The picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

This book really fits with my neurosises. I am a bit too keen on aesthetics, and as such it felt… almost damning. I have found myself immensely invested in how people dress and hold themselves ever since I began this particular read, and not always in a very positive way. However, it has also had a somewhat impact in making me dress better, even when I have had less energy than usual. Is that the moral of the story? No way. I saw Dorian's mental and moral decline and it seems I went “well, it’s not like I have a painting in the attic”.

While it has been a couple of weeks since I read it, I did write down some of my favourite pages. On page 126-127 (of the penguin classics edition) there is mention of a “new hedonism”, which fascinates me. I have described myself as a hedonist many times, and though I am still far from a fully satisfactory description of what I believe that to entail it really does permeate my view of life. I read an article not too long ago about hedonism, or maybe epicureanism (I can’t find the article now), as an argument for vegetarianism, and while there is much to discuss about it the key elements, pleasure and lack of suffering as the key goal of life, is of much interest to me. I do also see a lot of similarity between the idea of “[...]teach[ing] man to concentrate himself upon the moments of a life that is itself but a moment.” and the baseline description of mindfulness.

Wilde goes on to describe the gothic horrors one sees in the world upon waking before dawn, and while it’s less to discuss I love this excerpt specifically:

“There are few of us who have not sometimes wakened before dawn, either after one of those dreamless nights that make us almost enamoured of death, or one of those nights of horror and misshapen joy, when through the chambers of the brain sweep phantoms more terrible than reality itself, and instinct with that vivid life that lurks in all grotesques, and that lends to Gothic art its enduring vitality, this art being, one might fancy, especially the art of those whose minds have been troubled with the malady of reverie.”

Aside from being a stark reminder that I am allowed to keep my sentences longer than I have grown accustomed to (that sentence alone is the length of a full paragraph in much of my schoolwork) I find that the description really resonates with me. I am struggling to really describe why, but at the very least it nudged me to buy two books by Gothic authors (to be written about).

The following pages really were filled to the brim with gorgeous descriptions of all kinds of things that normally would concern all senses, but somehow are made justice by words alone. Did I mention that I find Wilde’s writing to be absolutely mesmerising? My favourite part starts at the end of page 133: a description of fabrics from all around the world that makes the wannabe seamstress in me absolutely melt:

“And so, for a whole year, he sought to accumulate the most exquisite specimens that he could find of textile and embroidered work, getting the dainty Delhi muslins, finely wrought with gold-threaded palmates, and stitched over with iridescent beetles' wings; the Dacca gauzes, that from their transparency are known in the East as “woven air”, and “running water”, and “evening dew”; strange figured cloths from Java; elaborate yellow Chinese hangings; books bound in tawny satins or fair blue silks, and wrought with fleurs de lys, birds, and images; veils of lacis worked in Hungary point; Sicilian brocades, and stiff Spanish velvets; Georgian work with its gilt coins, and Japanese Foukousas with their green-toned golds and their marvellously-plumaged birds.”

Once again I struggle immensely with describing the way this part of the book makes me feel, but I am inclined to compare it to the way watching a movie made me feel like a kid. Being informed that something utterly spectacular exists, and having such a vivid image of the physical properties of it, yet being unable to interact with it. I think that, similarly to the process described in the book, it is the reason that I love to fill my life with beautiful and well-made things (I don’t believe fast fashion to be hedonism – if it is, it’s a saddening version); it lets me experience a hint of that feeling by just interacting with the world around me, and by thinking about the things I already have. If a thing does not give me a hint of that feeling when I interact with it for the first time, it is not a thing worth having.

My thoughts on hedonism will be given more attention in the future, but for the moment being I’ll conclude this little review-like thing. The picture of Dorian Gray is one of those classics I completely understand the longevity of. The way Wilde writes really resonates with me, and while I partially wish that the book was just page after page of his lovely descriptions, the underlying subject the book deals with is one I am deeply fascinated by and that I am happy to engage further with. The book also has had a practical impact on my life: ever since reading it I've found myself slightly more motivated to actually dress up for the day, and to make it easier for myself to live beautifully.