Endogenous Targets of Transcriptional Gene Silencing in Arabidopsis
The Patriarchal Silencing and Isolation of the Madwoman
Transcript of The Patriarchal Silencing and Isolation of the Madwoman
The Patriarchal Silencing and Isolation of the
Madwoman
Introduction
What does it mean for one to be “mad”? The simple
dictionary definitions of the word offer only a slight insight
into the world of someone considered by society to be
mad. Dictionary.com defines “mad” as “Suffering from a disorder
of the mind; insane” or “lacking in restraint or reason;
foolish.” The only problem with these definitions, though, is
that there is no mention of the need for restraint, only the lack
thereof, or the necessity of incarcerating someone who is
considered mad. Yet, many “mad” people, especially women, are or
will be locked away – kept from a society in which they might be
able to flourish if they were not considered “mad,” receiving
therapy or some kind of treatment that might one day assist them
in joining society as “sane” individuals.
Madness--as a label or reality--is not conceived of as
divine, prophetic, or useful. It is perceived as (and often
further shaped into) a shameful and menacing disease, from
whose spiteful and exhausting eloquence society must be
protected. (Chesler 75)
The examples of women being treated in such a way are present
throughout literary history, many times as “fictional” pieces
that suspiciously mirror the life or experiences of the female
author. There have been two women writers in particular who have
voiced their opinions on the insanity and the treatment of women
through almost autobiographical fiction. Chronologically,
Charlotte Perkins Gilman came first. The author of the short
story, “The Yellow Wallpaper,” Gilman created a first-person
account of a woman’s descent into madness and the way she is
treated by those around her throughout her ordeal. Throughout
the story, the unnamed narrator is pitted against the main male
character, her husband John, over their differing viewpoints on
her condition and its treatment. As did many in the
19th Century, John is of the opinion that isolation and
simplicity will help to cure his wife of her “nervousness.” On
just the second page of the story, the narrator states:
If … one’s own husband, assures friends and relatives
that there is really nothing the
matter with one but temporary nervous depression – a
slight hysterical tendency – what
is one to do? … I take phosphates or phosphites –
whichever it is, and tonics, and
journeys and air, and exercise, and am absolutely
forbidden to ‘work’ until I am well
again. Personally, I disagree with their
ideas. Personally, I believe that congenial work,
with excitement and change, would do me good. (Gilman
10)
Although the narrator feels that she knows what is best for her,
she succumbs to the ideas of the male figure in her life out of a
sense of obligation and inferiority.
Sylvia Plath, writing The Bell Jar approximately sixty
years after Gilman created her unnamed narrator, brought the
treatment of depressed women and institutionalization to the
forefront with her vivid account of a young woman’s depression,
suicide attempt, and subsequent hospitalization at an
asylum. Just like the woman in “The Yellow Wallpaper,” Plath’s
protagonist, Esther, is a strong, opinionated, talented and
creative woman who mostly has no choice but to submit to the
treatments that are offered to her. On a number of occasions,
Esther is isolated from the people that she loves, either in an
actual hospital after her attempt at overdosing on pills, or in
an asylum. She spends most of the last quarter of the book in the
latter, hoping to cure herself and go back to being what she
considers to be the well-adjusted woman who existed before her
trip to New York.
The important point to note is that in both of these
texts, the women are silenced, isolated or “treated” by
men. There has been a need throughout time for the patriarchal
cultures that these women lived in to silence and isolate
them. If madwomen had a voice, a man’s culture would be
threatened by their intelligence. A patriarchal culture is based
upon the idea that the man is in charge – the breadwinner, the
head of the household. A woman who challenges this mentality is
refusing to conform to a patriarchal society’s standards of whom
she must be and therefore, in many instances, is considered mad.
Once a woman is considered mad, her voice exists to a man only to
upset the normal life that he has built and to challenge the idea
of the man being first.
