a short critique of

Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s 

"The Yellow Wallpaper" 

        This short story has a dull setting and it's content has little variety. In effect, the story itself is analogous to the yellow wallpaper; it's strange, ugly, has gaps, and is the sole focus of the reader's attention. Like the main character of the story who struggles to find meaning in the bizarre wallpaper, the reader of the story struggles to find meaning in this unusual text. And, amazingly, what at first seems like a boring plot device - a woman confined to rest therapy in an upstairs room with sagging wall paper - develops into a fascinating page turner with deep psychological, feminist and symbolic content.

        However, given the unreliability of the narrator, it's surprising that the reader makes any sense of the story at all, and yet it's clever ambiguity lends itself to multiple interpretations; the story poignantly describes a woman's descent into madness, or a woman's radical liberation over male domination, or an ironic commentary on the unreliability of a text (or wallpaper) in manifesting definite meaning to those who examine it. In effect, the reader imposes his or her own meaning onto Gilman's text.

        Humans have a natural inclination to make sense of their environment, especially if it's strange, and in the world of literature this includes finding meaning in a text. But, as Stanley Fish pointed out, there is no objective meaning in a text; any meaning discovered by the reader is subjectively created by the reader himself or herself (see Fish's "How to Recognize a Poem When You See One.")

        The main character in Gilman's short story is psychotic, so naturally she discovers, or rather imposes, meaning in the wallpaper which happens to be illogical and crazy; she sees creeping women trapped in the paper. And, again quite naturally, the reader of the story imposes meaning on the text; it could mean almost anything the reader wants it to mean.

        My personal interpretation, for example, is that the old wall paper represents the old canon of literature that was once rigidly defined and held in high esteem by English professors of the past. But this old wall paper must be torn away to facilitate the release of strange new texts that challenge the rigid definitions of "good literature;" new texts that challenge the very existence of a literary canon (see David Richter's "Theory of the Canon" in his book Falling Into Theory, pp. 123-124).

        What can we make of the main character's interrogation of the wallpaper and her studious obsession with its strange markings? Perhaps this is symbolic of modern scholars reconsidering old texts they had previously disregarded, digging deep in the musty old texts to find fresh meaning that is seemingly relevant to modern life. But if Fish is right, and distinct meaning is not embedded in any text, then perhaps scholars are creeping on all fours on a fool's errand.

short critiques of

ERNEST HEMINGWAY'S

short stories

SOLDIER'S HOME

       I enjoyed reading "Soldier's Home" because Hemingway's manner of writing isn't a stylistic superficiality; his style has inherent meaning and actually adds psychological depth to his characters. Regarding "Soldier's Home," for example, Thomas Strychacz notes that "the detached narrative voice matches Krebs' emotional deadness; its distanced, reportorial tone matches his own lack of involvement with his mother, the girls, and his own future" (see page 74 of The Cambridge Companion to Ernest Hemingway, edited by Scott Donaldson.)
       Perhaps the reasons for Krebs' emotional detachment are due to the symptoms of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (known as "shell shock" in Hemingway's day) and also because of his desire "to live along without consequences." Apparently Krebs didn't want life to touch him because life was painful and everything dies, a harsh reality he learned on the battlefields of war. To become numb and detached from life is one way to deal with stress.
       I love how Hemingway details the food and drink his characters consume in his stories. It's a common occurrence in many of his books and its not just a trivial filler (no pun intended). In "Soldier's Home" I like how the phrase "the bacon fat hardening on his plate" seems to symbolize the tense conversation Krebs has with his mother at the breakfast table.
       Trivia: Ernest Hemingway started his own writing career in 1917 at none other than The Kansas City Star newspaper.

