In the story “The Yellow Wall-Paper”, I felt that the narrator was unreliable, especially when it came to her husband. In the beginning of the story, the narrator states “John is practical in the extreme. He has no patience with faith, an intense horror of superstition, and scoffs openly at any talk of things not to be felt and seen and put down in figures.” However, her husband John actually does follow these traits, there were times that he did the opposite. For example, when the narrator is not making any progress by showing sign that she is getting better, John threatens her by saying he would send her Weir Mitchell. Later on in the story, John has a different perspective. The narrator states John actually having faith by giving her hope. “John says I musn’t lose my strength, and has me take cod liver oil and lots of tonics…” These types of actions play through back and forth throughout the story. One minute John is angry and upset, then secondly he shows a different character. The narrator says she becomes a burden to him, instead of doing what the typical wife roles such as helping him and taking care of their baby. However, in this case he is taking care of her as if she was the child and helping her through her depression. “And dear John gathered me up in his arms, and just carried me upstairs and laid me on the bed, and sat by me and read to me till it tired my head. He said I was his darling and his comfort and all he had, and that I must take care of myself for his sake, and keep well.” In this quote, John shows another side of him by being caring and attentive towards his wife.

Dystopia is an imagined placed where things are unhappy, unpleasant or case in bad setting.  The narrator in “The Yellow Wall-Paper” was very interested with wallpaper in the room than any other disturbing things that surrounded her. Towards the mid-end of the story she realized a particular pattern with this mysterious yellow wallpaper. She put all her attention towards this yellow wallpaper to figure out the pattern before anyone else does. She became motivated every day and night of coming closer to figure out this image. When she finally did, it was an image of a creeping women, “It is the same woman, I know, for she is always creeping, and most women do not creep by daylight. I see her on that long road under the trees, creeping along, and when a carriage comes she hides under the blackberry vines. I don’t blame her a bit. It must be very humiliating to be caught creeping by daylight! Then she realized the creeping women was her all along inside those yellow wall paper of the person who she come to be.

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