anted . . . But John would not hear of it." (Gilman 193). She can't have visitors: "It is so discouraging not to have any advice and companionship about my work. . . but he says he would as soon put fireworks in my pillow-case as to let me have those stimulating people about now." (Gilman 196).Probably in large part because of her oppression, she continues to decline. "I don't feel as if it was worthwhile to turn my hand over for anything. . ." (Gilman 197). It seems that her husband is oblivious to her declining conditon, since he never admits she has a real problem until the end of the story -- at which time he fainted.John could have obtained council from someone less personally involved in her case, but the only help he seeks was for the house and baby. He obtains a nanny to watch over the children while he was away at work each day: "It is fortunate Mary is so good with the baby." (Gilman 195). And he had his sister Jennie take care of the house. "She is a perfect and enthusiastic housekeeper." (Gilman 196).He does talk of taking her to an expert: "John says if I don't pick up faster he shall send me to Weir Mitchell in the fall." But she took that as a threat since he was even more domineering than her husband and brother. Not only does he fail to get her help, but by keeping her virtually a prisoner in a room with nauseating wallpaper and very little to occupy her mind, let alone offer any kind of mental stimulation, he almost forces her to dwell on her problem. Prison is supposed to be depressing, and she is pretty close to being a prisoner. Perhaps if she had been allowed to come and go and do as she pleased her depression might have lifted: "I think sometimes that if I were only well enough to write a little it would relieve the press of ideas and rest me." (Gilman 195). It seems that just being able to tell someone how she really felt would have eased her depression, but John won't hear of it. The lack of an outlet caused the...
