The first matter of importance in answering this question is defining the most important terms: context and truth. Traditional dictionary definitions however are going to be of limited use to the exploration of this question particularly within the realm of theories of knowledge. Such definitions are limited not only by language but also by brevity. In many ways, fully defining these terms in more abstract terms will yield the larger answers sought after in the paper's question.
It is perhaps therefore best to begin by defining context as the set of realities and circumstances necessary to understanding all things. To fully grasp any one thing or idea, its context must be understood in terms of the way any viewpoint is informed by the perceptual, language, reasoning and emotional milieu in which the knower operates. Truth, for our purposes may be defined as a simple accordance with reality. Like context, however, truth too is a function of the impact of the ways of knowing on the knower. However, in order for the idea of truth to integrate more seamlessly with that of context, one might make the claim that the more about a given thing or idea's context that is understood, the more inherently true that thing becomes. So then, Atwood's claim is primarily correct in that the object of truth in any significant scope of knowledge or existence depends in fact largely on context.
The above implies not a little about both context and truth. Obviously, given these initial definitions, the ways in which the reality of a particular object is understood is largely linked to the degree of clarity of its context. An example of this can be found in art, where the context of a work's creation has enormous effect on the meaning of the piece to its recipient. George Orwell's Animal Farm is ostensibly a simplistic narrative about animals and their life on a farm. Only with some knowledge of the writer and the book's background and historical setting can we appreciate that it is in fact a satirical allegory of soviet totalitarianism and a critique of Stalinist rule. The more that is seen then of an object's surroundings and situation, the truer and more real that object becomes. It is however important to recognize that context has much to do with setting and therefore when it comes to an individual, the perceived reality of anything is profoundly correlated with that individual's background. Personal truth as opposed to universal truth is important because it shifts the role of context as well as truth.
For instance, I can see my keyboard with my eyes, feel the keys with my fingertips and hear the noise of each key with my ears. I can reason that the keyboard is here because I am using it. Furthermore if I only knew there was a computer in front of me, and I could not perceive it, I could still deduce the presence of the keyboard simply because of my previous knowledge that keyboards accompany computers. My perception of the existence of the keyboard as a finite, inanimate object then can be attributed to my personal knowledge of computers as well as to my ability to recognize the keyboard in a variety of ways. If I was a Chinese villager on the other hand, I might not have any idea of what keyboard is. Similarly, if I were in the 1960s, I might be asked where the rest of the typewriter was, or why my TV has a keyboard on it. So then, as mentioned before, context is largely determined by socio-historic background and location.
Linguistics make all of this more complicated. In the realm of reality, the term keyboard is only meaningful because it has a reference in English, which we have been acculturated to understand. On some level, if a man speaking only Chinese were sitting next to me, there would be no keyboard in front of him but rather a 键盘. Here, the language used carries little judgment or other values simply because there are very few connotations inherent in the word “keyboard”. Nevertheless, had I been trying to tell the Chinese man about my keyboard without having one physically present, my words become meaningless to his experience of a so called “real” keyboard.
Additionally, I have very little emotional connection to my keyboard. I know nothing about it through how I feel towards it on a sentimental level. So then, the keyboard - whose reality I can clearly perceive and reason - is still limited by emotion and language, both ways of knowing context. One example of this contextually born limitation is detachment or disassembly. If the keyboard is being used by a vagrant as a door-matt to wipe off his feet before he enters his tent, the cord has been cut and tied up to dry out his laundry and the keys are being used as pieces in a game of checkers, does this still constitute a keyboard? Are they just keyboard parts, or has the context of these things truly transformed them into something different?
