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In The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman, the author, speaking in the first person, describes the rapid descent of a woman into madness. The woman is brought to a mansion in the countryside to rest, and to not rest is never an option.
As I read this story, I not only felt pity for the woman, but anger at her husband for his refusal to take her opinions seriously. He disregards her feelings not only because he is a physician, but perhaps more importantly, because she is a woman in a male-centric culture.
When they first move into the summer mansion home, the woman feels a sense of foreboding about the place. She then adds that her husband is a doctor, which makes him very grounded and not given to flights of fancy. Her brother is a physician as well, so of course, he sides with his physician brother-in-law, rather than his own flesh and blood, because she is only, after all, a woman.
The next obvious step would be for people to go from diagnosing themselves to treating themselves with roots and bark, just like the Indians did.
So, the doctor dismisses what we insist we know about our own bodies and develops his own scenario for our wellness, that may or may not have any basis in reality, and then he relentlessly pursues this scenario, regardless of whether the patient is showing signs of actual recovery or not.
The author uses sarcasm wonderfully, making the woman out to be trusting and innocent, blaming herself for what you and I would consider to be natural reactions to her situation.
One night, after telling her husband that she felt there was something strange about the house here again she tries to communicate her feelings about the environment in which he has placed herhe tells her that she must be feeling a draft, and closes a window, as if this will settle the matter.
I begin to feel how trapped she is in the protective custody of those who care for her, who smother her with good intentions. I know that once I see bars on the windows, the thought that immediately comes to my mind is: The key feature of the room is the horribly ugly yellow wallpaper, stripped off in some places, colored by sunlight in others.
The color earns the adjectives repellent, almost revolting, strangely faded, dull yet lurid orange and sickly sulphur. I can feel her horror at spending time in such a room. At this point I can feel the tension between husband and wife begin to rise, and a wall of separation starts to build between them as she removes herself from his care.
She has determined to start keeping her own counsel, as sharing with him only makes her appear to be more unwell, and accomplishes nothing. As a result she is more and more alone in the house, just her and that garish wallpaper. She often tells us of the truly beautiful places around the house that she can see through the bars of her windows, creating a marked contrast to the assault upon her senses that surrounds her bed.
In the meantime, her misguided husband is doing his level best to remove all stimuli from his wife, compelling her to invent her own.
Soon the woman is personifying the wallpaper, and it feels as if a dangerous bridge has been crossed.
I think we all share that ability with her, be it as innocent as childhood identification with a plush toy or as complex as the guilt one feels when replacing an older item in the home, or perhaps when trading in a car.
Not a good sign. She is left alone in that room for hours at a time with nothing to stimulate her senses but the creations of her own imagination, which soon take over the sensual void in her life. It is almost to be expected that this situation will lead to delusions and perhaps madness.
She literally has nothing in her life to occupy her mind, except her mind itself. At this point, the woman begins to feel sympathy for the wallpaper, perhaps a Stockholm syndrome of sorts. She sits on her bed, which has been thoughtfully nailed to the floor nailed to the floor!
Now her mind is becoming everything but straight. He insists that she is getting better, no matter what she feels.
After all, he is the doctor. How embarrassing it would be if his diagnosis and treatment were incorrect. She admits that her fixation with the pattern occupies her for hours, and that she no longer feels safe around her husband, or his sister. She imagines that they too are looking at the paper, and she begins to feel very possessive about knowledge of the pattern.
Life for the woman becomes more exciting, even mentally frenetic as the story nears its conclusion, as her mind is alive with stimuli, all of its own creation. Also, other senses are coming into play, as the woman begins to smell the paper everywhere, and her clothes are often stained with yellow gained from contact.
Her obsession with this invented world of the wallpaper is both frightening and mesmerizing. As her grip on reality begins to crumble, the woman sees the female figure in the wallpaper shaking the bars trying to break free in another metaphor for her own situationand then she begins to see the figure in dark spots around the house, always creeping.
At this point I knew that something really interesting was about to happen, and I was struggling to slow down my reading so that I could revel in it when it came. Her doctor husband faints and the woman creeps on along the walls.
I really enjoyed this story.The Yellow Wallpaper And Everyday Use “The Yellow Wallpaper” Charlotte Perkins Gilman “The Yellow Wallpaper” written by Charlotte Perkins Gilman is gothic psychological short story written in journal-style with first-person narrative.
Other elements used in the story are symbols, irony, foreshadowing, and imagery. “The Yellow Wallpaper is about a woman who suffers from postpartum.
A short summary of Charlotte Perkins Gilman's The Yellow Wallpaper. This free synopsis covers all the crucial plot points of The Yellow Wallpaper.
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Any item larger than a swatch printed with a design you uploaded automatically receives a 10% discount. In The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman, the author, speaking in the first person, describes the rapid descent of a woman into madness.
The woman is brought to a mansion in the countryside to rest, and to not rest is never an option. [On "Everyday Use"] [On "The Yellow Wallpaper"] [On Benjamin Franklin and the American Identity. THE YELLOW WALL-PARER. If a physician of high standing, and one's own husband, assures friends and relatives that there is really nothing the matter with one but temporary nervous depression - a slight hysterical tendency to use my will and good sense to check the tendency.
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