The Picture of Dorian Gray

Dorian made a fervent wish as he was having his portrait drawn, that he could have his youth forever and his painting would age instead. When it came true, the painting recorded all of the scars of his hedonism and all the sins that the real Dorian committed. It’s such a fascinating premise, and at its core I loved how Wilde took the aesthetic ideal and twisted it to its extreme ends and made it grotesque as if in a horror movie. I loved Lord Henry’s dialogue full of witticisms, though they were more flair than substance – aesthetic over actual, just as the thesis of the book requires.

One of the most provocative statements is in the book’s preface, a thesis saying that art is morally neutral. I interpreted it as saying: art can and is supposed to push the boundaries of acceptability, of respectability, but in doing so it doesn’t have a moral imperative, it simply serves to provoke and challenge. Yet the entire novel’s plot is the antithesis, which pins an extreme aesthetic philosophy as the culprit behind Dorian’s downfall. As much as art pushing the boundaries of morality is valuable, it’s like a fire: a little fire lights the room and warms the firepit, but let it grow to its extreme ends, and it will burn the whole house down. It’s not hard to see how dangerous subversive art, literature, music can be, because the psychological permission it gives. Yet without the aesthetic exposure a person is simply dull; with a little of it, interesting; too much of it, unhinged; and even then, the impression of a person depends on who they’re impressing upon.