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The Picture of Dorian Gray Study Guide
The Picture of Dorian Gray Study Guide
In the stately London home of his aunt, Lady Brandon, the well-known artist Basil
Hallward meets Dorian Gray. Dorian is a cultured, wealthy, and impossibly beautiful young man
who immediately captures Basil’s artistic imagination. Dorian sits for several portraits, and Basil
often depicts him as an ancient Greek hero or a mythological figure. When the novel opens, the
artist is completing his first portrait of Dorian as he truly is, but, as he admits to his friend Lord
Henry Wotton, the painting disappoints him because it reveals too much of his feeling for his
subject. Lord Henry, a famous wit who enjoys scandalizing his friends by celebrating youth,
beauty, and the selfish pursuit of pleasure, disagrees, claiming that the portrait is Basil’s
masterpiece. Dorian arrives at the studio, and Basil reluctantly introduces him to Lord Henry,
who he fears will have a damaging influence on the impressionable, young Dorian.
Basil’s fears are well founded; before the end of their first conversation, Lord Henry
upsets Dorian with a speech about the transient nature of beauty and youth. Worried that these,
his most impressive characteristics, are fading day by day, Dorian curses his portrait, which he
believes will one day remind him of the beauty he will have lost. In a fit of distress, he pledges
his soul if only the painting could bear the burden of age and infamy, allowing him to stay
forever young. After Dorian’s outbursts, Lord Henry reaffirms his desire to own the portrait;
however, Basil insists the portrait belongs to Dorian.
Over the next few weeks, Lord Henry’s influence over Dorian grows stronger. The youth
becomes a disciple of the “new Hedonism” and proposes to live a life dedicated to the pursuit of
pleasure. He falls in love with Sibyl Vane, a young actress who performs in a theater in
London’s slums. He adores her acting; she, in turn, refers to him as “Prince Charming” and
refuses to heed the warnings of her brother, James Vane, that Dorian is no good for her.
Overcome by her emotions for Dorian, Sibyl decides that she can no longer act, wondering how
she can pretend to love on the stage now that she has experienced the real thing. Dorian, who
loves Sibyl because of her ability to act, cruelly breaks his engagement with her. After doing so,
he returns home to notice that his face in Basil’s portrait of him has changed : it now sneers.
Frightened that his wish for his likeness in the painting to bear the ill effects of his behavior has
come true and that his sins will be recorded on the canvas, he resolves to make amends with
Sibyl the next day. The following afternoon, however, Lord Henry brings news that Sibyl has
killed herself. At Lord Henry’s urging, Dorian decides to consider her death a sort of artistic
triumph—she personified tragedy—and to put the matter behind him. Meanwhile, Dorian hides
his portrait in a remote upper room of his house, where no one other than he can watch its
transformation.
Lord Henry gives Dorian a book that describes the wicked exploits of a nineteenth-
century Frenchman; it becomes Dorian’s bible as he sinks ever deeper into a life of sin and
corruption. He lives a life devoted to garnering new experiences and sensations with no regard
for conventional standards of morality or the consequences of his actions. Eighteen years pass.
Dorian’s reputation suffers in circles of polite London society, where rumors spread
regarding his scandalous exploits. His peers nevertheless continue to accept him because he
remains young and beautiful. The figure in the painting, however, grows increasingly wizened
and hideous. On a dark, foggy night, Basil Hallward arrives at Dorian’s home to confront him
about the rumors that plague his reputation. The two argue, and Dorian eventually offers Basil a
look at his (Dorian’s) soul. He shows Basil the now-hideous portrait, and Hallward, horrified,
begs him to repent. Dorian claims it is too late for penance and kills Basil in a fit of rage.
In order to dispose of the body, Dorian employs the help of an estranged friend, a doctor,
whom he blackmails. The night after the murder, Dorian makes his way to an opium den, where
he encounters James Vane, who attempts to avenge Sibyl’s death. Dorian escapes to his country
estate. While entertaining guests, he notices James Vane peering in through a window, and he
becomes wracked by fear and guilt. When a hunting party accidentally shoots and kills Vane,
Dorian feels safe again. He resolves to amend his life but cannot muster the courage to confess
his crimes, and the painting now reveals his supposed desire to repent for what it is—hypocrisy.
In a fury, Dorian picks up the knife he used to stab Basil Hallward and attempts to destroy the
painting. There is a crash, and his servants enter to find the portrait, unharmed, showing Dorian
Gray as a beautiful young man. On the floor lies the body of their master—an old man, horribly
wrinkled and disfigured, with a knife plunged into his heart.
The story begins in the studio of painter Basil Hallward, who is entertaining his old
friend, the relentlessly philosophical Lord Henry Wotton. Basil confides to Henry that he is
working on a portrait, the finest he has ever done, depicting a beautiful youth, Dorian Gray,
who has had an extraordinary influence on him. The influence is so great, in fact, that he refuses
to exhibit the picture, for fear of the secret passion it reveals.
