The Picture of Dorian Gray

The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde, 1891

This is one of those novels I didn’t love until I read an analysis on (and, in this case, discussed in my Wilde class). 

And wow. Now I love it. 

So we’ve got three characters—Basil Hallward, artist, Lord Henry Wotton (Harry), intellect, and Dorian Gray, attractive youth. 

I think the best way to review a piece of classic literature such as this is to make it incredibly personal (since there are already so many opinions and interpretations), and I think my ideas on the novel would be best understood through discussion of a few of Wilde’s quotes. 

If they know nothing of victory, they are at least spared the knowledge of defeat.” This is a quote by the artist Basil Hallward, who has painted a picture of his homosocial muse, Dorian Gray. His intellect friend, Henry Wotton, encourages Basil to have the painting shown in an art gallery, but Basil refuses, musing on the depth of the painting and the tragedy of the beauty shown. 

There’s an implication of the danger of extremes, here; in how the more beautiful, or the more perfect (a reach at Platonic ideals, which Basil is the symbol for), the more it matters. Basil’s apprehension is that there’s too much of his own soul revealed in the painting, since the magnitude of his investment in Dorian’s beauty is extreme.

Henry laughs at the absurdity of Basil feeling too revealed by the painting (since Basil is nothing like Dorian), to which Basil says he would never want to be like Dorian, because with Dorian’s beauty comes these high-staked pressures and responsibilities to stay upheld. 

On Basil’s infatuation with Dorian, he says this about their first encounter: “When our eyes met, I felt that I was growing pale. A curious sensation of terror came over me. I knew that I had come face to face with someone whose mere personality was so fascinating that, if I allowed myself to do so, it would absorb my whole nature, my whole soul, my very art itself.” 

…without intending it, I have put into it some expression of all this curious artistic idolatry, of which, of course, I have never cared to speak to him. He knows nothing about it. He shall never know anything about it…” 

This is another quote from Basil, on Dorian Gray. The intrigue for me on this one was not only the aspect of “idolatry” which one picks up oftentimes in situations of unreciprocated infatuation (what do we call this in 2024 pop culture…limerence?), but that this fear of honesty, or vulnerability, is something so un-unique, so trite, that it was written about by Oscar Wilde in 1891. We talk on TikTok about our silly “canon events” regarding our little Gen Z heartbreaks and such, to the point that it feels like the guessing game of who’s in love with who was some social malfunction that has just begun as the default way of engaging in romantic scenarios within the past 20 years or so. But I guess not? I guess lovers in the 1800s also didn’t want to give up their hearts. Hmmm, yeah. This thought piques me. It makes the trivial mess of miscommunication seem more…human nature. Why is this? 

What you have told me is quite a romance, a romance of art one might call it, and the worst of having a romance of any kind is that it leaves one so unromantic.” 

Welcome the voice of our Lord Henry Wotton! Somewhat of a new hedonist (actually very what of a new hedonist; that’s specifically his function, in opposition to Basil’s platonic ideals). His character just dialogues and dialogues with such superfluous wisdom (ok I know a lot of people would say it’s not superfluous at all) and with such confidence that his influence, well, works [on Dorian]. 

But in class one of my colleagues came up with a great point about how we never actually see Henry engaging in hedonist activity; his character just merely works to influence Dorian, as if he gets off on seeing Dorian fall into his hedonistic ways. Basically it seems Henry’s pleasure is derived from his domination over Dorian, but I’m not quite sure that’s the general opinion of him. 

Anyway, this quote specifically is very telling of Henry’s Hedonistic scope. “Romance” for Henry is mystery; it’s in the chase; in the foreplay; it’s like the “edging” (if one will) of marriage is what brings the pleasure, but once the climax is reached, the rest is downhill and is therefore no longer enjoyable. (God, I hate to say it but I may agree…in most cases, that is. I’d be interested to hear perceptions of this in the comments).

In another one of my ironically favorite Lord Henry quotes: “Always! That is a dreadful word. It makes me shudder when I hear it. Women are so fond of using it. They spoil every romance by trying to make it last forever. It is a meaningless word, too. The only difference between a caprice and a life-long passion is that the caprice lasts a little longer.” 

