Yellow Wallpapers

The Yellow Wallpaper was written by Charlotte Perkins Gilman and published in 1892. It is quite a strange, creeping story. Written in the first person, it is the story of a woman who is mentally sick and whose physician husband has confined her to the upstairs bedroom in a mansion rented over the summer. She is forbidden from working and is only rarely allowed to have visits. She is also forbidden from writing, though she continues to write down her journal entries -- these entries are what tells us the story. Her doctor husband says she has a "temporary nervous depression--a slight hysterical tendency."

Over time, with nothing else to do, the woman becomes obsessed with the pattern and color of the yellow wallpaper in the room. In the end, she comes to believe that there is a woman held captive behind the patterns of the wallpaper--and eventually finds out that she is that woman. She has a total mental break-down and ends up creeping around in her own room, locked so that she cannot leave. "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." The story ends with her husband finding the key, coming in, then fainting at the weird sight of his creepy wife before him!

Quite an interesting story. Reading more about it on the trusted site Wikipedia, one finds that Charlotte Gilman actually wrote this story from her own experience. She had a mental breakdown and her doctor, Dr. S. Weir Mitchell, put her on a similar rest cure, forbidding her from painting or writing and allowing her only two hours of stimulation a day. Almost giving up after three months with this rest cure, Gilman decided to work again and eventually overcame her condition. She then wrote this story as a response to her situation and sent it in to Dr. Mitchell - but never received a response. Dr. Mitchell, apparently, never did change his methods...

I personally like this story a lot because of the mental insanity presented. It makes one stop to think about the mental capabilities of humans - and the possibilities of mental disease. Most of us think we live a "normal" life in a "normal" world but among us are those who suffer from some kind of mental illness or another - and we may not always know about it. Perhaps we're even partially to blame for giving these people a similar kind of "rest treatment." After all, mental illnesses are rarely openly talked about, the subject is taboo and if you've been clinically diagnosed as having some kind of mental disease, you're probably not likely to go around and tell everyone about it. Just as the woman in the Yellow Wallpaper was given this rest cure by her husband, so we may be giving each other the rest cure culturally by avoiding talking about certain subjects. And mental illness is just one of them.

But, what subjects, really, should we even openly talk about? America and the world, in general, has moved towards greater openness for many decades now - the progressive movement, the 20's, the 60's, the civil rights movement, the sexual revolution, feminism - have resurrected many topics from the tombs of taboos to public discussion. Feminism is another interpretation of The Yellow Wallpaper - while it is a story of mental disease, it is also a story of the repression of women by men inasmuch as the woman's husband is the one prescribing the rest cure and keeping her confined. Society has gotten better as we have become more open about such subjects. But are there limits?

Openness is good but --

Not if it leaves you out on the cold...

America has successfully rid itself of many yellow wallpapers - but are we going to far? Pushing our limits? Instead of just letting the old yellow wallpaper go, are we breaking down the wall itself? Pushing all limits until we find ourselves in the cold because we have too much freedom and no more shelter? Is it really a good thing to let the whole world know, via facebook, messenger or whatever, our most private thoughts and the intimate details of our relationships? Have we gone too far?
Or are there more yellow wallpapers to tear down still?

Daisy Miller: Meet Mazy Diller

The following is a modern rewriting and abbreviation of the original "Daisy Miller" story written by Henry James in 1878. Whereas the original story contrasts the upper class condition of Mr. Winterbourne to the newly rich condition of a flirtatious Daisy Miller, the following contrasts modern American feminism with Utah Mormon culture.  

