Librarian Note: An older cover for this edition can be found here: 05-Jul-1999.
De Profundis is Wilde's eloquent and bitter reproach from prison to his lover, Lord Alfred Douglas. He contrasts his behaviour with that of his close friend Robert Ross who became Wilde's literary executor. The Ballad of Reading Gaol is a deeply moving and characteristically generous poem on the horrors of prison life, which was published anonymously in 1898. This collection also includes the essay The Soul of Man under Socialism and two of his Platonic dialogues, The Decay of Lying and The Critic as Artist.
Oscar Fingal O'Fflahertie Wills Wilde was an Irish poet and playwright. After writing in different forms throughout the 1880s, he became one of the most popular playwrights in London in the early 1890s. He is best remembered for his epigrams and plays, his novel The Picture of Dorian Gray, and his criminal conviction for gross indecency for homosexual acts. Wilde's parents were Anglo-Irish intellectuals in Dublin. In his youth, Wilde learned to speak fluent French and German. At university, he read Greats; he demonstrated himself to be an exceptional classicist, first at Trinity College Dublin, then at Magdalen College, Oxford. He became associated with the emerging philosophy of aestheticism, led by two of his tutors, Walter Pater and John Ruskin. After university, Wilde moved to London into fashionable cultural and social circles. Wilde tried his hand at various literary activities: he wrote a play, published a book of poems, lectured in the United States and Canada on "The English Renaissance" in art and interior decoration, and then returned to London where he lectured on his American travels and wrote reviews for various periodicals. Known for his biting wit, flamboyant dress and glittering conversational skill, Wilde became one of the best-known personalities of his day. At the turn of the 1890s, he refined his ideas about the supremacy of art in a series of dialogues and essays, and incorporated themes of decadence, duplicity, and beauty into what would be his only novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray (1890). Wilde returned to drama, writing Salome (1891) in French while in Paris, but it was refused a licence for England due to an absolute prohibition on the portrayal of Biblical subjects on the English stage. Undiscouraged, Wilde produced four society comedies in the early 1890s, which made him one of the most successful playwrights of late-Victorian London. At the height of his fame and success, while An Ideal Husband (1895) and The Importance of Being Earnest (1895) were still being performed in London, Wilde issued a civil writ against John Sholto Douglas, the 9th Marquess of Queensberry for criminal libel. The Marquess was the father of Wilde's lover, Lord Alfred Douglas. The libel hearings unearthed evidence that caused Wilde to drop his charges and led to his own arrest and criminal prosecution for gross indecency with other males. The jury was unable to reach a verdict and so a retrial was ordered. In the second trial Wilde was convicted and sentenced to two years' hard labour, the maximum penalty, and was jailed from 1895 to 1897. During his last year in prison he wrote De Profundis (published posthumously in abridged form in 1905), a long letter that discusses his spiritual journey through his trials and is a dark counterpoint to his earlier philosophy of pleasure. On the day of his release, he caught the overnight steamer to France, never to return to Britain or Ireland. In France and Italy, he wrote his last work, The Ballad of Reading Gaol (1898), a long poem commemorating the harsh rhythms of prison life.
I have always felt, that Oscar Wilde's prose and poetry belong to Lewis Carroll's Wonderland. Truth is, Wilde himself is a being of Wonderland, and he should have been so. He didn't belong to this side. De Profundis is Oscar Wilde at his naked-est. And, the nakedness of such a personality is nothing less than a miracle. You've writhed in anticipation of his being, of his enigma for so long, and when it does reveal to you, you are struck as if by a thunderbolt. Can the words- melancholy, pain, sorrow, anguish, even hell convey the plight of this man? No! But the brutal honesty of this book does. In his disaster, Wilde rediscovered himself and in this process, he was reborn.
His words are extraordinarily potent, but they too lose significance as a whole, when it becomes all about an unbelievable experience, where Wilde exhales moonlight into this engulfing darkness. Under all the oppression of his surroundings, he still runs wild.
Ian reminded me of this brilliant book today when he made a reference to Wilde's writings. "De Profundis" is exquisite and it's worth acquiring the book purely for that.
