Camus wrote that "the world is ugly and cruel, but it is only by adding to this ugliness and this cruelty that we sin most seriously. ". Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on “Why violent video games should not be banned”? Get the original essay Dystopian novels can be both a mirror and a magnifying glass, reflecting our world and exaggerating certain aspects to create their nightmarish realities However, most dystopian fiction does not aim to simply add to the ugliness and cruelty present in the world. In fact, its aim is quite the opposite: to warn. against the grave “sin” described by Camus By observing a fictional universe, we are shown what our own existence could become if these warnings are not heeded The barren desolation of Cormac McCarthy's The Road and totalitarian oppression. from The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood are merely extensions of modern humanity. Despite the dystopian nature of both novels, the key themes of love and humanity are also present. It is this degree of hope that allows both works to be seen as warnings, rather than mere nihilistic prophecies of doom. Both written in the West in modern times, the novels and their readers focus on key issues of the day, such as the environmental problems facing the world and the increasingly questioned relationship of humanity with God. Contextualized by the nationalities of the novelists and by the right-wing, global policing of American politics in the decades surrounding the creation of both texts, there is a viable political reading of the novels as critiques of the dominant political structures under which they have been written: in the case of The Road, a critique of the consumerism and environmental abuses inherent in these systems, while The Handmaid's Tale focuses on the abuse of power and the reduction of human rights. The exploration of God, religion and their place in the 21st century is present in both of the novels. The Handmaid's Tale appears to be a warning against authoritarian societies arising from extremist monotheism, as seen for example in modern Iran. Atwood's Gilead, and its perversion of religion to control, highlights the dangers that can be created when religion is mistreated. Atwood herself says that "such dictatorships are initially accepted by justifying their actions in the name of their subjects' most cherished beliefs." However, it is not religion itself that seems to be criticized by Atwood, but humanity's practice of distorting ideologies for its own purposes. There are many conflicts in the novel between the use of religion to exploit and control and the humanitarian aspects that underlie religion: for example, the intentionally misinterpretation of biblical passages to justify the most mysterious practices of the Gileadian regime, such as surrogacy and public executions, is in direct conflict with the hope and love shown by Offred that helps her survive her oppression. The exploration of religion in The Road is altogether more complex and vague. The book is full of religious imagery and references to God, but could be viably interpreted by atheists and believers alike. Echoing Waiting for Godot, a strong existentialist thread runs throughout the novel, presented in the Beckettian and minimalist speech, the frequent use of ellipses and the seemingly abandoned world, but this is countered by the messianic figureof the Boy and the traditionally Christian themes of pilgrimage, love and hope. The devastated world in which the novel takes place could also be a commentary on God; either to support its existence or against it. The "barn and silent and unholy" earth seems to refute the concept of natural revelation, the idea that God's majesty is manifested and proven through the beauty of his creation, the natural world. The harsh, unforgiving landscape does not match the image created by Christian scriptures, which say that “the heavens declare the glory of God; the heavens proclaim the work of his hands” (Psalms 19:1) and that “since the creation of the world, the invisible qualities of God – his eternal power and divine nature – have been clearly seen, being understood from that which has been done” (Romans 1:20). However, a believer can point to the eternal power of nature which is demonstrated in the book both in the last section and in the fact that the world has outlived the human race, as proof of natural revelation. Certainly the allusions to God are deliberately cryptic (e.g. "If it is not the word of God, God has never spoken") - McCarthy does not appear to reveal a moral position on religion, only an exploration of the humanity's need for divinity. Perhaps the closest we get to his own ideas is when we read “There is no God and we are his prophets.” God is a human necessity, whether he exists or not. Dystopian fiction is often set in a world that has suffered some sort of disaster, a physical manifestation of the moral corruption that has taken hold. Both novels are set after man-made environmental disasters, but the details remain largely undetermined. This refusal to delve deeper on the part of both authors could be a sign that there are in fact too many possible causes to warn against, whether nuclear, climate change or otherwise. It may be that this lack of explanation is also a sign