The Opinions and/or Ambitions of the Madwoman
In the quote on the previous page, it is quite
obvious that Gilman’s narrator has her own opinions about how she
should be treated. “Personally,” she thinks that John’s ideas
are wrong. This narrator begins the novel as a strong woman, one
who seems determined to get “better” and see her baby. As the
narrator is all alone, with no one taking her side or asking for
her opinion, she is not allowed to write or to exercise her mind
in any way. Writing, in itself, seems to be a man’s job. In
their book, The Madwoman in the Attic, Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar
state,
Because they are by definition male activities …
writing, reading and thinking are
not only alien but also inimical to ‘female’
characteristics … If male sexuality is
integrally associated with the assertive presence of
literary power, female sexuality
is associated with the absence of such power.
(Gilbert and Gubar 8)
Gilman’s narrator is dealing with an absence of this literary
power, not being allowed to write while she is being “cured” of
her condition. Throughout the story, she makes references to the
fact that she must hide it when she is writing, for fear of what
her husband, the nanny or anyone else may think. She also hides
the fact that she is seeing something, or someone, in the
wallpaper, lamenting, “I had no intention of telling him it
was because of the wallpaper – he would make fun of me. He might
even want to take me away.” (Gilman 28) The fear of
incarceration has prompted this woman to keep her actions a
secret, letting them fester in her head until she almost becomes
the woman in the wallpaper, held in by bars. Toward the end of
the story, she describes the woman that she sees, telling us,
At night in any kind of light, in twilight,
candlelight, lamplight, and worst of all by
moonlight,it [the wallpaper] becomes bars! The
outside pattern I mean, and the woman
behind it is as plain as can be. (Gilman 26)
The narrator feels a certain sort of trepidation toward her
husband, who silences her and keeps her from performing the male
functions of reading and writing. The fact that she sees the
woman in the wallpaper behind bars just enforces the idea that
she is terrified of being locked away by her husband if his “rest
cure” fails to work.
Plath’s Esther, on the other hand, finds that it is
actually her “sickness” that keeps her from writing, which is
what she would like to do as a career, instead of getting married
and having children. As Esther starts losing more and more
sleep, her work begins to suffer and she even sees her
handwriting begin to decline. Esther’s ambition places her in a
tough situation, as men mostly dominate the world of writing at
the time that she is growing up. In becoming mad, Esther loses
her ability to perform the man’s roles of reading and writing and
ends up in an asylum, where she is least likely to be able to
feed her creative energies.
Conforming to the Female Role
As previously noted, a man silences Gilman’s main
character. Her husband John, also a physician, believes that she
should be isolated in their room, without contact with her baby,
and not allowed to work, or write, for the duration of the time
that she is there. The problem with this is that, through her
journal entries, the reader begins to feel that perhaps the
isolation is making her crazier, and the story ends with the
narrator, obsessed with the “people” she thinks live under her
wallpaper, climbing over John’s limp body after he has fainted at
the sight of her. John’s treatment of his wife seems close to a
treatment of S. Weir Mitchell’s, who actually treated Gilman
herself in 1887. Mitchell came up with what was called the “rest
cure” and people all over the world applauded it. The “cure”
itself included the following “key elements”:
…isolation, complete physical rest, a rich diet of
creamy foods, massage, and electrical
stimulation of disused muscles, and complete
submission to the authority of the
attending physician. All physical and intellectual
activity was prohibited. A patient was
lifted out of her own social and familial milieu and
transported to a neutral environment
tended only by a nurse and her doctor.
(Thrailkill 7)
The basic idea here is that a woman can become so burdened by
housework and the raising of children, that when her nerves
become stressed and/or she shows signs of hysteria, the only
possible treatment is to shut her away from the very things that
have made her “nervous” in the first place, thus enforcing the
theory that the man isolates the woman in the hopes of making her
“normal” again. Taking away the narrator’s right to create is
forcing her to conform to who John would like her to be – a quiet
woman in the room with the yellow wallpaper, easily swayed and
conveniently isolated. In this way, the narrator is being forced
to give up her ambitions by a patriarchal society and marriage
where the man dominates and the woman listens.
Esther is an interesting character in that she does
not conform to her society’s ideas of how a woman must live her
life in order to be considered “normal.” Unfortunately,
Christina Rivera-Garza noticed a very important point when
studying institutions from as early as the 1910s. She states in
her article that “General Asylum psychiatrists working during the
early 1910s detected symptoms of moral insanity in women who
failed to conform to the models of female domesticity” (Rivera-
Garza 657). In other words, when a woman decides not to conform
to the normal female roles that a patriarchal society expects,
she is considered mad and morally insane. Esther, with her dream
of becoming a distinguished writer, doesn’t stand a chance.
