Comparing Pygmalion And The Yellow Wallpaper

One element of brilliant storytelling may be the ability to leave the reader with an impression without forcing an interpretation. Diversity of interpretation is certainly true of Orpheus’ account of the Pygmalion myth in Book 10 of Ovid’s Metamorphoses. Some readers interpret the myth as a charming, happy, funny love story; others see it as a disturbing horror tale. Pygmalion’s cultural legacy is a testament to this versatility; it has parallels in the musical comedy film My Fair Lady as well as horror satires like Hoffman’s “Der Sandmann” and Gilman’s “The Yellow Wallpaper”. Comparing Pygmalion with “The Yellow Wallpaper” reveals that both narratives operate under similar themes, such as the power of art, the importance of recognizing the

The reader learns that “Pygmalion offer[s] / His sacrifice, and standing at the altar / Timidly prayed” to Venus, with the adverb “timidly” implying fearful respect (Met. 300-302). One observes a similar respect – and fear – for the immaterial and spiritual in the Narrator; she mocks her rational, secularist husband who “has no patience with faith, an intense horror of superstition, and he scoffs openly at any talk of things not be felt and seen and put down in figures” (Gilman, 202). The implication, however, is that the Narrator does respect “faith…superstition” and does not “scoff openly” at unmeasurable things (202). When she and her husband are discussing her health one night, she agrees that she is “‘better in body perhaps’” but implies – before her husband interrupts her – that her soul is deeply unhealthy (202). Like Pygmalion, the Narrator’s recognition of the supernatural contributes to the realization of her vision. Venus hears Pygmalion’s prayer and grants his wish that his statue become a woman (Met. 307-321). While it is unclear if the supernatural is actually at work in The Yellow Wallpaper, the Narrator’s belief in it, that “there is something queer about” the house (and Gilman implies that she is not the first person to lose her mind there), at a minimum contributes to the realization of her own fantasy (Gilman,

Pygmalion is an unashamedly sexist text. Galatea’s entire existence and selfhood depends on a man. The myth suggests women are incomplete – and cannot even exist altogether – unless men create them. Galatea gains selfhood and identity – she “felt the kisses” and “blushed” with “shy eyes” (Met. 325-326) – and is indeed free from the constraints of the ivory, but at the expense of any independence from her creator. Conversely, the Narrator severs her dependence on her husband and rises above him – quite literally (Gilman 214). This comes, however, at the expense of her sanity and selfhood: she states “‘I’ve got out at last…in spite of you and Jane. And I’ve pulled off most of the paper, so you can’t put me back!’” (214). If Jane is indeed the Narrator’s name – and this is hotly debated – it means the Narrator has disavowed her own personhood for the sake of trumping John. Furthermore, the last words of the story – “I had to creep over him every time!” (214) – suggest that while the Narrator is freed from her husband, she is not truly freed from the room but circles it repeatedly. While Galatea’s metamorphosis reinforces Ancient Greek gender paradigms (women are incomplete without men) the