Charlotte Perkins Gilman

The Yellow Wall-paper (YW)
I am of the opinion that Gilman and James should have met and married as they share a certain special writing penache. In fact, YW could be called The Beast In The Wall-paper, for it's the same type of story, save for the lack of a moral, and only slightly more interesting as a chronical of one woman's descent into madness.
Gilman herself is intriguing. I felt sorry for her upbringing, and it looks as though mental illness was either learned or inhereted from her mother. I had to laugh though at mention of Gilman's stint as a designer of greeting cards. Seemingly, I should have reversed the sexes!
I was fascinated by her argument that "the maternal aspects of [women's] personalities had been developed excessively and to the detriment of their other productive capacities." In addition to this nugget was an assortment of other cockamamy philosophies. In spite of her perspective, I dig feminism well enough and know that our foremothers were advocating sane developments for women, so I did a little checking on Herland and apparently Gilman was in step with these gals.
(Aside: Anyone else notice that in much of the recent class-related literature there is mention of "delirium tremens"? Was that the mad cow disease/bird flu of the era or what?)
Eventually Gilman developed breast cancer and off'd herself. I was as surprised as I was to hear of Sylvia Plath's suicide. Certainly there were mental issues. I don't say this to belittle the pain and depression of debilitating illness. I went through a period of disease where I didn't eat or drink for over two months and required tube feedings to survive. I admit I prayed some nights to die. But I reject the hopelessness that is actually committing suicide. I believe more in palliative care than in auto-offing.
Even so, are there any women who have not felt like Charlotte sometimes? Whatever our arguments, my heart is tender for her.
Charlotte was cremated and not interred, so you can not visit her grave even sometimes.
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