Margaret Atwood - The Handmaid's Tale - Chapter 15 lyrics

The Commander knocks at the door
The knock is prescribed: the
Sitting room is supposed to
Be Serena Joy's territory
He's supposed to ask permission to
Enter it she likes
To keep him waiting it's a little thing
But in this household little
Things mean a lot tonight, however
She doesn't even get that
Because before Serena Joy can speak
He steps forward into
The room anyway maybe he's
Just forgotten the protocol, but maybe
It's deliberate who knows what
She said to him
Over the silver-encrusted dinner table?
Or didn't say
The Commander has on his black uniform
In which he looks
Like a museum guard a semi-retired
Man, genial but wary
Killing time but only at first glance
After that he looks like
A mid-western bank president
With his straight neatly
Brushed silver hair, his sober posture
Shoulders a little
Stooped and after that there is his mustache
Silver also, and after that his chin
Which really you can't miss when you get
Down as far as the chin
He looks like a vodka ad
In a glossy magazine, of times gone by
His manner is mild, his hands large
With thick
Fingers and acquisitive thumbs, his
Blue eyes uncommunicative, falsely innocuous
He looks us over as if
Taking inventory one kneeling
Woman in red, one seated woman in blue
Two in
Green, standing, a solitary man, thin-faced
In the
Background he manages to appear puzzled
As if he can't quite remember
How we all got in here as if we are
Something he inherited, like a
Victorian pump organ
And he hasn't figured out what to do
With us what we are worth
He nods in the general
Direction of Serena Joy, who does not make
A sound he crosses to the large
Leather chair reserved for him
Takes the key out of his
Pocket, fumbles with the ornate
Brass-bound leather-covered box that
Stands on the table beside the chair
He inserts the key, opens the box, lifts
Out the Bible, an ordinary copy
With a black cover
And gold-edged pages the Bible
Is kept locked up
The way people once kept tea locked up
So the servants wouldn't steal it it is an
Incendiary device: who knows what we'd make
Of it, if we ever got our hands on it?
We can be read to from
It, by him, but we cannot read our
Heads turn towards him, we are expectant
Here comes our bedtime story
The Commander sit's down and
Crosses his legs
Watched by us the bookmarks are
In place he opens the book he
Clears his throat a little
As if embarrassed
"Could I have a drink of water?"
He says to the air "Please, " he adds
Behind me, one of them, Cora or Rita
Leaves her space in
The tableau and pads off towards
The kitchen the Commander sit's
Looking down the Commander sighs
Takes out a pair of reading
Glasses from his inside jacket
Pocket, gold rims, slips them on
Now he looks like a shoemaker in an old fairy
Tale book is there no end to his disguises
Of benevolence?
We watch him: every inch, every flicker

To be a man, watched by women it must
Be entirely strange to
Have them watching him all the
Time to have them wondering, what's he
Going to do next? To have them flinch when he
Moves, even if it's a harmless enough move
To reach for an ashtray perhaps to
Have them sizing him up
To have them thinking, He can't do it
He won't do, he'll have to do
This last as if he were a
Garment, out of style or shoddy
Which must nevertheless be put on
Because there's nothing else available
To have them putting him on, trying him on
Trying
Him out, while he himself puts them on
Like a sock over a
Foot, onto the stub of himself
His extra, sensitive thumb, his
Tentacle, his delicate, stalked slug's eye
Which extrudes, expands, winces
And shrivels back into himself when touched
Wrongly, grows big again, bulging a little
At the tip, traveling forward as
If along a leaf, into
Them, avid for vision to achieve
Vision in this way, this journey
Into a darkness that is composed
Of women, a woman
Who can see in darkness while
He himself strains blindly forward
She watches him from within
We're all watching him
It's the one thing we can really
Do, and it is not for nothing: if
He were to falter, fail, or die
What would become of
Us? No wonder he's like a
Boot, hard on the outside
Giving shape to a pulp of tenderfoot
That's just a wish i've been watching him for
Some time and he's given no evidence
Of softness but watch out, Commander
I tell him in my head i've got my eye
On you one false move and I'm dead
Still, it must be hell, to be a man
Like that it must be just fine
It must be hell it must be very silent

The water appears, the Commander
Drinks it "Thank you
" he says cora rustles back into place
The Commander pauses, looking down
Scanning the page he takes his time
As if unconscious of us he's like a
Man toying with a steak
Behind a restaurant window
Pretending not to see the eyes
Watching him from hungry darkness
Not three feet from his elbow we lean towards
Him a little, iron filings to his magnet
He has something we
Don't have, he has the word
How we squandered it, once
The Commander, as if reluctantly
Begins to read he isn't very good
At it maybe he's merely bored
It's the usual story
The usual stories god to
Adam, God to Noah be fruitful, and multiply
And replenish the earth then
Comes the moldy old
Rachel and Leah stuff we had drummed
Into us at the Center give
Me children, or else I die
Am I in God's stead
Who hath withheld from thee the fruit of
The womb? Behold my maid Bilhah she
Shall bear upon my knees
That I may also have children by her and
So on and so forth we had
It read to us every breakfast
As we sat in the high school cafeteria
Eating porridge with cream and brown
Sugar you're getting the best, you know
Said aunt Lydia there's a war on, things are
Rationed you are spoiled girls, she twinkled
As if rebuking a kitten naughty puss

