The only thing that saves this from the one-star category is the fact that I can imaging my creative writing professors at Rochester assigning these sorts of short stories, because they are right in line with all of the ones I read for class. I would read and become a bit excited near the end of the first third of the story, hoping with a bit of anticipation that now, after this confusion and meandering, everything will add up and lead to something beautiful or horrendous or at least meaningful. But after finishing the second third of the story, I finally realize that no, the first third was exactly what was going to happen throughout, and I would be destined to finish the story without finding any purpose to it at all, but I would finish it anyway, because I had already invested time and energy in the first two-thirds, and darn it, if there was some surprise at the end that made everything make sense, I didn't want to be such a lazy reader that I would miss it. The first collection of short stories by the ever prolific Margaret Atwood. When I started my #summerofwomen, one of my big goals was to bootstrap myself on the works of both Atwood and Toni Morrison, two authors I'd embarrassingly missed my entire life. Though I enjoyed Atwood's first three novels ( The Edible Woman, Surfacing, and Lady Oracle), it was jumping forward to The Handmaid's Tale in October that made me realize that she really hit her stride a bit later. As such, this 1976 collection of short pieces feels not altogether formed. If I had it to do over again, I might start with Bluebeard's Egg or Wilderness Tips instead. Writing effective short stories is probably more difficult than writing effective novels. You have very little space; you have to create viable, breathing characters in paragraphs instead of chapters; you have to weigh every word and know that it is essential or it must go; and you must convey something important, an idea, a thought, that lasts or has impact. Margaret Atwood does that like it is a science. Developed through the literary device of dramatic monologue, this story presents virtually no exposition and little recognizable plot. The reader must wait patiently for tidbits of information while wading through the inane rambling utterances of a protagonist who is obviously speaking to a male not directly involved in the story.

But it is the clear similarities between Estelle and the women, shown vividly during this collective speculation on the “rape fantasy” topic, which realizes Estelle’s character to the audience. Of all the women at the table, only Estelle tosses out obnoxious humor, and it is the reaction to this obnoxiousness that unifies the group and identifies Estelle: they’re thinking of her the same way she’s thinking of them, but with better reason to do so. Es recomendable? Por supuesto. Leer a Atwood nunca será una pérdida de tiempo. ¿Si se transformará en tu libro favorito de todos los tiempos? Ahí tengo mis dudas. Only when we reach the end of ‘Rape Fantasies’, however, do we realise that the story’s actual – and very relevant – setting is the one from which the narrator speaks, the ‘here’ that she mentions in the story’s penultimate paragraph. ‘Here’ is a bar where our lonely, single, chatterbox speaks to a man…In this instance, Estelle shows that she is quite capable of practicing her benevolent behavior in her rape fantasies, whether she realizes it or not. “…how could a fellow do that to a person he’s just had a long conversation with…?” she asks, not thinking once about the person to whom she’s speaking. She gives this person the benefit of the doubt, reveals many intimate details about herself, and gives this faceless person more credit and more candidness than the women at the bridge game. Why is “The Man From Mars” mysterious? First, the man appeals to Christine to share her name by way of writing. Typically, people exchange their names verbally. Christine obliges in view of the possibility that the man is from a culture that is dissimilar to hers whereby sharing names through writing may be tolerable. Second, the man is resolute on going home with her on the first day that they pump into each other. His request is bizarre seeing that they have not been accustomed to each other for long. Third, the man calls Christine’s house, even though Christine did not give her telephone number. Details are not included on how he got the number though. Christine speculates, “most likely he went through the phone book, calling all the numbers with her last name until he hit on the right one.” If Christine’s theory is perfect, then the man must have been neurotic about being in Christine’s life. What is more, the man invites himself to Christine’s home for tea. On the occasions when Christine gives her the opportunity to speak out what he wants from her, the man does not express himself. Nunca he entendido por qué la gente considera la juventud una época de libertad y alegría. Probablemente se debe a que ha olvidado la propia. De niña, siempre se identificaba con la novia engañada o la hermana fea; siempre que el cuento empezaba “Érase una vez una doncella tan bonita como bondadosa”, tenía la certeza de que no se trataba de ella.

