The Picture of Dorian Gray

A lush, cautionary tale of a life of vileness and deception or a loving portrait of the aesthetic impulse run rampant? Why not both? After Basil Hallward paints a beautiful, young man's portrait, his subject's frivolous wish that the picture change and he remain the same comes true. Dorian Gray's picture grows aged and corrupt while he continues to appear fresh and innocent. After he kills a young woman, "as surely as if I had cut her little throat with a knife", Dorian Gray is surprised to find no difference in his vision or surroundings. "The roses are not less lovely for all that. The birds sing just as happily in my garden."

As Hallward tries to make sense of his creation, his epigram-happy friend Lord Henry Wotton encourages Dorian in his sensual quest with any number of Wildean paradoxes, including the delightful "When we are happy we are always good, but when we are good we are not always happy." But despite its many languorous pleasures, The Picture of Dorian Gray is an imperfect work. Compared to the two (voyeuristic) older men, Dorian is a bore, and his search for ever new sensations far less fun than the novel's drawing-room discussions. Even more oddly, the moral message of the novel contradicts many of Wilde's supposed aims, not least "no artist has ethical sympathies. An ethical sympathy in an artist is an unpardonable mannerism of style." Nonetheless, the glamour boy gets his just deserts. And Wilde, defending Dorian Gray, had it both ways: "All excess, as well as all renunciation, brings its own punishment."

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Good - Rated
Very challenging to begin with, although I can't explain whether this was primarily due to Oscar Wilde's writing style or getting to grip with the gentry from Victorian times. The novel seems to span a period of about 20 years although there were some serious jumps in time as nothing seemed to take that long. It wasn't until Dorian met a character later in the novel and mentioned an incident from 18 years earlier that I realised the time frame.

A clever novel whereby we need to think about what we wish for as the grass is not always greener on the other side and we never think about the consequences of our desires. Dorian in facts dreams of what most people wish for - to remain young. He offers his soul to a beautiful portrait of himself in return for perpetual youth. This is fine to begin with and whilst his beauty does remain, the portrait takes on the images of wildness and slow dilapidation of his soul. He is involved in crime and death in pursuit of his passion, resulting in his eventual surrender.

A clever novel focusing on every narcissistic thoughts of the human race have. A good reflection on the `dandy' of the Victorian era and a lovely portrayal in general of life in London at this time. The blurb states that this novel caused outrage when first published, which I was aware of and can understand why. However, it also states that this novel marked the onset of his own fatal reputation (as a homosexual I would presume) and his eventual downfall - which I don't understand why. From a difficult beginning this book had me hooked from a quarter of the way in. I look forward to seeing this interpreted on stage when I see it in September.

A good read - Rated
Wilde's only novel is full of wonderful witty one liners and is very thought provoking!!! An interesting read!

Were it not for Henry Wotton this would have been a complete waste of time - Rated
For some reason I found myself reading this novel in the style of Stephen Fry, which seemed wholly appropriate in my mind.
Despite this I failed to find any real interest in the story or characters. In my opinion the novel's fame has more to do with its notoriety than actual content. The only character I truly took an interest in was Lord Henry Wotton - though I believe this may have something to do with me imagining him as the literary incarnation of the aforementioned Fry.
The portrait on the cover of this edition also bares an uncanny resemblance to my cousin.

A Tale of Three Characters - Rated
I read this book a long time ago and have recently re-read it for a book group. My opinion of it has changed dramatically now that I am older.

I find Lord Henry Wooton one of the most wicked, selfish, egotistical and self-absorbed characters in English literature. Hypothetically if ever I dined with him I would probably stab him in the hand with the dessert fork. The one slightly redeeming section for him is at the end of the book where he appears a bit naive in response to the intensity of Dorian's despair.

I do think that Dorian is inherantly wicked due to his vanity. However, Basil Hallward has no small part to play in his downfall as he encouraged this by his obsession with his handsome looks.

I love one of the comments in my version of the book. It said that Oscar Wilde was quoted as saying that the world thought that he was Lord Henry Wooton, he, however, saw himself has Basil Hallward, but would like to have been Dorian Gray in other circumstances.

Wine wit and wisdom - Rated
`So, Henry, how is that young Protégée of yours progressing, hem?
Lord Henry paused to saviour his glass. Pleased, he set it down, just so, beside his dinner plate, and turned to Lord Fermor.
`Pundits say troubles come in threes, Uncle,' replied Lord Henry. `What the pundits omit in their gabardine rush to spread their misery to others in a foolish attempt to alleviate their own, is that the best in life never travels solo. Take, for example, the wine and dinner before us. Both French. Together they constitute a meal to entice the gods down from the Mount. When did you ever come across a bad French meal, or a good French man? Yet when wine and food march together, they repay the Creator.'
`No doubt,' replied Lord Fermor, `but you evade the issue. I asked about the young chap you have taken into your entourage, you know.' Lord Fermor struggled to recall the name, `that chap who poses for Mr Hallward here.'
Basil Hallward felt the heat of recognition first on his brow, then running through his whole body. A retiring man, more at home with his easels and sitters than at high table, he shrank from the public glare.
Recognising the signs, though failing to sympathise with them, Lady Agatha piped up.
`Mr Hallword has many sitters, do you not, Sir.'
`Er, yes, indeed I do,' replied Mr Hallward, grateful for the prompt. `For example, just today I encountered a young man of exquisite appearance, youth in all its pomp. He has promised to sit for me. Lord Henry, I fancy, will try to take him away and teach him of the world, thereby spoiling him as a object d'art.' He laughed to denote humour, simultaneously glancing at his friend to convey the serious meaning behind his joke. Keep away Lord Henry, the glanced announced, shielded behind the laughter. Keep away from this young man lest you send him on the eternal search for fulfilment and in so doing corrupt his soul.
Lord Henry roared.
"Why Basil, you surpass yourself! Hiding a serious message behind a joke so that you may deliver it in public. Would that the Good Book decked itself in such garlands, the better to frighten the masses. You are a greater artist than your canvasses know.'
`I fear my husband is avoiding your question, Lord Fermor,' laughed Lady Victoria. `When it comes to hiding a serious message behind the veil of farce, he may rival Dante himself.'
`What is the name of your young beauty?' Inquired Lord Henry amidst the general humour. `I only ask,' he pressed, `so that I may avoid him. Let us hope I have more success than Eve, who expressed no desire to harvest the only tree in the garden that contained a serpent, until admonished not to. Of course,' Lord Henry continued, `our Creator did not warn off the firstborn with laughter on his lips. Had he done so, perhaps we would be consuming ambrosia still. Mind you,' he reflected, `this French cuisine is an adequate substitute.'
`Yes yes yes Henry,' broke in Lord Fermor, `but what about your young Protégée? Has he a fine future, seeking the dark mysteries of life of which you profess to be so fond?'
`Should he avoid hubris, I see for him a long, comfortable and satisfactory life.'
`And should he fail to avoid hubris?' teased Lady Agatha.
`Then I see for him immortality in print and prose. Hubris is man's affirmation of his living soul, his insistence that all must be as he ordains, and his rage that it is not. Should Basil paint hubris he would reveal Caliban.
`Modesty, on the other hand, is pleasing to the casual senses but fleeting, like snow on the chimneystack. Modesty and prose combine to produce the barely adequate. Hubris and prose combine to produce immortality, but not personal happiness.'
`And this choice, modesty of hubris, is one you see before Dorian Gray?' queried Mr Hallword.
`Dorian who?' Lord Henry responded. He reached again for the reassuring certainty in his wine glass. `I was referring to my Protégée, Oscar Wilde.'