Azar Nafisi

I am reminded of the incident when you were in jail, and the head of the dreaded secret police paid you a visit. During your conversation, he was so touched that he started crying. Here you were with one of the most powerful men in the country crying in front of you. That incident did not make him stop harassing you, nor did it make you justify his actions, but it showed you a different side of him. It humanized him.

In her novels, Atwood gives us a subversive view of this black-and-white world, where any form of opposition is met with elimination and death, and she reveals the complications, inconsistencies, and paradoxes that even the fanatics in the absolutist states cannot wholly evade: the Guardians who want a peek at the Handmaid’s face; the Commander who uses his power and risks his position to play Scrabble with the Handmaid; the almost all-powerful Aunt who is secretly planning the destruction of Gilead. Suddenly, behind the seemingly immovable façade, there are all sorts of movements. Uncontrollable. Inevitable.

The more they dehumanize us, the more we should humanize them.