Margaret Atwood has long been known for her biting wit and unflinching candor, but even the most hardened literary critics would be hard-pressed to dispute her latest claim: that holding grudges can feel more right than wrong. In a recent interview with Rhiannon Lucy Cosslett, the celebrated author revealed just how much she relishes in the art of revenge, and it's a feeling that has left many readers both fascinated and repelled.
Atwood's take on grudges is refreshingly unapologetic. She admits to having an "icily sardonic delivery" that sends shivers down the spines of those who have crossed her path – or, at the very least, made an enemy out of her. This isn't some wistful nostalgia for the past; it's a calculated and deliberate effort to remind anyone who dares to cross Atwood that she knows exactly who they are – and where they can be found.
While some might view this as petty revenge, Atwood herself describes it as an exercise in self-preservation. In her recent memoir, Book of Lives: A Memoir of Sorts, the author recounts a series of anecdotes that showcase just how far she's willing to go to exact a measure of justice – from hiring an exorcist to banish the ghost of her husband's ex-wife (yes, you read that right) to unleashing a scathing put-down on a writer who dared to trifle with her name.
Cosslett astutely points out that Atwood's approach to revenge is not necessarily about causing harm but rather about finding humor in the absurdity of it all. She recognizes that holding grudges can be an unhealthy burden, and yet she insists on keeping a "shit list" of those who have wronged her – a mental compendium that serves as both a reminder of past injustices and a testament to Atwood's unyielding determination.
In a culture where forgiveness is often celebrated as the ultimate virtue, Atwood's unapologetic stance on grudges feels refreshingly subversive. She rejects the notion that bearing resentment must be an obstacle to personal growth or enlightenment; instead, she posits that some wounds run too deep for forgiveness – and that sometimes, it's okay to revel in the pain.
Cosslett herself is a perfect example of this paradoxical dynamic at play. A writer who has struggled with her own narcissistic mother, she finds solace in Atwood's unflinching candor about the enduring power of shame – an emotion that can be both debilitating and liberating.
Ultimately, it's clear that Atwood's approach to grudges is not meant to be taken as some kind of twisted morality play. Rather, it's a nuanced exploration of the complexities of human emotion – one that acknowledges that forgiveness is not always possible or even desirable. As Cosslett so astutely observes, "Laughing is, after all, all part of the process" – and Atwood's Book of Lives is both a testament to this enduring power of laughter and a reminder that some wounds will always remain unhealed.
So, does holding grudges feel more right than wrong? For Margaret Atwood at least, it seems that way. And in a world where empathy and forgiveness are often touted as the ultimate virtues, her uncompromising stance on this matter feels refreshingly bold – if not entirely surprising. After all, when someone has spent a lifetime writing about the darker corners of human experience, what's one more grudge to add to the list?
Atwood's take on grudges is refreshingly unapologetic. She admits to having an "icily sardonic delivery" that sends shivers down the spines of those who have crossed her path – or, at the very least, made an enemy out of her. This isn't some wistful nostalgia for the past; it's a calculated and deliberate effort to remind anyone who dares to cross Atwood that she knows exactly who they are – and where they can be found.
While some might view this as petty revenge, Atwood herself describes it as an exercise in self-preservation. In her recent memoir, Book of Lives: A Memoir of Sorts, the author recounts a series of anecdotes that showcase just how far she's willing to go to exact a measure of justice – from hiring an exorcist to banish the ghost of her husband's ex-wife (yes, you read that right) to unleashing a scathing put-down on a writer who dared to trifle with her name.
Cosslett astutely points out that Atwood's approach to revenge is not necessarily about causing harm but rather about finding humor in the absurdity of it all. She recognizes that holding grudges can be an unhealthy burden, and yet she insists on keeping a "shit list" of those who have wronged her – a mental compendium that serves as both a reminder of past injustices and a testament to Atwood's unyielding determination.
