# The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde - Blinkist What’s in it for me? A scandalously good story. A terrible secret uncovered. A scandalous affair unraveled. A murder and a descent into depravity. All against a backdrop of opulent parties and decadent wealth. Oscar Wilde’s nineteenth-century gothic novel remains as thrilling today as it did on its first publication in 1891.  The iconic character of Dorian, the beautiful young hedonist who’d rather sell his soul than see his preternatural beauty corrupted, first appeared in a short story by Wilde in 1890. Subsequently, Wilde fleshed the story out into a novel that was promptly rejected by publishers for being “filthy” and “immoral.”  When it was finally published, Dorian’s amoral pursuit of pleasure and beauty above all else shocked some contemporary readers, as did the book’s frank depiction of a clandestine affair and its allusions to homosexuality. But despite, or perhaps because of, its reputation, The Picture of Dorian Gray continues to shock, amuse, and provoke new generations of readers. In this Blink, we’ll guide you through a brief summary of all the major plot points of this iconic late-Victorian gothic novel, and we’ll end each section with a brief analysis of some of the main themes. So, let’s dive in. The portrait in question It is fitting, in a novel that centers around a portrait, that The Picture of Dorian Gray opens with a lush, painterly description of an artist’s studio. The artist in question is Basil Hallward, a well-known artist who moves in aristocratic circles without being noble or wealthy himself. The studio is lavishly furnished – Wilde sets down lingering descriptions of the embroidered birds that flit across the silk curtains – and boasts a profusion of plants, from hothouse roses to delicately scented branches of laburnum. Basil isn’t alone in this decadent studio. With him is Lord Henry Wootton, who’ll go on to play a significant role in the rise and fall of the titular character, Dorian Gray. Dorian isn’t present in this opening scene – and yet, in a sense, he is. Both Basil and Henry are admiring a portrait Basil has recently painted of an arrestingly handsome young aristocrat. Henry admires the portrait unreservedly. He tells Basil it’s his best work and urges him to exhibit it. But while Basil agrees this portrait is the best painting he’s ever done, he’s reluctant to display it. Henry can’t understand Basil’s refusal to show the painting and Basil struggles to articulate the reasons for it himself. Eventually, he explains: “Every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter.” Basil has captured something of himself in this portrait – something that he’d prefer to keep secret and hidden. Specifically, he’s captured the enraptured “idolatry” with which he regards Dorian. In the book’s original edition Basil’s fascination is framed as artistic; later revised editions of the book restore the suggestion  – edited out by the original publisher – that Basil’s fascination with Dorian is also romantic. The portrait of Dorian will go on to become a repository for more secrets than the one Basil feels he’s painted into it. As the story continues, the reader gets the sense that Basil would like to keep Dorian, not just his portrait, to himself, too. But as luck would have it, as Henry rises to leave the studio, Dorian himself enters. Dorian persuades Henry to stay, while Basil continues work on his portrait. The encounter between Henry and Dorian will prove fateful, as Henry takes the young Dorian under his wing and introduces him to a life of disreputable hedonism. Almost immediately Henry impresses on Dorian the importance of preserving his youth and beauty for as long as possible. Seeing Dorian walk through Basil’s sunlit garden, Henry tells Dorian to come into the shade. “You have the most marvelous youth,” he explains, “and youth is the one thing worth having.” Dorian is doubtful but Henry assures him: “Someday when you are old and wrinkled and ugly, when thought has seared your forehead with lines … you will feel it terribly.” Dorian, skeptical at first, is soon swayed by Henry’s passionate arguments. He goes so far as to say he wishes the portrait Basil has painted of him might show the ravages of age and experience on its canvas while his own face remains perfectly preserved. Soon after their first meeting, Dorian and Henry are thrown together again, this time at a dinner party thrown by a mutual acquaintance, Henry’s aunt, Lady Agatha. For the most part, the dinner guests are staid, respectable Victorians. So, when Henry starts arguing passionately that beauty and pleasure are important above all else, they disagree. They find Henry’s aestheticism and hedonism troubling – they’re disturbed by his rejection of what is moral in favor of what is sensual. But Dorian is charmed. More than charmed, he’s convinced. Shortly after, and still under Lord Henry’s spell, the impressionable young Dorian walks into a theater and has an encounter that will forever alter the course of his life …  ANALYSIS Art and aesthetics play a central role in The Picture of Dorian Gray, and Wilde’s rich, ornate descriptions are intended to evoke all art’s decadent pleasures. But each of the book’s central characters has a troubled relationship to the question of whether art is life, or life is art. Certainly, Basil pours his own life, desires, and experiences into the portrait he creates, transfiguring art into life. Henry and Dorian, on the other hand, attempt to live their lives as art, seeking out only the most beautiful, sensuous experiences. Ultimately, while The Picture of Dorian Gray argues for the inherent value of art and beauty, the story also cautions against wholly subsuming a life into art, or making nothing more