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In her works Gilman, highlights that the harm caused by these types of treatments for woman i. Paula Treichler explains "In this story diagnosis 'is powerful and public. It is a male voice that. The male voice is the one in which forces controls on the female and decides how she is allowed to perceive and speak about the world around her.

It may be a ghost story. Worse yet, it may not. Lovecraft writes in his essay Supernatural Horror in Literature that "'The Yellow Wall Paper' rises to a classic level in subtly delineating the madness which crawls over a woman dwelling in the hideously papered room where a madwoman was once confined. Helen Lefkowitz Horowitz, in her book Wild Unrest: Charlotte Perkins Gilman and the Making of "The Yellow Wall-Paper" , concludes that "the story was a cri de coeur against [Gilman's first husband, artist Charles Walter] Stetson and the traditional marriage he had demanded.

Anglican Archbishop Peter Carnley used the story as a reference and a metaphor for the situation of women in the church in his sermon at the ordination of the first women priests in Australia on 7 March in St George's Cathedral, Perth. In another interpretation, Sari Edelstein has argued that "The Yellow Wallpaper" is an allegory for Gilman's hatred of the emerging yellow journalism. Having created The Forerunner in November , Gilman made it clear she wished the press to be more insightful and not rely upon exaggerated stories and flashy headlines.

Gilman was often scandalized in the media and resented the sensationalism of the media. The relationship between the narrator and the wallpaper within the story parallels Gilman's relationship to the press. The protagonist describes the wallpaper as having "sprawling flamboyant patterns committing every artistic sin".

Treichler's article "Escaping the Sentence: Diagnosis and Discourse in 'The Yellow Wallpaper'", she places her focus on the relationship portrayed in the short story between women and writing. Rather than write about the feminist themes which view the wallpaper as something along the lines of ". Treichler illustrates that through this discussion of language and writing, in the story Charlotte Perkins Gilman is defying the ".

This is supported in the fact that John, the narrator's husband, does not like his wife to write anything, which is the reason her journal containing the story is kept a secret and thus is known only by the narrator and reader. A look at the text shows that as the relationship between the narrator and the wallpaper grows stronger, so too does her language in her journal as she begins to increasingly write of her frustration and desperation.

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. The New England Magazine. Descent and Return in The Yellow Wallpaper". ProQuest Research Library online, Oct. October 4, , p. Archived from the original on 30 Aug Retrieved 30 August Retrieved 1 September Charlotte Perkins Gilman Society. Archived from the original on A Company of Players. Retrieved 12 October Tulsa Studies in Women's Literature.

The Omnibus of 20th Century Ghost Stories. Carrol and Graf Publishers Inc. The Yellow Wallpaper ed. Johnson, Greg Fall She complains that her husband John, who is also her doctor, belittles both her illness and her thoughts and concerns in general. She contrasts his practical, rationalistic manner with her own imaginative, sensitive ways. Her treatment requires that she do almost nothing active, and she is especially forbidden from working and writing.

As the first few weeks of the summer pass, the narrator becomes good at hiding her journal, and thus hiding her true thoughts from John. She mentions that John is worried about her becoming fixated on it, and that he has even refused to repaper the room so as not to give in to her neurotic worries.

She mentions that she enjoys picturing people on the walkways around the house and that John always discourages such fantasies. She also thinks back to her childhood, when she was able to work herself into a terror by imagining things in the dark. As she describes the bedroom, which she says must have been a nursery for young children, she points out that the paper is torn off the wall in spots, there are scratches and gouges in the floor, and the furniture is heavy and fixed in place.

As the Fourth of July passes, the narrator reports that her family has just visited, leaving her more tired than ever. John threatens to send her to Weir Mitchell, the real-life physician under whose care Gilman had a nervous breakdown.

It must be very humiliating to be caught creeping by daylight! I always lock the door when I creep by daylight. I can't do it at night, for I know John would suspect something at once. And John is so queer now, that I don't want to irritate him.

I wish he would take another room! Besides, I don't want anybody to get that woman out at night but myself. I often wonder if I could see her out of all the windows at once. But, turn as fast as I can, I can only see out of one at one time. And though I always see her, she may be able to creep faster than I can turn! I have watched her sometimes away off in the open country, creeping as fast as a cloud shadow in a high wind.

If only that top pattern could be gotten off from the under one! I mean to try it, little by little. I have found out another funny thing, but I shan't tell it this time!

It does not do to trust people too much. There are only two more days to get this paper off, and I believe John is beginning to notice. I don't like the look in his eyes. And I heard him ask Jennie a lot of professional questions about me. She had a very good report to give. John knows I don't sleep very well at night, for all I'm so quiet! He asked me all sorts of questions, too, and pretended to be very loving and kind.

