The Horror of Literalism and The Handmaid’s Tale

Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale is a chilling exploration of what happens when scripture is read literally, wielded as a tool of control. In the fictional theocracy of Gilead, women are reduced to roles derived from a selective, surface-level reading of the Bible—particularly the story of Rachel and her handmaid, Bilhah. This dystopian vision isn’t just imaginative horror; it reflects a deeper truth: literalism has long been used to justify the suppression of the feminine, robbing women of their symbolic and spiritual depth.

The biblical stories that Gilead uses are not inherently oppressive. It is the interpretation that matters. When taken literally, these stories seem to reinforce hierarchies and fixed roles. But Neville Goddard’s mystical approach offers a radical shift: he reads the Bible psychologically and symbolically, not historically. In doing so, he restores the power of the feminine—especially the symbolic function of the woman as the subconscious mind, the womb of creation.

In Gilead, women are seen as vessels—but in the most reductive, physical sense. Neville, by contrast, sees the vessel as the inner creative faculty. The woman is not powerless—she is foundational. She is the receiver of seed (impression), the nurturer of imagination, and the birther of new realities. This is not a call to submission, but to profound co-creation.

The handmaids in Atwood’s story are stripped of identity and forced into servitude. Yet Neville’s interpretation would say the true handmaid is not a person at all—it is the yielded subconscious, aligned with a divine assumption and bringing forth the manifestation of that inner belief. In this light, the phrase “Behold the handmaid of the Lord” (Luke 1:38) becomes a powerful declaration of imaginative faith, not a resignation to external authority.

Literalism imprisons. Symbolism liberates.

Neville’s vision gives the feminine back her voice—not as a reaction to patriarchy, but as a revelation of her eternal function. When the Bible is read psychologically, the so-called ‘problematic’ passages become deeply empowering. The barren womb becomes a metaphor for untapped potential. The handmaid becomes the space where God’s word takes root.

By reinterpreting Scripture, we move beyond dystopia and back into divine authorship—where every woman, and every man, is both the sower and the soil.

The feminine is not passive. She is potent.

Neville invites us to stop reading the Bible as history and start reading it as our own internal map. In this way, The Handmaid’s Tale becomes more than a warning—it becomes an invitation. An invitation to reclaim our imagination, to honour the feminine within, and to free Scripture from the chains of literalism.

And in doing so, we discover that the most powerful handmaid is the one who dares to imagine.