Surprised by this passion in Basil, Henry wants to meet this Dorian Gray, and as luck
would have it, Dorian arrives at the studio before Basil can remove Lord Henry. Basil warns
Henry that he is not to damage Dorian. He is very serious and protective over the young man. As
it turns out, he has a right to worry. Lord Henry brings out his finest display of philosophical
chatter for Dorian and the boy is in awe of the new ideas he’s introduced to, of hedonism and
aesthetics.
Basil excitedly finishes his portrait, and it is agreed that it is the best thing he’s ever done. After
hearing Lord Henry’s warning that his beauty and youth will fade, Dorian has an extreme
response to the portrait. The passing of time and the certainty of his own aging terrify him and he
wishes that he could trade places with the portrait, maintaining his youth while the paint alters
with time. Basil offers to destroy the portrait, and Henry offers to keep it for himself, but Dorian
has a fascination for it and decides he must have it.
Inspired by Lord Henry, Dorian begins to seek every experience of life. He goes to parts of
London that some people of his social stature never see, and finds a shabby theater, performing
Shakespeare. Here, he falls in love with Sybil Vane, a beautiful young actress who embodies
Shakespeare’s heroines. Her brother, Jim Vane, does not approve of the match, and tells their
mother to do a better job of protecting Sybil while he is away at sea, but Sybil is in love with her
‘Prince Charming’ and is determined to marry him.
Tragedy strikes when Sybil’s new love for Dorian causes her acting to become completely
lifeless. Now that she has found real love, she explains, the idea of Romeo is nothing to her.
Dorian is heartbroken. He finds he cannot love Sybil without her art, and calls off the
engagement. When he returns home, Dorian notices that his portrait has changed somehow. It
has grown a cruel expression. Could it be that his wish has come true? Dorian is terrified and
pledges to make it up to Sybil, but before he can, he receives word that she has killed herself.
Dorian becomes haunted by the portrait and hides it, locked in the top room of his house. But he
continues to be affected by Lord Henry’s theories, living for the art of experience and pleasure.
He loses his remorse. Influenced especially by a particular book about a beautiful boy just like
him, he fills his life with decadence and dangerous explorations. His reputation sours, but he is
so charming and wealthy that he is still welcome in the highest circles. However, when
confronted by Basil about the rumors surrounding him, Dorian reveals the portrait to him and is
so filled with rage by Basil’s horrified reaction that he stabs and kills him.
Dorian blackmails a man called Alan Campbell to cleanly dispose of Basil’s body. Dorian then
escapes to opium dens, seeking to forget what he has done and the portrait, but while there, he is
attacked Jim Vane, who is looking to avenge his sister’s death. Dorian’s impossible youthfulness
saves him, but the image of Jim haunts him even when he goes to stay in the country with his
friends. On a hunting trip, a man is killed accidentally and it turns out to be Jim Vane, ensuring
that Dorian's crimes will never be discovered.
Dorian vows that he will become good but he will not turn himself in. When the portrait reveals
this hypocrisy, Dorian’s hope is lost. In a fit of rage, he grabs a knife and goes to destroy the
painting. A terrible cry is heard and when found by the servants, Dorian is lying dead on the
floor, old and hideous, while the painting hangs in its original, beautiful state.
Paranoid that someone might discover the secret of the painting, and therefore the true nature of
his soul, Dorian hides the image in his attic. Over the next several years, Dorian's face remains
young and innocent, despite his many selfish affairs and scandals. He is an extremely popular
socialite, admired for his fine taste and revered as a fashionable trend-setter. The picture,
however, continues to age, and grows more unattractive with each foul deed. Dorian cannot keep
himself from looking at the picture periodically, but he is appalled by it, and is only truly happy
when he manages to forget its existence. He immerses himself in various obsessions, studying
mysticism, jewelry, music, and ancient tapestries. These interests, however, are all merely
distractions that allow him to forget the hideousness of his true soul.
One night, Basil visits Dorian to confront him about all of the terrible rumors he has heard. The
painter wants to believe that his friend is stll a good person. Dorian decides to show him the
portrait so that he can see the true degradation of his soul, but when Basil sees it he is horrified,
and urges his friend to repent for his sins. Basil's reaction enrages Dorian, and he murders the
artist with a knife. To dispose of the body, he blackmails an estranged acquaintance, Alan
Campbell, a chemist who is able to burn the body in the attic's fireplace. Alan has already been
driven into isolation by Dorian's corrupting influence, and this action eventually compels him to
commit suicide.
