which was originally published in 1985, the opera must contend with an information landscape that has been damaged by the 24-hour news cycle and algorithmically boosted speech. Social media has replaced interiority with performance. These factors, in conjunction with the familiarity of “The Handmaid’s Tale,” reduce the need for audience interpretation. The image of the red cloak and white wings is ubiquitous at recent women’s rights and “No Kings” protests.

The constraints of staging create a sense of false equivalence between characters like Serena Joy and Offred because their figures are represented in parallel. The audience experiences a sense of danger through the atmosphere of the two-and-a-half-hour score composed almost entirely of minor notes. Travis Leon Williams, who portrayed Luke, said, “It’s a horror movie score underneath operatic singing.” The viewer is awash with discomfort rather than equipped to probe the mechanisms that lead a formerly democratic society to such a descent. For her novel, Atwood drew from real-world examples of totalitarian societies to create Gilead, but the theatrical adaptation weakens the injunction embedded within the material.

Whereas people once projected identity through institutions, and behavior functioned as an expression of values, individuals now self-manufacture identity through platforms. Modern media culture rewards public performance and immediate emotional broadcasting over reflection, such that visibility has replaced analysis. In a recent interview with Ryan Patrick Hooper at WDET, Atwood said: “People need to understand how totalitarianisms work to avoid having one, and it’s pretty spelled out in ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’ how they work.” When everything is entertainment, the range of acceptable ideas expands more easily (including those that previously seemed unacceptable), and warnings are not taken seriously. Politics becomes entertainment.

Because “The Handmaid’s Tale” explores power operating through surveillance, the manipulation of discourse and the erosion of interior freedom turn the story into a spectacle, which risks transforming a warning about political control into an emotional event for consumption. Rather than empathize with Offred’s pain, it becomes something to imbibe at a distance.

In a rare visit to Detroit, Atwood gave an interview to Sam White at the Detroit Opera House one month prior to the opening of the opera, and the talk itself reflected this dynamic. The interviewer and the audience devoured the presence of the famous author rather than grappling with her work. The high of celebrity and the sense of spectacle shrouded the opportunity for insight.

Quiet acts of interpretation can constitute rebellion because fascism and totalitarianism are systems of information dependent on facile acceptance. Shared narratives, more than objective reality, shape society. Governments exploit this at the expense of core democratic principles. Accurately naming what is happening is a step towards weakening the system. While the operatic version of “The Handmaid’s Tale” may capitalize on how prescient Atwood’s book is, instead of marveling at her ability to warn us about the future, we need to consider how her writing can equip us to handle the present.