There are two important sides to Esther. She is torn
between doing what a patriarchal society expects her to do, which
is to get married and raise a family, keeping her pureness in
tact in the years leading up to such events. But the independent
side of Esther wants to have a career as a writer, and although
she repeatedly states that she “never wanted to get married. The
last thing I wanted was infinite security and to be the place an
arrow shoots off from” (Plath, 82), Esther also worries a great
deal about “pureness” and what is expected of her as a woman,
even stating, “When I was nineteen, pureness was the great issue”
(82). As a result of the fact that Esther is torn between two
identities – what is expected of her and what she actually wants
– she is oppressed by society around her and is seemingly
punished for not conforming to the normal female role of wife and
mother, by being isolated from the world that she knows and being
forced to succumb to electric shock therapy.
The men around Esther view her independence as a threat and
perhaps as one of the reasons that she has gone mad in the first
place. It seems to be implied that if she had just found a good
man and gotten married, her worries about such “unimportant”
things as writing and a career would not have driven her to a
suicide attempt. The silencing of Esther begins, first and
foremost, with Dr. Gordon.
Dr. Gordon is a character that deftly represents the
patriarchal pressures placed upon Esther. She has distrust for
Dr. Gordon from the very beginning of their doctor-patient
relationship. She says that she “hated him” the minute she
“walked in through the door.” (128) Dr. Gordon is a character
that holds Esther back, treating her like a child, even asking
her to send her mother in to his office after their second
session to suggest electric shock therapy, instead of bringing up
the subject to Esther during their appointment. He fails to
nurture her and relies on machines to make her better, instead of
communicating with her about her fears and feelings. As soon as
Dr. Gordon asks to speak to Esther’s mother (a conversation that
we find out later is about his notion of electric shock therapy
being the best thing for Esther), Esther says, “I didn’t like the
idea of Doctor Gordon talking to my mother one bit. I thought he
might tell her I should be locked up” (Plath 135). Again, the
reader is faced with the woman’s fear of isolation and silencing
at the hands of a man.
Dr. Gordon wants Esther to forget her pain through shock
treatments instead of easing or understanding it by herself. The
dialogue between Esther and Dr. Gordon is sparse and does not
seem to help Esther in any way, but even though the reader would
think that he doesn’t know that much about Esther or how she is
feeling, he suggests the electric shock therapy – quickly and
rashly, almost as if it is the answer for everything that could
be wrong with her. Esther tells him that she is not sleeping,
not eating and not reading, silently hating him for the happy
family photograph that is sitting on his desk. Esther’s behavior
is exactly the slight behavior that is exhibited by women who are
seemingly “punished” for their behavior. In her book, Women and
Madness, Phyllis Chesler addresses this problem:
… the real oppression of women--which leads to real distress
and unhappiness; the conditioned female role of help-seeking
and distress reporting--which naturally leads to patient
"careers" as well as overt or subtle punishment for such
devalued behavior; the double or masculine standard of
mental health used by most clinicians--which leads to
perceiving the distressed (or any) female as "sick," whether
she accepts or rejects crucial aspects of the female role.
(Chesler 148)
As she is not conforming to the normal female roles of simply
sleeping, getting married and having children, Esther is punished
with the electric shock treatments that she dreads from there on
out, until she meets Dr. Nolan.
Dr. Nolan is a female doctor who is very honest and upfront
with Esther. The differences between Esther’s treatment by Dr.
Gordon and by Dr. Nolan can be staggering. Through Dr. Nolan,
Esther receives the same kind of treatment that Dr. Gordon
inflicted on her, but instead of having such a horrible
experience, she finds that Dr. Gordon had the procedure performed
incorrectly. Dr. Nolan informs her, “If it’s done properly, it’s
like going to sleep” (Plath 189). When Esther’s doctor is
female, the shock treatments are calm and peaceful, but when her
doctor is male, they are horrid and painful. Plath is telling us
that treatment for madness in women is like punishment when
administered by a man, but can actually help a woman to grow and
recover when given by a female. Dr. Gordon and his treatment
silence Esther, as she doesn’t want to share her feelings anymore
for fear of it happening again.
