It has been a while and the book has started fading from my memory a little, but I wanted to give Dorian one last look since I feel that is what it deserves. We’re going to potentially be moving to other topics after this, so I sent out a final feeler for a final discussion on the book. Regardless of what the future of the club has going for it, I’m going to give my own thoughts at least. Feel free to join me in these final ponderings on the picture of Dorian Gray (sorry if this ends being up very long :D):
Henry, the Devil, literally:
In hindsight, I keep wondering about Sir Henry’s motivations for corrupting Dorian. I suppose it is possible that he truly believed his on pseudo philosophical ramblings about morality and hedonism – but, for some reason, I always think that he did not. His whole character just feels as much a façade as his ideas seem colorful but empty within (just like chapter 11, where they eventually lead Dorian).
Then, also, maybe Henry does not need a motivation for his actions, as he kind of seems to represent a sort of a devil-esque temptation-giver in the novel. An older, world-wise man, who seems to have an almost supernatural understanding of human behavior and its consequences. Who can say just the right words to tempt Dorian, predict that Dorian would never marry Sibyl, who seems to follow all of this from afar with an almost malevolent amusement after setting it in movement. Perhaps I’m reading way too much into it – but that’s what I kept thinking about in relation to his character.
Makes me wonder what I should be thinking about the portrayal and role of Sir Henry’s wife – but maybe she is just there to give some other sort of commentary, and I shouldn’t let the devil allegory color everything about Henry. (Though I’m sure I could write an English Essay about it.)
At the beginning of the novel, I even sort of expected Henry to literally strike a deal with Dorian or cast a ritual or spell or something, cursing the portrait. But no, all of that sort of just… happened for some reason. But I think you can sort of still draw a parallel between Dorian becoming Henry’s “disciple” and this magical thing happening in his life.
Balancing between a fairy tale and a serious novel:
Other random details that I rather enjoyed about this book were some of the nods to the wider world, which were alluded to but not really explored much. Made it much more serious than I initially expected. Like the expansion to Sibyl’s mother’s POV, or the backstory of Dorians parents Sometimes these parts felt a little superfluous but, then, without them I feel that the novel would’ve felt a lot more like some sort of cautionary fairy tale with just a bare bones background. These little nodes of the world did really ground it more to reality and angst.
Although sometimes I felt like the book missed the mark a little trying achieve a more serious tone. It wasn’t really convincing to me when Wilde just sort of summarized Dorian’s depravity years later in chapters 11 and 12 – but I did really get a good idea of his ruthlessness through his conversations with Alan Campbell, the body-dissolving scientist. We never find out, what Dorian and he did together in the past, or what Dorian wrote on the paper to blackmail the guy with – but obviously it must’ve been really bad for Campbell to unalive himself over it (and the corpse disposal?) later on.
Gosh, if it isn’t a very powerful choice to keep that a secret though. One of those places where, I think, the readers own imagination is bound to come up with just the right amount of horrific and malevolent. Sometimes in books such as this when they really detail the actual reasoning for people’s actions, I feel that the characters act overly dramatically (for the situation) and can’t really emphasize with them. Speaking of which…
Sibyl, the tragic heroine:
Not to downplay her anguish or anything. Maybe it’s just the distance in time and culture but cannot understand hurting yourself over Dorian like Sibyl. Their few weeks old fresh romance does not seem like convincing reason for suicide, but then, we do not know all that happened in the relationship. Mayhaps something more took place there? A lady’s virtue was certainly more important in terms of her future. She could’ve had other mental health troubles before? But in terms of Dorian’s story, he did not know, and neither do we.
Then, I don’t know if Sibyl’s faith is supposed to across as realistic in the first place. As an actress, she is constantly compared to these Shakespearen tragic figures, who die these dramatic, unnecessary deaths – so it would make sense for her to be inspired by that (even to suicide) or to purposefully mirror that in the book. Like Blecky and I spoke earlier, her whole life is a little play-like. The romance between Sibyl and Dorian is very fast and overindulgent to a slightly ridiculous and fake degree (kind of like Romeo and Juliet or Hamlet and Ophelia I feel).
Dorian, too, afterwards treats Sibyl like an enjoyable yet tragic play, something that was scarring but entertaining. Something that becomes a little more than a footnote or a play he watched in his youth. Easier for him to think of it that way to protect his ego.
Your face reflects what you’re like inside:
Obviously, the portrait changing is the main idea behind this novel. When I construed reading this tho, I only really expected the portrait to grow older and not so much uglier. It’s not surprising exactly that there are several instances where portrait grows more “cruel” looking after Dorion does bad things as if “cruel” was a physical characteristic. Now usually, I have complicated thoughts about this mentality of “good people are beautiful” and “bad people are ugly”.
But I think the portrait in this book is at least partially depicting, not how Dorian would’ve turned out looking without it, but how he views himself unconsciously. If it weren’t for Basil being able to see the portrait also, I would’ve actually thought that all the changes to the painting might’ve been imaginary. Then, of course for Dorian to stay young in this universe, there does need to be actual magic – but clearly it’s tied into Dorian’s inner beliefs strongly.
I also wanted to say something about how much Dorian vs. Henry is to blame for Dorian’s actions. At what point Henry’s interference does not matter anymore, and it’s all just Dorian. Nature versus nurture. But I really don’t have steam for writing any more
Other questions you might want to explore (which I stole off internet):
- What is the nature of friendship in the book? Consider specifically Basil, Lord Henry, and Dorian as they relate to each other.
- What does the novel reveal about racial and class prejudice in Wilde's era?
- Is Lord Henry's belief in the freedom of the individual truly evil? Or does Dorian misconstrue it? Does Lord Henry actually practice the ideas he espouses? Does he understand the real life consequences his ideas would have, or does he exhibit a sort of naivete?
- Dorian's scandalous behavior shocks his peers, yet he remains welcome in social circles? Why? What is Wilde suggesting about "polite" London society?
- Discuss the ending: what does it mean?
The future of the Antitheocra Book Club is a little unclear at this moment. I find it a little hard to run when I don’t have a good idea of how much interest there really is. Ideally, I’d like to be done with Dorian, get some new people on board, and continue on with a new project. This has been quite fun (if a little inconsistent) and I'd hate to just give up on it!
If anyone is at all interested in taking over the reigns (the reminders, the scheduling, book picking), let me know!
