The short story defies notions of the conventional linear plot line. The story does not follow a chronological structure, and in fact distorts time to enact Estelle’s experience. The story begins with Estelle remembering her and her coworkers’ conversation “the day before yesterday, that would be Wednesday,” while playing cards and eating lunch in the breakroom (164). The reader knows that it is Friday in the narrative present, but Estelle never locates herself otherwise. She doesn’t say what she is doing or where she is when she starts recalling this lunchroom scene. The story then shifts into the past as Estelle recounts her and her coworkers’ discussion. After the lunchroom scene ends, the narrative shifts back into the present; but again, Estelle provides no hint as to where she is or why she is recollecting this incident. Over the course of the latter four pages of the seven-page story, Estelle goes on to describe a series of her own rape fantasies. While these hypothetical scenarios are detailed (and located in space), they are only structurally related to each other via Estelle’s stream of consciousness; one fantasy in her mind begets the next. In these ways, the short story lacks a traditional framework. It ends with Estelle asking herself many of the same questions she asked at the start. The narrative’s cyclical structure enacts Estelle’s elliptical, meandering state of mind, and her inability to make sense of her own experience.

The short story ends on an ambiguous note and provides no overt resolution to its central conflict. “Rape Fantasies” is not interested in a high-action plot line. Indeed, the primary source of conflict originates from Estelle’s mind. She is simply trying to make sense of her own sexual desire in light of her fear of sexual violence. She spends the entirety of the story mulling over her rape fantasies, recalling her friends’ rape fantasies, and asking herself questions about what in fact constitutes rape, humanity, violence, and pleasure. By the story’s end, she’s come no closer to answering these questions. The story’s lack of resolution mirrors the society’s failure to appropriately address “rape culture” and to disrupt cycles of violence against women. Societal Misunderstandings of Rape, therefore, have caused Estelle’s misunderstandings of rape and left her in a state of confusion. Atwood uses this ambiguity to critique a culture that leaves women unequipped to process their own fear. Without a clear framework for safety or desire, Estelle can only circle the questions, never answering them.

Atwood incorporates humor into the short story to affect a satirical mood. The characters in “Rape Fantasies” make constant light of sexual violence. Their unserious way of discussing the topic over lunch enacts their own confusion regarding rape. At the same time, their use of humor challenges the reader to make their own conclusions about their regard for sex, desire, and rape. Estelle’s narration augments this effect. She laughs at her coworkers’ fantasies, makes jokes about the Virgin Mary, Jesus, smoking, and getting raped. For example, in one fantasy, she suggests that being raped is “one of the most significant moments in a girl’s life” (167). While Estelle’s use of humor conveys her discomfort, Atwood’s use of humor forces the reader to sit in the uncomfortable reality of how contemporary Western society regards rape. Rape is a joke and a punchline rather than a real sociopolitical issue. As long as society treats sexual violence against women in this way, Atwood’s story implies, men and women alike will continue to regard it as something to make light of. This tension is deliberate, as it reveals how emotional numbness through humor becomes a survival strategy.