When I lived in Aix-en-Provence in 1992 for a year, I purchased Gabriel Matzneff's book of "Le Portrait de Dorian Gray, Nouvelles fantastiques, Contes, De profundis, Quelques cruautés de la vie de prison" but I cannot find this on Goodreads for some obscure reason even though there are other books by him.
My French was really awful at the time, my spoken French that is. My grammar wasn't up to scratch (even now I make dreadful errors to my shame) but looking at this book now, the French translation that is, I actually prefer it to this one. Bizarre...
Esta carta should be read at graduations, at weddings and at funerals. Las palabras de Wilde en el peor momento de su vida, despreciado por todo y por todos, y reprochando a su amante la ruina en la que le ha sumido, son incisivas e irónicas, desgranando párrafo a párrafo cada defecto del carácter de Lord Alfred Douglas y cómo su relación con él estaba maldita desde el principio.
"What was there, as a mere matter of fact, in you that I could influence? Your brain? It was undeveloped. Your imagination? It was dead. Your heart? It was not yet born."
Pero sobre todo, es profundamente triste. Las lágrimas de quien en su día fue admirado por todos, de quien fuera traicionado por la persona que más amaba, las lágrimas de la tristeza infinita. Y sólo Oscar Wilde podría haber plasmado esa tristeza de manera tan bella en una carta que más bien es un epitafio. Wilde will always be the moment.
"I cannot reconstruct my letter, or rewrite it. You must take it as it stands, blotted in many places with tears, in some with the signs of passion or pain, and make it out as best as you can, blots, corrections and all."
What a thing to be reading during a lockdown. I read most of this on my birthday yesterday, and comforted myself greatly by repeating 'With freedom, books, flowers and the moon, who could not be happy?'
It's simply a remarkable document to have written in such a place, at such a time, in such a disjointed fashion. Undoubtedly some editing was done afterwards to make it flow more smoothly, but even so it's possible to trace the distillation of Wilde's deep bitterness into a state of semi-divine grace. The only question, really, is why with such clear-sightedness regarding Bosie's failings, he bothered to write to him at all. Maybe it was never intended to reach him; maybe it was just a way of sucking the poison out of his own skin.
"One half-hour with Art was always more to me than a cycle with you. Nothing really at any period of my life was ever of the smallest importance to me compared with Art. But in the case of an artist, weakness is nothing less than a crime, when it is a weakness that paralyses the imagination."
It's true that for the world, the balance was tipped in favour of Wilde's work.
"Ultimately the bond of all companionship, whether in marriage or in friendship, is conversation, and conversation must have a common basis, and between two people of widely different culture the only common basis possible is the lowest level."
Harsh but true.
"Hate granted you every single thing you wished for. It was an indulgent master to you. It is so, indeed, to all who serve it."
Oof.
"But Love does not traffic in the marketplace, nor use a huckster's scales. Its joy, like the joy of the intellect, is to feel itself alive. [...] For my own sake there was nothing for me to do but love you. I knew, if I allowed myself to hate you, that in the dry desert of existence over which I had to travel, and am travelling still, every rock would lose its shadow, every palm tree be withered, every well of water poisoned at its source."
A stunning explanation.
The Creed:
"But while I see that there is nothing wrong in what one does, I see that there is something wrong in what one becomes."
"My gods dwell in temples made with hands; and within the circle of actual experience is my creed made perfect and complete; too complete, it may be, for like many or all who have placed their heaven in this earth, I have found in it not merely the beauty, but the horror of hell also."
"[...] for the Soul has its nutritive functions also, and can transform into noble moods of thought, and passions of high import, what in itself is base, cruel and degrading; nay more, may find in these its most august modes of assertion, and can often reveal itself most perfectly through what was intended to desecrate and destroy."
Shades of Marcus Aurelius...
"There is still something to me almost incredible in the idea of a young Galilean peasant imagining that he could bear on his own shoulders the burden of the entire world: all that had already been done and suffered, and all that was yet to be done and suffered: the sins of Nero, of Caesar Borgia, of Alexander IV, and of him who was the Emperor of Rome and Priest of the Sun: the sufferings of those whose name is Legion and whose dwelling is among the tombs, oppressed nationalities, factory children, thieves, people in prison, those who are dumb under oppression and whose silence is heard only of God"
When you put it like that: yes.