Mazy Diller: A Study

    At the town of Provo, in Utah, there is a fairly well renowned university located, Brigham Young University. Attracting some 30,000 students throughout the year, there are currently far fewer students due to the time, it being the month of June. Ronald Summer was one of the few students who stayed in school this time of year. He had come from the state of Oklahoma to study and lived with his aunt, Mrs. Summer, in the tree streets close to campus. While he was a mid-Westerner by nature and custom, he had an old attachment for this metropolis of Mormonism; he had lived here for two years as a young teenage boy and was now back for college. Twenty-two years old and a returned missionary for his faith, he had been encouraged by his mother to go study at BYU to find a good Mormon girl to marry.
    At this moment, Ronald was tending to the needs of his aunt. She was usually very sick and when she had health she would either do her genealogy or try to convert the old man across the street from Presbyterianism to the Mormon Church. Occasionally, she would sew some clothes for that old man, Mr. Diller, and as she had a few items to return but did not feel disposed to leave the house in her current condition, she asked Ronald to return the clothes.
    Ronald walked across the street and knocked at the old man’s door which was presently opened by somebody unexpected: a young woman. She was his own age, dressed in tight black shorts and a yellow t-shirt. Her hair was blonde and her eyes signaled straight-forwardness and energy; she was strikingly, admirably beautiful.
    “What do you want?” asked the girl in a slightly impatient, yet not demeaning, tone of voice. “How hot she is!” thought Ronald, composed himself and replied, “Is Mr. Diller available?”
    “Yes he is. Just one moment,” said the girl and went back into the house to find Mr. Diller. Disappointed in himself for having let her go so quickly, Ronald soon found himself facing Mr. Diller at the door.
    “Yes?”
    “I am Mrs. Summer’s nephew. She asked me to bring you these,” said Ronald, pointing to the stack of clothes in his arms. Mr. Diller received the clothes, graciously, while Ronald tried to find an excuse to somehow see the beautiful girl again. Finally, he had an idea, telling Mr. Diller, “My aunt would be glad to help fix more clothes if you have the need.”
    “That’s very kind of your aunt. Why don’t you come inside while I look?”
    Feeling victorious, Ronald walked inside, closing the door behind him. He took off his shoes in the entrance room and looked around the living room while Mr. Diller went upstairs to look for more clothes. The living room was slightly dark; the only light it received was from the sun through the windows on the sides. Behind the living room, however, was a kitchen room lighted up and in the front of the kitchen room was a wooden table whereby the blonde girl was sitting, typing away on her laptop. She glanced up at him, with that beautiful mysterious smile, and then continued typing. It was clear to Ronald that her short glance, and occupation with the laptop, was not due to shyness; no, she seemed too independent a spirit for that to be the case. It was rather a firm commitment to the process of writing that propelled her to look up for just a brief amount of time.
    “Are you family to Mr. Diller?” Ronald asked, attempting to start a conversation.
    “Yes, I’m his granddaughter,” said the girl, without looking up.
    “What is your name?” he asked, trying to start a conversation again.
    “Just a moment, let me finish this up first,” she said. Her delayed answer to such a simple question seemed curious to Ronald. It seemed to reflect a firm independence of mind, an unrelenting commitment to finish first one’s own work before engaging with others.
    Another quiet minute went by until the girl seemed done with her present work. “I’m Mazy. Mazy Diller,” she said matter-of-factly. “What’s your name?”
    It turned into more conversation than Ronald had hoped for. He soon found out that Mazy did not live with her grandfather, but in an apartment at Wyview. She visited her grandfather in the weekend, however, apparently to fulfill a familiar duty and help him feel less lonely. She was originally from Virginia but had come to BYU for school. “I thought I’d try something different,” she said, with emphasis on he word ’different.’ She was majoring in accounting and preparing to apply to various business schools for graduate study. An economics major himself, Ronald found they shared some of the same interests and a discussion on the problems and solutions of the current financial crisis soon ensued—only to be interrupted by the arrival of Mr. Diller with a new stack of clothes for the fixing.
    “Well, I hope to see you on campus, it would be fun to continue this discussion,” Ronald told the girl and then got up his courage as he was about to ask her out. But she pre-empted him. “Yes, why don’t we meet at Olive Garden?” she asked with that same mysterious smile on her lips, a smile Ronald couldn’t quite tell the meaning of. Though not expecting to be the one asked out, Ronald assented and Mazy and he exchanged their contact information and planned a time to meet.
    Biding farewell to Mazy and Mr. Diller, Ronald went out with the new stack of clothes in his arms and said to himself that here was truly an independent girl.

His aunt, however, seemed less impressed. “The girl, yes,” said Mrs. Summer. “I have observed her. And kept out of her way.”
    He immediately perceived, from her tone, that Mazy was not very highly considered by his aunt. “It seems you do not approve of her,” he said.
    “She is not a member,” Mrs. Summer declared. “And she is hardly likely to ever become one.”
    “Why is that so?” said the young man.
    “She comes from a very politically progressive family,” she said, with a negative emphasis on the word ‘progressive.’ “Her parents never married; in fact they live like hippies. I hear she is very feminist and that her role model is Hillary Clinton. I don’t think she likes the Church either.”
    “But she is a student at BYU. She has signed the Honor Code.”
    “Perhaps so, but she does not seem like a person of honor to me.”
    “She is very pretty.”
    “She may be pretty, but mark my word, nothing good will come from a girl like her.”

Something good did come, however, in Ronald’s estimation. The first date with Mazy went well and it soon led to a second, which led to a third and then a fourth. He found that he liked her independent mind, her ability to speak and think for herself. He could listen to her for hours, looking into her bright blue eyes, admiring her beautiful blonde hair. He enjoyed her laughter when they watched funny movies together, her freshness and courage in trying all the tougher rides at the Lagoon, without pause; it was simply a thrill to experience life together with her.
    He also found, however, that his aunt was at least partially right. She did not seem a huge fan of the Church and openly accused the Utah culture for being too patriarchal and male-dominant. It did not shake Ronald too much, though it did cause him to wonder at times. But then he remembered her better parts, her beauty, and her compellingly attractive and independent personality - in spite of potential disagreements there did not seem to be any major reasons for stopping the process of getting to know her more.
    While Mrs. Summer was still suspicious, she seemed to reluctantly accept Ronald’s interest in Mazy. In fact, Ronald even had the two meet at his aunt’s house. True to form and to her faith, Mrs. Summer invited Mazy to come attend their local Mormon congregation. “If you want to know my nephew better, you should know more about our faith.” Mazy accepted without reluctance and they arranged for Ronald to accompany her to church the following Sunday.

