Read my old review below for more.
Final Score: 5/5
Original Review:
This... is seriously fucking deep and relevant.
'The Yellow Wallpaper' is one of the best allegorical stories about trapped and oppressed women I have ever read. Anyone who cares about gender studies should read it - and it is only twenty pages long. Twenty pale, yellow pages that are brilliantly well-written and creepy, patterned and knotted with as many layers of symbolism as the wallpaper.
Charlotte Perkins Gilman managed to identify what mansplaining is over a century before it was even named! Also tone policing. The husband of the woman protagonist, who suffers from postpartum depression, controls, demeans and belittles her into submission (he even calls her a little girl), as they rent an apartment for a few months. He essentially gaslights her into staying in a nursery room with ugly, nonsensical yellow wallpaper. It is there where he cuts her off from the outside world, "advises" (read: forces) her not to talk to anyone besides himself and his sister the housekeeper (whose own free will is put into question), tells her what to eat, tells her when to sleep, tells her not to do anything that will excite and stimulate her senses (like writing, which she does anyway by way of this first-person-written story, and hiding this from her husband exhausts her more than the actual writing itself), and he prescribes her all sorts of vague and numerous medicines - all under the pretence of helping her to get better from her "hysteria". Because he is a man, he is a physician, so obviously he knows best.
All the while claiming that he loves her.
Hysteria = womb.
Hysteria = Woman. Woman, stay in the kitchen and put up with your man and do what he says at all times, for the womb prevents brain usage, and too much thinking and feeling causes madness in the female brain. Causes rebellion. Also men just don't like women who are "difficult" and won't shut up; women who express themselves individually. Women who cry for help.
The hubby, stuck in the harmful Victorian mindset apropos of gender, is only making things a thousand times worse, of course. Human beings need socializing, need variety, need a stimulus. Active and creative humans need these. The unnamed woman this horror story centers on (we are not mistaken in assuming her to be Gilman herself, when knowing about her life) sinks deeper into madness, and her depression worsens. Her abusive husband is more to blame for her unhealthy fixations and relapses than the yellow wallpaper in her room. Old, rotting, shapeless, ghastly wallpaper she tries to figure out the pattern of, because it's not like she is given the luxury of keeping her mind occupied with anything else.
She imagines other women in the disfigured knots in the wallpaper. Trapped, creeping women like herself...
'The Yellow Wallpaper', as well as for women's rights, is a pioneer for medical progress, and against the stigma of mental illness, thus advancing its treatment. Depression, including postpartum, is normal and patients shouldn't be shamed or be made to feel subhuman and a burden on other people because of it. 'The Yellow Wallpaper' succeeds beyond the realm of fiction.
The horror element reminded me of my own younger self, back when I had more major OCD issues; like I would track patterns on the wallpaper anywhere, and peel bits of it and deliberately make scars. I would count anything, and never step on gaps in pavements. While I knew that these habits were not healthy or important, and that things like wallpaper are not alive, rational thought isn't really an instant cure. At least socialising, fresh air, exercising farther than my garden, and a loving family lessened my anxiety and sensitivity. School bullying and extreme low self-esteem contributed to all of this; I had to endure the awfulness of being young and not taken seriously until adulthood. I enjoy independence, but I need love like everybody else. Healthy, respectful love.
It's not just a matter of boredom; these obsessions, big and tiny, can take over your perception of reality if you're not careful. You end up worrying all the time, and that's no way to live.
It's no way to be free, both externally and internally. Your own mind can become a prison as well. Take great care of yourself, and of who you trust.
I love this short story because of its writing, and because I feel as if I could confidently say to the author, "Yes, I understand you". Unsettling to say the least, yet cathartic. It gives me a little hope.
The horror of 'The Yellow Wallpaper' is human and relatable. It envelopes and enfolds you, slowly, subtly and surely, long after you have finished reading it. It cages you, but then it sets you free by the pathway to education.
The destination is vastly, excruciatingly hard and seemingly neverending - it may even take centuries for any lasting change to stick without a cultural relapse - but progress is always possible, and you can learn along the road to a healthy recovery.