Madwoman as Monster: Man’s Need to Make the Madwoman Ugly
The idea of the madwoman as a monstrous form is one
that is discussed in detail in The Madwoman in the Attic. In a
sense, the woman who has lost control of her senses, to a man or
to the patriarchal society in which she has been raised, is
naturally flawed, and is unable to get a good grasp on the life
that has been laid out before her – the life of marriage and
domesticity.
In a sense, the women in both The Bell Jar and “The
Yellow Wallpaper” transform into what the men in their lives
would consider monstrous forms. Throughout literary history, the
idea of a woman as a monster has graced the pages of many
works. This idea is perhaps best explained by saying that the
perception of female characters as monsters vilifies women and
exemplifies the man’s fear of woman. “Male dread of women, and
specifically the infantile dread of maternal autonomy, has
historically objectified itself in the vilification of women…”
(Gilbert and Gubar 34). It seems that these monstrous women are
not able to be trusted with their own health and/or well being,
in the minds of their male counterparts. For example, Bertha,
the madwoman in Bronte’s Jane Eyre, is kept a secret, locked away
in the attic. At one time a supposedly beautiful woman, Bertha
is reduced to almost non-existence by Rochester, who most likely
assumes that her isolation is for his own good as well as
hers. One has to wonder if his motives are truly selfish or just
those of a man who has grown up to believe that a woman should be
aesthetically pleasing to the eye. By feeding into a fear of
spending his lifetime with a monster such as Bertha, who “is
mad,” with her “shaggy locks” and “bloated features” (Bronte 439,
441), Rochester allows himself to silence his wife and isolate
her, with only Grace Poole as her companion and caregiver. This
image of the monstrous woman is very close to that of the
narrator in “The Yellow Wallpaper.”
At the beginning of the story, the unnamed narrator
of Gilman’s text seems to be a normal woman who disagrees with
her husband’s diagnosis of her “nervousness” and the rest
treatment that he prescribes. As the story moves on, though, she
becomes more and more agitated and grows to hate the room that he
has placed her in with the yellow wallpaper, of which she says,
“The color is hideous enough, and unreliable enough, and
infuriating enough, but the pattern is torturing” (Gilman 25).
The narrator’s transformation into a monstrous, insane woman
happens gradually, as she becomes more and more obsessed with the
people she thinks are “creeping” behind her wallpaper. At the
end of the story, the reader gets a chance to see just how
monstrous John thinks his wife has become, when the narrator
asks, “Now why should that man have fainted? But he did, right
across my path by the wall, so that I had to creep over him every
time!” (Gilman 36). As John has fainted at the sight of his
transformed wife, the reader becomes witness to the monstrous
image that has taken hold of her as a result of her silencing and
the fact that she feels too inferior to tell John of her
misgivings about her treatment.
Then there is the question of why the narrator
chooses yellow. Not only does the color upset and aggravate her,
but it is in stark contrast to the lush, green gardens and
“velvet meadows” (Gilman 18) that surround the colonial estate in
which she is being kept. In her article, “Managing Madness in
Gilman’s ‘The Yellow Wallpaper,’ Beverly Hume addresses this
question:
Why does this narrator choose ‘yellow’ instead of
‘green’? Although some critics have
suggested that the narrator’s response is the only
sane one possible in the domestic
and medical nightmare she describes, Gilman may also
have wanted to illustrate a final
and fatal error made by her ‘wise’ narrator, who
does, after all, consciously choose the
artificial daylight and domestic world of the yellow
wallpaper over that of the green
garden outside. This yellow world is one in which a
‘woman’ can only become
imprisoned, unable to recognize her rage, and unable
to move (or barely creep) beyond
her delusions. Transforming into this woman, the
narrator becomes as monstrous,
frightening, and unpredictable as she imagines the
yellow wallpaper to be. (Hume 3)
This point of view gives reason to the idea that the wallpaper is
what has made the narrator into a monster. In choosing to mull
over the yellow wallpaper instead of the lush greenery outside,
the narrator is allowing herself to be stuck in her prison,
inside the room with the wallpaper. The wallpaper looks ugly,
smells sour, and apparently, the yellow rubs off onto the married
couple’s clothes, but still it is what the narrator chooses to
focus on in her personal asylum. In concentrating so much on the
wallpaper and its “inhabitants,” the narrator becomes as ugly and
monstrous as the paper itself, allowing John and his idea of rest
as a cure to conquer her sense and logic.