Not long after, Dorian visits an opium den and is attacked by James Vane, Sibyl's brother,
who has sworn revenge on the man that drove his sister to suicide. 18 years have passed since the
event, however, yet Dorian still looks like a 20-year-old youth. James thinks that he is mistaken,
and Dorian escapes before his would-be murderer learns the truth. Over the next several days
Dorian lives in fear, sure that James is searching for him. While hunting one day, Dorian's friend
Geoffrey accidentally shoots a man hiding on Dorian's property. This stranger is revealed to be
James Vane. Dorian is overcome with relief, but cannot escape the fact that four deaths now
weigh on his conscience.
Deciding to change his life for the better, Dorian commits a good deed by refusing to
corrupt a young girl who has fallen in love with him. He checks the portrait, hoping to find
that it has changed for the better, but when he realizes that the only thing that has changed
is the new, hypocritical smirk on the wrinkled face, he realizes that even his effort to save
his soul was driven by vanity. In a fit of despair, he decides to destroy the picture with the
same knife that he used to kill Basil, its creator. Downstairs, Dorian's servants hear a
shriek, and rush upstairs to find their master dead on the floor, the knife plunged into his
own chest. Dorian's youthful countenance is gone, and his servants are only able to
recognize him by the jewelry on his fingers.
Wilde also explores this theme by blurring the line between life and art. Characters in the novel
include actresses who live as though they are constantly on stage, and a painter who values a
friendship predominantly because the relationship improves his ability to paint. Dorian himself
consciously bases his life and actions on a work of art: a book given to him by Lord Henry.
Vanity as Original Sin
Dorian's physical beauty is his most cherished attribute, and vanity is, as a consequence, his most
crippling vice. Once a sense of the preciousness of his own beauty has been instilled in him by
Lord Henry, all of Dorian's actions, from his wish for undying youth at the beginning of the
novel to his desperate attempt to destroy the portrait at the end, are motivated by vanity. Even his
attempts at altruism are driven by a desire to improve the appearance of his soul. Throughout the
novel, vanity haunts Dorian, seeming to damn his actions before he even commits them; vanity is
his original sin. Dorian's fall from grace, then, is the consequence of his decision to embrace
vanity - and indeed, all new and pleasurable feelings - as a virtue, at the behest of Lord Henry,
his corrupter. In the preface to the novel, Wilde invites us to ponder the inescapability of vanity
in our own relationship to art when he states that "it is the spectator, and not life, that art really
mirrors." If we see ourselves in art, and find art to be beautiful, then it follows that we, like
Dorian, are in fact admiring our own beauty.
The Duplicity of One's Public and Private Selves
This theme is prominent in much of Wilde's work. It plays a central role in The Importace of
Being Earnest, and is prominent throughout this novel, as well. In addition to the protagonist,
many of the novel's characters are greatly concerned with their reputations. Lord Henry
and Basil Hallward both counsel Dorian on how to best preserve his good status in the public
eye. When crimes are committed, it is not personal absolution that anyone is concerned with, but
whether or not the guilty party will be held responsible by the public. In this way, each character
in the novel possesses an awareness of a split identity: one that is defined by the public, and one
that they define themselves. The figure of Dorian is an allegorical representation of this
condition. The portrait is a literal visualization of Dorian's private self, the state of his soul, while
Dorian himself looks perpetually young, beautiful, and innocent.
Much of Wilde's social commentary in the novel springs from his manipulation of this theme.
People's responses to Dorian constantly highlight the overwhelming superficiality of Victorian
London (if not people in general). Because Dorian always looks innocent, most of the people he
encounters assume that he is a good, kind person. Dorian literally gets away with murder because
people are automatically more willing to believe their eyes than anything else.
The Value of Beauty and Youth
Lord Henry claims to value beauty and youth above all else. It is this belief, when imparted to
Dorian, that drives the protagonist to make the wish that ultimately damns him. When Dorian
realizes that he will keep his youthful appearance regardless of whatever immoral actions he
indulges in, he considers himself free of the moral constraints faced by ordinary men. He values
his physical appearance more than the state of his soul, which is openly displayed by the ever-
increasing degradation of the portrait. This superficial faith in the ultimate value of youth and
beauty is therefore the driving mechanism behind the protagonist's damnation. In this way, The
Picture of Dorian Gray may be read as a moralistic tale warning against the dangers of
valuing one's appearance too highly, and of neglecting one's conscience.
It is important to bear in mind that the beauty that Dorian incessantly pursues is a beauty defined
by a purely artistic sensibility, as opposed to a humanitarian one. When faced with the news of
his fiance's suicide, Dorian views the event as satisfyingly melodramatic. His obsession with
aesthetic beauty prevents Dorian from attending to the pangs of his own conscience.