"I saw then that the only thing for me was to accept everything. Since then - curious as it will no doubt seem to you - I have been happier."
MA again.
THE BALLAD OF READING GAOL
"He did not wring his hands, as do Those witless men who dare To try to rear the changeling Hope In the cave of black Despair:"
"For he who lives more lives than one More deaths than one must die."
THE DECAY OF LYING
"Life and nature may sometimes be used as part of art's rough material, but before they are of any real service to art they must be translated into artistic conventions. The moment art surrenders its imaginative medium it surrenders everything."
Obviously Wilde was being Wilde, which is to say deliberately provocative, by using the word 'Lying', when what he meant was 'Imagination'. However, otherwise from that I support the premise entirely.
THE CRITIC AS ARTIST
"I dislike modern memoirs. They are generally written by people who have either entirely lost their memories, or have never done anything worth remembering; which, however, is, no doubt, the true explanation of their popularity, as the English public always feels perfectly at its ease when a mediocrity is talking to it."
AS THEN, SO NOW.
"To give an accurate description of what has never occurred is not merely the proper occupation of the historian, but the inalienable privilege of any man of parts and culture."
This made me think of Hilary Mantel (I am slowly working my way through 'The Mirror and the Light', because I'm afraid of the ending) and also Baz Luhrmann. I watched 'Strictly Ballroom' as a birthday treat and remembered LOVING the dresses as a child. No one dresses like that now; likely, no one dressed like that then; the point was that it's a somewhat parodic, entirely comedic portrayal of early 90s fashion. Now the 90s are nearly three decades in the past, and the only record we have is 'Strictly Ballroom', so it's become more true than the truth.
"[...] the beauty, that gives to creation its universal and aesthetic element, makes the critic a creator in his turn, and whispers of a thousand different things which were not present in the mind of him who carved the statue or painted the panel or graved the gem."
So. True.
"[...] whereas it is only such theories that have any true intellectual value. An idea that is not dangerous is unworthy of being called an idea at all."
Also this.
"I regret it because there is much to be said in favour of modern journalism. By giving us the opinions of the uneducated, it keeps us in touch with the ignorance of the community. By carefully chronicling current events of contemporary life, it shows us of what very little importance such events really are. By invariably discussing the unnecessary, it makes us understand what things are requisite for culture, and what are not."
Sick burn.
"But a truly great artist cannot conceive of life being shown, or beauty fashioned, under any conditions other than those that he has selected."
Can definitely buy that.
THE SOUL OF THE MAN UNDER SOCIALISM
"[...] but the best amongst the poor are never grateful. They are ungrateful, discontented, disobedient and rebellious. They are quite right to be so. Charity they feel to be a ridiculously inadequate mode of partial restitution, or a sentimental dole, usually accompanied by some impertinent attempt on the part of the sentimentalist to tyrannise over their private lives. [...] Disobedience, in the eyes of anyone who has read history, is man's original virtue. It is through disobedience that progress has been made, through disobedience and through rebellion."
Yup.
"With the abolition of private property, we shall have true, beautiful, healthy individualism. Nobody will waste his life in accumulating things and the symbols for things. One will life. To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all."
Definitely a time in the world when people may be realising this...
"But it must be remembered that while sympathy with joy increases the sum of joy in the world, sympathy with pain does not really diminish the amount of pain."
A truly edifying volume on many, many levels. LOVE.
De Profundis is that rare gem in literature, meaning many things to both the reader and author..the extraordinary conditions under which it was written..the rebuke to a lover and friend...a deep exploration of love, art, the role of religion..a solemn hymn to despair itself..intensely private but universal in scope..and ultimately finding forgiveness to be the greatest release. It's not just Wilde's greatest work, it's one of the most important discussions on what it means to be human, and humane, ever written.