Still, I don't wonder he acts so, sleeping under this paper for three months. It only interests me, but I feel sure John and Jennie are secretly affected by it. This is the last day, but it is enough. John to stay in town over night, and won't be out until this evening. Jennie wanted to sleep with me - the sly thing! That was clever, for really I wasn't alone a bit! As soon as it was moonlight and that poor thing began to crawl and shake the pattern, I got up and ran to help her.

I pulled and she shook, I shook and she pulled, and before morning we had peeled off yards of that paper. And then when the sun came and that awful pattern began to laugh at me, I declared I would finish it to-day! We go away to-morrow, and they are moving all my furniture down again to leave things as they were before. Jennie looked at the wall in amazement, but I told her merrily that I did it out of pure spite at the vicious thing.

She laughed and said she wouldn't mind doing it herself, but I must not get tired. But I am here, and no person touches this paper but Me - not alive! She tried to get me out of the room - it was too patent! But I said it was so quiet and empty and clean now that I believed I would lie down again and sleep all I could; and not to wake me even for dinner - I would call when I woke.

So now she is gone, and the servants are gone, and the things are gone, and there is nothing left but that great bedstead nailed down, with the canvas mattress we found on it. We shall sleep downstairs to-night, and take the boat home to-morrow. I have locked the door and thrown the key down into the front path. I don't want to go out, and I don't want to have anybody come in, till John comes. I've got a rope up here that even Jennie did not find. If that woman does get out, and tries to get away, I can tie her!

I tried to lift and push it until I was lame, and then I got so angry I bit off a little piece at one corner - but it hurt my teeth. Then I peeled off all the paper I could reach standing on the floor. It sticks horribly and the pattern just enjoys it! All those strangled heads and bulbous eyes and waddling fungus growths just shriek with derision! I am getting angry enough to do something desperate.

To jump out of the window would be admirable exercise, but the bars are too strong even to try. I don't like to look out of the windows even - there are so many of those creeping women, and they creep so fast. But I am securely fastened now by my well-hidden rope - you don't get me out in the road there!

I suppose I shall have to get back behind the pattern when it comes night, and that is hard! It is so pleasant to be out in this great room and creep around as I please! For outside you have to creep on the ground, and everything is green instead of yellow.

But here I can creep smoothly on the floor, and my shoulder just fits in that long smooch around the wall, so I cannot lose my way.

And then I said it again, several times, very gently and slowly, and said it so often that he had to go and see, and he got it of course, and came in.

He stopped short by the door. I kept on creeping just the same, but I looked at him over my shoulder. And I've pulled off most of the paper, so you can't put me back! John laughs at me, of course, but one expects that in marriage. You see he does not believe I am sick! And what can one do? Personally, I disagree with their ideas. But what is one to do? So I will let it alone and talk about the house.

There were greenhouses, too, but they are all broken now. We have been here two weeks, and I haven't felt like writing before, since that first day. I am glad my case is not serious! But these nervous troubles are dreadfully depressing. It is fortunate Mary is so good with the baby.

Such a dear baby! And yet I cannot be with him, it makes me so nervous. But he is right enough about the beds and windows and things.

But I find I get pretty tired when I try. I wish I could get well faster. But I don't mind it a bit - only the paper. There's sister on the stairs!

Of course I didn't do a thing. Jennie sees to everything now. But it tired me all the same. Besides, it is such an undertaking to go so far. I cry at nothing, and cry most of the time. It dwells in my mind so! It is repeated, of course, by the breadths, but not otherwise. It makes me tired to follow it. I will take a nap I guess. I don't know why I should write this. I don't want to. But the effort is getting to be greater than the relief.

It is always the same shape, only very numerous. But I tried it last night. That is why I watch it always. The fact is I am getting a little afraid of John. In the daytime it is tiresome and perplexing.

It creeps all over the house. It gets into my hair. I really have discovered something at last. I think that woman gets out in the daytime! And I'll tell you why - privately - I've seen her! I can see her out of every one of my windows! She said I slept a good deal in the daytime. As if I couldn't see through him! A strip about as high as my head and half around the room. How she betrayed herself that time! I quite enjoy the room, now it is bare again. How those children did tear about here!

This bedstead is fairly gnawed! But I must get to work. I want to astonish him. But I forgot I could not reach far without anything to stand on!

This bed will not move! Besides I wouldn't do it. I wonder if they all come out of that wall-paper as I did? I don't want to go outside. I won't, even if Jennie asks me to. Why there's John at the door!

It is no use, young man, you can't open it! How he does call and pound! Now he's crying for an axe. It would be a shame to break down that beautiful door!

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