I will admit to never having read anything by Oscar Wilde before.1 Thus, I read, in succession, “Oscar Wilde: Great Short Works”; “The Collected Oscar Wilde”; and, “The Picture of Dorian Gray”. In light of his public reputation I was expecting writing that was flamboyant to the point of ludicrous and furiously railing against the status quo. I found none of the former and restraint but sometimes self-pitying in the latter. As you read Wilde, though, it becomes readily apparent that he was writing at a superb level.
His short stories are moral fables to the point of being fitting bedtime stories for children. This does not surprise me as he was later heartbroken at being permanently separated from his two children after being sent to prison. Much of his work, it must be admitted, is self-focused and drones on regarding the societal superiority of the literary or art critic (of which he certainly was both). Undoubtedly he suffered in jail, but the amount of self-pity about how inappropriate jail was for someone of his intellectual superiority can be a bit much. (Much like Alan Turing, Wilde can be said to have brought the antiquated English justice system down upon himself, against the advice of friends.) In two of his most famous works one could argue that he has placed himself in the role of a key character: in “The Importance of Being Earnest” you could say he is Algernon; and in “The Picture of Dorian Gray” he is represented by Lord Henry. These characters provide important insights into much of his thought. They follow the form of social convention, but do not at all believe in its substance.
To me, this is Wilde at his most important. He thinks differently, he is his own person when he could simply have lived a life of English privilege. Arguably, he did live such a life all the while arguing for a different perspective on things. Perhaps this is where I find a little affinity with him. His sayings in “Phrases and Philosophies for the Use of the Young” are so good I have included some of them in my compilation of “The Book of Human Wisdom”. His essays on literary and art criticism being greater than original works are hard to accept (and he knows this), but they demonstrate a thought process that is an outside-the-box perspective which can be quite valuable in working through a whole host of questions. He has a belief in synchronicity and a dialectic when a creative work is interpreted by a critic, actor, musician, director, etc. Through the dialogues in his essays, he demonstrates a belief in finding meaning in Art as opposed to Life or society (as if they are separate): “[Life] makes us pay too high a price for its wares, and we purchase the meanest of its secrets at a cost that is monstrous and infinite” …. “Society often forgives the criminal; it never forgives the dreamer.”2 He is pushing the conventions of his time and place: “An idea that is not dangerous is unworthy of being called an idea at all.”3 He rejects the subjective and changeable notions of “good” enforced by a culture. What I found highly interesting was his “The Soul of Man Under Socialism”. He argues not for a Socialism by force (what we would today call “Communism”) but by consent. Demonstrating his different way of thinking, he makes an argument that Socialism would lead to a growth of Individualism. He believes the personality of humans is absorbed by possessions. “To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.”4 He criticizes private property and philanthropy; it is an argument that private property is the problem and to use private property in an attempt to alleviate its worst effects is to perpetuate it. He does make the argument that his view is in keeping with the teachings of Jesus, foreshadowing arguments later made by English Christian authors G.K. Chesterton and C.S. Lewis. He believes that Socialism can free the soul. My personal view is that he thinks too highly of any human system as to whether it enslaves or frees the soul (as opposed to the body – this is a debate for another time). It is a thoughtful piece worthy of consideration, though weirdly and unfortunately at the end he falls back into defending the role of the literary or art critic.
Ultimately, he rejects authority over individual expression, particularly by society. He views the three despots thus: The Prince over the body; the Pope over the soul; and the People over body and soul. A democrat he is not and greatly fears the tyranny of the majority (rightly so, as it turns out for him later).
Wilde was an original. He was a beautiful writer. But, as he says in De Profundis “I am one of those who are made for exceptions, not for laws.” In my view this was true, and this cost him two years of his liberty, his family, and ultimately his health. He died a few years after his release from prison, an exile without his family.
Dispatches from the Imperial Capital 