"I am completely penniless, and absolutely homeless. Yet there are worse things in the world than that”
The Ballad of Reading Gaol is one of the seminal pieces of poetry and perhaps one of Wilde's masterpieces, telling the 'true' story of CTW and his journey towards the gallows. Wilde has surprisingly modern opinions when one considers he was writing this poem in 1896. He suggests that we should all share in the guilt of a condemned person as it could be any of us in a bad moment. The ballad itself is definitely worth a read. There is also plenty of space for annotations if you are using this book for academic purposes.
“Yet each man kills the thing he loves By each let this be heard Some do it with a bitter look Some with a flattering word The coward does it with a kiss The brave man with a sword”
Moving. Erudite. An essential read for all who seek to understand the complexity of sorrow and a possible path to acceptance and peace.
De Profundis: 5 stars It was too raw, one of the hardest things i had to read, it isn't much fun reading about one of your literary heroes, chronicling his downfall in such a private manner, all emotions bared and being in the muck after being thrown from the pedestal by the same people he was put there by.
Reading Goal: 5 stars Beautiful.
The decay of lying: 5 stars Wilde sure loved to be contrary
The Ballad of Gaol has to be one of the most profound pieces I've ever read. 5 stars is not enough. This poem had a weight to it that I've only ever seen with Maya Angelou. The craft of writing about sorrow to where it doesn't evoke feelings of sadness but instead feels powerful, intentional and retrospective is a skill I haven't seen often. I absolutely recommend. I don't often like being read to but I think this is one you should first read on your own and then listen to... close your eyes and see his words, they're breathtaking.
It took me more than a month to finish this book. Because of the compelling themes I had to reread some sections a couple of times. I don't still think I'm done with this book since it has so many fairly-new ideas to digest. Oh but what a read it was! I don't only love how well the book was written but I also love all the "deep" explanations of the concepts of everyday life in the specific writings De Profundis, The Decay of Lying and The Critic as Artist. There is simply nothing in "The Soul of Man Under Socialism" that I disagree with the author. I couldn't help myself underlining every great detail that I'm in the opinion of. This book contains so much to learn and contemplate about. It is really an eye-opener. Literally and literarily a piece of outstanding art.
I always love Oscar Wilde, and the Ballad of Reading Gaol is among my favorites. De Profundis is another animal, though of the same pain. Its blatant honesty crosses an array of emotions and observations and changes experienced by the author. This book introduces us to friends and enemies alike, who surrounded Oscar before, during, and after his arrest. I’d always heard the “nicer” story of his offense, but here we have “the rest of the story”. From the highest of self appreciation and conceit and raucous living in luxury, to the depths from which he exposes himself and others, I was fascinated. This book demonstrated the growth of soul he had experienced when, two years later, he was empathetic for someone other than himself.
A book of raw honesty by a person I deeply admire. Although Oscar Wilde is a great author, his personhood captures me.
“For what man has sought for is, indeed, neither pain nor pleasure, but simply life. Man has sought to live intensely, fully, perfectly.” I thoroughly enjoyed each of the contents of this book. De Profundis reflects Wilde’s beautifully agonising revelations while living in prison. As the name suggests, from the depths of suffering and sorrow, Wilde emerges out to see the world as is and to assert the fact repeatedly mentioned in the letter; whatever is realised is right. The other writings are full of rich aphorisms, lengthy conversations on art, criticism, individualism and philosophy are indeed full of wit and intelligence. I particularly enjoyed the essay ‘The Critic as Artist’ containing the most extensive statements of his aesthetic philosophy. The entire book is a revelatory experience, utterly important and influential in every century.
"The evolution of man is slow. The injustice of man is great."
Overall, this was a very interesting look into the mind of Oscar Wilde and have a good collection of different works from throughout his career.
De Profundis This was by far my favourite part of the collection and the reason why I picked it up in the first place. I also like to think of this as 'The Roast of Bosie', but then Wilde shows a lot of empathy towards Bosie and forgives him. The religious part of the letter wasn't very interesting to me, but it offered a lot of context to the times in general and Wilde's attitude.
The Ballad of Reading Gaol I am am not a poetry person, so this did not do much for me. However, as can be expected, it is beautifully written and gives us an image of what being in prison (back then) was/is like.
The Decay of Lying This was very interesting to read and in a time filled with misinformation, some of Wilde's takes are accurate and others really suit the late 1800s. Taking some of the arguments proposed, Trump would be seen as a great artist.