Influence and Corruption
Dorian begins the novel as an innocent youth. Under Lord Henry's influence he becomes corrupt,
and eventually begins corrupting other youths himself. One of the major philosophical questions
raised by this novel is that of where to locate the responsibility for a person's misdeeds. If one
engages in a moralistic reading, The Picture of Dorian Gray can be seen as a lesson in
taking responsibility for one's actions. Dorian often points to Lord Henry as the source of his
corruption. However, when contemplating the plights of others, Dorian lays the blame at their
own feet rather than considering the role that he might have played in their downfall.
Homosexuality
This is the theme that Wilde was alluding to when he wrote of the "note of Doom that
like a purple thread runs through the cold cloth of Dorian Gray" in a letter to his young lover,
Bosie, following his ruinous court appearances. He calls the theme of homosexuality a "note of
doom" because sodomy and homosexuality in general were severly punishable offenses in
Victorian England, and it was under such charges that Wilde was brought to trial.
In the novel, there are strong homosexual undertones in the relationships between the
three central characters (Dorian, Lord Henry, and Basil Hallward), as well as between Dorian
and several of the young men whose lives he is said to have "ruined", most notably Alan
Campbell. In his revision of the novel for its official release, after it appeared
in Lippincott's Monthly Magazine, Wilde removed all of the most blatant references to
homosexuality. However, the idea of sexual affection between men proved too integral to the
characters and their interactions to be entirely expunged from the novel. This theme has
prompted many critics to read the novel as the story of a man's struggle with his socially
unacceptable proclivities. Indeed, some feel that Wilde was working out his own conflicted
feelings on the subject through the novel.
Benjamin Constant first used the phrase l'art pour l'art (French, meaning "art for art," or "art for
art's sake") in 1804; Victor Cousin popularized the words that became a catch-phrase for
Aestheticism in the 1890s. French writers such as Théophile Gautier and Charles-Pierre
Baudelaire contributed significantly to the movement.
Oscar Wilde did not invent Aestheticism, but he was a dramatic leader in promoting the
movement near the end of the nineteenth century. Wilde was especially influenced as a college
student by the works of the English poet and critic Algernon Charles Swinburne and the
American writer Edgar Allan Poe. The English essayist Walter Pater, an advocate of "art for art's
sake," helped to form Wilde's humanistic aesthetics in which he was more concerned with the
individual, the self, than with popular movements like Industrialism or Capitalism. Art was not
meant to instruct and should not concern itself with social, moral, or political guidance.
Like Baudelaire, Wilde advocated freedom from moral restraint and the limitations of society.
This point of view contradicted Victorian convention in which the arts were supposed to be
spiritually uplifting and instructive. Wilde went a step further and stated that the artist's life was
even more important than any work that he produced; his life was to be his most important body
of work.
The most important of Wilde's critical works, published in May 1891, is a volume
titled Intentions. It consists of four essays: "The Decay of Lying," "Pen, Pencil and Poison,"
"The Critic as Artist," and "The Truth of Masks." These and the contemporary essay "The Soul
of Man Under Socialism" affirm Wilde's support of Aestheticism and supply the philosophical
context for his novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray.
"The Decay of Lying" was first published in January 1889. Wilde called it a "trumpet against the
gate of dullness" in a letter to Kate Terry Lewis. The dialogue, which Wilde felt was his best,
takes place in the library of a country house in Nottinghamshire. The participants are Cyril and
Vivian, which were the names of Wilde's sons (the latter spelled "Vyvyan"). Almost
immediately, Vivian advocates one of the tenets of Wilde's Aestheticism: Art is superior to
Nature. Nature has good intentions but can't carry them out. Nature is crude, monotonous, and
lacking in design when compared to Art.
According to Vivian, man needs the temperament of the true liar" with his frank, fearless
statements, his superb irresponsibility, his healthy, natural disdain of proof of any kind!" Artists
with this attitude will not be shackled by sterile facts but will be able to tell beautiful truths that
have nothing to do with fact.
"Pen, Pencil and Poison" was first published in January 1889. It is a biographical essay on the
notorious writer, murderer, and forger Thomas Griffiths Wainewright, who used the pen name
"Janus Weathercock."
Wilde's approach is that Wainewright's criminal activities reveal the soul of a true artist. The
artist must have a "concentration of vision and intensity of purpose" that exclude moral or ethical
judgment. True aesthetes belong to the "elect," as Wilde calls them in "The Decay of Lying," and
are beyond such concerns. As creative acts, there is no significant difference between art and
murder. The artist often will conceal his identity behind a mask, but Wilde maintains that the
mask is more revealing than the actual face. Disguises intensify the artist's personality. Life itself
is an art, and the true artist presents his life as his finest work. Wilde, who attempted to make this
distinction in his own life through his attempts to re-create himself, includes this theme in The
Picture of Dorian Gray.
