242
pages
Publisher:
Penguin
Reading
Group Read
Blurb
Dorian Gray is young, rich and
beautiful. When he sees an exquisite portrait of himself, he is bewitched and
offers his soul in exchange for eternal youth and good looks.
Under the corrupting influence
of his friend Lord Henry Wotton, Dorian becomes drawn into a double life,
indulging his every desire in a secret world of pleasure and excess, while
remaining a gentleman in the eyes of polite society. Only his portrait bears
the traces of his decadence.
And as Dorian’s behaviour sinks
further into debauchery and cruelty, the bargain he has struck looks set to
destroy him …
Review
“Like the
painting of a sorrow,
A face without a
heart.”
Technically, this was a re-read
for me. Given that I was a teenager when I first (and last) read this book, it
is hardly surprising that I didn’t remember much about of the story except for
the main storyline in the broadest of terms.
I’m not quite sure what to say
about this book. I can’t honestly say I liked it, in the literal meaning of
like. The book’s theme and main character are too depraved to use that word.
Having said that, it was a great read; fascinating in a car-crash sorta way. I
found myself both horrified and fascinated most of the time, eager to keep on
reading despite the fact that I knew how the story was going to end.
The following is not so much a
review as a collection of thoughts that occurred to me while reading.
I do wonder what would have
happened to Dorian if he hadn’t been so easily influenced by Basil Hallward’s
statements about the temporary nature of beauty and Lord Henry’s overall
irreverence and bad influence. Lord Henry is the sort of person who manages to
sprout all sorts of nonsense in such a way that at first glance it all sounds
credible, if not deep and profound. In fact, I think Henry is the real villain
in this story since it is his desire to corrupt Dorian and watch what will
happen, that pushes the story into gear.
“Faithfulness is
to the emotional life what consistency is to the life of the intellect — simply
a confession of failure.”
– Lord Henry
What struck me about this
story, or rather, the way the main characters approach life, was the frivolity
of it all. No feeling, experience, or even thought seems to linger or hold its
value for more than a few hours at best. When Dorian first discovers Sybil has
killed herself after his careless dismissal of her, he is grief-stricken and
filled with guilt. But, only a matter of hours later Dorian discovers the
first, subtle, change in his portrait and he decides to abandon his morals.
“Eternal youth,
infinite passion, pleasures subtle and secret, wild joys and wilder sins — he
was to have all these things. The portrait was to bear the burden of his shame;
that was all.”
It’s impossible to read this
book and not marvel at how times have changed. Dorian is supposed to be evil,
or at least corrupted and guilty of corrupting others, and yet, to modern eyes,
we do not see any evidence of that (although there’s plenty to prove his
selfishness). Sure, breaking up with Sybil was cruelly done, but considering
they only knew each other for a matter of weeks it was the haste of their
engagement which startled me more than the fact he changed his mind (be it for
frivolous reasons, as his falling in love with her had been). Other misdeeds
are referred to but with so little detail that you couldn’t even call it
hinting at misdeeds. The only other less than respectable thing we witness, is
Dorian visiting an opium den. Opium use may have been something which was
frowned upon in Oscar Wilde’s time, but these days drug use, while under
certain circumstances certainly harmful, is nowhere near as shocking. The only
proof we have that Dorian has lead a less than positive life are his own
proclamations of the same and, of course, the portrait. Having said that, there
is something to be said for undisclosed (dark?) secrets; it’s impossible to
deny that they’re both frustrating and enticing. And of course my imagination
is a wondrous (horrendous?) thing. Of course, censorship being what it was,
Oscar Wilde couldn’t have gone into the details of Dorian’s misdeeds if he’d
wanted to.
And morality is not the only
thing that has changed over time. If I were to submit a story written the way
‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’ is to my editor, she would tell me to scrap whole
chapters. These days writers just don’t get away with long sections, never mind
whole chapters, filled with nothing but introspection.
I have plenty more thoughts and quotes, but I’ll keep them to
myself; this review is quite long enough. I’ll end it with the following.
That
the novel was a success de scandale does not surprise me at all. I am however mystified as to how
the book was later used as evidence against Wilde at the Old Bailey in 1895. It
really requires a rather determined form of reading between the lines in order
to conclude homosexuality. Then again, maybe this too is a sign of the times.
It is of course quite possible that sentences that I read as straightforward
would have had a different or double meaning in Wilde’s time.
I
started the book with a quote, so I’ll end it with one as well. This one was
picked because it gives me great comfort, even if I’m inclined to think it
means no such thing. J
“Diversity of opinion about a work of art shows that the work
is new, complex and vital.”
