It's a relief to find the Booker Award is not just some kind of retrospective justice for the failure to reward The Handmaid's Tale - and an even greater relief to find that the multiple narrative format of the novel is neither confusing (after the first dozen pages) nor pretentious. The extracts from newspapers and magazines which chart the public life of the Chases and Griffens provide a grounding in fact as well as a wickedly amusing satire on snobbery and provincialism. 'The Blind Assassin' itself, the novel that created Laura Chase's posthumous reputation, operates on twin levels of realism and fantasy and equally the main narrative in the person of her sister Iris unites past and present (1999). Atwood manages throughout to maintain a subtle and convincing mix of sympathy for, and detachment from, her characters, allowing irony to flourish alongside involvement. The reader is even flattered by the creation of mysteries which he/she is lured into solving before they are officially unveiled: 'But you must have known that for some time', Atwood writes disarmingly after uncovering the central deception. Of course we did: aren't we clever? Not quite as clever as Ms Atwood, though.