CLASSIC: "The Picture of Dorian Gray" by Oscar Wilde
STORYTELLING: 3/5
WRITING STYLE: 5/5
THEMES/MESSAGE: 3/5
CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT: 2/5
IMPACT/ENGAGEMENT: 2/5
Total Grade: D (60%)
Oscar Wilde’s voice is one that never fails to enchant me. His humor, his wit, always popping up at the most satisfying moments. He’s a sort of King of Kairos in that way. His talent for description, too, adds to not only his voice but toward the world he is building for the reader--vivid, rosy, dreamy, and alive. It became clearer and clearer to me, as I worked through the book, that Wilde was really in love with the beauty of life which is evident in the care he took to describe the setting, characters, and plot.
That being said, The Picture of Dorian Gray, while a testament to Wilde’s stylistic brilliance, fell short of the greatness by which it has long been advertised, leaving me with a strong yearning for the unseized possibilities of what this book could’ve been. The concept of a portrait changing in accordance with both moral and spiritual shifts of the subject’s soul and age is intriguing to say the least, for, as it is referenced in Chapter 12, the ability to witness such a thing is a privilege believed to belong to God alone (150-152). But it’s only in Chapter 7 that this concept is fully exercised and acknowledged, with the exquisitely painted portrait suddenly taking on a “touch of cruelty in the mouth,” (90). For me, the leading concept entered the plot far later than I would’ve preferred, and for what? Up to that point, we, as the reader, are overwhelmed with scenes riddled with both blatant and latent homosexual interactions, and beaten over the head with snide, sarcastic statements as delivered by a character I couldn’t hate more–Lord Henry Wotton. At first, his personality reminded me of another of Wilde’s characters: Algernon from The Importance of Being Earnest. Contrary, sarcastic, and paradoxical, (later dubbed “Prince Paradox” by Dorian himself), Lord Henry, recognized chiefly by his outrageous and forthcoming opinions, was originally considered, by myself, as nothing more than a vessel for pompous satire (191). Yet, throughout the story, his presence grows increasingly poisonous, not only in concern to Dorian’s conscience, but also to the book’s overall likeability.
A few lighthearted and amusing quotes from Lord Henry include:
“It is silly of you, for there is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about,” (6).
“...and as for believing things, I can believe anything, provided that it is quite incredible,” (9).
“I choose my friends for their good looks, my acquaintances for their good characters, and my enemies for their good intellects,” (12).
“I like persons better than principles, and I like persons with no principles better than anything else in the world,” (13).
“Those who are faithful know only the trivial side of love: it is the faithless that know love’s tragedies,” (16).
All of these quotes are sure to cause a chuckle, even if it’s only because it snuck up on you. Lord Henry’s self-assured nature makes every one of his statements feel a little outrageous in the best ways. But there comes a point when the sexism takes over, and all we are left with are snide, misogynistic comments that slowly made me hate the book:
“I’m afraid that women appreciate cruelty, downright cruelty, more than anything else. They have wonderfully primitive instincts. We have emancipated them, but they remain slaves looking for their masters, all the same. They love being dominated,” (102).
“...the only way a woman can ever reform a man is by boring him so completely that he loses all possible interest in life,” (99).
“Being adored is a nuisance. Women treat us just as humanity treats its gods. They worship us, and are always bothering us to do something for them,” (79).
I will not include all the sexist comments made throughout the book for the same reason I disliked reading about them: they offend, kill the mood, ruin the vibes, and take away from the main point. I imagine there is a direct connection between the homosexual tension between the male characters and their overarching disdain for women. In particular, Sybil Vane, a girl that Dorian “falls in love with” ends up dead, suicide being the leading side effect to a broken heart. In the context of endless sexist remarks, her death seems indecent and cruel, made all the more disgusting for the fact that no one but her family seemed to care about a dead girl and the damage that had been done to her. In fact, upon learning about Sybil’s death, the characters surrounding Dorian are more concerned with his reputation and possible public knowledge that would tie him to Sybil rather than the very essence of such a tragedy. Her death ends up leading us down a subtle plot point that is never entirely quenched, either.
Dorian Gray, to me, is not nearly as morally gray as has been purported. In the beginning, he was all beauty, in a superficial sense. And if he had a conscience, it was immediately polluted by Lord Henry and his opinions about beauty, ( “...youth is the one thing worth having,” (24), “...Beauty is the wonder of wonders,” (24), “And Beauty is a form of Genius–is higher, indeed than Genius, as it needs no explanation,” (24), “Youth! Youth! There is absolutely nothing in the world but youth,” (24)). In fact, Dorian hardly has a conscience for the greater part of the novel, and whenever he does seem to make a decision, it is cold, psychotic, selfish, hedonistic, and shallow. There is little I found redeemable in him other than his rare moments of regret, and yet even those moments were always acknowledged in light of retaining some degree of blamelessness. Still, the ending was earned and suited the tone of the rest of the piece, allowing the reader some relief from the endless debauchery and derogatory opinions made at the expense of women.
At the end of the day, while everything Wilde writes is beautifully written, this novel contains characters I did not enjoy spending time with, and the supposed leading concept (a changing painting and immortal soul) acted as an afterthought in the novel when I wish it would’ve been more of the focus. He retained his youth for 38 years, without a single wrinkle or gray hair. Even Tom Cruise could do that.
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