I
used to think of my body as an instrument, of pleasure, or a means
of transportation, or an implement for the accomplishment of my
will . . . Now the flesh arranges itself differently. I’m a cloud,
congealed around a central object, the shape of a pear, which is
hard and more real than I am and glows red within its translucent
wrapping.
This passage is from Chapter 13,
when Offred sits in the bath, naked, and contrasts the way she used
to think about her body to the way she thinks about it now. Before,
her body was an instrument, an extension of her self; now, her self
no longer matters, and her body is only important because of its
“central object,” her womb, which can bear a child. Offred’s musings
show that she has internalized Gilead’s attitude toward women, which
treats them not as individuals but as objects important only for
the children that they can bear. Women’s wombs are a “national resource,”
the state insists, using language that dehumanizes women and reduces
them to, as Offred puts it, “a cloud, congealed around a central
object, which is hard and more real than I am.”