The Critic as Artist I found this very interesting to read. Though I am not sure if the dialogue format worked. Especially because Gilbert went on page long rants and monologues while Ernest only served as a short counter argument or short question for Gilbert to continue talking at Ernest.
The Soul of Man under Socialism While reading the first part Wilde almost lost me. Partially because of the language used and the subject. I also think the privilege Wilde had becomes blatantly clear. But the Utopia he describes and the goal people 'should' work towards sounds pretty nice and has some valid points.
This collection started with my favourite piece and ended with my least favourite, but was very worth the read!
Wow. I absolutely loved it. A really nice human recommended it to me and I love her for it because this was one of my favorite things to read in... a long, long, long time. What an incredible read! Think I lost my words somewhere between him throwing shade. I am sure I‘m going to be thinking about this one for a very, very long time. I can’t even comprehend how incredible it was.
1. De Profundis: 3 - enjoyed the beginning when he was discussing his relationship with Lord Alfred Douglas. Interesting reading from Wilde's perspective of what led up to his charges, court case, and imprisonment. Some of his complaints with Lord Alfred were p-e-t-t-y, and I loved it. Textbook toxic relationship on both sides!
But, he lost me in the latter 2/3sish of the letter, where he began talking about his art, and his philosophy of art, and how Lord Alfred never understood his art because he's a basic bitch. Then it got really overdone when he started talking about religion and portraying himself as a betrayed Christ-figure. Yes, that's right, folks. Wilde viewed himself as essentially a martyr for the gays and artists. Can't say that's an entirely inaccurate view, seeing as he was a public figure and had such a public downfall. He heavily focuses on religion and philosophy in the second half of the letter, and not that these topics are uninteresting - I mean, I like reading Wilde's philosophy, it's what makes "Dorian Gray" so enjoyable - but it just seemed out of place in this letter. The earlier parts where he was talking smack about Lord Alfred's artistic abilities was fun, but again, it became very abstract and overdone the longer the letter went.
I am glad I read this. We get a first-hand glimpse into his mental state near the end of his 2-year prison sentence, and how he viewed his relationship to Lord Alfred and his writing, and how these were both impacted by his imprisonment. He lost everything, his wife, children, money, and resorted to selling most of his prized possessions, including books!, to pay for the court fees. He lost the copyright to all of his works. The background of his writing process for "Dorian Gray" is fascinating alone, but to add the context of this letter after the fact makes it even better appreciated.
2. The Ballad of Reading Gaol: 3 - First time reading Wilde's poetry. This is inspired by his time in prison.
3. The Decay of Lying: 3 - Many of Wilde's famous quotes are in this. He is writing about how art imitates life, and referenced several popular authors, some contemporaries of his, others classic. He was NOT a fan of Henry James lol. And he has read my famous Russian authors, so I like him even more now that I know this. (I knew he was inspired by Poe, who also inspired Dost., but didn't know Dost. inspired Wilde)! I actually like Zola, or at least the one short story I've read by him, so was surprised to see that Wilde didn't think much of him:
~"Mr Henry James writes fiction as if it were a painful duty." ~ "M. Zola...is determined to show that, if he has not got genius, he can at least be dull..." ~"I quite admit that modern novels have many good points...as a class, they are unreadable....If one cannot enjoy reading a book over and over again, there is no use in reading it at all." ~"The Nihilist...was invented by Turgenev, and completed by Dostoevsky."
4. The Critic as Artist: 2 - And more of Wilde's famous quotes are in this. ~"In the best days of art there was no art-criticism." ~"Education is an admirable thing, but it is well to remember from time to time that nothing that is worth knowing can be taught." Had to DNF, though. Most of the discussion is going over my head, and I'm not interested in it.
