Dark Star Safari

I have very mixed feelings about this book. For starters, I wasn’t able to complete it; I got about halfway through it, with detailed notes in the margins, but unfortunately I left the book in my apartment the day that I left to return back to the United States. So for the purposes of this short reflection, I will try to recall the highlights of what stood out to me from my reading of this novel.

One thing that I can definitely say about this book is that it is a page-turner. I found it to be a lot more interesting to read than the other two travel writing novels I read while in Italy - Perseus in the Wind by Freya Stark and certainly more than Italian Hours by Henry James. Paul Theroux gives a riveting personal tale of his journey from Cairo to Cape Town with a dry, sometimes cynical, humor. I laughed at some accounts and shook my head at others.

This book is a bit controversial and maybe even problematic for some to read, which is expected to be the case when you have a white American or European author describing his experiences of traveling throughout the countries in Africa, especially with the tone of being an “authority” without having actual lived experience. No matter what he encountered while there, he speaks from the vantage point of a privileged older white male and cannot separate himself from that nor could his reader. I recall a classmate saying “I would like to read a book like this that had been written by someone else.” (In other words, not a privileged white male.) I couldn’t help but think to myself “If someone else had written this book word-for-word, verbatim, even in the exact style that Paul Theroux wrote it, your reader-response would likely be different and maybe even more accepting.”

This novel is a great text for critical analysis using reader-response or even deconstruction theory. I feel almost certain that the people who felt a negative response to Theroux’s text, to the point that they found it problematic, were influenced more by the fact that they could not separate Theroux himself from his text rather than his writing delivery. But that is my reader-response on the people themselves who read this book, which is why my thoughts are subjective and neither right nor wrong, just like Theroux himself and others who read his accounts.

All of the above having been said, here are some of the things that I did question about Theroux’s judgements on what he and others may find problematic about Africa. One of the issues Theroux brings up frequently throughout his book is that of the aid programs in Africa which are monuments to European and American failure. (I did not put that phrase in quotes, because I cannot remember if those are his words or mine, but that is the implication that I got from Theroux when I read his accounts.) He rants and makes sardonic comments about aid workers in “white cars playing loud music” who don’t offer to give him rides. (He mentions this a couple of times when encountering other white travelers from Europe or America.) Theroux talks about the failure of aid programs as though he is an authority; however, unless he brings it up later in the book, which I only got through half, I don’t believe he ever mentions even visiting one of the aid projects or program offices.

Another thing that stood out to me was the text Theroux uses to try to convey the tone and pronunciation of the way someone from Egypt or the Sudan would talk to him. For instance, if someone said “There is no work here,” the text Theroux would provide to the reader would be something like this: Dey eez nuh wuk heah. (That is my best attempt to give an example since I do not have the book here in front of me to transcribe exactly as it is written; that is just my recall.) I made a connection to how Europeans and Americans perceive people from Africa based on the communication delivery and grasp of English language when I met a young man from Ghana who is living in Siena to finish earning his master’s degree. He specializes currently in the study of the trend of using Pidgin English in Ghana and how he believes it is compromising the official standard English among students there. He expressed to me that he feels it is lowering the intellectual potential of Ghanian students who use Pidgin English shortcuts to avoid the grammatical constructions of standard English.

I wish I could have gotten further with the book, and I may continue to read it and maybe finish it at a later time, but one quote that stood out to me was the expression “not yet” which I came across while reading. It made me think of a scene in the film Gladiator when the supporting character, played by Djimon Hounsou who portrays a hunter from Africa, tells the main protagonist, played by Russell Crowe, that Crowe’s character will see his family again in the afterlife but “not yet.” I feel like this has been a running theme for Africa, in general, for the centuries of colonization and imperialism it has endured. It has so much potential with the mineral resources, the vastness of the continent, and the intelligent minds that have emerged from there, such as the young man I met while in Siena. Perhaps one day Africa will have its time to flip the script on the western civilizations that have colonized it for centuries and emerge as a superpower in its own right but not yet, it seems...not yet. 

My day with Errol Flynn...(er, Kevin Kline)

Well, I'm finally writing about this. It's only taken me 2 years.