The longest of the essays in Intentions, "The Critic as Artist," first appeared in two parts (July
and September 1890) with the significant title, "The True Function and Value in Criticism; With
Some Remarks on the Importance of Doing Nothing: A Dialogue." It is considered to be a
response to Matthew Arnold's essay "The Function of Criticism at the Present Time" (1865).
Arnold's position is that the creative faculty is higher than the critical. The central thesis of
Wilde's essay is that the critic must reach beyond the creative work that he considers.
The setting of the dialogue is a library in a house in London's Piccadilly area overlooking Green
Park, and the principal characters are Gilbert and Ernest.
Along with the central theme of the importance of the critic, Gilbert espouses the significance of
the individual. The man makes the times; the times do not make the man. Further, he advocates
that "Sin is an essential element of progress." Sin helps assert individuality and avoid the
monotony of conformity. Rules of morality are non-creative and, thus, evil.
The best criticism must cast off ordinary guidelines, especially those of Realism, and accept the
aesthetics of Impressionism — what a reader feels when reading a work of literature rather than
what a reader thinks, or reasons, while reading. The critic must transcend literal events and
consider the "imaginative passions of the mind." The critic should not seek to explain a work of
art but should seek to deepen its mystery.
"The Truth of Masks" first appeared in May 1885 under the title "Shakespeare and Stage
Costume." The essay originally was a response to an article written by Lord Lytton in December
1884, in which Lytton argues that Shakespeare had little interest in the costumes that his
characters wear. Wilde takes the opposite position.
More important within the context of Intentions, Wilde himself always put great emphasis on
appearance and the masks, or costumes, with which the artist or individual confronts the world.
Wilde also raises the question of self-contradiction. In art, he says, there is no such thing as an
absolute truth: "A Truth is that whose contradictory is also true." This sentiment recalls Wilde's
tremendous respect for the thoughts of Walt Whitman. In "Song of Myself," Whitman writes,
"Do I contradict myself? / Very well then I contradict myself, / (I am large, I contain
multitudes)."
"The Soul of Man Under Socialism" first appeared in February 1891. In it, Wilde expresses his
Aesthetics primarily through the emphasis that the essay places on the individual. In an unusual
interpretation of socialism, Wilde believed that the individual would be allowed to flourish under
the system. He thus warns against tyrannical rulers and concludes that the best form of
government for the artist is no government at all.
In this essay, it's easy to see that Wilde loved to shock. If Walt Whitman wanted to wake the
world with his "barbaric yawp," Wilde preferred aphorisms, paradox, irony, and satire. While
Wilde wouldn't want to be accused of sincerity, he was certainly devoted to Aestheticism in his
life as well as his art.
Oscar Wilde was just ten weeks past his twenty-seventh birthday when he boarded the S. S.
Arizona on December 24, 1881, destined for America and a year of lecturing as an expert on art
and literature.
Wilde saw himself as a representative of the Aesthetic Movement and hoped to encourage an
appreciation for beauty in an America that was largely devoted to industrialization. The tour was
promoted to exploit Wilde's reputation as an aesthete. The Arizona arrived in New York on
January 2, 1882. Local newspaper reporters were so eager to get a quote from Wilde that several
of them hired a launch boat to bring them aboard Wilde's ship before it docked. In an interview
the next day, Wilde welcomed his role as defender of the arts: "I am here to diffuse beauty, and I
have no objection to saying that."
The timing of the tour had everything to do with the recent success of a Gilbert and Sullivan
play Patience; or Bunthorne's Bride, which had opened to enthusiastic reviews at the Standard
Theatre in New York in September 1881. Patience satirized the Aesthetic Movement and
presented a character named Bunthorne who personified the popular stereotypes of the aesthete.
The caricature featured long hair, knee breeches, silk stockings, and effete mannerisms.
Bunthorne was fond of gazing at lilies and sunflowers. The play recalled one of many legends
that Wilde delighted in cultivating. Supposedly he had walked down Piccadilly dressed in such a
costume and carrying a flower. Wilde's son Vyvyan later quoted his father's comment on the
story: "Anyone could have done that; the difficult thing to achieve was to make people believe
that I had done it." As usual, perception was more important than reality for Wilde.
Despite an impressive resonant voice, Wilde made no claim of being a great orator; however, he
tried to give the audiences what they expected in appearance as well as a certain degree of
enlightenment. He noted on one occasion that the audience was disappointed that he had worn
ordinary clothing rather than his knee breeches. On January 31, Wilde was to speak at the Music
Hall in Boston. Sixty Harvard students decided to parody Wilde's clothes and manners. When the
auditorium was nearly full, the students, each dressed like Bunthorne, paraded in pairs down the
center aisle to their seats in the front rows, swishing sunflowers and lilies as they went. Wilde,
who had been tipped off, appeared in conventional evening dress. After welcoming the students
and the rest of the audience, he drolly commented, "Caricature is the tribute that mediocrity pays
to genius." This won loud applause from the entire audience. He then sighed a quiet prayer,
"Save me from my disciples," which again evoked enthusiastic applause.
