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- Шарлотта Гилман
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Yellow wallpaper
It
is
very
seldom
that
mere
ordinary
people
like
John
and
myself
secure
ancestral
halls
for
the
summer
.
A
colonial
mansion
,
a
hereditary
estate
,
I
would
say
a
haunted
house
,
and
reach
the
height
of
romantic
felicity
--
but
that
would
be
asking
too
much
of
fate
!
Still
I
will
proudly
declare
that
there
is
something
queer
about
it
.
Else
,
why
should
it
be
let
so
cheaply
?
And
why
have
stood
so
long
untenanted
?
John
laughs
at
me
,
of
course
,
but
one
expects
that
in
marriage
.
John
is
practical
in
the
extreme
.
He
has
no
patience
with
faith
,
an
intense
horror
of
superstition
,
and
he
scoffs
openly
at
any
talk
of
things
not
to
be
felt
and
seen
and
put
down
in
figures
.
John
is
a
physician
,
and
PERHAPS
--
(
I
would
not
say
it
to
a
living
soul
,
of
course
,
but
this
is
dead
paper
and
a
great
relief
to
my
mind
)
--
PERHAPS
that
is
one
reason
I
do
not
get
well
faster
.
You
see
he
does
not
believe
I
am
sick
!
And
what
can
one
do
?
If
a
physician
of
high
standing
,
and
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
?