Final Score: 5/5
'The Yellow Wallpaper' is one of the best allegorical stories about trapped and oppressed women I have ever read. Anyone who cares about gender studies should read it - and it is only twenty pages long. Twenty pale, yellow pages that are brilliantly well-written and creepy, patterned and knotted with as many layers of symbolism as the wallpaper.
Charlotte Perkins Gilman managed to identify what mansplaining is over a century before it was even named! Also tone policing. The husband of the woman protagonist, who suffers from postpartum depression, controls, demeans and belittles her into submission (he even calls her a little girl), as they rent an apartment for a few months. He essentially gaslights her into staying in a nursery room with ugly, nonsensical yellow wallpaper. It is there where he cuts her off from the outside world, "advises" (read: forces) her not to talk to anyone besides himself and his sister the housekeeper (whose own free will is put into question), tells her what to eat, tells her when to sleep, tells her not to do anything that will excite and stimulate her senses (like writing, which she does anyway by way of this first-person-written story, and hiding this from her husband exhausts her more than the actual writing itself), and he prescribes her all sorts of vague and numerous medicines - all under the pretence of helping her to get better from her "hysteria". Because he is a man, he is a physician, so obviously he knows best.
All the while claiming that he loves her.
Hysteria = womb.
Hysteria = Woman. Woman, stay in the kitchen and put up with your man and do what he says at all times, for the womb prevents brain usage, and too much thinking and feeling causes madness in the female brain. Causes rebellion. Also men just don't like women who are "difficult" and won't shut up; women who express themselves individually. Women who cry for help.
The hubby, stuck in the harmful Victorian mindset apropos of gender, is only making things a thousand times worse, of course. Human beings need socializing, need variety, need a stimulus. Active and creative humans need these. The unnamed woman this horror story centers on (we are not mistaken in assuming her to be Gilman herself, when knowing about her life) sinks deeper into madness, and her depression worsens. Her abusive husband is more to blame for her unhealthy fixations and relapses than the yellow wallpaper in her room. Old, rotting, shapeless, ghastly wallpaper she tries to figure out the pattern of, because it's not like she is given the luxury of keeping her mind occupied with anything else.
She imagines other women in the disfigured knots in the wallpaper. Trapped, creeping women like herself...
'The Yellow Wallpaper', as well as for women's rights, is a pioneer for medical progress, and against the stigma of mental illness, thus advancing its treatment. Depression, including postpartum, is normal and patients shouldn't be shamed or be made to feel subhuman and a burden on other people because of it. 'The Yellow Wallpaper' succeeds beyond the realm of fiction.
The horror element reminded me of my own younger self, back when I had more major OCD issues; like I would track patterns on the wallpaper anywhere, and peel bits of it and deliberately make scars. I would count anything, and never step on gaps in pavements. While I knew that these habits were not healthy or important, and that things like wallpaper are not alive, rational thought isn't really an instant cure. At least socialising, fresh air, exercising farther than my garden, and a loving family lessened my anxiety and sensitivity. School bullying and extreme low self-esteem contributed to all of this; I had to endure the awfulness of being young and not taken seriously until adulthood. I enjoy independence, but I need love like everybody else. Healthy, respectful love.
It's not just a matter of boredom; these obsessions, big and tiny, can take over your perception of reality if you're not careful. You end up worrying all the time, and that's no way to live.
It's no way to be free, both externally and internally. Your own mind can become a prison as well. Take great care of yourself, and of who you trust.
I love this short story because of its writing, and because I feel as if I could confidently say to the author, "Yes, I understand you". Unsettling to say the least, yet cathartic. It gives me a little hope.
The horror of 'The Yellow Wallpaper' is human and relatable. It envelopes and enfolds you, slowly, subtly and surely, long after you have finished reading it. It cages you, but then it sets you free by the pathway to education.
The destination is vastly, excruciatingly hard and seemingly neverending - it may even take centuries for any lasting change to stick without a cultural relapse - but progress is always possible, and you can learn along the road to a healthy recovery.
Final Score: 5/5
No comments:
Post a Comment