"Yellow Wall-paper" Assignment

     For this flashfiction assignment for Dr. Mackie's Fiction Writing course, we were supposed to retell Charlotte Perkins Gilman's short story "The Yellow Wall-paper" from a different character's perspective. I went with Charlotte's husband John, and this assignment was incredibly easy, given my familiarity with late-19th-century writing styles.

(John F. Gilman, M.D. writing in his diary.)

I have told Charlotte time upon everlasting that exercise depends on her strength; and that food depends somewhat on her appetite, but air, of course, she shall absorb all the time, having as much as she pleases. And the room is quite fine – large windows, and a yellow color in the wall-paper. What a trial it is to have a helpmeet who cannot perform her wifely duties as homemaker. It reflects quite poorly on my reputation as a physician with the populace of the town that Charlotte suffers from hysteria. Mary is a comfort and a pleasure to have around the house in her stead.

            She has not been undertaking her furious scribbling, which at least is some improvement. She is acting nearly deranged on occasions, however – that is troubling. Prattling on about something about the “woman trapped within the wall-paper” or some other such nonsense. I believe that more time in the natural elements should do her good; and what is more, Robert agrees with my assessment. Charlotte objects quite vehemently to this course of action, but after all, we are trained doctors with her best interests at heart, and naturally we know best.

            Perhaps leaving for Massachusetts will do her good, the quietude of the change of scenery should quiet her nerves. The humidity of this wretched Southern climate is beyond endurance, before the condescension and suspicion the local peoples have of my profession as John F. Gilman, M.D.  They will only require my services if one of their number has injured himself in a reckless game of foot-ball. The last boy didn’t last throughout the night, I have not slept in sixty-one hours. Presently I shall go upstairs to fetch Charlotte and we will make arrangements to be off. Much as I hate to lend credence to her absurd superstitions and fancies, there is something about this estate which is lacking in the proper grandeur. It makes me feel quite disconcerted. To top it all, Jennie has said something about the wall-paper coming loose. Not that it is any of my concern, and I have no intention of repairing it, as we are leaving on the morrow, but it smacks of disreputable tendencies which will not reflect well on me. If the trip does not help, or the following excursion to the esteemed Doctor Weir Mitchell’s sanitorium, then I believe I have no choice except to place her in an institution. Our carriage has arrived, so for now I shall conclude these writings and continue them at a convenient time. I will go fetch Charlotte henceforth.