The Ceremony
The Ceremony is the monthly ritual of sexual intercourse between Offred, the Commander, and Serena Joy, designed to impregnate Offred under the guise of biblical precedent. It is the central, legally mandated act of Gilead's reproductive system, stripping the Handmaid of personhood and reducing her to a vessel for the state's demographic goals.
Structure and Participants
The Ceremony takes place in the master bedroom, in Serena Joy's outsized colonial-style four-poster bed with a large white canopy sprigged with tiny silver flowers. The room smells of Lily of the Valley perfume, chilly and crisp. Offred lies on her back, fully clothed except for the healthy white cotton underdrawers. Above her, towards the head of the bed, Serena Joy is arranged, outspread, her legs apart. Offred lies between them, her head on Serena Joy's stomach, her pubic bone under the base of Offred's skull, a thigh on either side. Offred's arms are raised, and Serena Joy holds her hands, each of Offred's in each of hers. This is supposed to signify that they are one flesh, one being, but what it really means is that Serena Joy is in control of the process and thus of the product. The rings on Serena Joy's left hand cut into Offred's fingers. Below Offred's hitched red skirt, the Commander is fucking. Offred does not say making love, because this is not what he is doing. Copulating would also be inaccurate because it would imply two people and only one is involved. Nor does rape cover it: nothing is going on that Offred hasn't signed up for. There wasn't a lot of choice but there was some, and this is what she chose. Therefore she lies still and pictures the unseen canopy over her head, remembering Queen Victoria's advice to her daughter: Close your eyes and think of England. She wishes he would hurry up.
The Prelude: Household Assembly and Bible Reading
Before the Ceremony itself, the household assembles in the sitting room. The Commander is the head of the household, and the house is what he holds. Cora and Rita, summoned by the bell, resent it and have other things to do, but the Ceremony demands their presence. Nick also takes his place behind Offred, standing so close that the tip of his boot touches her foot, a contact she feels as her shoe softening and growing warm. Serena Joy enters, hobbling with her cane, and sits in her chair. She turns on the television to watch the news, which is the one good thing about these evenings for Offred. The Commander knocks at the door, a prescribed knock, as the sitting room is supposed to be Serena Joy's territory. He crosses to his large leather chair, takes a key from his pocket, and opens an ornate brass-bound leather-covered box to lift out the Bible, an ordinary copy with a black cover and gold-edged pages. The Bible is kept locked up, an incendiary device. He reads the usual story: God to Adam, God to Noah, the moldy old Rachel and Leah stuff. "Give me children, or else I die." "Behold my maid Bilhah. She shall bear upon my knees, that I may also have children by her." After the reading, the Commander says, "Now we will have a moment of silent prayer." Offred bows her head and closes her eyes, listening to the held breath and the almost inaudible gasps of Serena Joy crying behind her back. She prays silently: "Nolite te bastardes carborundorum." The Commander clears his throat to signal it is time to stop praying, says a final verse, and stands up. They are dismissed.
The Act and Its Meaning
The Ceremony goes as usual. Offred lies on her back, fully clothed except for the healthy white cotton underdrawers. Above her, towards the head of the bed, Serena Joy is arranged, outspread. Her legs are apart, and Offred lies between them, her head on Serena Joy's stomach, her pubic bone under the base of Offred's skull, a thigh on either side. Serena Joy too is fully clothed. Offred's arms are raised; Serena Joy holds her hands, each of Offred's in each of hers. This is supposed to signify that they are one flesh, one being. What it really means is that she is in control, of the process and thus of the product. The rings of her left hand cut into Offred's fingers. Below it the Commander is fucking. Offred does not say making love, because this is not what he's doing. Copulating too would be inaccurate, because it would imply two people and only one is involved. Nor does rape cover it: nothing is going on here that Offred hasn't signed up for. There wasn't a lot of choice but there was some, and this is what she chose. Therefore she lies still and pictures the unseen canopy over her head. She remembers Queen Victoria's advice to her daughter: Close your eyes and think of England. But this is not England. She wishes he would hurry up. The Commander fucks with a regular two-four marching stroke, on and on like a tap dripping. He is preoccupied, like a man humming to himself in the shower without knowing he's humming. It's as if he's somewhere else, waiting for himself to come. What's going on in this room is not exciting. It has nothing to do with passion or love or romance or any of those other notions. It has nothing to do with sexual desire, at least for Offred, and certainly not for Serena Joy. Arousal and orgasm are no longer thought necessary; they would be a symptom of frivolity merely. This is not recreation, even for the Commander. This is serious business. The Commander, too, is doing his duty. Kissing is forbidden between them. This makes it bearable. One detaches oneself. One describes. He comes at last, with a stifled groan as of relief. Serena Joy, who has been holding her breath, expels it. The Commander, who has been propping himself on his elbows, away from their combined bodies, doesn't permit himself to sink down into them. He rests a moment, withdraws, recedes, rezippers. He nods, then turns and leaves the room, closing the door with exaggerated care behind him, as if both of them are his ailing mother. There's something hilarious about this, but Offred doesn't dare laugh. Serena Joy lets go of her hands. "You can get up now," she says. "Get up and get out." She is supposed to have Offred rest for ten minutes with her feet on a pillow to improve the chances, but she's not in the mood for that. There is loathing in her voice, as if the touch of Offred's flesh sickens and contaminates her. Offred untangles herself from her body, stands up; the juice of the Commander runs down her legs. Before she turns away she sees Serena Joy straighten her blue skirt, clench her legs together, and continue lying on the bed, gazing up at the canopy above her, stiff and straight as an effigy. Offred wonders which of them it is worse for.
Thematic Significance
The Ceremony is the regime's central mechanism for controlling reproduction and, by extension, women's bodies and identities. It transforms a deeply intimate act into a cold, bureaucratic procedure, stripping it of any personal meaning or pleasure. The ritual's structure—with Serena Joy physically present and holding Offred's hands—explicitly enforces the idea that the child, if conceived, belongs to the Wife, not the Handmaid. The Ceremony is a performance of power, a public display of the Commander's authority and the women's submission. It is a violation that is legally sanctioned and socially mandated, leaving Offred with no recourse but to detach herself mentally and endure. The event reveals the profound emptiness at the heart of Gilead's project: a system that claims to value life and family but reduces human connection to a sterile, joyless transaction.