Wilde's appearances were not always so well received. Lecturing on literature or "The English
Renaissance" or "The House Beautiful" or "The Decorative Arts," he sometimes spoke to small
crowds or received mediocre reviews. At other times, he was a huge success, so much so that his
tour, originally scheduled for three months, was extended to ten months. He spoke in more than a
hundred cities and towns throughout the Northeast, Midwest, South, and West, and in several
cities in Canada. He appeared in Philadelphia, Boston, and San Francisco but also in Atchison,
Kansas; Brantford, Ontario; Macon, Georgia; and Galveston, Texas.
Wilde's pose as an aesthete was all the more effective because he himself was a very large man,
more than six feet three inches tall. Although he seldom engaged in sports, he was quite strong
and known as a good boxer. Sir Frank Benson, himself an athlete at Oxford, reported in his
memoirs that only one man in the college "had a ghost of a chance in a tussle with Wilde." On
one occasion, four undergraduates entered Wilde's room and broke up his furniture. Wilde
caught them in the act, booted out one, doubled over a second with a punch, tossed a third in the
air, and carried the fourth to the man's own room, where Wilde invited spectators to join him in
sampling the would-be-ruffian's wines and spirits.
On tour, Wilde took special delight in meeting ordinary people. (Remember that many of the
accounts of these meetings come from Wilde's letters to friends and relatives back home, and he
was never one to allow boring facts to get in the way of a good story.) One of his favorite visits,
a highlight of the trip, was to Leadville, Colorado, high in the Rocky Mountains, and to a silver
mine called "Matchless." Wilde read passages from the autobiography of Benvenuto Cellini, the
sixteenth-century Italian artist who was an eminent silversmith. Wilde said that the gun-toting
miners were disappointed that he had not brought Cellini with him. When Wilde reported that the
artist was dead, one of the miners asked, "Who shot him?"
Another visit, to the state penitentiary in Lincoln, Nebraska, produced observations made ironic
by Wilde's own incarceration thirteen years later. Wilde's letter home spoke of the horrifying
existence and the mean-looking men, adding in a letter to Helen Sickert, "I should hate to see a
criminal with a noble face." He did ask the inmates if they read and what they read. It gave him
pause when he discovered that some were devoted to Shelley and Dante. Wilde himself would
later read Dante in prison.
While on tour, Wilde met with various dignitaries and writers, including Walt Whitman and
Henry James. The visit with Whitman, at the poet's home in Camden, New Jersey, was
precipitated by an interview in which Wilde was asked to name his favorite American poets. He
mentioned Whitman and Ralph Waldo Emerson. Wilde actually preferred Edgar Allan Poe for
his dark moods and Aestheticism, but Poe was dead. Wilde was enough of a self-promoter to
mention living writers.
The Philadelphia Press interviewed Whitman at length the evening of his introduction to Wilde
(January 19, 1882). Whitman reported that he and Wilde had "a jolly good time" and that Wilde
was genuine, honest, and without affectation. They spoke of Tennyson, Browning, and
Swinburne while sharing a bottle of homemade elderberry wine. Wilde was respectful and on his
best behavior. Later he would qualify his assessment of Whitman's poetry while continuing to
respect him as a philosopher and a man.
Wilde's meeting with Henry James was less successful. The novelist called on Wilde at the
latter's hotel in Washington, D. C., two days after Wilde's visit with Whitman. On this occasion,
Wilde was less than diplomatic. When James expressed nostalgia for London, Wilde chose to be
clever rather than considerate and commented, "You care for places? The world is my home."
Wilde's comment seems particularly inappropriate considering that James was the more
cultivated cosmopolitan. At any rate, James concluded that Wilde was "a fatuous fool" and "a
tenth-rate cad."
Wilde returned to England at the end of the year having concluded a generally successful and
profitable tour. He later (1883–85) conducted a sporadic series of lectures on his impressions of
America to British audiences.
Critical Essays Three Trials: Oscar Wilde Goes to Court 1895
Wilde believed in his way of life so strongly that he eventually spent several years in jail after his
attempts to defend it.
At issue was Wilde's relationship with Lord Alfred ("Douglas"). Wilde was forty years old at the
time of the trials; Lord Alfred was sixteen years his junior but no child, at age twenty-four, and
certainly not an innocent. They first met in the early summer of 1891. Douglas was a devoted fan
of Wilde's novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray, claiming that he had read it either nine or fourteen
times. Lord Alfred was a slight, handsome, impetuous young man who already had a very
difficult relationship with his father. He had homosexual relations with several boys at Oxford
and was blackmailed in the spring of 1892. He was especially irresponsible about money, often
insisting that Wilde spend lavish amounts on him.
