“The Yellow Wallpaper” uses situational irony to reinforce the author’s criticism of Victorian-era gender roles. It is evident that John cares deeply for his wife, Jane, but he also dismisses her needs. Jane recognizes this contradiction in a diary entry that summarizes John’s “cure”:
[John] is very careful and loving, and hardly lets me stir without special direction [...] he takes all care from me, and so I feel basely ungrateful not to value it more. He said we came here solely on my account, that I was to have perfect rest and all the air I could get.
John clearly loves his wife, and he acts with every intention of curing her postpartum depression. He’s a physician, and he believes that social isolation and inactivity (“perfect rest”) are what’s best for her. Yet Jane intuitively senses that this treatment isn’t what’s best for her, recognizing that she “feel[s] basely ungrateful” instead of embracing his cure. But because John is a powerful, knowledgeable man, he has the authority to deny Jane’s true needs and desires and to make decisions on her behalf.
The irony in this situation is that despite John’s certainty that he’s doing the right thing by confining Jane to her bedroom and isolating her from other people, this treatment plan actually worsens her condition, pushing her to have a full-on mental breakdown at the end of the story. In this sense, the situational irony highlights that this pattern of men making decisions on women’s behalf can be harmful to women, even if the intention is to protect them.
“The Yellow Wallpaper” relies on verbal irony to underpin Jane’s powerlessness and suffering. It also lets the reader enter her subconscious to determine what she means in comparison to what she says. Following a move into a secluded country estate, Jane takes a prolonged break from writing in her diary. When she finally gathers enough strength to write, her statements are contradictory:
John is away all day, and even some nights when his cases are serious. I am glad my case is not serious! But these nervous troubles are dreadfully depressing.
Jane says that her illness “is not serious,” but she then expresses concern over her depressive state. Additionally, she begins the entry by stating that she has not felt like writing, a somewhat alarming revelation given that writing is her only outlet for expressing herself candidly. There is an obvious inconsistency between what Jane asserts and what she feels, and this incongruity creates verbal irony.
Until this moment in the story, Jane has insisted that her condition is serious, but John has repeatedly rejected her concerns because he believes that she has a “temporary nervous depression.” Jane’s sudden downplaying does not match her previous statements, which signals that the reader should question her curious reversal. Jane’s condition is worsening, and she only downplays it to cope with the reality of her situation—her illness is cause for concern, and she knows it.
The verbal irony in this passage—that is, the contrast between what Jane writes and the reality of her condition—also allows the reader to empathize with Jane. Since Jane is mostly left alone, she has no one to console her. Therefore, her claim that her case isn’t serious is a consequence of her isolation. The reader is meant to sympathize with Jane’s character because she trivializes the seriousness of her condition as a way to cope with her anguish over John’s dismissal of her.
“The Yellow Wallpaper” uses dramatic irony to highlight Jane’s fragile mental state and helplessness. After a few weeks in isolation, Jane misses the comforts of her old home, and in her second diary entry she laments being forced to live in an unwelcoming environment:
The wall-paper, as I said before, is torn off in spots, and it sticketh closer than a brother—they must have had perseverance as well as hatred. Then the floor is scratched and gouged and splintered, the plaster itself is dug out here and there, and this great heavy bed which is all we found in the room, looks as if it had been through the wars.
Jane maintains that the room in which she’s recovering from postpartum depression used to be a nursery. Her diary entries, however, reveal that it likely housed a mentally ill person in the past. Jane’s description of the room creates dramatic irony by allowing the reader to pick up on things she misses. The “scratched and gouged and splintered” floor and “dug out” plaster seem to indicate that whoever stayed here before Jane was kept here against their will. Children, or even several children, probably couldn’t have caused the level of damage she reports. The reader can thus infer that the room previously housed another mentally ill person who tried to claw their way out of the room. This implication adds a sinister air to the story and hints that Jane is being treated more like a prisoner than a patient, even if she doesn’t verbalize this idea.
Jane and her husband, John’s, relationship also creates dramatic irony. Jane holds her husband in high esteem and often praises him, as in this example in the fifth entry:
It is so hard to talk to John about my case, because he is so wise, and because he loves me so.
Though John does seem to love his wife, Jane’s claim that he’s “so wise” is ironic because the reader can clearly see that John’s treatment plan for Jane—confining her to a room and denying her social interaction and intellectual pursuits—is worsening rather than healing her depression. Because John is a physician, both he and Jane believe that he must know best, even when his prescribed treatment is doing more harm than good. In this sense, the reader has a clearer understanding of Jane’s mental state than either John or Jane herself do.
Finally, when Jane begins to spiral into a mental breakdown, her seventh diary entry offers yet another instance of dramatic irony:
Life is very much more exciting now than it used to be. You see I have something more to expect, to look forward to, to watch. I really do eat better, and am more quiet than I was. John is so pleased to see me improve!
Again, John seems to think his treatment is working, but the reader knows that he is mistaken because Jane has, in fact, lost her grip on reality. Jane’s diary gives the reader access to her inner thoughts, which she does not share with anyone else—but Jane also doesn’t seem to recognize the signs of delusion in her own words. Prior to this passage, Jane revealed in her diary that she’s begun to see a mysterious figure—a woman—moving behind the wallpaper in her room. The reader is meant to interpret this as a hallucination, a sign that Jane isn’t, in fact, improving, even if John and she herself believe that she is. Together, these instances of dramatic irony emphasize how the characters fail to understand the true severity of Jane’s mental illness.
