The Yellow Wallpaper is a short story written by Charlotte Perkins Gilman and first published in 1892. The book is considered one of the major works of American feminist literature. It shows the thought in the 19th century regarding women's health, both physically and mentally.
The story is narrated in the first person as the writings in the diary of the protagonist, whose name we do not know. Her husband John, who is a doctor, has rented an old mansion for the summer and they both stay there.
There, the protagonist is forbidden to work and her husband forces her to eat well and exercise outdoors. Her husband diagnoses her with a picture of "temporary nervous depression" and he says that she has to recover.
In the mansion they settle in the children's room, which has bars to prevent the children from falling out of the window and is accessed through a small door at the top of the stairs. It is incomprehensible that they stay in a room that looks almost like a prison. There, in secret, she writes his thoughts in the diary.
The lack of mental stimuli will gradually diminish the mental health of the protagonist. She will become obsessed with things like the color yellow of the wall (so the name The Yellow Wallpaper) and begins to imagine that there are women in the drawings on the wall paper, even thinking that she is one of them, developing a quite severe psychosis...
0 hours 31 minutes (6234 words)
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Date added: 02-25-2022
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Charlotte Perkins Gilman, also known as Charlotte Perkins Stetson, was an American humanist, novelist, writer of short stories, poetry and nonficti...
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There comes John’s sister. Such a dear girl as she is, and so careful of me! I must not let her find me writing. She is a perfect and enthusiastic housekeeper, and hopes for no better profession. I verily believe she thinks it is the writing which made me sick!
I sometimes fancy that in my condition if I had less opposition and more society and stimulus—but John says the very worst thing I can do is think about my condition, and I confess it always makes me feel bad. So I will let it alone and talk about the house.
Now why should that man have fainted? But he did,and right across my path by the wall, so that I had to creep over him every time!
But I must say what I feel and think in some way — it is such a relief! But the effort is getting to be greater than the relief.