If I Cannot Trust My Narrator, Who Can I Trust?

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If I Cannot Trust My Narrator, Who Can I Trust?

The narrator of The Yellow Wall Paper appears as any storyteller you may meet in the beginning of any story. She comes on as someone with whom you have decided to share your most comfortable reading chair and your brightest lamp, for however long she feels like spinning her yarn. But soon enough, we find ourselves re-reading passages just uttered by our narrator and begin to wonder if perhaps we’re not paying her the right amount of attention, and perhaps this confusion is the fault of the humble reader. Is our faithful narrator going insane right before our very eyes? It does not take very long for us to realize that she is undergoing metamorphic changes as she spins her tale of seclusion and distance brought on by her own husband, for reasons or motives we cannot decipher during a cursory reading; until we assemble all of the evidence we are afforded.

Normally, we welcome quirky narrators to share our autumn evenings; but this poor soul is on a slippery slope to life in an institution. An early nod to this is found here, “…and I d...

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