The sense of his own beauty came on him like a revelation. He had never felt it before.” 

This is on Dorian having his main character moment. He’s looking at the painting Basil has made of him. We’ve all had a moment like this. A smile in the mirror where you’re like oh shit, if I weren’t myself I’d maybe think I’m beautiful. 

My dear boy, the people who love only once in their lives are really the shallow people. What they call their loyalty, and their fidelity, I call either the lethargy of custom or their lack of imagination.” 

Another piece of wisdom by our Lord Henry. Let it be noted, the man is married. We don’t get to know much of his wife, but he does mention her. Our impression is that she’s a bore—I’m sure she really isn’t. Anyway, I can agree in many cases, to love someone for a whole life may entail much holding on for the sake of convenience, complacency, and comfort, but let’s not forget the positive aspects which come with it such as discipline, determination, and acceptance. 

You said to me once that pathos left you unmoved but that beauty, mere beauty, could fill your eyes with tears.” 

Dorian says this to Lord Henry when he introduces the idea of his romance and one true love with the beautiful Sibyl Vane. Sibyl may be the most interesting storyline, because she’s a young girl of 16, a theater actress for female Shakespeare characters, and she has no personality of her own past the characters she plays (Juliet, Imogen, Rosalind, etc.) Sibyl is pure artifice. And then, once she feels Dorian’s love for her (Dorian, who she only ever refers to as Prince Charming), she loses her ability to act because Dorian has made her reality of love better than the illusions, or shadows (as she calls them) of her act. Of course Dorian wasn’t actually in love with Sibyl, he was in love with her theatrics, her ability to become her art. So he leaves her. She then commits suicide (like Ophelia) because she was not prepared for life outside of her delusions. Dorian, therefore, birthed her and killed her, on his hedonistic whims. Sibyl’s heartbreak scene, and Dorian’s apathetic response, is as follows: “‘Oh, don’t leave me.’ A fit of passionate sobbing choked her. She crouched on the for like a wounded thing, and Dorian Gray, with his beautiful eyes, looked down at her, and his chiseled lips curled in exquisite disdain. There is always something ridiculous about the emotions of people whom one has ceased to love. Sibyl Vane seemed to him to be absurdly melodramatic. Her tears and sobs annoyed him.” This is a catch-22 I wish to understand; why is it that we become so annoyed, hyper-annoyed, with people we no longer love?

The flameless tapers stand where we had left them, and beside them lies the half cut book that we had been studying, or the wired flower that we had worn at the ball, or the letter that we had been afraid to read, or that we had read too often.

This is a quote during chapter 11, which is a drawn-out section of heavy prose to show Dorian’s passage of time after he had been given access (“access” being my word of choice here because it’s as if this book is illicit) to a yellow book that Lord Henry had leant him. The narrator calls it a “poisonous” book following one character on his quest of the senses. I enjoy the meta-reading of this story point, as the novel of Dorian Gray itself was regarded in such a way by the Victorian public when it was published in 1890 and again in 1891. 

Anyway, in terms of this quote, I think it’s just beautiful. I love the idea of being “afraid” to read a letter, or of reading said letter “too often.” There’s an implication of the autonomy of words and emotions which have power over a person’s actions. 

You gave her good advice, and broke her heart. That was the beginning of your reformation.

You, you, you. Henry says this to Dorian, who decided to become a good person after Sibyl Vane’s suicide. It boggles my mind that this is the general perception of men—“I did something so horrible that it made a woman kill herself, but all will be okay once I seek my own retribution.” ?? Why so self-centered? Egocentric? Why is the woman you killed just gone? Her essence, her point then becomes your origin story. I think I’m so charged by this sentence because I don’t feel as though Wilde meant it ironically. I think he thought this was a wise truth (as Henry’s character often thinks). Am I wrong in this interpretation?

I can give this novel no less than 5 stars because it’s one of the most philosophical pieces of classic literary fiction that exists. (However, I will say, I wish it were more fun 🫠)

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