HILLS LIKE WHITE ELEPHANTS

       I love how much power Hemingway placed in such a concise story as "Hills Like White Elephants." It's a great example of his direct, muscular writing style. Carlos Baker, the great Hemingway scholar, noted that "'Hills Like White Elephants' throws light into the nether regions of selfish human abnormality - which is one way of looking at the matter of abortion" (Hemingway, the Writer as Artist, page 141.) Baker made this proclamation in the early 1970s when abortion was a hot-button social issue. Baker may have been politically motivated when he made his comment because the Supreme Court was considering Roe v. Wade at the time but hadn't issued its final decision.
       The short story "Hills Like White Elephants" was first published in 1927 during the wild and woolly, hedonistic, roaring twenties. Perhaps it might not have been a successful publication if it had been published during a more conservative time.
       The theme of pregnancy complicating a couples' happiness is also presented by Hemingway in A Farewell to Arms. I won't give any details because I don't want to spoil it for you, but I whole heartily recommend it without any reservations.
       For an in-depth (and fictional) narrative about how an abortion affects an unmarried, loving couple, I recommend "The Wild Palms" by William Faulkner.

„Die verwünschte Ohreule“

(Eine ursprüngliche Geschichte hat Matthew Bishop geschrieben.)

            Ich bin in meinem bequemen warmen Auto nach Hause gefahren. Die Nacht ist kalt und regnerisch gewesen. Ich bin zu Hause sehr müde gewesen, weil ich den ganzen Tag gearbeitet hatt. Ich hatte kein Abendsessen gegessen. Ich bin um elf Uhr ins Bett gegangen. Ich bin um zwölf Uhr plötzlich aufgewacht. Ich hörte mitten in der Nacht komische Geräusche. Ich blickte durch das Fenster und sah in meinem Garten einen großen Vogel. Ich stand auf und zoß meinen blauen Bademantel an. Ich ginß nach draußen. Es ist im Herbst kühl und feucht nachts. Es regnet nicht. Der Vollmond am dunklen Himmel ist blaßgelb. Eine fette schwarze eklige Ohreule ist zwischen den Bäumen. Die Ohreule überraschte mich, als sie sagte: „Guten Abend.“

            Ich stellte höflich eine Frage: „Gnädige Eule, sind Sie ein gefährliches Tier?“

            „Nein, ich bin deprimiert, aber ein harmloser Vogel.“

            „Warum sind Sie traurig?“

„Ich bin sehr unglücklich, weil ich meinen Geliebten verliere.“

„Tut mir leid. Wie heißt er?“

„Er heißt Peter. Peter und ich sind ineinander verliebt. Jedoch hat eine böse Hexe sich auch in meinen Peter verliebt. Sie hat mich sehr eifersüchtig gehabt.“

„Das ist schrecklich!“

„Ja! Und die Hexe verzauberte mich. Sofort verwandelte ich mich in eine hässliche Ohreule. Ich habe keine Hände. Ich habe lange grün Klauen!“

„Das ist furchtbar!“

„Ja!“

„Haben Sie eine Heilung gesucht?“

„Ja! Alles Mögliche!“

„Sind Sie zum Arzt gegangen?“

„Nein, ich fürchte mich vor dem Arzt.“

„Das ist Albernheit!“

„Ich habe Angst gehabt, als ich Mensch gewesen bin.“

„Aber sind Sie jetzt nicht Mensch.“

„Nein, bin ich eine verwünschte Ohreule.“

„Dann fürchten Sie sich vor dem Tierarzt?“

„Nein.“

„Gehen wir zum Tierarzt?“

„Das hört sich toll an!“

Also ginßen wir am Morgen zum Tierarzt. Der Tierarzt hat ihre grünen Klauen herausgenommen. Sofort verwandelte sie sich in eine wunderschöne Frau und sie trug ein funkelnagelneues weißes Damenkleid. Sie sagte: „Ich bin ein emanzipierter Mensch!“ Sie war sehr glücklich und ginß zu ihrem Geliebten Peter zurück. Und sie lebten glücklich die ganze Zeit danach. Und die böse Hexe staib.