that such a disaster is inevitable and cannot be avoided or prevented. Through her description of the hellish "colonies" and the crucial decline in humanity's fertility that underlies Gilead's coup, Atwood makes an environmentalist point. His comments paint a “clear picture of what life will look like in the future if people continue to ignore the increasingly permanent damage to our ecological systems.” However, it is in The Road that humanity's relationship with nature is explored in more depth. Throughout the book, natural phenomena are depicted as hostile towards the characters, with a frequently used pathetic fallacy: "cold autistic darkness". Yet this animosity is a creation of humanity itself: it is because of its own actions that environmental problems have arisen. The ending of the novel seems completely incongruous: the poetic language and beautiful natural images contrast sharply with the novel's bleak outlook. It is here that we are shown the true meaning of nature: it is “older than man” and buzzing with “mystery”, which gives it a status far above humanity. An environmentalist might interpret this as an instruction to humanity to treat our environment with even greater respect than we have for ourselves. This ties into the idea of ​​consumerism and humanity's tendency to take without thinking of giving back. The Road takes place in a world devastated by this consumerism: capitalist societies have collapsed after exhausting their reserves of natural resources, but even then, The Man and The Boy are forced to live from the reclamation of the land, taking thisthat they can. Men have even taken consumerism to its extreme violence, turning to cannibalism to survive. One of the strongest representations of consumerism is manifested in the shopping cart: dilapidated, with its wheels falling off, it represents the faults of consumerism and the impossibility of its sustainability. However, it is just as strongly symbolized in the can of “Coca-Cola” that The Boy drinks. By referencing one of the companies synonymous with consumerism, and then describing it in such positive terms, McCarthy acknowledges the appeal of the consumerist lifestyle. “Really good” and “bubbly” are two of the most positive descriptions in the entire novel, but the fact that this experience is so fleeting and superficial is a further commentary on the limited nature of consumerism. The fact that trends of consumerism persist, even in a world that has been devastated by this very lifestyle, could be seen as both a warning and a pessimistic lament: we, the readers, are warned to change our consumerist habits, but are also exposed to the inevitability of our destructive flaws, leaving two equally viable but diametrically opposed responses to Camus' quote and the response given. A theme that both novels treat very openly is the relationship between parent and child. The bond between father and son is the very essence of The Road, and Offred's relationship with her daughter is the key to the survival of her personal identity. The beauty and intimacy of the bond shared between The Man and The Boy is almost inexplicably powerful. The child is entirely dependent on his father for his protection and survival and it is only through him that The Boy has contact with the world of the past, however tenuous it may be. However, The Man is also dependent on his son: his only goal is to take care of this child. He even said to his son: “If you died, I would like to die too”. The purity and simplicity of this dynamic, in the face of such a brutal and loveless world, is not only a powerful exploration of love but also a message to the reader: appreciate this love and cherish it above all else, because when everything else has disappeared. gone, it will still persist. The same value is emphasized in The Handmaid's Tale. Offred uses her memories and her love for her child to preserve her individuality amid Gilead's oppression. She has a reason to survive and rebel against the regime: to find her daughter. Even when she doubts whether the child is still alive, Offred's love for her daughter and need to continue reasoning proves stronger than her doubts. It’s another message of hope to overcome seemingly insurmountable adversity. However, the contrasting ways in which the two novels approach this theme speak volumes about their author's intentions. If this Parent/Child relationship is the central subject of The Road, where any revealed moral and social discussion plays a secondary role, it is the opposite in Atwood's novel, where the questions asked relating to the morality of the humanity seem more important. than the human problems that are included. With parental relationships being so central to both novels, one could argue that only reading a parent will fully experience both works and that those without children cannot access the novels on certain levels . The Handmaid's Tale is dystopian literature in its true sense. Echoing Orwell's 1984 and Huxley's Brave New World, it follows in the tradition of using its creation as a means of opening a moral debate; we are forced to review our own ethics and practices and re-evaluate them. Atwood's strict adherence to her factual basis ("I couldn't put anything in the novel that human beings hadn't actually done") shows that her intention.