At one point in The Bell Jar, Esther becomes monstrous as well,
before she is put into isolation at an asylum, when her physical
appearance changes from that of a normal young woman to the
unrecognizable face she encounters in a mirror after her suicide
attempt. Esther definitely has some issues with self-image, as
most of her worries throughout The Bell Jar have something to do
with the way others look at her. She worries about whether or
not she should stay a virgin, she always mentions what she is
wearing or how a lack of sleep is affecting her appearance, and
when she wakes up after her suicide attempt and looks in the
mirror, she breaks it after seeing what she looks like:
At first I didn’t see what the trouble was. It
wasn’t a mirror at all, but a picture. You
couldn’t tell whether the person in the picture was a
man or a woman, because their hair
was shaved off and sprouted in bristly chicken-
feather tufts all over their head. One side
of the person’s face was purple, and bulged out in a
shapeless way, shading to green
along the edges, and then to a sallow yellow. The
person’s mouth was pale brown, with
a rose-colored sore at either corner. The most
startling thing about the face was its
supernatural conglomeration of bright colors. I
smiled. The mouth in the mirror cracked
into a grin. A minute after the crash another nurse
ran in … Anybody could drop a
mirror. I didn’t see why they should get so stirred
up. (Plath 174-75)
One can infer quite a few things from this passage, the most
significant being that it could be that Esther doesn’t in fact,
drop the mirror, but actually breaks it in a fit of hysterical
rage that could be attributed to the state of mind that she is in
after her suicide attempt and isn’t cognizant enough to remember
doing so. The image of Esther as a monster is even more defined
by the use of words such as “supernatural” and “sallow
yellow.” Being preoccupied with her appearance to others has
affected Esther since even the very beginning of the novel when
she is in New York, worrying about how she fits in with the other
girls, who are “yawning and painting their nails and trying to
keep up their Bermuda tans” (Plath 4). The shock of seeing her
horrid and now monstrous reflection in the mirror seems to drive
her to have a fit, allowing her nerves to get the best of her,
making her the perfect candidate for
institutionalization. Esther is not only transformed into a
monster, but she also loses her identity as a woman when she
cannot distinguish whether or not the face in the mirror is
female. By destroying her monstrous form in breaking the mirror,
Esther is making herself into even more of a monster, violent and
unaccepting of the changes that have occurred within her psyche
and also to her physical self. Later, Esther becomes isolated
from the outside world, much like Bertha Mason and Gilman’s
narrator. The isolation of the monstrous woman is an example of
a patriarchal society condemning and punishing the women because
of their hideous transformations. In Esther’s case, it is after
her discovery of her appearance and the outburst with the mirror
that she becomes isolated in an asylum, which one can assume may
not have happened if she hadn’t thrown a fit at the sight of her
own reflection.
