Margaret Atwood’s Views on The Testaments and Trad Wives

(SeaPRwire) –   Warning: Spoilers ahead for The Testaments

Hulu’s six-season adaptation of Margaret Atwood’s celebrated 1985 novel The Handmaid’s Tale became a symbol of opposition to Donald Trump during his first presidential term. As for how its sequel series, The Testaments, loosely adapted from Atwood’s 2019 best-selling book of the same name, will resonate with audiences under Trump’s second administration, “that’s not up to me,” the 86-year-old author tells TIME. “Readers and viewers will decide for themselves what it represents.”

The Testaments, now available on Hulu, continues four years after the events of The Handmaid’s Tale’s 2025 finale. In that episode, protagonist June Osborne (Elisabeth Moss), known as the titular handmaid, escapes the totalitarian theocracy that forced her into sexual servitude for infertile couples but vows to continue fighting for those still trapped within, including her teenage daughter, Hannah—now known as Agnes MacKenzie after being adopted by a prominent Gilead commander a decade earlier.

The Testaments TV series offers a young-adult perspective on the world of women in this hyper-patriarchal society, following Agnes (Chase Infiniti), a wide-eyed teenager navigating high school, growing hormones, and arranged marriages alongside her friends. Among them is Daisy (Lucy Halliday), a vengeful Canadian teen recently brought into Gilead who shares ties with June.

At its core, the speculative series centers on “someone on the inside deciding they want to bring down the system,” says Atwood. That individual is Aunt Lydia (Ann Dowd), who, as revealed in the final season of The Handmaid’s Tale, transitioned from a ruthless enforcer of the regime to a covert operative for the resistance.

Below, Atwood discusses the show’s themes of rebellion and its commentary on traditional wife culture.

TIME: You’ve stated you wrote The Testaments to illustrate what happens when a totalitarian regime collapses from within. What can the book—and now the TV show—teach us about organized rebellion?

Atwood: There is extensive literature on resistance movements and people actively involved in them. One of the major narratives of the 20th century—and likely one of the defining stories of the 21st century—involves double agents or individuals working from within to dismantle corrupt systems. That’s exactly what Aunt Lydia becomes.

In one episode, we learn how Lydia transformed into the most influential Aunt turned mole within Gilead. Do you view her as an anti-hero or a villain?

Oh, “this is good,” “that’s bad”—it’s rarely so black-and-white. Most of us exist somewhere in between. It’s also true that well-intentioned actions can lead to harmful consequences.

The story focuses on girls being groomed to become wives of Gilead’s most powerful men. They’re taught how to appear prim and proper while serving the perfect cup of tea. Are you familiar with the online subculture of trad wives?

Oh yes. But when someone refers to a “trad wife,” they’re not talking about women in the 19th century. Back then, if you were a farmer, you needed a wife—someone to cook, garden, raise chickens, quilt. These were modest roles, requiring practical skills like repurposing every scrap of fabric. That’s very different from what modern self-identified trad wives believe they’re doing.

How would you describe what they’re doing today?

Well, it’s rather like Marie Antoinette pretending to be a milkmaid—it’s not authentic rural life. While some trad wives do engage in certain domestic tasks, they are far removed from running a 19th-century household. Most trad wives live comfortably in financially stable families; otherwise, they couldn’t afford the lifestyle.

The message of The Testaments is that “there’s nothing more powerful than a teenage girl.” Yet most women don’t fully grasp their own power during adolescence until later in life. Is there something you wish you had known as a teenager that you learned only later?

I don’t know. Many of the choices I made, a sensible person wouldn’t have made them. Deciding at age 16 to become a writer—especially in Canada, where no visible writers existed at the time—was unusual. So where did that drive come from? I think ignorance often protects you: if I’d known how difficult it could be or what the odds were, I probably wouldn’t have pursued it.

Maybe ignorance truly is bliss.

It can be. Willful ignorance differs from simply not knowing things—a common phase of adolescence, when you test ideas to see if they fit. The notion that you can be anything you want isn’t accurate. I couldn’t have been a ballerina—I get dizzy just turning.

What’s the best part about being in your 80s?

Friends and family. One important piece of advice: cultivate younger friendships. A lot of your older friends will pass away—they won’t be around forever. If you don’t make new, younger connections, you’ll end up quite alone.