First of all, I guess I should tell you about the audition itself and how I won the role of "Jane Eyre" opposite veteran actor and Academy Award winner Kevin Kline who would be playing opposite me as "Lord Rochester" in a scene from Jane Eyre (retitled Master of Thornfield for the Broadway production we portrayed) as part of the biopic The Last of Robin Hood, which starred Kevin as middle-aged Errol Flynn. It showed Flynn in his final years and gave a glimpse into his love affair with teenaged Beverly Aadland (played by Dakota Fanning, with her mother Florence portrayed by Susan Sarandon.)

When I got the email notification in early December for the cast list and script sides with an invitation to audition from my agent, I was instantly excited when I saw that Kevin Kline would be starring as Errol Flynn. (It was not yet announced that Dakota Fanning would be co-starring.) The role I was asked to audition for was "Jane Eyre" and the casting director's notes were: "PLEASE DO YOUR RESEARCH! Director is looking for someone who has a combo of reticence, beauty and intelligence." That was it. No physical appearance preferences, such as brunettes, actresses over 5'4", etc. In other words, no specific physical characteristics within my type. It seemed fairly broad to me, and therefore, I thought "well, there are going to be hundreds of girls going after this, any one of them who could probably be about as right for it as I would." With that in mind, my instant elation deflated somewhat, and I rolled back over on my couch. I didn't think I would bother. I've literally auditioned HUNDREDS of times, getting makeup and hair professionally done, buying appropriate outfits, traveling, spending lots of money, etc., for auditions that never panned out. It gets wearing after awhile and certainly discouraging.

I casually told Opie about the audition while he was doing some editing, and he got excited for me. I told him I didn't think I would bother, because I certainly wasn't going to get it anyway. What happened next sort of surprised me. He said in a very loud stern voice "Get out of bed RIGHT NOW. If you don't get out of bed and do this audition, I NEVER want to hear you complain about not booking ever again." (I may be paraphrasing somewhat, but this was pretty much what he said.) I sat up and looked at him for a moment. He said "I'm serious. Get up. Show me what you can wear for a costume. I'll help you. We'll go over to Dean's to tape it; he has a good lighting set-up." So I got up. I got an old witch costume out of my closet (I figured it would have a good Victorian-era look to it) and then borrowing a page out of Scarlett O'Hara's book when she tore her mother's draperies down to go visit Rhett in Atlanta, I found some old curtain fabric in my closet and used it to wrap around my shoulders like a shawl. I pulled my hair back into a tight old-fashioned bun, put on some pretty but natural-looking makeup and some black ballet slippers and headed out with Opie to go tape at his co-worker's house.

I wish I still had the audition tape. I've saved so many auditions over the years that I didn't get cast for, but the audition that actually got me booked in a scene opposite one of my personal acting heroes is nowhere for me to find. The lighting was great and captured my eyes very well. I didn't do too many takes. It was a very simple audition. I had to try to look like I was staying in character during a scene between Jane Eyre and Lord Rochester while Flynn (who supposedly drank shots of vodka while performing onstage) struggled to remember his lines. I had a few lines, which I used an English accent for, but most of my audition was subtle facial expression, while I pretended to embroider. Tracy Kilpatrick was the casting director and didn't require a slate, which was actually kind of nice. I've never been a huge fan of doing slates, because it's just awkward. This way I could just stay in character for the scene without having to switch tracks and do a slate. I sent it in and in a few weeks, I got a callback to audition in person!

For the callback, I got in full costume again and drove to Atlanta to audition at a theatre. There was only one gentleman and another young woman there who were also invited to callbacks. We didn't talk much, just exchanged polite greetings and then waited after we signed in. I slid my eyes over to her to give her a once-over (you know, checking out the competition) and saw on her resume that her first name was also Hannah. Interesting. Later on I looked her up on IMDb and saw in her biography that she herself was from England. So was the director and producer, who also wrote the screenplay. I thought she had a good look for the part, so on top of the fact that she was already English and had some good credits on her IMDb page, I thought "well, it's flattering that at least I got a callback, because she's definitely going to get it."