Childbirth, Virginity and the Domestication of Women
Can the idea of childbirth drive a woman mad? In the
case of Plath’s Esther, it just may have been one of the
contributing factors in her illness. Esther is reluctant to fall
into the female role of becoming a domesticated housewife and
mother. She often gets visibly upset about the fact that she
might someday be expected to marry Buddy Willard. Throughout the
novel, Esther makes comments about her fear of becoming a mother
and of falling into the role that will keep her from pursuing a
career as a writer. In having the dream of pursuing a career as
a writer in the first place, Esther is challenging the assumption
that women exist only to please and serve men. Esther is allowing
herself to treat the ideas of motherhood and domesticity as
choices in a society that often does not offer a choice. She is
trying not to succumb to the social pressure to adjust and
conform, or be judged as psychotic. As Esther worries that she
cannot be both a poet and a mother, the stress of it all drives
her further into madness. The expectations of women have made
Esther dread the idea of becoming a mother because she feels that
the larger life of being able to keep her career and have a
family at the same time is unattainable – she will have to choose
one or the other, and society expects her to choose the latter,
which is not the favorable choice in Esther’s opinion. Toward
the end of the novel, Esther speaks with Dr. Nolan about these
fears. “How easy having babies seemed to women around me! Why
was I so unmaternal and apart? Why couldn’t I dream of devoting
myself to baby after fat puling baby … If I had to wait on a baby
all day, I would go mad” (Plath 222). Esther is afraid that there
is something wrong with her because she does not want to have
children and from a patriarchal society’s viewpoint, she is
absolutely right. Her dreams of having a successful career are
not considered normal in the time in which Esther is coming into
womanhood. These comments come at the same time that she is
waiting to be fitted for a diaphragm, finally deciding that she
does not need to conform to society’s ideas of what she should be
as a young woman in the early 1960s – a virgin girl with a
yearning to get married and raise a family. In deciding to
pursue a purely sexual relationship with a stranger and to stop
seeing Buddy, she is taking what she feels is the first step
toward independence and relieving herself of the burden of her
virginity. As Esther climbs onto the examination table in the
doctor’s office to be fitted for her diaphragm, she thinks to
herself,
I am climbing to freedom, freedom from fear, freedom
from marrying the wrong person,
like Buddy Willard, just because of sex, freedom from
the Florence Crittenden Homes
where all the poor girls go who should have been
fitted out like me, because what they
did, they would do anyway, regardless… (Plath 223)
Esther has decided not to be a pawn in a man’s world. She
realizes that male ownership stems from childbirth and
family. The birth of a child gives the man power over the woman,
forcing her to stay at home in domestic suffocation and take care
of the child and her husband. By being fitted for a diaphragm,
Esther is ridding herself of the patriarchal ownership and
oppression that comes with motherhood, and also the virginity
that has weighed on her nerves for practically the entire novel,
becoming a free woman of her own accord.
In “The Yellow Wallpaper,” the narrator has already fallen
into the role of wife and mother, only to have it taken away when
John decides that she is contending with a bout of
“nervousness.”It is as if she is being punished for letting
herself get away from her responsibilities and delve into a world
where she is considered ill and unable to take care of her child,
but it also seems as though she does not really want to take on
her responsibilities as a mother. As she is kept away from her
child longer, she becomes more detached from reality and less
able to distinguish between real life and the life moving around
on the inside of the yellow wallpaper in her room. The life of
domesticity that she has seemingly been accustomed to thus far
has been taken away from her, and the effect that her isolation
has on her “unveils not only the ills of the rest cure treatment
and a repressive domestic culture … but also her hatred for a
domestic (and maternal) role she has no desire to assume.” (Hume
2) In a sense, the narrator has chosen a life of “creeping” over
the promise of a reunion with her baby at the close of her
treatment and the curing of her condition, as a result of the
fact that the treatment does nothing but isolate her, which makes
her more unstable.
Institutionalization and Isolation
As stated earlier, each main character – that of Gilman’s
tale and of Plath’s novel – is at some point kept away from the
actual workings of society and its day to day life as a result of
her sickness or state of mind. Keeping the madwoman locked away
has been a recurring theme throughout literary history, in many
reputable works. “By the end of the nineteenth and throughout the
twentieth centuries, the portraits of madness executed by both
psychiatrists and novelists were primarily of
women” (Chesler 73). For example, Gilbert and Gubar base the
name of their book, The Madwoman in the Attic, on the story of Bertha
Mason in Jane Eyre. In Hebrew mythology, the first woman, Lilith,
is banished for her refusal to conform to what is expected of her
by a patriarchal society. In “The Yellow Wallpaper,” the
narrator is kept in a room that she does not like in order to
make her rest and not work or take care of her child. And in The
Bell Jar, Esther spends a good amount of time in one institution or
another after her suicide attempt. It seems to be expected that
if the madwoman is put away long enough, she will emerge normal,
cured and without any underlying hysteria or depression, or
perhaps completely forgotten about, as in the case of Bertha.
Given the custodial nature of asylums and the anti-female
biases of most clinicians, women who seek "help" or women
who have "symptoms" are actually being punished for their
conditioned and socially approved self-destructive behavior.
