I had read “The Yellow Wall-Paper” in college but this was my first exposure to Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s other stories. “The Yellow Wall-Paper” is deservedly her most famous fictional work, but other early stories exhibit similar talents—a propensity for allowing characters to betray their hypocrisies through their own words, a gift for establishing the complex dynamics of a social group within a few pages. The later stories have some historical but no real literary interest: they are didactic little pieces intended to highlight the potential of feminism, mostly played out through the creation by upper-middle-class women of mini-utopias.
So, “The Yellow Wall-Paper”: a first-person narrator, not named, is writing secretly in her journal while confined to a large room, once a nursery or playroom, in a country house. Her loving (perhaps) husband, a physician, has brought her there for a rest cure, along with the husband’s sister who is acting as aide or perhaps jailer. The narrator becomes obsessed with the pattern of the wallpaper in the room and starts to weave fantasies about it, fantasies that tell us more about her state of mind than about the room itself. Everything is slippery in this story—relationships, external reality, the distinction between self and other. The reader is trapped in that room as the narrator becomes less and less reliable and her mental state disintegrates, both in the usual sense of disintegration and its more usual sense of dis-integration. What is real and what is mental illness? We can’t be entirely certain.
For the rest of the stories (there are 39 and I don’t propose to discuss them all), a few stood out for me.
• “That Rare Jewel” (1980) deftly lays out the perils of gender stereotyping through a marriage proposal as narrated in alternation by the young man and woman in question.
• “An Unnatural Mother” (1895) shows us how cruel people in a homogeneous society can be toward difference, as gossips condemn a woman who has died saving everybody in town simply because she doesn’t follow their norms, which are revealed through their own words to be internally inconsistent.
• “Through This” (1893) lays out in a first-person, moment-by-moment account how the myriad details a woman working in the home has to attend to over the course of a day can stifle any wider thought or ambition, leaving her mired in the ordinary.
• “An Extinct Angel” (1891) gleefully shreds the “angel of the hearth” myth that dominated expectations of female behavior through much of the nineteenth century.
• A later story, “A Council of War” (1913), is interesting for the on-the-ground view it gives of the radical branch of the women’s suffrage movement.
Charlotte Perkins Gilman led an extraordinary life for a woman of her era, starting with being raised partly by the activist Beecher sisters and moving through two marriages and three same-sex loves while coping with bouts of major depression. She had little formal education but clearly a very active mind that had little patience for the hypocrisies and lies of society, engineered to favor men over women. She was an important thought leader in feminism, women’s suffrage, and the labor movement who wrote and lectured extensively. Like many such women in her day, she had her blind spots, focusing almost exclusively on white, educated middle-class women and their aristocratic angel patrons. But the radical dreaming of such people created many of the movements that have dramatically expanded human rights in the twentieth century and beyond.