When I went into the audition, there was the director (Wash Westmoreland), the producer (Richard Glatzer), and the casting director (Tracy Kilpatrick). They all were tickled about me being in full costume. I chuckled myself and said it's not very often that an actor gets to play dress-up for a performance. Before doing the audition, I told them a little bit about what I could find out about the English actress who I was portraying (Jan Brooks.) There wasn't much that I could find out about her, but I did find a picture of her with Errol Flynn in a few publicity shots for the Broadway play, Master of Thornfield (renamed as such because Flynn was the marquee star, not Jan Brooks who was playing Jane Eyre.) I told them the alleged story about how she never forgave Flynn for "ruining" her chances at mainstream stardom in America because of how his drunken behavior caused the play to flop after a 10-day run. (It'd be kind of like me getting my big shot at starring in a movie opposite someone like George Clooney, and then he makes a "hot mess" of it.) They seemed impressed that I knew about this. Then they got me to do the scene, with Tracy running camera and saying the lines opposite me. I did 2 takes, I think, with a little bit of adjustment from Wash to make my facial expressions even more subtle, like I was barely cognizant of the fact that "Flynn" was destroying the scene. After my 2nd take, he was literally jumping up and down and pumping his fist in the air, like it was exactly what he wanted. I figured that was a good sign, and I thought of it as a successful audition, but I still didn't think I would book it. It's just happened too many times before, where I would do a great audition, leave walking on air feeling like I nailed it, and then never hearing anything back. This would most likely be the same thing. Despite this resignation, I still couldn't help following the cast and production news of the film as it was released in Backstage, The Hollywood Reporter, etc.

Several weeks, if not more than a month, passed by.

Then one afternoon, I got a call from my agent, and she told me that they wanted me for the role of Jane Eyre. I was so excited that I think I asked if she was serious. Then I asked her if she would tell my boyfriend herself, just in case he didn't believe me. I gave him my cellphone and heard him laugh a little, and then he said that was really good news. Finally! I won one!!

For preparation, I read the book Jane Eyre, found out everything I could about the actress I would be portraying and how the production of Master of Thornfield went, and I also got dialect coaching and basic embroidery lessons from a British friend of mine, who is a costume designer in Savannah.

During the first week of February, I went to Atlanta for my costume fitting, and then a day or two after that, I showed up for my scene. I got my own little dressing room in an old building on the same floor as Dakota Fanning. I got my hair done in the same trailer where all three of the main stars were at. When I stepped up into the trailer, Kevin Kline was sitting in a makeup chair next to Dakota Fanning, who smiled but remained seated. Susan Sarandon was chatting with the stylist who was doing her hair. Kevin stood right up with a big smile on his face and extended his hand to me. He was so gracious and polite that whatever nerves I felt started to fade away. I sat in the chair by him, and we exchanged some pleasantries about me coming from Savannah and how he was there once before for filming (The Conspirator) and how much he liked it there. We discovered something we had in common: we'd both performed in a movie about Abraham Lincoln that was filmed in Savannah. (I had a main supporting role in Abraham Lincoln vs. Zombies.) Then we talked about the scene. I told him that Jane Eyre was a very simple girl from around the Northern part of England, so I used a very strong accent, trying to imitate the accent I heard from a senior theatre student who was from Manchester (Northwest England) during my time at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art. I might be flattering myself, but he seemed impressed. He even played around with different dialects himself. We practiced a few times running lines, which was so awesome for me. I thought I was just going to get ushered onto set and go straight into the scene with him. I didn't think I'd have a chance to run lines with him, so that was cool.

The rest of the day went by fairly smoothly. We filmed onstage at the beautiful Fox Theatre in downtown Atlanta. I was in a long, simple, not uncomfortable dress, so it was easy to sit and wait until they were ready for me. I chatted with Dakota some and greeted Susan Sarandon after a break in filming. She and Dakota were sitting in the audience so that their close-ups could be taped watching our scene. (In the story, my character stole the role of "Jane Eyre" from Dakota's character even though Flynn pushed for her, so her mother Florence wasn't too happy about it. It was kind of funny.) When I walked off the stage as Susan was leaving, I said in a playfully haughty voice "I'm sorry I stole the role from your precious little Beverly." She looked up a little startled and then chuckled some and smiled at me. I then said "Hello, Ms. Sarandon, from one 'Janet Weiss' to another" (referring to The Rocky Horror Picture Show she starred in with Tim Curry at the beginning of her career.) She said "Ahh, were you in that?" And I said "Yes, I was in a local production as Janet Weiss some years ago." So we chatted a few minutes, and I made a comment about her cute little dog, which followed her almost everywhere around set.

