The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde
Dec
'07
When I first started this book, I remember telling Richard that it seemed like every sentence was meant to be a quote. Every word, it seemed, was carefully chosen so as to leave the impression that every thought in the book was quote-worthy and brilliant, and expected to be found at the beginning of memoirs and on gravestones, and more notably in Livejournal userinfos. It’s not appealing.
However, I was engrossed into it so much that distraction didn’t exist. It wasn’t one of those couldn’t-put-it-down books, but whenever I did pick it up the chapter breaks came only at appropriate moments and until those moments, I was so into the book that there was no hope of retrieval. Until, of course, I reached the point where Dorian has discovered his soul in the portrait, and things seemed to find themselves glossed over. It reminded me a lot of everything I don’t like about my own writing. The first half (or less) follows the characters, their personalities and developments, their motivations, inspirations, influences, and thoughts. Suddenly, then, the story is plot-driven and the author has to throw in some filler to keep things going. I don’t like this filler. I found myself reading more about the jewels, linens and perfumes of other lives than the more quotable thoughts of Lord Henry.
Yes, as unappealing as the constant “brilliance” in the first half, I much preferred it to the loss-of-interest I experienced in the middle. I believe it was Lord Henry who gave Dorian the book about which he said, “I didn’t say I liked it. I said it fascinated me. There is a great difference.” Yes, there is a great difference and I feel the same about this book. How strange that the portrait reveals Dorian Gray’s soul, and at the same time, Dorian Gray’s words revealed my own feelings towards his book.
In any case, before the break in flow, I enjoyed the structure of the book, the language, and the idea. I’d have like to have seen it brought up more subtly and to have read about the mentioned “rumors” and what Dorian’s actions actually did to the portrait, rather than just reading that there were, in fact, rumors, and that the portrait changed somehow because of them. I liked the 5-page telling of a single crooked, cruel smile and all it did to Dorian emotionally. I would have liked to read Dorian’s comparisons - his own face to those whom he saw regularly. Surely such a vein person would find himself thinking of how wrinkly and yellow Lord Henry was turning while he looked just the same after twenty years.
Yet when the pace I enjoyed returned I couldn’t stop reading. It was unlike the first bit where I was completely enamored with the book but was able to use the chapter breaks as a way to escape; rather, I really couldn’t put it down. I’d say to myself, “as soon as I finish this chapter, I will go to bed,” but then I would find myself reading three chapters and letting my eyes droop far more often than I should have.
I could make in this entry some thoughts about the symbolism, what I think Dorian Gray’s particular influence was on the people whom he destroyed, what the ending meant for his soul and his “deal,” and how it could have ever been possible, but as enchanting as the writing style was for this book, it hasn’t made me think. Yes, there is a lot I could be thinking about, but I’d much rather move on to my next book than to sit and think about this one. I am not sure I’ve ever read a book which was so fascinating to me but which I couldn’t wait to finish. I suppose, like Dorian, I learned the difference between fascination and liking through a book; however, this one will far from “destroy” me. I plan on reading the shorter tales which are attached to my edition of the book but I don’t think Oscar Wilde will become a favorite author. He’s far too quotable for that.
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