(Chesler 79)
Isolation is often used as a punishment of sorts, forcing the
women to think that if they can “get better,” they will be able
to resume their lives as they were before their incarceration and
be relieved of their “self-destructive behavior.”
The asylum itself, according to Michel Foucault,
“must represent the great continuity of social morality”
(Foucault 257). By placing these women in institutions, the
patriarchal society in which they exist is supposedly protecting
morality and the normality of life itself. In putting all of the
madwomen in one place, “the asylum reduces differences, represses
vice, eliminates irregularities” (Foucault 258). The idea of the
asylum is a segregation of sorts in that it is a place where
people who have allowed their sicknesses to get the best of them
receive treatment together and without those who are perceived as
normal by society’s standards. The asylum can take different
forms, either as an actual mental institution or as a room where
someone is placed to overcome her sickness, like the narrator in
Gilman’s story.
Although the narrator of “The Yellow Wallpaper” is
not lumped together with other madwomen in an actual asylum, she
is isolated nonetheless, the hopes of her husband for rest to
cure her weighing heavily on her shoulders. The room that the
narrator is placed in “is a room whose wallpaper reduces an
artistic and articulate woman to a beast, stripped entirely of
her sanity and humanity and left crawling on all fours in
circuits … about the room” (Bak 1). The idea of the isolation
of the madwoman is where the Foucauldian concept of Panopticism
comes into play. The paranoia that can result from constant
supervision affects the narrator as the story and her illness
progresses. As her condition gets worse, she begins to think
more and more that she needs to hide her behavior from John, for
fear of being locked away. She tells the reader, “I always lock
the door when I creep by daylight. I can’t do it at night, for I
know John would suspect something at once” (Gilman 31). She does
not want John to find out that she sees someone in the wallpaper
for fear of being judged and watched even more closely, or
perhaps being put in an asylum with all of the other women
suffering from her nervous disorder. In an article that he has
written on the concept of Panopticism in “The Yellow Wallpaper,”
John S. Bak explores the idea of surveillance and paranoia. He
asserts that by the end of the story, the narrator has become a
“paranoid schizophrenic,” (Bak 4) and that,
In believing that she has finally broken free of this
internal prison – the Victorian mindset
her patriarchal society has instilled in her – she
has essentially released herself from the
external bars and rings that John (or all nineteenth
century men, for that matter) uses to
restrain her. (Bak 4)
The idea here is that the institutionalization and constant
observation of the narrator have caused her not only to progress
to a much more severe condition than she started out with, but to
fear and distrust her husband and the patriarchal values for
which he stands.
In The Bell Jar, Esther is not just placed into a room
by herself, but into two different asylums where she is
constantly looked after, judged and “treated” for her
depression. The bell jar itself is a symbol of isolation. The
idea of a bell jar – a glass vessel that is open at the bottom
and closed at the top like a bell, that is often used to hold in
important particles – is that something can be kept inside of it
successfully, and carefully observed. Because of her depression,
Esther feels that she is inside the bell jar, unable to connect
with the outside world, the society in which she has been brought
up, in any meaningful way except to offer an example of madness
to those around her.
Phyllis Chesler offers a discussion of asylums
in Women and Madness. She calls the effect of men being treated
like women in institutions “debilitating” but never answers the
question she herself asks: “What about the effect of being
treated like a woman when you are a woman?” (Chesler 75). As
women crowd asylums, many for not conforming to female roles of
domesticity, like Esther, it is often forgotten that the way that
mad people are treated as helpless human beings is exactly how
women have been treated throughout time. Chesler also says that,
in these asylums,
Experimental or traditional medication, surgery, shock,
insulin coma treatment, isolation, physical and sexual
violence, medical neglect, and slave labor are routinely
enforced. Mental patients are somehow less "human" than
either medical patients or criminals. They are, after all,
"crazy"; they have been abandoned by (or have abandoned
dialogue with) their "own" families. As such, they have no
way--and no one--to "tell" what is happening to
them. (Chesler 75)
And so the focus is brought back to the most obvious point. The
women that are placed in isolation seem to have given up on being
domesticated wives, mothers and pillars of society at some point
in time, and are therefore being punished for not conforming to
what is considered “normal” behavior for women. The isolation
and hospitalization of these women are forms of silencing the
stronger, more opinionated and more stubborn women who refuse to
accept the rules of a patriarchal society. Whereas isolation is
shown to the women in these literary works as a tactic that will
help to make them better and able to return to a more normal life
by society’s standards, they are actually being punished and shut
away to hide their abnormalities from the same society that
claims to want to help them.