Kevin was a treat to meet and work with. He kept making these grunting voices in "drunk" character, even when we weren't filming, and it was making people laugh, especially me. He'd joke with me a little bit and gave me some good advice about my career. He told me that he'd had a similar conversation with Robert De Niro a long time ago, whom he referred to as being very sweet and quiet in contrast to the hot-tempered gangster characters he's played, and that even though he enjoys giving advice to young actors, he never does so unless they ask. I thought that was really cool. I couldn't help but reflect on a few of the times I'd worked with actors whose primary experience came from college and community theatre, but nonetheless, they were just chock-full of expert advice for everyone on topics ranging from method acting to how to play "drunk", "crazy", etc., whether you asked for it or not. It's amazing how much more humble and respectful the truly successful professional actors I've encountered over the years can be. He also told me how he was a bit in awe of John Cleese and Michael Palin (who were already icons due to Monty Python) when he worked with them on A Fish Called Wanda but that they were very sweet.

There was an extra line in the book that I'd remembered, relating to the scene, and I asked him if I should go ahead and add it in or if I should ask first. He told me to go ahead and do it. I told him that I was such a fan of his Oscar-winning performance as "Otto" in A Fish Called Wanda, and I asked him if some of the crazy stuff he did was scripted or if he just did it as improv (for instance, that backward roll he did in John Cleese's driveway.) He said it wasn't scripted. I asked him if he asked the director if it was ok or if he just did it. He said "never ask, just show them." As I continue forward with my career, I'm going to remember that.

We did the scene a few times for different angles of the camera. I only got one note from Richard Glatzer, which was to project my voice just a bit more (it took some doing, being on that big main stage of the Fox Theater.) It was a challenge getting my vocal projection to match against a veteran Broadway actor like Kevin, especially since I wasn't using my own native dialect. When my scenes wrapped, I got the customary applause from the set, but there was just something particularly awesome about seeing Kevin Kline applaud enthusiastically for me. He was very complimentary and encouraging to me the whole time. I couldn't have asked for a better experience, especially working with an actor of his caliber. The whole day was just really cool. After many times of not getting booked on various local theatre productions and low-budget films, it was a very validating experience to not only get booked on a paying SAG movie production but to be trusted to work with a top-notch Hollywood cast using a foreign accent. I couldn't help but think about the times I'd attempt to use an accent for local theatre shows in another town I lived in, and my boyfriend would tell me I needed to keep practicing so I could become better. So I did. And I still do. One thing that I've learned over the years is that you can keep getting your ego assuaged and pampered by filling your resume full of mostly shows and creative works that were produced by friends and family, but not really grow, because they're going to tell you that you're amazing anyway. However, if you really want to feel like a professional in this business, you have to take some risks, force yourself to become better and make rigorous adjustments, even when it's not comfortable, and then put yourself out there to be rejected by strangers who have a lot more to risk, since you're an unknown potential liability. Therefore, when they cast you and put their faith in you, it's far more validating. It may not happen again for a while, but after that booking, I feel like if I could get cast in that one, I can get cast in another one, and so on. When I was at RADA, there were a few people in my training group who didn't handle the blunt British criticism they were given by our drama coach, who was one of the main teachers at this prestigious school which has trained actors such as Alan Rickman, Anthony Hopkins, and Sean Bean, among others. They either got angry or defensive or they cried. One of them got flown back to her country of origin, paid for by RADA, because she was so combative. One girl kept telling the teacher how she was always told she was a "great actor" back home and got upset when the teacher told her she was pretentious and not believable. Her ego was getting in the way. By the time she softened up a little bit and tried to be more malleable and humble, the teacher was already done with her, which was unfortunate, but that's what happens sometimes.

As a cast gift, I gave Kevin and the producer/directors, Wash and Richard, framed copies of the original Broadway playbill for Master of Thornfield, which I made to look authentic and vintage, with Opie's help. We put them in a convection toaster oven for a few minutes to "age" them. I autographed Kevin's (wrote a cheeky note onto it in relation to our characters) and the directors' copies and got Kevin to autograph a copy for me and for a really good theatre friend who's a big fan also.