Lord Alfred's father, the Eighth Marquess of Queensberry (1844–1900), was irate about the
relationship between his son and Wilde and sought to discredit Wilde. While Douglas was
visiting Algeria, the father hoped to disrupt the opening performance of Wilde's play The
Importance of Being Earnest but was turned away. On February 18, 1895, he left a card for
Wilde at the Albemarle Club, addressed "To Oscar Wilde posing Somdomite," misspelling the
last word. Homosexual activity was illegal in England.
Wilde had several choices. Having been accused, publicly, in writing, he might have cause to
bring a libel suit against the Marquess. The card certainly was seen by the hall porter, Sidney
Wright, who knew that an insult was intended and carefully noted the details of the card's arrival,
although he was not able to deliver it to Wilde for ten days. Wilde wrote to his good friend,
Robert Ross, stating that he felt compelled to pursue criminal prosecution of the Marquess. Ross
wisely advised Wilde to ignore the card and allow Lord Alfred and his father to settle their
differences themselves. Another alternative was for Wilde to visit France for a time and hope
that tempers would cool.
Wilde's biggest problem was that the accusation was true. Wilde had several such relationships
with young men, including Douglas. A written statement is not libelous if it is true. However,
Wilde assured his attorneys that the charge was false. There is some evidence that Wilde tried to
back out of the trial at the last moment, saying that he could not afford it, but Lord Alfred was
adamant in wanting to prosecute his father and promised financial support from relatives.
Queensberry's trial opened at the Central Criminal Court (Old Bailey) on April 3, 1895. The trial
went badly for Wilde. He was asked several questions about The Picture of Dorian Gray and the
relationships between older and younger men in that novel, and he was accused of relations with
other young men, not just Lord Alfred. Sir Edward Clarke, his attorney, advised Wilde to
withdraw, hoping privately (he revealed later) that Wilde could escape the country. Wilde had
several hours during which he could have done so. Ross and others encouraged him to flee, but
he stayed. A warrant was issued for Wilde's arrest since Queensberry's justification forced the
authorities to recognize Wilde's implied guilt. Wilde wrote to the Evening News that he could not
win the case without pitting Douglas against his father in court and chose not to do so — a
calculated response by Wilde.
The second trial began on April 26. Clarke again represented Wilde, this time without fee. The
most dramatic part of the trial involved a poem written by Douglas and titled "Two Loves,"
which ends with the words, "I am the love that dare not speak its name." When asked what that
might mean, Wilde responded with such eloquence that many in the gallery burst into applause,
although some hissed. Wilde alluded to Michelangelo and Shakespeare, among others, as older
men who had "deep, spiritual affection" for younger men in "the noblest form of affection." He
argued that such relationships were much misunderstood in the nineteenth century and the reason
for his being on trial. One dare not speak the name of this noble love, he concluded, because it
was so misunderstood. The speech probably influenced the jury's inability to agree on a verdict.
The third trial, a second attempt to prosecute Wilde (after the hung jury of the second trial),
opened on May 22. Again, friends urged Wilde to flee the country, but he wrote to Lord Alfred
that he "did not want to be called a coward or a deserter." The prosecution benefited from the
previous trial and won. Wilde was found guilty of indecent behavior with men, a lesser charge
but one for which he received the maximum penalty under the Criminal Law Amendment Act:
two years at hard labor.
Those familiar with the history of the period might note parallels between the Dreyfus Affair
(1894–1906) in France and Oscar Wilde's trials in England. Alfred Dreyfus was the son of a
Jewish textile manufacturer; he joined the military and rose to the rank of captain. He was
accused of selling military secrets to the Germans and convicted of treason in December 1894.
The trial was highly irregular, and the conviction was based on insufficient evidence. Much of
the impetus for the trial came from political conservatives, anti-Semitic groups, and publications
such as the newspaper La Libre Parole. They encouraged the public to believe that French Jews
were disloyal. The novelist Émile Zola led other intellectuals and politicians in a campaign on
Dreyfus' behalf. After two more trials and considerate turmoil, Dreyfus eventually was pardoned
and the judgment set aside. Dreyfus had been persecuted for religious and political reasons;
Oscar Wilde was persecuted for being a homosexual.
Themes
Main Ideas Themes
Themes are the fundamental and often universal ideas explored in a literary work.
Motifs
Main Ideas Motifs
Motifs are recurring structures, contrasts, and literary devices that can help to develop and inform the text’s
major themes.
