Chapter 5

 

So chapter 6 basically built on the fact that all the characters in the novel are obsessed with art - and most of them prefer it to real life. In this chapter it's Sybil Vane's mother who literally can't have a normal conversation with her own son, without contemplating its artistic quality:

The exaggerated folly of the threat, the passionate gesture that accompanied it, the mad melodramatic words, made life seem more vivid to her. She was familiar with the atmosphere. She breathed more freely, and for the first time for many months she really admired her son. She would have liked to have continued the scene on the same emotional scale, but he cut her short. [...] The moment was lost in vulgar details. It was with a renewed feeling of disappointment that she waved the tattered lace handkerchief from the window, as her son drove away. She was conscious that a great opportunity had been wasted. She consoled herself by telling Sibyl how desolate she felt her life would be, now that she had only one child to look after. She remembered the phrase. It had pleased her.

 

- The Picture of Dorian Grey, ch. 6

Honestly, I don't get these people. What's so wrong with their lives that they can't live in reality for one moment, but have to frame their entire existence within an artistic context? Something very strange is going on here.

 

The most interesting thing plot-wise that happened in this chapter was probably Sybil's brother, who basically made a threat upon Dorian's life, should he ever dare to hurt her. Some heavy foreshadowing there, I think ...

 

Chapter 7

 

Hooray for the first glimpse at the changed nature of Dorian's portrait! It was really creepy and I love the idea of mirror images and the play with the art imitating life/life imitating art trope that's at work here. The idea of the portrait becoming his conscious is quite an interesting one too, in this context. Let's see how this all plays out!

So, this chapter was all about how Lord Henry looks at Dorian like a work of art. At this point, it seems like he has total control about Dorian's view of life and social behaviour - and not for the better. Honestly, Lord Henry seems a bit like a pychopath to me, the way he only says things for their effect and the way he doesn't care about other people's feelings. It's horrid! And he seems really pleased that Dorian is turning into a mini Lord Henry, too.

 

The point of this is probably that this process of "creating" Dorian's new personality is supposed to mirror creating a piece of art - and I really think that's quite clever! But I still don't like Lord Henry's character :P! I mean, just listen to this guy:

Yes, the lad was premature. He was gathering his harvest while it was yet spring. The pulse and passion of youth were in him, but he was becoming self-conscious. It was delightful to watch him. With his beautiful face, and his beautiful soul, he was a thing to wonder at. It was no matter how it all ended, or was destined to end. He was like one of thos gracious figures in a pageant or a play, whose joys seem to be remote from one, but whose sorrows stir one's sense of beauty and whose wounds are like red roses.

 

- The Picture of Dorian Grey, ch. 4

"It was no matter how it all ended?" Seriously? My madman senses are tingling ...

A Philosopher's Dream

Set at the height of the Victorian era in London, this novel tells the story of a young man who becomes so enamored of his youth and beauty that he allows it to steal his soul. Corrupted by the flattery of a painter who idolized him and the careless words of a dandy that the only virtues to be had are youth and beauty, he makes a desperate plea that his portrait will age while he remains unchanged.
The premise is a fascinating one. What vices would one allow themself if they knew that it could never be seen on our faces by the outer world. However I think it is an inherently flaws concept, as most people are guided by a set of morals and ethics that would stop us long before we reached that state of corruption that the titular character does. However I thought it was greatly redeemed by the novel's conclusion.

More than anything, I found that the philosophical tone of the novel was overbearing. I enjoy the study of philosophy, and I don't typically mind it's presence in my books. That said, it so consumed the story that I found myself skimming not only passages but at one point a whole chapter. It was just too much and in my opinion detracted from the narrative.

I know that Wilde is much more widely known as a playwright, and as this was only my first taste of his style, I intend to try one of his plays to see if I find it more readable.

BR (re-read) with Kayl – Friday, January 9th :)

My oh my.

Another standard by which to judge other authors.

At the age of 43, I've finally gotten to Wilde (aside from his delightful children's tales) after many years of the "I'll get to him, I'll get to him, stop bothering me" stage. I wish you all hadn't stopped bothering me. Reading this at 23 might have helped me to understand some dark events and people better.

Not a novel to make one feel good, for sure. As a matter of fact, it left me feeling nauseous at a few points. Wilde is such a master of prose that he's able to describe perfectly the vacuous "new" hedonism he observed in late Victorian society with his characteristic wit yet show no signs of cynicism that might otherwise lead the reader to any dry conclusions. Rather than being an autopsy of the condition of morals, it is simply a body laid bare upon the table, complete with hair and scabs and scars and imperfections, leaving you mildly uncomfortable at the slight grin on its pale face.