Conclusion
The “madwomen” of literature have been treated as
inferior creatures to their male counterparts throughout literary
history. Plath’s Esther spends so much of her time worrying
about these men, the same men that have silenced her and
subjected her to treatments that may have even worsened her
condition, that it takes her actually putting herself first and
removing the men from the equation for her to leave her isolation
and return to society. Esther’s self-image and incessant concerns
about virginity, marriage and childbirth lend to the “sickness”
that worsens and then gets better throughout the novel. Gilman’s
narrator is also silenced by a male influence and shut away from
society, leaving her to wonder what others will think of her when
they learn of the thoughts and ideas that manifest themselves in
her mind as she is kept away in her yellow prison. Each woman’s
condition is made worse by the supposed treatment that she is
receiving from the various people in her life.
The patriarchal silencing of women throughout the
history of literature has lent to many feminist theories treating
the subject as an injustice to women and proof of the fact that
the male influences in their lives help to make them mad in the
first place. It becomes necessary for the madwoman to be silenced
so that the lives and values of men can be preserved.
In Women and Madness, Phyllis Chesler puts all of this in
perspective with examples from real life. She lists the names of
four women: Elizabeth Packard, Ellen West, Zelda Fitzgerald and
Sylvia Plath, and then states:
During the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, these four
women were hospitalized for various psychiatric "symptoms."
All were uncommonly stubborn, talented, and aggressive. Some
became socially withdrawn: they no longer cared how they
"looked," they refused to eat, they became sexually
disinterested in their husbands. One woman "heard" things.
Two others repeatedly attempted to kill themselves. Ellen
West and Sylvia Plath finally committed suicide when they
were in their early thirties. (Chesler 45)
These symptoms seem impressively similar to the symptoms seen in
Esther and in Gilman’s narrator. If this is what has happened in
reality, how far away can these texts be away from the
truth? Both The Bell Jar and “The Yellow Wallpaper” can be observed
as semi-autobiographical texts that almost warn the reader about
the treatment of women who are considered mad, abnormal or
nervous. Each writer is, in many ways, offering her opinion of
the treatment of these women through the craft of writing,
effectively showing the reader that it very much matters whether
one is male or female in the world of psychiatric evaluation and
treatment. And perhaps when the madwoman is no longer silenced,
the world will actually see that she was never mad in the first
place, just creative and independent in a world of patriarchy and
oppression.
Works Cited
Bak, John S. “Escaping the jaundiced eye: Foucauldian
Panopticism in Charlotte Perkins
Gilman’s "The Yellow Wallpaper.’” Studies in Short Fiction.
31.1(1994) 39.
Bronte, Charlotte. Jane Eyre. 1847. New York: Random House,
2000. Modern Library
Paperback Edition.
Chesler, Phyllis. Women and Madness. New York: Four Walls Eight
Windows, 1997.
Foucault, Michel. Madness and Civilization: A History of Insanity in the Age of
Reason. New
York: Random House, 1965.
Gilbert, Sandra, and Susan Gubar. The Madwoman in the Attic: The
Woman Writer and the
Nineteenth-Century Literary Imagination. 1979. Connecticut: Yale
University, 2000. Second Edition.
Gilman, Charlotte Perkins. The Yellow Wallpaper. 1892. New
York: The Feminist Press, 1996. Revised edition.
Hume, Beverly. “Managing Madness in Gilman’s ‘The Yellow
Wallpaper.’” Studies in American Fiction. 30(2002).
Plath, Sylvia. The Bell Jar. New York: Harper & Row, 1971.
Rivera-Garza, Cristina. “She Neither Respected Nor Obeyed
Anyone.” Hispanic American
Historical Review. 81.3-4 (2001) 653-688.
Thrailkill, Jane F. “Doctoring ‘The Yellow Wallpaper.’” John
Hopkins University Press. ELH 69.2(2002) 525-566.