5. The Soul of Man Under Socialism: 3 - Interesting argument. Don't agree with most of it and a lot has some fallacies, but fascinating nonetheless. ~"The majority of people spoil their lives by an unhealthy and exaggerated altruism . . ." ~"He is merely the . . . atom of a force that . . . crushes him: indeed prefers him crushed, as in that case he is far more obedient." ~"Sometimes the poor are praised for being thrifty. But to recommend thrift to the poor is both grotesque and insulting. It is like advising a man who is starving to eat less . . . Man should not be ready to show that he can live like a badly fed animal." ~"The possession of private property is very often extremely demoralising, and that is of course one of the reasons why Socialism wants to get rid of the institution . . . property is really a nuisance." ~"Why should [the poor] be grateful for the crumbs that fall from the rich man's table? They should be seated at the board, and are beginning to know it." ~"the recognition of private property has really harmed individualism . . . confusing a man with what he possesses . . . So that man thought the important thing was to have, and did not know the important thing is to be." ~"Socialism annihilates family life . . . With the abolition of private property, marriage in its present form must disappear." ~"High hopes were once formed of democracy; but democracy means . . . the bludgeoning of the people by the people for the people." ~"all authority is quite degrading." Interesting that Wilde argues that physical, menial labor, like clearing snow, should be done by machines instead of people. Oh, if he only knew... Then he moves on to discussing art, as he always must. Oh Wilde...
I think I can finally say I've read everything by Wilde, minus all of his poetry.
Not quite as profound as the author intended it to be, but very touching nonetheless. A heartfelt and beautifully written account of how a man loses everything and in the nothing of despair, finds God and finds himself.
De profundis specifically: Wow. Dreadfully boring and lengthy at times, but when it hits, it hits hard. Incredible letter showing harsh, raw and true emotions. Definitely recommend reading it.
A remarkable collection of Wilde's most important non-fiction works, reflecting his philosophy and aesthetic principles. De Profundis, The Critic as Artists stood out for me as deeply philosophical.
The writings and life of Oscar Wilde live under the shadow of his unhappy fate. Much of his work is humorous and sparkling, but we know that everything ended badly for him with disgrace, prison and an early death. The very qualities people liked in Oscar Wilde were the ones that brought about his downfall.
His camp wit pleased people in his plays and when they listened to his conversations, but they were less happy to learn about his homosexuality. The man who made a philosophy out of hedonism and pleasure was undone by his lifestyle which shocked the public. The original and unusual thinking that made Wilde so stimulating was made possible by his role as an outsider and a transgressor of the moral laws of the time.
This selection of Wilde’s work contains writings that Wilde produced before, during and after his time in prison. While he is known mostly for his plays, Wilde also wrote children's stories, poetry and essays. In this selection, we have mostly essays and Wilde’s most famous poem.
De Profundis gets its name at the top of the book, and is the first work here. Written during Wilde’s time in prison, it is one of his darker works. Wilde wrote it as a letter to his former lover, Lord Alfred Douglas. I suspect that this version has been abridged, as I see little of the indictment against Douglas that the back cover promises.
What we have is a curious work, in which Wilde seemingly renounces his entire hedonistic lifestyle and offers a mea culpa of his crimes, admitting his guilt. Wilde is closer here to Dostoevsky (another writer who spent time in a harsh prison) than at any other time in his life. Usually the two men are opposites, with Dostoevsky believing that redemption comes from suffering, while Wilde thinks it comes from pleasure.
Yet here Wilde extols the virtue of suffering. Has he experienced a complete volte-face? Perhaps, but people often hold onto the same attitudes they always held, but in different forms. Wilde’s indulgence in his suffering is just another form of hedonism, but directed at sadder feelings rather than pleasurable ones. Similarly, while he acknowledges that he deserves to be in prison, I am not sure that Wilde sincerely thinks that he has done something wrong, other than being too self-indulgent.
A large part of the work, the least interesting part, is dedicated to an examination of Jesus Christ. Wilde is not much of a Christian. He appears to be an agnostic. Nonetheless, he admires the life of Jesus as outlined in the Gospels.
My impression is that the story of Jesus appeals to Wilde on an aesthetic level. He likes the poetry of the story of a good man who suffered unfairly, perhaps identifying with Christ. I am not sure that the Jesus of the Bible is really the person that Wilde makes him out to be, but as Wilde makes clear in The Critic as Artist, it hardly matters what the original text says. What matters is the artistic meaning added to it by the critic, in this case Wilde.
