Handmaid's Tale Characters

I. Offred

Offred is the protagonist and narrative voice of the novel, through whom the reader experiences the everyday workings of Gilead. Her perspective is shaped by memory, fear, and constrained hope. She introduces herself with the state-assigned identity: “My name is Offred,” but gestures towards her lost autonomy when she adds: “I keep the knowledge of my name like something hidden, some treasure I'll come back to dig up.” Her dual position—as both participant in and quiet observer of Gilead—frames the novel’s depiction of life under a totalitarian theocracy.

Offred’s memories of her husband and daughter provide the emotional counterpoint to her present. She recalls her daughter being taken: “She was screaming, as if she could not breathe except in my arms.” Her husband, Luke, appears in fragments: “Luke, I think, is lost,” she says, while sometimes insisting: “I believe Luke is still alive, because I believe everything.” These oscillations illustrate the role of memory in sustaining her identity, though the narrative portrays them simply as part of the plot’s structure of recollection.

Her role in the Commander’s house is circumscribed by rigid rules. She summarises the Handmaid’s purpose: “We are two-legged wombs, that’s all.” Her interactions with Serena Joy highlight her precarious position: “She doesn’t make speeches anymore. She has become speechless.” The Commander’s illicit invitations unsettle the established domestic hierarchy; Offred describes the atmosphere of the study as “forbidden”, and confesses: “To want is to have a weakness.” Her involvement with Nick grows into a clandestine relationship, expressed in simple phrases that capture her longing for human closeness: “I went back to him. It was so easy.”

As the plot progresses, Offred’s voice conveys the mounting tension of surveillance and suspicion. She summarises her uncertainty near the novel’s end: “Whether this is my end or a new beginning I have no way of knowing.” Her narrative function is thus twofold: she is both chronicler of Gilead and a woman navigating its constraints, with her voice acting as the novel’s structural and emotional centre.

II. The Commander (Fred Waterford)

The Commander is a senior official in Gilead and the head of the household in which Offred is placed. His public role grants him authority, while his private actions reveal contradictions between the ideology he upholds and the desires he pursues. Offred initially sees him from a distance: “He looks like a midwestern bank president,” suggesting an aura of unremarkable authority.

His invitations to the study establish his desire for intimacy and companionship. Offred notes: “He asked me to play Scrabble with him,” an activity forbidden to women. The Commander appears to take pleasure in transgressing the rules he helped enforce, offering magazines and old cosmetics: “He likes to see me in makeup.” These gestures position him as a character whose private inclinations diverge from his public persona.

The Commander’s explanations of Gilead’s ideology are embedded within Offred’s recollections. He states: “Better never means better for everyone… It always means worse for some,” a remark important to the narrative’s depiction of political rationalisation. He characterises the pre-Gilead world as chaotic: “There was nothing for them any more,” he says of men. His role thus includes articulating the regime’s justificatory discourse, though this remains descriptive rather than interpretive in the novel’s structure.

At Jezebel’s, the Commander reveals further dimensions of his private conduct: “He slips me a sequinned dress,” Offred recounts, and later: “You can’t make an omelette without breaking eggs.” His presence at the illicit club highlights the gap between the idealised moral order of Gilead and the concealed behaviours of its elite.

By the novel’s end, his household descends into discord amid accusations and fear. Offred describes his final appearance as “trying for a dignified air, but failing.” His significance in the plot lies in his composite roles: architect of the system, transgressor of its rules, and figure around whom Offred’s survival strategies revolve.

III. Serena Joy

Serena Joy, the Commander’s Wife, exemplifies the domestic hierarchy of Gilead. She is described as having once been a public figure: “She used to sing on television,” and gave speeches advocating traditional values for women. Her transformation into a Wife reveals how the regime she helped enable has limited her own life; Offred describes her appearance: “Her face is a closed door.”

Serena’s relationship with Offred is marked by tension and resentment. Offred observes: “She doesn’t want me here,” and notes Serena’s thinly veiled hostility: “As for you, she said, you’re a slut.” The Wife’s role is to preside over the household, yet she has no reproductive capacity. The Ceremony positions her as a literal frame around Offred’s body, a structural feature of the ritual rather than an active participant.

Her desperation for a child leads her to propose the illicit arrangement with Nick: “Maybe you should try it another way,” she suggests, before handing Offred a cigarette as part of the bargain. Her emotional investment is evident when she provides a photograph of Offred’s daughter: “She held it as if it were a delicate instrument.” Serena functions in the narrative as both oppressor and victim of the system—roles that coexist without the need for interpretive commentary in the text.

Her anger flares when she uncovers Offred’s involvement with the Commander: “You could have left me something,” she says bitterly, referring to her stolen cigarette lighter. In the climactic confrontation, she accuses Offred of betrayal: “Slut,” she repeats, her hostility culminating in the final moments before Offred’s removal. Serena’s presence serves to illustrate the restricted, embittered lives of elite women under Gilead’s social order.

IV. Nick

Nick is the household Guardian, responsible for minor duties, and ultimately becomes a pivotal figure in Offred’s narrative. Initially, Offred describes him in ambiguous terms: “He lives here… he’s a Guardian.” His first interactions with her are understated: “He winks,” she notes, uncertain whether this is a genuine signal or a provocation.

Serena Joy’s request that Offred have sex with Nick marks a shift in his role. Their initial encounter is awkward: “It’s the first time she’s said anything about love,” Offred observes, reflecting Serena’s desire for success in conceiving a child. Nick’s reactions remain subdued; Offred perceives him as both accessible and opaque.

