N - Narrator of the Yellow Wallpaper
E - Elisa of The Chrysanthemum
R - Robert the Blind Man of Cathedral
N: Hello Madam! Are those flower buds raised by you?
E: Oh, yes. They are chrysanthemums.
N: Chrysanthemum! It’s a beautiful thing, like flickering colored smoke. Could I stay for a while and write about them? E: Someone said that also…Are you sure you want to write about them? I haven’t taken any good care of them for some time already. N: Why not. Though they’re not blossoming, I still like them. They’re strong and energetic under the feminine appearance – their spirits always inspire me. Look, they can grow good standing on their own, that’s their power. E: Grow good? They’re not going to be ten inches across like I had before. N: What does the size do with the flowers? Flowers should be appreciated for its beauty and spirit, not for the size. E: But men never said so.
N: Of course they don’t say so. They are practical enough to scoff at any talk of things not to be felt and seen and put down in figures. By the way, why do you stop raising the chrysanthemums? E: I can’t find energy for raising them anymore––
R: Excuse me, ladies. Could you show me the way to the Los Angeles highway? E: It’s on that side.
R: I’m sorry, lady. Could you tell me which side is it?
E: Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t know you’re–– It’s on your left side. R: It’s okay, thank you. There is a good bitter smell, is that chrysanthemums? N: Yes, you’re right! How come you know without seeing?
R: I can remember this smell. I’ve learnt it before. I’m always learning something. N: Won’t you feel that it’s a pity for unable to see?
R: I’ve never thought of that honestly....