Overall, De Profundis is an interesting, but flawed work. Wilde wrote it a page at a time, and was not allowed to see the whole work until his release, after which he never edited it, so we can make some allowance for its weaknesses.
I bought this book because I have always wanted to read Wilde’s most famous poem, The Ballad of Reading Gaol. All I knew of it was the following oft-quoted passage:
“Yet each man kills the thing he loves, By each let this be heard, Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word, The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword!”
How I made it through 53 years of my life without reading a poem I always wanted to read is a mystery I cannot explain. Let us say it was worth the wait, and this is the most enjoyable work in this book.
Again, we have a work from Wilde that comes from his prison years. The idea of killing what you love need not refer to an actual murder, as the extract makes clear. It could be killing the love in another person. As this is a prison poem, there is real killing involved as well. Wilde describes the execution of a prisoner. Along the way he talks about the iniquities and misery of prison life, and the unfairness of state murder. Prison is a brutalising experience.
Although Wilde sneered at the idea of writing for popular appeal, a surprising opinion for a man who made his living from witty comedies, he certainly hoped for some commercial success from The Ballad of Reading Gaol. I am happy to say that this poem did bring Wilde a small additional income during his later years of bankruptcy and struggle, and deservedly so.
The remaining works here are from before Wilde’s prison days, and seem ironic in the light of De Profundis, as they belong to Wilde’s days as a pleasure-loving aesthete. The Decay of Lying is an essay about art. Directly or indirectly, all the essays here are about art.
We see here Wilde as the bon viveur and great talker. The dialogue between two men allows him to dramatize a discussion about art, in which he impishly suggests that art is better than nature, and that a sunset merely resembles a bad painting by Turner with all his worst faults exaggerated.
Wilde was not the man to take to the countryside with you. He would rather sit at a dinner table in the city discussing the inferiority of nature. The leading messages are that art expresses only itself, and not reality. If anything reality imitates art. Art is therefore the telling of beautiful lies, mere art and not realism.
Such views are far too prescriptive. Great art can arise from realism. Still, I understand the basic idea that the greatness of art does not lie in its subject matter or its reproduction of reality. It lies in the creativity of the artist.
Next follows The Critic as Artist. As I mentioned, the central idea here is that criticism is itself a form of art. We all are critics, and a good critic can offer a reinterpretation of a classic, giving it new meaning. We know this is true when pianists interpret composers, and actors reinterpret Hamlet.
Wilde would possibly have been enthusiastic about the notion of the death of the author put about by literary critics. He would like the idea that a book is what we say it is, and not what the author originally said. I personally find this idea arrogant. I do believe we should bring our own perspective to everything we read and relate it to what is going on today, but I still think we should respect the author’s original intentions, and not pretend that the book is expressing the opinions that we think it should have.
This was my least favourite work in the selection. It is very long, and somewhat over-written, making it a little dull. I appreciate Wilde’s attempts to live his principles by writing in a literary manner, but here the style is too high-flown.
Lastly, the book concludes with another essay, The Soul of Man Under Socialism. Wilde is an unlikely person to embrace socialism, and indeed he is the most right-wing socialist we are likely to see. He has no great respect for philanthropy, do-gooder, altruism, or even the working man. Admittedly we can say the same about many socialists.
Wilde would probably be happier with modern libertarianism. He likes the idea of socialism because he thinks that this system would free humans from hard work and authoritarian control, allowing the artist more freedom of self-expression. No surprise to find that Wilde really only cares about the artist, rather than the common man.
As we can see it is not the authoritarian brand of socialism that Wilde likes. He does not like the state much at all. Instead he thinks that individualism would flourish under socialism. Wilde is not interested in making the lives of others better, and only likes socialism because it would make his own life better. Unsurprisingly, he does not have any suggestions of how we can become a socialist state.
Wilde’s work is not likely to be remembered as a landmark in socialist politics, although some left-wing writers have referred to it. It is at least an interesting oddity in his career, and his ideas are suitably provocative and readable.
Overall, this selection is a mixed bag, but with no works that are terrible or unreadable. Wilde has a pleasant style, but like all people who generalise, he is at risk that readers will frequently reject his sweeping statements. You might want to reject the generalisation that I put in the last sentence.