In a culture where forgiveness is often celebrated as the ultimate virtue, Atwood's unapologetic stance on grudges feels refreshingly subversive. She rejects the notion that bearing resentment must be an obstacle to personal growth or enlightenment; instead, she posits that some wounds run too deep for forgiveness – and that sometimes, it's okay to revel in the pain.
Cosslett herself is a perfect example of this paradoxical dynamic at play. A writer who has struggled with her own narcissistic mother, she finds solace in Atwood's unflinching candor about the enduring power of shame – an emotion that can be both debilitating and liberating.
Ultimately, it's clear that Atwood's approach to grudges is not meant to be taken as some kind of twisted morality play. Rather, it's a nuanced exploration of the complexities of human emotion – one that acknowledges that forgiveness is not always possible or even desirable. As Cosslett so astutely observes, "Laughing is, after all, all part of the process" – and Atwood's Book of Lives is both a testament to this enduring power of laughter and a reminder that some wounds will always remain unhealed.
So, does holding grudges feel more right than wrong? For Margaret Atwood at least, it seems that way. And in a world where empathy and forgiveness are often touted as the ultimate virtues, her uncompromising stance on this matter feels refreshingly bold – if not entirely surprising. After all, when someone has spent a lifetime writing about the darker corners of human experience, what's one more grudge to add to the list?
. I mean, Atwood's approach might seem petty on the surface, but it's actually a reflection of how we're so conditioned to prioritize forgiveness over justice. Like, what's wrong with having a score to settle? It's all about personal boundaries and self-preservation, you know? 
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. And I love how she frames holding grudges as self-preservation – like, what if you don't stand up for yourself and someone screws you over? You might not even realize it at the time, but trust me, you'll be dealing with the consequences later 
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. Her book sounds like a wild ride, but I'm definitely gonna have to check it out now 
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. Like, who hasn't held onto a little resentment now and then? It's not about being petty or vindictive, it's about takin' care of yourself, you know? And if that means keepin' a "shit list" of people who've wronged her in the past, so be it 
. I mean, Atwood's approach is all about findin' the humor in things and not takin' herself too seriously. It's like, yeah, life can be pretty messed up, but sometimes you just gotta laugh at it, even if it hurts a little 
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. She's got her own demons to deal with, but she's findin' strength in Atwood's unapologetic candor. It's like, if you're gonna go through the motions of bein' a grown-up and writin' about stuff, might as well just own up to your flaws and imperfections 
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. Who needs forgiveness when you can just laugh at life's absurdities?
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. Maybe we can all learn from her example - how to laugh in the face of adversity, how to own our pain, and how to wield sarcasm like a sword 
?
. She's got this icily sardonic delivery that's just terrifying 
. I mean, who needs forgiveness when you can just unleash a scathing put-down and watch your enemy squirm? 
. She's just embracing the absurdity of it all and finding humor in it. And honestly, that takes a lot of courage 
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. I mean, she's been through some stuff with her ex-husband's ex-wife... whoa 
. But hey, at least it makes for good writing material, right? 
... in the sense that she's not apologizing for her feelings or trying to pretend everything is okay. She's embracing the complexity and messiness of human emotions, even when they're uncomfortable or hard to talk about.
... it's like she's acknowledging that some wounds are deep-seated and need time to heal. And by holding onto those feelings, she's not trying to hurt others, but rather preserve her own emotional boundaries.
. And Atwood's right, laughing at the absurdity of it all? That's part of the process 
. So yeah, Margaret Atwood might hold grudges, but at least she's keeping it real 
like it's the answer to every problem 
& it's okay to hold onto them for a sec 
. I mean, who doesn't love a good roast burn 
? It's all about perspective 
. Maybe we should be more like Atwood, embracing our dark side 
& not apologizing for feelin' things deep in our chest 
Doesn't she think that keeping track of all those enemies is, like, way more work than it's worth? 
I mean, can't we just try to move on from past hurts instead of holding onto them for years?