The Picture of Dorian Gray
The picture of Dorian Gray, “the most magical of mirrors,” shows Dorian the physical burdens
of age and sin from which he has been spared. For a time, Dorian sets his conscience aside and
lives his life according to a single goal: achieving pleasure. His painted image, however, asserts
itself as his conscience and hounds him with the knowledge of his crimes: there he sees the
cruelty he showed to Sibyl Vane and the blood he spilled killing Basil Hallward.
Symbols are objects, characters, figures, and colors used to represent abstract ideas or concepts.
James Vane
James Vane is less a believable character than an embodiment of Dorian’s tortured conscience.
As Sibyl’s brother, he is a rather flat caricature of the avenging relative. Still, Wilde saw him as
essential to the story, adding his character during his revision of 1891. Appearing at the dock and
later at Dorian’s country estate, James has an almost spectral quality. Like the ghost of Jacob
Marley in Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol, who warns Scrooge of the sins he will have to
face, James appears with his face “like a white handkerchief” to goad Dorian into accepting
responsibility for the crimes he has committed.
The Yellow Book
Lord Henry gives Dorian a copy of the yellow book as a gift. Although he never gives the title,
Wilde describes the book as a French novel that charts the outrageous experiences of its
pleasure-seeking protagonist (we can fairly assume that the book in question is Joris-Karl
Huysman’s decadent nineteenth-century novel À Rebours, translated as “Against the Grain” or
“Against Nature”). The book becomes like holy scripture to Dorian, who buys nearly a dozen
copies and bases his life and actions on it. The book represents the profound and damaging
influence that art can have over an individual and serves as a warning to those who would
surrender themselves so completely to such an influence.
Key Facts
Main Ideas Key Facts
Context
Further Study Context
Oscar Wilde was born on October 16, 1854, in Dublin, Ireland. He was educated at Trinity
College in Dublin and at Magdalen College, Oxford, and settled in London, where he married
Constance Lloyd in 1884. In the literary world of Victorian London, Wilde fell in with an artistic
crowd that included W. B. Yeats, the great Irish poet, and Lillie Langtry, mistress to the Prince
of Wales. A great conversationalist and a famous wit, Wilde began by publishing mediocre
poetry but soon achieved widespread fame for his comic plays. The first, Vera; or, The
Nihilists, was published in 1880. Wilde followed this work with Lady Windermere’s
Fan (1892), A Woman of No Importance (1893), An Ideal Husband (1895), and his most famous
play, The Importance of Being Earnest (1895). Although these plays relied upon relatively
simple and familiar plots, they rose well above convention with their brilliant dialogue and biting
satire.
Wilde published his only novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray, before he reached the height of his
fame. The first edition appeared in the summer of 1890 in Lippincott’s Monthly Magazine. It was
criticized as scandalous and immoral. Disappointed with its reception, Wilde revised the novel in
1891, adding a preface and six new chapters. The Preface (as Wilde calls it) anticipates some of
the criticism that might be leveled at the novel and answers critics who charge The Picture of
Dorian Gray with being an immoral tale. It also succinctly sets forth the tenets of Wilde’s
philosophy of art. Devoted to a school of thought and a mode of sensibility known as
aestheticism, Wilde believed that art possesses an intrinsic value—that it is beautiful and
therefore has worth, and thus needs serve no other purpose, be it moral or political. This attitude
was revolutionary in Victorian England, where popular belief held that art was not only a
function of morality but also a means of enforcing it. In the Preface, Wilde also cautioned
readers against finding meanings “beneath the surface” of art. Part gothic novel, part comedy of
manners, part treatise on the relationship between art and morality, The Picture of Dorian
Gray continues to present its readers with a puzzle to sort out. There is as likely to be as much
disagreement over its meaning now as there was among its Victorian audience, but, as Wilde
notes near the end of the Preface, “Diversity of opinion about a work of art shows that the work
is new, complex, and vital.”
In 1891, the same year that the second edition of The Picture of Dorian Gray was published,
Wilde began a homosexual relationship with Lord Alfred Douglas, an aspiring but rather
untalented poet. The affair caused a good deal of scandal, and Douglas’s father, the marquess of
Queensberry, eventually criticized it publicly. When Wilde sued the marquess for libel, he
himself was convicted under English sodomy laws for acts of “gross indecency.” In 1895, Wilde
was sentenced to two years of hard labor, during which time he wrote a long, heartbreaking letter
to Lord Alfred titled De Profundis (Latin for “Out of the Depths”). After his release, Wilde left
England and divided his time between France and Italy, living in poverty. He never published
under his own name again, but, in 1898, he did publish under a pseudonym The Ballad of
Reading Gaol, a lengthy poem about a prisoner’s feelings toward another prisoner about to be
executed. Wilde died in Paris on November 30, 1900, having converted to Roman Catholicism
on his deathbed.