So, there you have it! The film was in post-production for a few months and then had its world premiere at the 2013 Toronto International Film Festival, which I was invited to attend but sadly couldn't make it, partly due to misplacing my passport and also because I was very close to finishing my pilot training for my checkride. At the end of the day, it was just a missed opportunity to walk the red carpet, and I've walked a few of those already, even if I haven't yet walked the really big ones. It's the opportunities to create and perform an iconic character opposite one of your longtime acting heroes that are far more special. :)

(I added some photos of me with Kevin Kline on set as well as the original photos of Errol Flynn and Jan Brooks during promotion of Master of Thornfield.)

original playbill

THE YELLOW WALLPAPER - A research paper examining the legacy of Charlotte Perkins Gilman

Early Feminism vs. 19th Century Medical Patriarchy: 

A Closer look at “The Yellow Wallpaper” and the Legacy of Charlotte Perkins Gilman

When looking to gain perspective about the proto-feminism that existed in 19th century literature, such as Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s “The Yellow Wallpaper”, it is important to evaluate the patriarchal systems that existed in Gilman’s time, the medical attitudes toward women which influenced her work and even examining Gilman’s own life that shaped the legacy she would leave as a benchmark for advancing the women’s rights movement.

Patriarchal themes resonate throughout Gilman’s “The Yellow Wallpaper.” The first example of the patriarchal system that is evident is the narrator’s acquiescence to her husband and brother’s medical diagnosis and recommended cure treatment, even though she does not agree with it. She states her opinion of what would be best for her recovery by beginning with the word “Personally” but is even more so repetitive with the question “what is one to do?” (310). She repeats this latter phrase three times on the first page but the assertive term “personally” twice, which shows that her deference to the patriarchal order outweighs her own ideas of how her health care should be handled. Prior to the 20th century, men assigned and defined women’s roles and expected submission on the part of women to imply “vulnerability and dependence on the patriarchal head”, which would apply also to accepting a prescribed cure from an authoritative medical figure (Thomas). The concept of diagnosis is a verbal formula representing a constellation of physical symptoms and observable behaviors. It is a powerful and public male voice that privileges the rational, the practical, and the observable. It is the voice of male logic and male judgment which dismisses superstition and refuses to see the house as haunted or the narrator’s condition as serious (Treichler). The typical neurasthenic patient’s symptoms might include fever, exhaustion, nervousness and pallor, and these were therefore assembled to produce a “diagnosis.” In contrast to her husband’s rigidly mannered and socially accepted behavior, the narrator’s energetic imagination is a “sprawling flamboyant pattern” (311). Rather than validating his wife (patient’s) voice on how serious her condition is, she is silenced, which sheds light on how women’s voices were censored regarding mental health issues during this cultural time (Green).

The narrator at first attempts an “artificial feminine self” (Treichler) by speaking in quiet reserved tones and refraining from crying around her husband. She keeps her language structure in a very feminine context by deferring to her husband and brother’s medical judgment, even though she disagrees: “So I take phosphates or phosphites...Personally, I disagree with their ideas. Personally, I believe that congenial work, with excitement and change, would do me good. But what is one to do?” (310)

The fact that she makes a casual referral to the ugliness of the wallpaper - being observant of the room decor - seems an inherent and acceptable feminine thing to do. Ripping the wallpaper from the wall is a metaphor for the narrator to escape from the patriarchy, which embodies the patterns that the patriarchal order ignores, suppresses, fears as grotesque or fails to perceive at all (Treichler). The color “yellow” seems to represent a variety of denigrating context for Gilman’s cultural time: it not only applies to ethnic groups such as Chinese and light-skinned African-Americans and connotes ideas of “inferiority, strangeness, cowardice, ugliness, and backwardness”, but also alludes to the color of disease and even the British-American fear of aliens (Lanser). Women in early feminist literature are portrayed as having secondary roles in their patriarchal and social systems, as seen in “The Yellow Wallpaper”, in which the main female character is denied “a voice, an identity, and even physical freedom” (Alfadel). The minor female characters, such as Jennie and Mary, have their accepted roles in the patriarchal system: Jennie, the house servant and the narrator’s attendant (her name possibly being a euphemism for a “Jenny-mule”, a beast of burden) and Mary (which rhymes with “marry” and whose character seems befitting of a proper would-be wife in that time period of society) who “is so good with the baby” (312).

