This segment is rich with death images. The unexplained J on the cadaver at the Wall leaves Offred in doubt about which group the corpse represents, possibly Jesuits or Jehovah’s Witnesses. The tenor of this passage depicts the intolerance of religious fanatics, who root out all but those who share their dogma. The connection between this scene and the history of the Jewish Diaspora links Gilead with Hitler’s Germany, from which Jews escaped, if possible, or stubbornly hid themselves and evidence of their faith from night raiders. In a parallel situation to religious dissidents, Offred identifies with her predecessor, whom she envisions as safe in death, protected altogether. Like the doomed Handmaid who hanged herself on the chandelier, Offred feels buried.
The nightclub scene, a stark contrast to the privations of Gilead, delineates the hypocrisy of the double standard. For men, physically appealing women from the old days become sex toys and bargaining points in trade relations with Arabs and Japanese. To earn the right to serve men, nightclub regulars must keep trim, dress in absurdly scanty garments and push-up bras, smile, dance, and play dumb. Moira’s outfit—a parody of a Playboy bunny—recalls the risqué aura of Playboy Clubs of the 1960s, a carry-over from the era of naughty sex, the titillating fantasy atmosphere that preceded the more open and equalized sexual revolution of the 1970s. To Moira, the Commander’s decision to bring Offred to the club is just another crummy power trip.



