It is curious that Wilde speaks so much about genius in art, and yet his works are not considered among the greatest works of literature. They are artistically pleasing, but Wilde is not in the league of, for example, Charles Dickens or George Eliot, two writers he despises.
Perhaps the problem is that his thinking is entirely inward. He makes a virtue of self-absorption, and imagines that great art can only come from this. Sometimes it can. Often the greatest art is that which is more human and compassionate. The artist need not be giving and loving to humanity, but s/he is often more appealing when s/he is.
I have been literally carrying this book with me around everywhere There were some nights i was so tired that i would fall asleep right as i lay down in my bed but still i felt like if i don’t have the book beside my head, there would be something missing. We actually met by coincidence on February 27th 2017 in Hanooz Publication’s store,in Teheran when i just had finished my final Architecture project for the Bachelor’s degree.
Since i get bored and distracted easily it took me two years or even more to finish this book. But he was patient enough to wait for me to come back to him meanwhile i was busy, reading other Individuals.
I have read some parts even more than two times and every time i felt like he is watching me and he is talking to me based on what is going on in my life and giving me advise or conclusions. So it turned out to my holy book somehow!!!!
A friend once told me a good reader would finish this book in just a few hours and i told him to me it is not about finishing a book at all, it is about getting every single word by your heart as if they are your own words, it is about living them so afterwards you will be a different person who is teaching them to other people. After all, humans are social; As he says.
His unique way of thinking, His unique way of approaching art and artistic life made me fall in love with him with each word...
The first and the major part of this book is the bitter reproach of Oscar, after two years of imprisonment, as a private letter from prison to his lover who was the main reason for him getting into jail. He accuses him of shallowness which he thinks is the supreme vice. The second part is his famous poem on the horrors of prison life. There are two dialogues where he puts his manifesto and ideas about art and the social role of the artist. And the last and the best part is where he sums up the whole ideas in one article “The Soul of Man under Socialism”, his most outspoken defense of anarchy and Individualism.
So i think i used every possible way i could to tell you that this guy was a Genius not only in his time but for all time... He is one of the greatest Individualists. “and The Individualism is the New Helenisim” as he thinks...
(De profundis: 4.25 stars) My thoughts about reading this were mostly: wow what an amazing prose this man has and also, who writes a letter with more than a 100 pages??? Im so sorry for the receiver of this letter haha. But nonetheless, Loved the sassy comments and philosophical discussions in De profundis. It's fascinating everything Oscar Wilde writes, and i had also an amazing time psychoanalyzing every single action of his and of his most beloved "friend". The thing is I would've liked it more if he didn't repeat himself with some of the topics throughout the letter (i had to take long pauses through the pages).
(The ballad of reading gaol: 4.5 stars !!!!!!) Amazing, show stopping, spectacular. Loved this ballad so much, the poetry on point and the quotes!!!! It was so interesting reading the portrayal of life in prison.
Although as marvelous in language as any of Wilde's fiction, De Profundis is 80 pages of passive-agressive (and at times overtly-agressive) whining to the man responsible for his imprisonment. Mixed into the 80 page tirade--perhaps the most venomous post-break-up letter ever--is a 30 page epiphany about the nature of art (Jesus was the first true Romantic), the importance of Sorrow, and a sense of coming to terms with life's misfortunes. However, Wilde's realizations and moments of forgiveness are so often contradiced by other passages that this struck me as more of a petulant epistle to expose the perfidy of his previous paramour than a passionate and poignant epiphany about the nature of life.
The Ballad of Reading Gaol, though, I still enjoy.
who allowed Oscar Wilde to write this book??? His prose is so beautifully crafted that it speaks to the soul in a language that is concerned with the exploration of deconstructing and understanding love, despair and beauty, in a moment of the author’s life where none seemed posible to exist. Furthermore, it dives into the artistic life with its rose tinted glass of aestheticism, with a lyrical ease that is characteristic of Wilde’s novels; it might even be my favorite piece of work he has written (And Dorian Gray ok).
de profundis is a letter that no lover or friend would want to receive. It reveals Wilde as a poet and a philosopher. A truely amazing and heart-felt read.