Just like the narrator as a reader, when one comes into contact with a confusing and complicated text, one tries to find a single meaning. He thought I was asleep first, but I wasn't, and lay there for hours trying to decide whether that front pattern and the back pattern really did move together or separately. And dear John gathered me up in his arms, and just carried me upstairs and laid me on the bed, and sat by me and read to me till it tired my head. Hysteria was once a very common medical diagnosis ascribed to women who displayed certain unruly habits and behaviors or seemed to be suffering from a nervous condition. If you can imagine a toadstool in joints, an interminable string of toadstools, budding and sprouting in endless convolutions—why, that is something like it.
Personally, I disagree with their ideas. GradeSaver, 30 November 2008 Web. If denied the exercise of its functions, it can not develop in the fullest degree. Half the time now I am awfully lazy, and lie down ever so much. I have spent hours in trying to analyze it, to find what it smelled like. Weir Mitchell believed that nervous depression was a result of overactive nerves and ordered Gilman to cease all forms of creative activity, including writing, for the rest of her life.
Of course it is only nervousness. She didn't know I was in the room, and when I asked her in a quiet, a very quiet voice, with the most restrained manner possible, what she was doing with the paper--she turned around as if she had been caught stealing, and looked quite angry-- asked me why I should frighten her so! Personally, I disagree with their ideas. How she betrayed herself that time! I suppose John never was nervous in his life. I had a friend who was in his hands once, and she says he is just like John and my brother, only more so! I always fancy I see people walking in these numerous paths and arbors, but John has cautioned me not to give way to fancy in the least. She describes it in romantic terms as an aristocratic estate or even a haunted house and wonders how they were able to afford it, and why the house had been empty for so long. Besides, I don't want anybody to get that woman out at night but myself.
It is dull enough to confuse the eye in following, pronounced enough to constantly irritate, and provoke study, and when you follow the lame, uncer- tain curves for a little distance they suddenly commit suicide — plunge off at outrageous angles, destroy them- selves in unheard-of contradictions. Jennie wanted to sleep with me--the sly thing! There is one end of the room where it is almost intact, and there, when the crosslights fade and the low sun shines directly upon it, I can almost fancy radiation after all,--the interminable grotesques seem to form around a common centre and rush off in headlong plunges of equal distraction. My brother is also a physician, and also of high standing, and he says the same thing. There was some legal trouble, I believe, something about the heirs and co-heirs; anyhow, the place has been empty for years. I had no intention of telling him it was because of the wall-paper--he would make fun of me. As if I couldn't see through him I Still, I don't wonder he acts so, sleeping under this paper for three months. John is kept in town very often by serious cases, and Jennie is good and lets me alone when I want her to.
Out of another I get a lovely view of the bay and a little private wharf belonging to the estate. A streak that runs around the room. It used to disturb me at first. But the effort is getting to be greater than the relief. Also fun as a horror story.
Exceptional depiction of a mind gone wrong by a person who got her mind back to clarity--with a strong depiction of people who won't recognize the emotional and psychological hazards of life. But I can write when she is out, and see her a long way off from these windows. John was asleep and I hated to waken him, so I kept still and watched the moonlight on that undulating wall-paper till I felt creepy. She tried to get me out of the room — it was too patent! I get unreasonably angry with John sometimes. It is as good as gymnastics, I assure you.
I want to astonish him. I will take a nap I guess. It slaps you in the face, knocks you down, and tramples upon you. As the narrator tears away and peels at the wall, the yellow stain from the wallpaper transfers onto her clothes. .
Now he's crying for an axe. Having created in November 1909, Gilman made it clear she wished the press to be more insightful and not rely upon exaggerated stories and flashy headlines. There is one place where two breadths didn't match, and the eyes go all up and down the line, one a little higher than the other. I wonder if they all come out of that wall paper, as I did? It is quite alone, standing well back from the road, quite three miles from the village. Gilman realized that writing became one of the only forms of existence for women at a time when they had very few rights. The front pattern does move — and no wonder I The woman behind shakes it I Sometimes I think there are a great many women behind, and sometimes only one, and she crawls around fast, and her crawling shakes it all over.