Their relationship deepens into a secret attachment. Offred describes the encounters with simple, immediate language: “I went back to him,” and later, “I want to be held, and he offers me that.” Nick becomes Offred’s primary source of comfort within the household. She states: “I tell him things I shouldn't. I tell him things I don't even tell myself.” His importance grows as her connection to the Commander deteriorates.

Nick’s political position, however, remains unclear. Offred says: “He could be a spy,” and later, “He could be one of them.” His final whispered message—“It’s Mayday”—provides the narrative with its ambiguous ending, though she notes: “I believe him because I have to.” Nick’s significance lies in his liminal status between danger and refuge, and in the emotional weight he carries in Offred’s experience.

V. Ofglen

Ofglen is Offred’s shopping partner and one of the few characters who introduces her to the undercurrent of resistance in Gilead. At first, she appears cautious and compliant. Offred describes her: “A woman of about my own age, but nicer teeth.” Their early exchanges are marked by formulaic greetings required by the state: “Blessed be the fruit,” followed by “May the Lord open.”

Their conversations gradually shift from mandated phrases to tentative confidences. Ofglen’s first revelation comes softly: “Do you think God listens?” Later she admits: “We have a network.” The discovery of her affiliation with Mayday provides Offred with her first direct encounter with dissent.

During a Salvaging, Ofglen whispers the context of the condemned man’s rebellion: “He was a political,” giving Offred information denied by official channels. Her courage appears most clearly during the Particicution, when she kills the accused man swiftly, saying afterwards: “He was already dead,” to spare him prolonged suffering.

Ofglen’s disappearance marks one of the novel’s pivotal turns. The new Ofglen reports: “She hanged herself,” adding that the Eyes had come for her. Offred reflects: “She did it to escape,” acknowledging Ofglen’s attempt to avoid interrogation. Ofglen’s role in the plot is that of a quiet revolutionary whose presence opens a window onto the organised resistance within an otherwise closed system.

VI. Aunt Lydia

Aunt Lydia is central to the indoctrination of the Handmaids. Offred’s memories of the Red Centre are punctuated by Lydia’s aphoristic teachings. She often repeats phrases such as “There is more than one kind of freedom… freedom to and freedom from.” Another refrain is: “Ordinary is what you are used to. This may not seem ordinary to you now, but after a time it will.”

Aunt Lydia supervises punishments, lectures, and moral instruction. Offred remembers her urging conformity: “Think of yourselves as seeds.” She also frames Gilead’s rules as protective: “In the days of anarchy, it was freedom to. Now you are being given freedom from.”

Her presence continues indirectly in Offred’s daily life, as Offred recalls her comments at moments of fear or decision. Aunt Lydia’s significance lies in her function as a voice of the regime, representing the system’s re-education and disciplinary apparatus.

VII. Moira

Moira is Offred’s friend from “the time before” and a fellow captive at the Red Centre. She represents rebellion and independence, qualities Offred admires. Offred recalls her fondly: “Moira was our fantasy,” and describes her audacity in resisting the Aunts. Moira famously escapes the Centre using a hand-made weapon, a moment Offred describes with awe: “She really did it.”

Her eventual recapture and forced placement at Jezebel’s provide a major turning point for Offred. Moira explains her situation: “I’m not your prisoner,” spoken with diminished conviction. Offred observes that Moira looks “tired and sad,” and later remarks: “She was never the same after that.” Moira’s presence tracks the novel’s movement between resistance and resignation.

VIII. Luke

Luke is Offred’s husband in the time before. He appears primarily in Offred’s memories, which serve to contrast her former life with her current captivity. Offred recalls small domestic scenes: “We lived in the ice cream.” She imagines him alive: “Luke, I say, under my breath.” She also considers the possibility of his death: “He might have been shot.”

Luke’s significance lies less in his actions and more in his role as a symbol of Offred’s lost autonomy, marriage, and family. His presence in her recollections structures much of the novel’s temporal movement.

IX. Offred’s Daughter

The unnamed daughter appears in vivid but fragmented memories. Offred recalls their attempted escape: “She was screaming, kicking me.” She remembers everyday details—her daughter’s red snowsuit, the act of reading to her. She later learns that her daughter has been placed with another family: “She has a new mother now.”

The daughter’s significance lies in her role as Offred’s primary emotional anchor. She embodies the life Offred lost and the future she fears she will never reclaim.

X. The Aunts (Collectively)

Besides Aunt Lydia, the Aunts collectively enforce Gilead’s norms. They supervise training, administer punishments, and disseminate the moral vocabulary of the state. Offred recalls their repetition of slogans: “Modesty is invisibility,” and “Pen is envy.” The Aunts function as instruments of ideological transmission and represent the complicity of some women in the enforcement of patriarchal power.

XI. The Eyes

Though not individuals, the Eyes form a crucial institutional character within the narrative. They represent the state’s surveillance apparatus. Encounters with them induce fear; Offred states: “Perhaps he is an Eye,” whenever encountering a suspicious figure. Their arrival at the end of the novel culminates in Offred’s removal: “The Eyes were in the house.” Their significance lies in symbolising the constant threat that shapes every character’s behaviour.

XII. The Professor and Pieixoto (Historical Notes)

In the “Historical Notes,” Professor Pieixoto and other academics present Offred’s narrative as a historical document. Pieixoto’s remarks—“We must be cautious about passing moral judgement”—frame the protagonist’s story through a distant, scholarly lens. They search for the Commander’s identity and discuss political structures rather than Offred’s suffering. Their significance lies in providing a future perspective that reframes the narrative and highlights the conditional preservation of women’s voices.