For lunch it was the
Beatitudes blessed be this, blessed
Be that they played it from a tape
So not even an Aunt would be
Guilty of the sin of
Reading the voice was a man's
Blessed be the poor in spirit
For theirs is the kingdom of
Heaven blessed are the
Merciful blessed be the meek blessed are the
Silent i knew they made that up, I knew it
Was wrong, and they left things out, too
But there was no way of checking
Blessed be those that mourn
For they shall be comforted nobody said when
I check the clock, during dessert
Canned pears with cinnamon, standard
For lunch, and look for Moira in her place
Two tables over she's gone already i
Put my hand up
I am excused we don't do this too often
And always at different times of day
In the washroom I go to
The second last stall, as usual
Are you there? I whisper
Large as life and twice as ugly
Moira whispers back
What have you heard? I ask her
Nothing much i've got to get out of here
I'm going bats
I feel panic no, no, Moira, I say
Don't try it not on your own
I'll fake sick they send an ambulance
I've seen it
You'll only get as far as the hospital
At least it'll be a change i won't
Have to listen to that old bitch
They'll find you out
Not to worry, I'm good at it when I was a
Kid in high school I cut out vitamin C
I got scurvy in the early stages
They can't diagnose it then you
Just start it again and you're fine
I'll hide my vitamin pills moira, don't
I couldn't stand the thought of
Her not being here, with me for me
They send two guys with you
In the ambulance think about it
They must be starved
For it, shit, they aren't even allowed to
Put their hands in their pockets
The possibilities are
You in there time's up, said
The voice of Aunt Elizabeth, from the
Doorway i stood up, flushed the toilet
Two of Moira's fingers appeared
Through the hole in the wall it
Was only large enough for two
Fingers i touched my own fingers
To them, quickly, held on, let go

"And Leah said, God hath given me my hire
Because
I have given my maiden to my husband
" says the commander he lets the book fall
Closed it makes an
Exhausted sound, like a padded
Door shutting, by it'self
At a distance: a puff of air
The sound suggests the softness
Of the thin oniony pages
How they would feel under the fingers soft
And dry, like papier poudre, pink and
Powdery, from the time before, you'd
Get it in booklets for taking
The shine off your nose, in those
Stores that sold candles and soap in
The shapes of things: seashells
Mushrooms like cigarette paper like petals
The Commander sit's with his eyes
Closed for a moment
As if tired he works long hours
He has a lot of responsibilities
Serena has begun to cry i can hear her
Behind my back it isn't the
First time she always does
This, the night of the Ceremony
She's trying not to
Make a noise she's trying
To preserve her dignity
In front of us the upholstery
And the rugs muffle
Her but we can hear her clearly despite that
The tension between her lack of control and
Her attempt to suppress it is horrible
It's like a fart in church i feel
As always, the urge to laugh
But not because I think it's
Funny the smell of her
Crying spreads over us and we
Pretend to ignore it the Commander opens his
Eyes, notices, frowns
Ceases to notice "Now we will have a
Moment of silent prayer, " says the Commander
"We will ask for a blessing
And for success in all our ventures"
I bow my head and close my eyes
I listen to the held breath, the almost
Inaudible gasps
The shaking going on behind my
Back how she must hate me, i think

I pray silently: Nolite te
Bastardes carborundorum I don't
Know what it means, but it sounds right
And it will
Have to do, because I don't know what else I
Can say to God not right now not, as
They used to say
At this juncture the scratched
Writing on my cupboard wall floats before me
Left by an unknown woman
With the face of Moira i saw her
Go out, to the ambulance, on a stretcher
Carried by two Angels
What is it? I mouthed to the woman beside
Me safe enough, a question like that
To all but a fanatic
A fever, she formed with
Her lips appendicitis, they say
Iwas having dinner, that evening
Hamburger balls and hashed browns my
Table was near the window, I could see out
As far as the front gates
I saw the ambulance come back, no siren this
Time one of the Angels jumped out
Talked with the guard the guard
Went into the building
The ambulance stayed parked the
Angel stood with his back towards us
As they had been taught to do
Two of the Aunts came out of the building
With the guard they went around
To the back they hauled Moira out
Dragged her in through the gate
And up the front steps
Holding her under the
Armpit's, one on each side she was
Having trouble walking i stopped eating
I couldn't eat by this time
All of us on my side of the table
Were staring out the window the window was
Greenish, with that chicken wire
Mesh they used
To put inside glass aunt Lydia said
Eat your dinner she went over
And pulled down the blind
They took her into the room
That used to be the
Science Lab it was a room where none of us
Ever went willingly afterwards she could
Not walk for a
Week, her feet would not fit into her shoes
They were too
Swollen it was the feet they'd do, for
A first offense they used steel cables
Frayed at the ends after that
The hands they didn't care what
They did to your feet or your hands, even if
It was permanent remember
Said Aunt Lydia for our purposes your feet
And your hands are not essential
Moira lay on her bed
An example she shouldn't have
Tried it, not with the Angels, Alma said
From the next bed over we had to
Carry her to classes we stole extra
Paper packets of sugar for her
From the cafeteria at mealtimes, smuggled
Them to her, at night
Handing them from bed to bed probably
She didn't need the sugar but
It was the only thing we could
Find to steal to give
I am still praying but what
I am seeing is Moira's
Feet the way they looked
After they'd brought her
Back, Her feet did not look like feet at all
They looked like drowned feet
Swollen and boneless
Except for the colour they looked like lungs
Oh God
I pray nolite te bastardes carborundorum is
This what you had in mind?
The Commander clears his throat this is what
He does to let us know
That in his opinion it's time we
Stopped praying "For the eyes of
The Lord run to and fro
Throughout the whole earth, to know himself
Strong in the behalf of them whose
Heart is perfect towards him, " he says
It's the sign-off he stands
Up we are dismissed