“It’s called a testimony meeting. Anyone who wants to can get up and bear their testimony, or witness, of their faith,” Ronald explained to Mazy.
    What he did not expect, however, was for Mazy to take that as a challenge to walk up herself and bear her own kind of testimony. As Mazy approached the stand, Mrs. Summer gave Ronald a reproving look as if to say, “What is she doing up there?”
    Having arrived at the stand, Mazy started talking. “I am just a visitor but I would like to bear my witness of faith as well. I believe in Jesus Christ and in his love for us, especially in the example he has set for us to follow. Sometimes we do not follow that example very well, however.”
    “So far, so good” said Mrs. Summer, as though expecting things to get worse.
    “What many Christians tend to forget, however, is that Jesus spoke less about commandments and more about helping out the poor. Jesus Christ was ahead of his time, a true progressive. He set an example for us to follow in taking care of our poor and in his estimation of women. Women were equals among his disciples and…”
    Mrs. Summer stood up and made her way to the stand while Mazy continued her speech. Ronald sensed a potential confrontation looming. It did not look good.
    “Just as Jesus despised the male-dominant society of his day, putting Mary Magdalene and Martha in his inner circle of friends and disciples, so should we follow the teaching of love, compassion, tolerance and equality that Jesus exemplified—and work for a better world, a world of equality where women and men can stand as equals in the church and in our culture. As long as male dominance reigns in the churches and in the nation we are missing a very important part of the teachings of Jesus. ”
    Almost as soon as Mazy had finished her speech, Mrs. Summer stood at the podium to bear her testimony. Ronald prayed she wouldn’t say anything too offensive to Mazy but alas, he knew his aunt too well.
    “Dear brothers and sisters, I want to bear to you my testimony today of the importance of the Priesthood in my life. I have always appreciated the worthiness of my deceased husband and of all the other men in my family who have honorably held and exercised the Priesthood. I know that the Priesthood was restored from God through Joseph Smith and that we will be blessed as we submit ourselves to our Priesthood leadership. We live in a nation where morals are crumbling and the family is crumbling. What we need most of all today is a true understanding of the place of the family in society; of honor and respect to those whom honor and respect are due. A woman should never think herself superior to her husband for as Paul said, the head of the woman is the husband and the head of the husband is Christ. I know that when we keep sacred the order of the family we will be blessed and will prosper, but when we do not, we will experience the judgments of God upon this nation.”
    By now, Mazy was sitting down next to Ronald again. She looked him into the eyes with a stare of reproof whispering, perhaps a bit too loud, “I hope you don’t believe that.”
    “I wouldn’t say it quite the way my aunt put it, but I do believe in the Priesthood and in the traditional family,” Ronald said but wondered afterwards if it had been right of him to say that. Mazy seemed upset about the answer and turning her head away from Ronald she said “your aunt is a slave to your culture.”
    “And you are a feminazi!” whispered the aunt confrontationally as she arrived to sit back down on the aisle together with Ronald and Mazy. At this, Mazy stood up and walked out of the room. Ronald was just about to follow her, but Mrs. Summer stopped him. “Forget about her, she’s too far out. Besides, testimony meeting isn’t done yet. You should be reverent and stay till it’s over.”
   
That Sunday turned out the last time Ronald had any kind of serious contact with Mazy. Mazy was dismissive of him every time he contacted her by phone or by the door, all she did was express disappointment of the “Mormon culture” and how Ronald was no different. “I should have known,” she said one time.
    “Will you give me just one more chance?” asked Ronald.
    “I can’t. I’m done with this repressive culture and I’m done with you. As long as you believe in that repressive ‘Priesthood’ of yours I have nothing to do with you.”
    There was nothing to do. Disappointed and depressed, Ronald let her go. Nothing seemed to matter much anymore for a while. Instead of spending time with Mazy, Ronald now stayed more at home with his aunt, helping her sew Mr. Diller’s clothes. One day he spoke of her to his aunt—said it was on his conscience that he had done her injustice.
    “I am sure I don’t know,” said Mrs. Summer. “What kind of injustice that could be?”
    Ronald made no reply.

A few weeks afterwards, Mazy went back to Virginia for further graduate study while Ronald stayed in Provo, whence there continue to come the most contradictory accounts of his motives of sojourn: a report that he is “studying” hard—an intimation that he is much interested in a very clever theologically foreign lady.

The beginning

Each and every blog has a beginning - and perhaps an end. This blog is no different. Expect more to come...