Cajun Wallpaper

“The Yellow Wallpaper” by Charlotte Perkins Gilman stuck in my gut as a young boy and never left. It was the first story to shake me up, to move me in a lasting way. Gilman’s story pulled the glaze from my eyes and revealed elements of society and existence that I hadn’t yet appreciated - crushing inequalities regarding gender, the fragility of mental health, futility, outrage, and of course beauty. It felt like I was being let into the protagonist’s secret world - I could feel her suffering and madness. But while these revelations were not the norm in my life at the time, (emphasis: at the time), I strongly identified with the character. So there I was, a boy in south Louisiana in the 1990s identifying with an oppressed and mentally ill woman from the late 19th century. And when the issues in the story appeared in my own life in one form or another, the story was there. That’s when writing goes beyond.

Through the example above, and through many other stories - both brutal and beautiful - reading has given me insight into the worlds of others at times when I wouldn’t have otherwise had access. Bullfighting in Pamplona, playing the execution lottery, the Salinas Valley, an act of chivalry at the A & P - reading brought these places and the experiences of the characters therein to life. And those experiences never leave me. In the best of contexts, the identification with character, like in The Yellow Wallpaper, drives compassion and reminds us that we are the same at the core. Human. When emotional identification rings true within a story and changes the way you see fellow humans and also sticks with you, the writing has done something special. Today, as ever, we need to identify with each other. Story can help us get there.