I’m Just Still Alive; The Oldest Survivor of My Generation
IBNA (Iran Book News Agency) International Service – Elaheh Shams: Margaret Atwood, on the verge of eighty-six, still looks at the world with sharp eyes and biting humor. Despite a heart recently fitted with a battery and a life of decaffeinated coffee, she remains indefatigable. She jokes that her publisher worries she’ll die before her new book is printed, and then descends the stairs with a tray of coffee and pastries to continue the conversation amidst maple leaves.
Her new book, Book of Lives, is a 624-page memoir covering her life from childhood in the forests of Ontario to the death of her husband, Graeme Gibson, in 2019. Atwood, who has published a book almost every year since 1961—from Cat’s Eye and The Robber Bride to Alias Grace and The Blind Assassin, the MaddAddam trilogy, and the two iconic novels The Handmaid’s Tale and The Testaments—says she postponed writing her personal autobiography for years because ‘I didn’t like writing about myself.’
But now she doesn’t shy away from it: ‘Memory is what you remember, and usually you only remember catastrophes and foolish mistakes.’ The new book, in an intimate and conversational style, reviews the major passages of the century; from the Great Depression to World War, McCarthyism, Kennedy’s assassination, 9/11, the Trump era, and the COVID-19 pandemic. Within these historical events, private reckonings also appear: students who poisoned her drink, a writer who turned her into a ‘killer octopus.’ With a dry smile, she says: ‘I know who he is; or was—the fellow.’
The house where she lived with Gibson is calm and shaded today; once a cult residence, with orange walls to muffle screams. Now, alongside paintings and literary mementos, a woven sculpture of Atwood stands in the Handmaid’s uniform. She laughs, ‘Like everyone, I also receive hate mail; it’s just lessened, but it’s still there.’
Her name appears on the Nobel prediction list every year, but her fame is what prevents her from receiving the award. Atwood, who once began in the shadow of Roth, Updike, and Bellow, is now a symbol of a writer who has transcended the boundaries of gender and geography. She says, ‘I know some people are annoyed by this, but I’m just still alive; the oldest survivor of my generation.’ And she adds sardonically: ‘We Canadians are not looking to be ‘the most famous.”
Summary of Margaret Atwood’s Views: From Gilead to the White House
Atwood, now a global symbol of resistance, considers her fame a ‘historical accident’: the convergence of The Handmaid’s Tale TV adaptation in 2017 with Donald Trump’s victory. ‘The morning after the election, everyone thought they were acting in another play. Not that the scenario changed, but the frame shifted. Until yesterday it seemed like fantasy, and suddenly it became a prelude to reality.’ She speaks with regret about the current state of America: ‘I feel sorry for America. It is losing its position as a global leader, and if this path continues, China will take its place. But one shouldn’t say “Americans!”; at least half of them oppose this situation.’
She warns that although America has not yet reached full totalitarianism, it is moving towards a concentration of power. ‘If the United States had truly become fully totalitarian, we wouldn’t be able to film The Testaments now. We would all be in prison, or in exile, or dead.’ Atwood recalls that in 1985, the world was different: ‘The Wall was still standing, the Cold War continued, and America was a symbol of freedom and democracy.’ With the fall of the Berlin Wall, ‘people naively assumed the world was moving towards peace… they said, ‘Well, now we’ll go shopping, everything will be fine.’ But every time you disrupt the global order, people come to fill the power vacuum.’ She sees this thirst for power in historical leaders, and referring to Trump, she quotes him: ‘“Je suis America!” (I am America!)’.
Despite this bleak atmosphere, she does not consider resistance futile. Atwood, referring to Trump’s plan to merge Canada, says in a half-joking, half-serious tone: ‘We have a small army. If they want to attack, they can. But occupying Canada is not easy. Trump will have to face me first.’ This spirit is the legacy of years of resistance in a literary world once dominated by American and British male writers.
Atwood, who aspired to be a biologist in her youth, found her path after writing her first poem at sixteen, and ever since, life has always been ‘raw material’ for her writing. She speaks frankly of her youthful loves, ‘I think we had more fun than today’s generation.’ This penetrating and rebellious gaze is what has made her works so vibrant and enduring.
In her collection of essays Burning Questions, she offers advice that aptly describes herself: ‘To escape a crocodile, run in a zigzag!’ Conversation with her is likewise—circuitous and unpredictable, ranging from Brexit and Doggerland to the French Revolution and zombies. She has ‘torn apart’ careless interviewers for years, but she is calmer now, perhaps because no one asks anymore why her stories are dark.
Margaret Eleanor Atwood, born in November 1939 in the forests of Quebec, is the daughter of Karl, an entomologist, and a teacher mother. She spent her childhood among frogs and snakes and was not afraid of them, except for lightning and bears. From that rural life, she learned to protect herself, her great lesson being what she later reiterated in Cat’s Eye: Never be afraid of bullies.
She received a Harvard scholarship, where she later immortalized all its buildings in The Handmaid’s Tale, including the Harvard Wall with hanging bodies. Her first job at a marketing company became the basis for her first novel, The Edible Woman; for Atwood, every experience is the raw material for a story.
In the late sixties, she married Jim Polk, her old Harvard classmate. ‘One of the strangest occurrences in life for both of us.’ From then until today, Atwood has never stopped writing and warning. She says quietly but firmly: ‘This is the most terrifying era, but one can still write.’
