The Yellow Wallpaper [4]
get clearer every
day.
It is always the same shape, only very numerous.
And it is like a woman stooping down and creeping about
behind that pattern. I don't like it a bit. I wonder--I begin
to think--I wish John would take me away from here!
It is so hard to talk with John about my case, because he is
so wise, and because he loves me so.
But I tried it last night.
It was moonlight. The moon shines in all around just as the
sun does.
I hate to see it sometimes, it creeps so slowly, and always
comes in by one window or another.
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.
The faint figure behind seemed to shake the pattern, just as
if she wanted to get out.
I got up softly and went to feel and see if the paper DID
move, and when I came back John was awake.
"What is it, little girl?" he said. "Don't go walking about
like that--you'll get cold."
I though it was a good time to talk, so I told him that I
really was not gaining here, and that I wished he would take me
away.
"Why darling!" said he, "our lease will be up in three
weeks, and I can't see how to leave before.
"The repairs are not done at home, and I cannot possibly
leave town just now. Of course if you were in any danger, I
could and would, but you really are better, dear, whether you can
see it or not. I am a doctor, dear, and I know. You are gaining
flesh and color, your appetite is better, I feel really much
easier about you."
"I don't weigh a bit more," said I, "nor as much; and my
appetite may be better in the evening when you are here, but it
is worse in the morning when you are away!"
"Bless her little heart!" said he with a big hug, "she shall
be as sick as she pleases! But now let's improve the shining
hours by going to sleep, and talk about it in the morning!"
"And you won't go away?" I asked gloomily.
"Why, how can I, dear? It is only three weeks more and then
we will take a nice little trip of a few days while Jennie is
getting the house ready. Really dear you are better!"
"Better in body perhaps--" I began, and stopped short, for
he sat up straight and looked at me with such a stern,
reproachful look that I could not say another word.
"My darling," said he, "I beg of you, for my sake and for
our child's sake, as well as for your own, that you will never
for one instant let that idea enter your mind! There is nothing
so dangerous, so fascinating, to a temperament like yours. It is
a false and foolish fancy. Can you not trust me as a physician
when I tell you so?"
So of course I said no more on that score, and we went to
sleep before long. 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.
On a pattern like this, by daylight, there is a lack of
sequence, a defiance of law, that is a constant irritant to a
normal mind.
The color is hideous enough, and unreliable enough, and
infuriating enough, but the pattern is torturing.
You think you have mastered it, but just as you get well
underway in following, it turns a back-somersault and there you
are. It slaps you in the face, knocks you down, and tramples
upon you. It is like a bad dream.
The outside pattern is a florid arabesque, reminding one of
a fungus. 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.
That is, sometimes!
There is one marked peculiarity about this paper, a thing
nobody seems to notice but myself,and that is that it changes as
the light changes.
When the sun shoots in through the east window--I always
watch for that first long, straight ray--it changes so quickly
that I never can quite believe it.
That is why I watch it always.
By moonlight--the moon shines in all night when there is a
moon--I wouldn't know it was the same
day.
It is always the same shape, only very numerous.
And it is like a woman stooping down and creeping about
behind that pattern. I don't like it a bit. I wonder--I begin
to think--I wish John would take me away from here!
It is so hard to talk with John about my case, because he is
so wise, and because he loves me so.
But I tried it last night.
It was moonlight. The moon shines in all around just as the
sun does.
I hate to see it sometimes, it creeps so slowly, and always
comes in by one window or another.
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.
The faint figure behind seemed to shake the pattern, just as
if she wanted to get out.
I got up softly and went to feel and see if the paper DID
move, and when I came back John was awake.
"What is it, little girl?" he said. "Don't go walking about
like that--you'll get cold."
I though it was a good time to talk, so I told him that I
really was not gaining here, and that I wished he would take me
away.
"Why darling!" said he, "our lease will be up in three
weeks, and I can't see how to leave before.
"The repairs are not done at home, and I cannot possibly
leave town just now. Of course if you were in any danger, I
could and would, but you really are better, dear, whether you can
see it or not. I am a doctor, dear, and I know. You are gaining
flesh and color, your appetite is better, I feel really much
easier about you."
"I don't weigh a bit more," said I, "nor as much; and my
appetite may be better in the evening when you are here, but it
is worse in the morning when you are away!"
"Bless her little heart!" said he with a big hug, "she shall
be as sick as she pleases! But now let's improve the shining
hours by going to sleep, and talk about it in the morning!"
"And you won't go away?" I asked gloomily.
"Why, how can I, dear? It is only three weeks more and then
we will take a nice little trip of a few days while Jennie is
getting the house ready. Really dear you are better!"
"Better in body perhaps--" I began, and stopped short, for
he sat up straight and looked at me with such a stern,
reproachful look that I could not say another word.
"My darling," said he, "I beg of you, for my sake and for
our child's sake, as well as for your own, that you will never
for one instant let that idea enter your mind! There is nothing
so dangerous, so fascinating, to a temperament like yours. It is
a false and foolish fancy. Can you not trust me as a physician
when I tell you so?"
So of course I said no more on that score, and we went to
sleep before long. 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.
On a pattern like this, by daylight, there is a lack of
sequence, a defiance of law, that is a constant irritant to a
normal mind.
The color is hideous enough, and unreliable enough, and
infuriating enough, but the pattern is torturing.
You think you have mastered it, but just as you get well
underway in following, it turns a back-somersault and there you
are. It slaps you in the face, knocks you down, and tramples
upon you. It is like a bad dream.
The outside pattern is a florid arabesque, reminding one of
a fungus. 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.
That is, sometimes!
There is one marked peculiarity about this paper, a thing
nobody seems to notice but myself,and that is that it changes as
the light changes.
When the sun shoots in through the east window--I always
watch for that first long, straight ray--it changes so quickly
that I never can quite believe it.
That is why I watch it always.
By moonlight--the moon shines in all night when there is a
moon--I wouldn't know it was the same