The Testaments
⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ☆ ☆
The Testaments (The Handmaid’s Tale, Book 2) by Margaret Atwood
Much better the second time around. ✌️👍
On my first read, this book didn’t make a whole lot of sense, especially in the first half. That’s because a crucial detail about the story’s setting is never actually explained: it takes place 15 years after the events of The Handmaid’s Tale. (Kind of important, right? Would’ve been nice to know.)
Another thing that would’ve helped from page one is knowing who we’re actually following. The two younger girls in the story? They’re June’s daughters. Hannah, raised in Gilead, and the now-teenage “Baby Nicole,” raised in Canada, both living under new names. Instead, this is treated like a big surprise reveal halfway through. Which explains why the first half felt so confusing. When I reread the book knowing this from the start, it made way more sense and I enjoyed it more.
Here’s the kicker: this whole setup relies heavily on you having watched the TV show. Without that context, the book’s timeline and relationships are harder to follow.
The biggest letdown, though, is the epilogue. It covers the collapse of Gilead and the fates of all the major characters, past and present. Ironic, considering Margaret Atwood has said her main reason for writing The Testaments was to explain that very collapse. But once again, the epilogue assumes you’ve seen the show in order to fully grasp certain details. As a standalone, the book wraps up its own plot well. But as a sequel, it undermines the power of the first book, which was never meant to have a follow-up.
Sometimes the best ending is no ending.
Now, I’m not a fan of The Handmaid’s Tale, but I respect it as a good book, and a big part of what made it work was its ambiguity. Following a single POV from a lower-class character meant we only knew what she knew. That lack of information was intentional. It made us wonder. It forced us to question. It let us fill in the blanks with our imagination. The ending was the perfect mix of “fear for the worst, hope for the best.”
The Testaments, however, seems determined to answer every lingering question. It uses multiple POVs to fill gaps and leaps forward in time to tie up loose ends. Normally, that would be a good thing, but here, mystery was the first book’s greatest strength. By stripping away that ambiguity, The Testaments gives us the happy ending we never realized we didn’t want.
On the plus side: almost every technical aspect of The Testaments is stronger than its predecessor. The characters are richer and more emotionally developed. The narrative is tighter, with clearer direction and higher stakes. There’s more tension, more momentum, and everything feels more purposeful.
Individually, both books are good. But together, they clash. And while good, they could’ve been great. Honestly? Even though The Handmaid’s Tale was published over 30 years ago and The Testaments reads like an obvious cash grab (yep, I said it), the series would’ve been stronger if it had been a single novel, combining the worldbuilding and setup of the first with the tension and storytelling of the second. That would’ve made it a true classic.
