Complete and unabridged, with 100 full-page plates by Jean-Baptiste Camille Corot, Gustave Courbet and George Inness. A woman is shut in an upstairs room for her nerves — no work, no writing, no company — and left alone with the wallpaper. Gilman had been prescribed that same rest cure, and she wrote the story to show a doctor what it does to a mind. Paired with it here is Herland, the novel she wrote twenty-three years later: three American men stumble into a country where no man has set foot for two thousand years, and discover a civilization that has quietly solved the problems theirs cannot name. One book is a room with the door shut; the other is the world that woman might have built. Together they are Gilman entire. A hundred plates of American landscape by Homer, Inness and their contemporaries, from Montclair gardens to alpine peaks, run alongside the two fictions and hold their quiet against the rooms confinement builds.