Though not dwelling on them doesn’t make them go away either, when you come to think of it (35). As Estelle dwells on the idea that one shouldn’t dwell on things, the humor and satire in the story become even more evident. The last few sentences of the story express much of the essence of the irony of the main character and the story in general: Like, how could a fellow do that to a person he’s just had a long conversation with, once you let them know you’re human, you have a life too, I don’t see how they could go ahead with it, right? Rape Fantasies" is a short story by the Canadian author Margaret Atwood. The story, notable for its dark humor, was originally published in The Fiddlehead in 1975, [1] and subsequently republished in Atwood's Dancing Girls & Other Stories in 1977, after being left out of the first edition. [2] The story gained greater attention and study when it was later anthologized in the 1985 edition of Norton Anthology of Literature by Women. Incluso quienes jamás irían a los lugares que ella describía, quienes no podrían permitírselo, no querían oír hablar de peligros, ni siquiera de incomodidades; era como si desearan creer que quedaba un lugar en el mundo donde todo iba bien, donde no ocurría nada desagradable.The man is preoccupied with Christine because “Initially he waited outside the lecture rooms for her to come out. She said hello to him curtly at first and kept on going, but this didn't work; he followed her at a distance, smiling his changeless smile. Then she stopped speaking altogether and pretended to ignore him, but it made no difference, he followed her anyway. The fact that she was in some way afraid of him—or was it just embarrassment?—seemed only to encourage him.” The man’s puzzling behavior is unfathomable because he does not declare explicitly why he keeps Christine under surveillance. One would construe him to be an fanatical lover who wants to be in command of Christine’s engagements. His fortitude, notwithstanding, Christine’s disinterest, is bothersome as he may put her safety on the line. Update this section! Creía que si llevaba prendas muy holgadas formarían una especie de tienda a mí alrededor y sería menos visible. Pero era al revés. Cred că memento mori e, de fapt, fața cealaltă a iubirii care nu moare, stă mereu într-un colț al creierului protagonistei, deși povestea de dragoste s-a încheiat de mult timp, deși nimic nu mai e cum a fost, iar ei doi sunt acum alți oameni, cu familii si job (se cunoscuseră în studenție). Și...daca își amintește des că va muri, ea își aduce imediat în paralel și imaginea lui, pentru că el este tinerețea ei și viața aceea plină, romantică, de neegalat cu viața de acum. La pobre Louise había intentado forjarse a sí misma a partir de las personas que conocía. Únicamente de él no había tomado nada: al pensar en su gélido interior, un puro embrión malogrado, comprendió que no tenía nada que ella pudiera tomar.

Ecco, la Atwood è in grado di scrivere storie così con un'arguzia e un'analisi sottile e spietata... non la definisco con la parola femminista perché so che la Atwood non vuole essere definita così, eppure è per me quanto di più femminista, onesto e senza vergogna io conosca. The idea that the perfect woman, or the Virgin Mary, gave birth to a child while remaining a virgin presents woman with the same kind of paradoxical model as having rape fantasies, the similarity being that a woman can no more find a happy, exciting, pleasant rape than she can get pregnant and still be a virgin. As Estelle says, ‘Listen,’ I said, ‘those aren’t RAPE fantasies. I mean, you aren‘t getting RAPED, it ‘s just some guy you haven’t met formally who happens to be more attractive than Derek Cummins,… and you have a good time. Rape is when they’ve got a knife or something and you don’t want to’ (32). There are two religious references made by Estelle, and both mention the Virgin Mary. This possibly expresses two things about Estelle’s personality and an overall idea found in the story. First, and most obvious, is just the fact that she has had a religious upbringing. Second is the paradoxical situation that one finds in the ‘virgin birth’ and in the ‘satisfying rape. ’ These references introduce into the story the surreal nature of rape fantasies as presented by the magazines and TV that Estelle tells of in the beginning of the story. Estelle's narration is filled with stereotypes of both men and women. For instance, she describes Chrissy as a receptionist who "looks like one." Atwood relies on the power of the stereotype for readers to envision Chrissy's appearance; the only details readers are given are that she wears lots of makeup, blushes at the thought of discussing rape fantasies, and "looks like she was painted all over with nail polish." Some of the story's humor also lies in stereotypes. When discussing Chrissy and Greta, who wants to be a receptionist, Estelle describes them as blondes who "try to outdress each other." Estelle is also cognizant of male gender roles, and feels sympathy for the men in her rape fantasies because they do not live up to her preconception of the ideal man, a "Clint Eastwood" type. "I mean there has to be something wrong with them," she says, after explaining that she imagines rapists to have bad skin or to exhibit symptoms of either physical or mental illness. To Estelle a rapist is a man who does not live up to the ideal of a virile, tall, handsome man able to win a woman by the sheer power of his masculinity. She invokes an age-based stereotype when she states that her boss could not possibly be a rapist because "he's over sixty ... poor old thing." Even in her sympathy, Estelle tends to stereotype people.

Open Library

It is not only the rapists that do not get criticized by Estelle, but anyone who hasn’t had the chance to disappoint her in some way. In Estelle’s world, only strangers are capable of this status of perfection, and therefore worthy of hearing things like gossip, criticism, and the particulars of her rape fantasies: things she would never reveal to anyone else. Con el puño del abrigo hasta los nudillos, no tenía aspecto de ser titular de una tarjeta de crédito. No longer is it a wonder how simple statements that don’t involve Estelle can all of the sudden lead to fiercely critical thoughts about her fellow bridge players; Estelle rarely stays to the point, and shifts from one thought to the next to keep herself from becoming too serious. She makes light of all of the possible rape scenarios in which she can imagine herself being involved; and she cannot, ironically, be too critical of theoretical rapists. To her rapists she is sympathetic, and her rapists are always receptive to this sympathy. Many readers can identify with Estelle's predicament about moving to a big city, further adding to her credibility as a narrator: "I thought it was going to be such a big adventure and all, but it's a lot harder to meet people in a city." In addition, her speech patterns make her sound like many of the people readers encounter every day. Her speech is not studied or formal; her words sound like everyday conversation: "My mother always said you shouldn't dwell on unpleasant things and I generally agree with that, I mean, dwelling on them doesn't make them go away. Though not dwelling on them doesn't make them go away either, when you come to think of it." By creating a narrator whose speech cadences are familiar and colloquial, and having her give a monologue that is full of everyday experiences, Atwood implies that the topic of rape should not be taboo. Just like Estelle, Atwood infers that "it would be better if you could get a conversation going." Once men and women are able to discuss the politics of rape, it might become less common.