"The Yellow Wall-paper"

Full Answer Section

    Pushing open the door, I was met with a sight that sent a chill down my spine. My wife, usually so calm and composed, was standing on a chair, frantically peeling off the yellow wallpaper from the walls. Her hands were raw and bleeding, her face flushed with exertion and a wildness I had never seen before. "Jane," I called out, my voice laced with concern, "what on earth are you doing?" She turned to me, her eyes wide and a little fearful. "I'm getting rid of it," she said, her voice trembling. "The wallpaper, John. It's making me sick." I approached her gently, trying to calm her down. "Jane," I said softly, "you're not supposed to be up here, especially on that chair. Come down, and we'll talk about this." She resisted at first, clinging to the wall as if for dear life. But with gentle persuasion, I managed to coax her down and lead her out of the room. As we settled into the parlor, I tried to understand what had triggered this sudden outburst. Jane had always been fascinated by the yellow wallpaper, but I had dismissed it as a quirky obsession, an element of her artistic temperament. But now, seeing her in such a state, I realized that her fixation ran deeper than I had thought. "Jane," I asked, my voice gentle, "why do you hate the wallpaper so much? It's just a decoration." She shook her head, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and determination. "It's not just a decoration, John," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "It's alive. It's watching me, judging me, driving me mad." Her words sent a shiver down my spine. I had never seen her so delusional, so convinced of something that was clearly not real. The wallpaper was just a pattern, a design on the wall, yet she saw it as a menacing entity, a threat to her sanity. I tried to reason with her, to assure her that the wallpaper was harmless, but she was adamant. Her eyes darted around the room, as if she could still see the pattern creeping along the walls, watching her every move. I was at a loss, torn between my concern for her mental health and my respect for her autonomy. I didn't want to impose my will on her, but I couldn't let her continue to destroy the nursery while her mind was in such a state. After much deliberation, I decided to call Jennie, my sister-in-law, who was a trained nurse. Perhaps she could provide some insights and help us navigate this delicate situation. Reflection Stepping into the shoes of John, the narrator's husband, gave me a fresh perspective on the story. Seeing the events through his eyes, I could understand his concern for his wife's mental state and his struggle to balance her well-being with her autonomy. This exercise deepened my understanding of the story's point of view and narrative choices. It highlighted the unreliable nature of the narrator's perspective, making us question her perception of reality and the events unfolding around her. By shifting perspectives, we gain a more nuanced understanding of the characters and their motivations, allowing us to better appreciate the complexities of human nature and the fragility of the mind.  

Sample Answer

   

The scene: The narrator's husband, John, discovers her tearing down the yellow wallpaper from their nursery room.

The character: John, the narrator's husband

The tone: Concerned, puzzled, and slightly apprehensive

The narrative:

Sitting in my study, I heard what sounded like ripping fabric or paper – a persistent, tearing sound echoing from the upstairs floor. Curiosity piqued, I set aside my work and ascended the stairs, following the trail of noise to the nursery.