Susan and Matthew’s house in Richmond is initially a testament to the strength of their marriage: they buy a house close enough to Matthew’s work that he is able to come home daily—therefore avoiding, the couple thinks, the marital pitfalls that often befall husbands who rent apartments in the city. Susan commits herself to being a housewife and mother, and the couple raises four intelligent, well-behaved children. However, as the years go on, Susan begins to resent the house—she feels trapped by it, since she does not have any reason to go anywhere else, nor any reason to be anything besides a wife and mother. She is made restless by the thought that there is nowhere in this house where she can be truly alone, and consequently, nowhere in the house where she can be truly herself. Matthew’s attempts to make the spare room into a refuge fail: as a place still inside the house, Susan is still bound by her obligations. It isn’t until Susan flees to Room 19 that she discovers true solace. As she spends more and more time there, she spends less time with her family, to the point that going back to the house feels like being a guest at her own dinner table. Susan’s Richmond house thus comes to symbolize the trappings and limitations of her own domestic life
The Richmond House Quotes in To Room Nineteen
To Room Nineteen Quotes
It was a long time later that Susan understood that that night, when she had wept and Matthew had driven the misery out of her with his big solid body, was the last time, ever in their married life, that they had been—to use their mutual language—with each other. And even that was a lie, because she had not told him of her real fears at all.
She was breaking her part of the bargain and there was no way of forcing her to keep it: that her spirit, her soul, should live in this house, so that the people in it could grow like plants in water, and Mrs. Parkes remain content in their service. In return for this, he would be a good loving husband, and responsible towards the children. Well, nothing like this had been true of either of them for a long time. He did his duty, perfunctorily: she did not even pretend to do hers.
The devils that had haunted the house, the garden, were not there; but she knew it was because her soul was in Room 19 in Fred's Hotel; she was not really here at all. It was a sensation that should have been frightening: to sit at her own bedroom window, listening to Sophie's rich young voice sing German nursery songs to her child, listening to Mrs. Parkes chatter and move below, and to know that all this had nothing to do with her: she was already out of it.