It seems reasonable to believe that Gilman based “The Yellow Wallpaper” on her own experience with depression and the subsequent rest cure treatment by Dr. Silas Weir Mitchell, a prominent neurological physician of her time. She “became a commentator on the evolving social order” and was an early voice in the advancement of the women’s movement before the ideology of feminism was even an accepted or recognized concept (Beekman). Her father’s departure from the family in 1859, with limited contact and support, as well as her mother’s decision to withhold affection in order to harden her up, likely left a lasting emotional impression on Gilman and her approach to marriage and child-rearing. She inherited a strong sense of feminine pride in asserting her own viewpoint and maintaining independence from both parental sides, albeit with a softer more feminine heritage from her mother’s side. Following the birth of her child, she fell into a deep depression due to motherhood consuming her time and restricting her writing aspirations. Not long after, she realized that for her the traditional domestic role was at least in part the cause of her distress. She left her husband and took her baby to California to fulfill her aspirations of being a writer. She eventually surrendered the care of her daughter back to her husband and his new wife, who was also Gilman’s best friend. It was in this subsequent period that she became a socialist, activist and humanitarian, and wrote several published pieces of writing, including her most well-known story, “The Yellow Wallpaper”. Further evidence of her abdication of her socially accepted female role is her failed marriage and intimate relationships with females, notably Mary A. Luther and Adeline Knapp, known as “Dora” (Hill). This brings reference to her repeated use of the word “queer” throughout the story (310 and 317), which is synonymous with “strange” and “peculiar” and is even suggestive of homosexuality (Crewe).

Her decision to tear herself from the role of wife and mother is reflected at the end of “The Yellow Wallpaper” when she frees the woman (her alter-ego) who is hidden within the wallpaper, representing her liberation from the entrapment of patriarchal society. She remains tethered, however, by her “well-hidden rope”, which for her primary narrative character means that she still is to be dependent on her husband who has merely “fainted” and will undoubtedly be strongly responsive to his wife’s more extreme condition after he regains consciousness (320). Likewise, despite her defiance and freedom from the rest cure treatment and dependence on men, Gilman, herself, remains tethered and dependent on Dr. Silas Weir Mitchell, by her desire to have his acknowledgment and response to the story he most influenced. Ultimately, she is also bound to her troubled emotions when she succumbs to suicide due to diagnosis of cancer.

“The Yellow Wallpaper”, as an ecriture feminine work, is full with examples of patriarchy, both within the medical profession and the marital structure, and as an early benchmark of feminine voice in literature, whether used in a journal or with the use of an alternate ego, as exemplified in this story. It also serves as a “symbol of the paternalistic nature of 19th-century medicine and the suppression of female creativity” (Martin).

Works Cited

Alfadel, Maria R. “Women’s Image in Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s ‘The Yellow Wallpaper’ and Fadia Faqir’s ‘Pillars of Salt’: A Feminist Approach”. Middle East University for Graduate Studies. 2010. Web.

Beekman, Mary. “Charlotte Perkins Gilman (1860-1935): Her life and work as a social scientist and feminist." Women’s Intellectual Contributions to the Study of Mind and Society. Web.

Crew, Jonathan. “Queering The Yellow Wallpaper? Charlotte Perkins Gilman and the Politics of Form.” Tulsa Studies in Women’s Literature. 1995. Print.

Gilman, Charlotte Perkins. “The Yellow Wallpaper”. Literature: Reading to Write. Ed. Elizabeth Howells. New York: Pearson, 2010. 310-320.

Green, Shelley. “Women’s Encounters with the Mental Health Establishment: Escaping the Yellow Wallpaper.” Journal of Marital and Family Therapy. 2003. www.highbeam.com

Hill, Mary H. “Charlotte Perkins Gilman: The Making of a Radical Feminist.” The Journal of American History. December 1980.

Lanser, Susan. “Feminist Criticism, ‘The Yellow Wallpaper’, and the Politics of Color in America. Feminist Studies. Vol. 15, No. 3. Feminist Reinterpretations/Reinterpretations of Feminism. 1989. Published: Feminist Studies, Inc.

Martin, Diana. “The Rest Cure Revisited.” The American Journal of Psychiatry. Vol. 164, Issue 5, pp. 737-738. Published by: American Psychiatric Association, May 2007.

Treichler, Paula A. “Escaping the Sentence: Diagnosis and Discourse in ‘The YellowWallpaper’.” Tulsa Studies in Women’s Literature. Vol. 4, No. 2. 1985.