by Oscar Wilde
Wilde had made a name for himself partly as a representative of the “aesthetic” school, the central axiom of which is captured by the familiar slogan “art for art’s sake”. Wilde puts it more elegantly in an essay: “'Lying, the telling of beautiful untrue things, is the proper aim of Art.” Aestheticism was inextricably bound up with another “school”, Decadence, which had come to prominence in France. An early reviewer of Wilde’s novel said of it: “It is a tale spawned from the leprous literature of the French decadents.” We can find in the text an extended discussion of the principles of aestheticism, though because of its complex interplay of characters and voices, it is difficult to say that any one statement in the book unequivocally represents Wilde’s views.
The novel contains countless references to homosexuality, many of them heavily coded, others quite explicit. The original typescript in particular represents Wilde’s confidence in his standing as an author. He had no qualms about shocking his readership, and deliberately plays with the audience’s conflicting emotions. Superficially the decadent Dorian stands condemned before the reader for his appalling behaviour, for which he pays dearly. But he is no textbook villain of the kind that could be found in the era’s penny dreadfuls. The character whose homosexual feelings are most clear, Basil Hallward, is a figure of great sympathy. And the unabashedly decadent Lord Henry pays no price at all.
When we compare the original version of the novel to the one published in book form in 1891, the most substantial and obvious change to the text is the extensive additions made by Wilde himself. The additions mostly consist in entire discrete chapters. The original chapter headings were renumbered accordingly. The following table indicates how the original and final versions correspond in terms of numbered chapters. The roman numerals indicate the original typescript, the Arabic numbers the final book version.
I = 1
II = 2
Chapter 3 inserted
III = 4
5 inserted
IV = 6
V= 7
VI = 8
VII = 9
VIII = 10
IX = 11
X = 12
XI = 13
XII = 14
Chapter 15 inserted
Chapter 16 inserted
Chapter 17 inserted
Chapter 18 inserted
XIII = 19
XIII was divided in two, with Chapter 20 beginning “It was a lovely night . . .”
Wilde also added a short preface defending his intentions in writing the novel.
Though more minor in purely textual terms, the excisions made by Lippincott’s editor in 1890, and by Wilde himself for the book version, were just as significant as the additions. They occur throughout the text, and were aimed at passages deemed too explicit – usually ones that furthered the novel’s erotic, homosexual undercurrent. This meant most often cutting passages where Hallward frankly expresses his feelings for Dorian, either to Dorian himself or to Lord Henry. Here are some examples. The following passage was cut entirely:
“I couldn't be happy if I didn't see him every day. Of course sometimes it is only for a few minutes. But a few minutes with somebody one worships means a great deal.”
“But you don’t really worship him?”
“I do.”
In the original, Hallward says of his painting: “I have put into it all the extraordinary romance of which, of course, I have never dared to speak to him.” In the final version, he says: “Because I have put into it some expression of all this curious artistic idolatry, of which, of course, I have never cared to speak to him.” In the original, when Hallward is told Dorian is engaged, he “turned perfectly pale, and a curious look flashed for a moment into his eyes, and then passed away, leaving them dull.” In the final version, the painter merely “started and then frowned”. Hallward later tells Dorian, in a passage that was cut entirely: “It is quite true that I have worshipped you with far more romance of feeling than a man should ever give to a friend. Somehow, I had never loved a woman. I suppose I never had time. Perhaps, as Harry say, a really ‘grande passion’ is the privilege of those who have nothing to do, and that is the use of the idle classes in a country. Well, from the moment I met you, your personality had the most extraordinary influence over me. I quite admit that I adored you madly, extravagantly, absurdly. I was jealous of every one to whom you spoke. I wanted to have you all to myself.”
We are told in the original, of Hallward’s feelings, that there was “something infinitely tragic in a romance that was at once so passionate and so sterile”. The painter is described in the following way in the original, in another passage that was excised: “Rugged and straightforward as he was, there was something in his nature that was purely feminine in its tenderness.”
Those readers seeking a record of all the changes made to the text, including minor textual ones (much punctuation was changed, and spelling was in many cases Americanized) may consult Professor Frankel’s excellent edition.