“The Yellow Wallpaper” uses dramatic irony to highlight Jane’s fragile mental state and helplessness. After a few weeks in isolation, Jane misses the comforts of her old home, and in her second diary entry she laments being forced to live in an unwelcoming environment:
The wall-paper, as I said before, is torn off in spots, and it sticketh closer than a brother—they must have had perseverance as well as hatred. Then the floor is scratched and gouged and splintered, the plaster itself is dug out here and there, and this great heavy bed which is all we found in the room, looks as if it had been through the wars.
Jane maintains that the room in which she’s recovering from postpartum depression used to be a nursery. Her diary entries, however, reveal that it likely housed a mentally ill person in the past. Jane’s description of the room creates dramatic irony by allowing the reader to pick up on things she misses. The “scratched and gouged and splintered” floor and “dug out” plaster seem to indicate that whoever stayed here before Jane was kept here against their will. Children, or even several children, probably couldn’t have caused the level of damage she reports. The reader can thus infer that the room previously housed another mentally ill person who tried to claw their way out of the room. This implication adds a sinister air to the story and hints that Jane is being treated more like a prisoner than a patient, even if she doesn’t verbalize this idea.
Jane and her husband, John’s, relationship also creates dramatic irony. Jane holds her husband in high esteem and often praises him, as in this example in the fifth entry:
It is so hard to talk to John about my case, because he is so wise, and because he loves me so.
Though John does seem to love his wife, Jane’s claim that he’s “so wise” is ironic because the reader can clearly see that John’s treatment plan for Jane—confining her to a room and denying her social interaction and intellectual pursuits—is worsening rather than healing her depression. Because John is a physician, both he and Jane believe that he must know best, even when his prescribed treatment is doing more harm than good. In this sense, the reader has a clearer understanding of Jane’s mental state than either John or Jane herself do.
Finally, when Jane begins to spiral into a mental breakdown, her seventh diary entry offers yet another instance of dramatic irony:
Life is very much more exciting now than it used to be. You see I have something more to expect, to look forward to, to watch. I really do eat better, and am more quiet than I was. John is so pleased to see me improve!
Again, John seems to think his treatment is working, but the reader knows that he is mistaken because Jane has, in fact, lost her grip on reality. Jane’s diary gives the reader access to her inner thoughts, which she does not share with anyone else—but Jane also doesn’t seem to recognize the signs of delusion in her own words. Prior to this passage, Jane revealed in her diary that she’s begun to see a mysterious figure—a woman—moving behind the wallpaper in her room. The reader is meant to interpret this as a hallucination, a sign that Jane isn’t, in fact, improving, even if John and she herself believe that she is. Together, these instances of dramatic irony emphasize how the characters fail to understand the true severity of Jane’s mental illness.
“The Yellow Wallpaper” uses dramatic irony to highlight Jane’s fragile mental state and helplessness. After a few weeks in isolation, Jane misses the comforts of her old home, and in her second diary entry she laments being forced to live in an unwelcoming environment:
The wall-paper, as I said before, is torn off in spots, and it sticketh closer than a brother—they must have had perseverance as well as hatred. Then the floor is scratched and gouged and splintered, the plaster itself is dug out here and there, and this great heavy bed which is all we found in the room, looks as if it had been through the wars.
Jane maintains that the room in which she’s recovering from postpartum depression used to be a nursery. Her diary entries, however, reveal that it likely housed a mentally ill person in the past. Jane’s description of the room creates dramatic irony by allowing the reader to pick up on things she misses. The “scratched and gouged and splintered” floor and “dug out” plaster seem to indicate that whoever stayed here before Jane was kept here against their will. Children, or even several children, probably couldn’t have caused the level of damage she reports. The reader can thus infer that the room previously housed another mentally ill person who tried to claw their way out of the room. This implication adds a sinister air to the story and hints that Jane is being treated more like a prisoner than a patient, even if she doesn’t verbalize this idea.
Jane and her husband, John’s, relationship also creates dramatic irony. Jane holds her husband in high esteem and often praises him, as in this example in the fifth entry:
It is so hard to talk to John about my case, because he is so wise, and because he loves me so.
Though John does seem to love his wife, Jane’s claim that he’s “so wise” is ironic because the reader can clearly see that John’s treatment plan for Jane—confining her to a room and denying her social interaction and intellectual pursuits—is worsening rather than healing her depression. Because John is a physician, both he and Jane believe that he must know best, even when his prescribed treatment is doing more harm than good. In this sense, the reader has a clearer understanding of Jane’s mental state than either John or Jane herself do.
Finally, when Jane begins to spiral into a mental breakdown, her seventh diary entry offers yet another instance of dramatic irony:
Life is very much more exciting now than it used to be. You see I have something more to expect, to look forward to, to watch. I really do eat better, and am more quiet than I was. John is so pleased to see me improve!
Again, John seems to think his treatment is working, but the reader knows that he is mistaken because Jane has, in fact, lost her grip on reality. Jane’s diary gives the reader access to her inner thoughts, which she does not share with anyone else—but Jane also doesn’t seem to recognize the signs of delusion in her own words. Prior to this passage, Jane revealed in her diary that she’s begun to see a mysterious figure—a woman—moving behind the wallpaper in her room. The reader is meant to interpret this as a hallucination, a sign that Jane isn’t, in fact, improving, even if John and she herself believe that she is. Together, these instances of dramatic irony emphasize how the characters fail to understand the true severity of Jane’s mental illness.