than art out of a life. Dorian will learn this lesson most keenly, as the line between subject – himself – and portrait, becomes irrevocably and tragically blurred. Reading the lavish descriptions of flowers Wilde includes in these opening scenes, it’s hard not to think of the Greek myth of Narcissus, who fell so dangerously in love with the image of himself reflected in a pool of water that he withered away and died, transforming into a Narcissus flower in the process. A theatrical affair One summer evening, not long after he’s met Lord Henry, Dorian goes out into the city of London, determined to find adventure. He’s inspired by Lord Henry’s belief that the search for beauty is “the real secret of life.” He finds that beauty in an unexpected place: a tawdry theatre in a cheap part of town, where a different work by Shakespeare is shown every night and the actors cycle through the parts – Juliet one evening, Lady Macbeth the next. It’s on this stage that Dorian first sets eyes on the lovely Sibyl Vane. To Dorian, Sibyl is “divine beyond all living things” and “like a creature from another world.” What’s more, when she acts, Dorian forgets everything but her. Lord Henry approves of Sibyl as a fling but cautions Dorian not to get too attached to her – after all, there are countless beautiful young women to court in London. Besides, a serious relationship with a working-class actress would be frowned upon by Dorian’s social set. Lord Henry makes pleasure the center of his life, but he’s careful never to allow his pursuit of pleasure to seriously jeopardize his social standing. Dorian doesn’t listen to this advice and the day after this conversation sends Lord Henry a telegram: he and Sibyl are engaged. Sibyl, like Dorian, is elated by the engagement. But her family, her brother James in particular, are more circumspect. They warn Sibyl against pinning her hopes on a match with Dorian – he wouldn’t be the first aristocratic young man to leave a girl of her position disappointed or worse, with her virtue compromised. James vows that if Dorian mistreats Sibyl, he’ll find Dorian and kill him. As Dorian’s relationship with Sibyl deepens, it becomes clear there are other relationships bordering on the romantic blossoming in the story. Both Lord Henry and Basil are smitten with Dorian. Basil can’t go a day without seeing Dorian, and believes that it’s Dorian’s influence which led him to create his most successful painting ever – the picture of the title. When Basil does finish the portrait, he can’t think of doing anything with it but sending it to Dorian himself as a gift. For Lord Henry, meanwhile, observing Dorian’s physical beauty and the enthusiasm with which he’s now beginning to devote to life’s pleasures, is a profoundly satisfying aesthetic experience. He begins to view Dorian’s very life as a work of art. ANALYSIS While Sibyl is, in a social sense, an inappropriate match for Dorian, in the context of the story it’s apt that Dorian falls in love with an actress. The Picture of Dorian Gray is, after all, a novel focused on performance and artifice. Not only has Dorian fallen in love with an actress, whose job is to breathe life into “artificial” representations of what is real, but he’s also fallen in love with an artificial, two-dimensional representation of himself – his image as it appears in Basil’s portrait. Meanwhile, Lord Henry, Basil, and London society at large have fallen in love with the image of youthful beauty that Dorian presents to them. Romance turns sour It’s no accident that when Dorian first sees Sibyl, she’s playing the role of Juliet. Just like they do for Shakespeare’s star-crossed lovers, things soon start to go wrong between Dorian and Sibyl. Dorian persuades Lord Henry to accompany him to the theater where Sibyl works. In stark contrast to previous performances, Sibyl is stilted and unconvincing. Lord Henry makes his exit halfway through the show, stating that “it is not good for one’s morals to see bad acting.” Dorian is mortified but stays to the end of the show. Sibyl’s performance doesn’t improve – if anything, it continues to worsen. So, he’s puzzled when he goes backstage to see Sibyl looking elated. She tells him that she’s had a revelation. The love that she acted out on stage was nothing compared to the fiery passion she’s found with Dorian. Theatrical love feels superficial and insignificant to her; it pales in comparison to the real thing. Tonight, she tells Dorian, she’s apprehended “ … the hollowness, the sham’ of the theater.” Dorian has given her “ … something higher, something of which all art is just the reflection.” But Dorian is repulsed. He loved Sibyl for her artifice, not in spite of it; he values the poor reflection more than he values real, lasting love. He has, just like his mentor Lord Henry, rejected everything of substance in favor of style alone. As far as Dorian is concerned, Sibyl has lost all her charm. And he tells her so, in the cruelest terms. He tells her she’s killed his love. That, where she used to excite his imagination, now she barely stirs his curiosity. Sibyl is devastated. She throws herself at Dorian’s feet and begs him to reconsider, promising that she’ll return to serious acting if he’ll only take her back. Dorian is unmoved. At home again, after the evening’s events, something strange has happened to Basil’s portrait of Dorian. Where once it showed a handsome young man with a mild, inviting expression, now Dorian notices the face in the portrait wears a cruel sneer. He remembers his fanciful wish at Basil’s studio – is it possible the face in the portrait is the truer reflection of his behavior? Looking at the spiteful twist in the portrait’s mouth, Dorian is overcome with remorse. He realizes he’s treated Sibyl terribly and resolves to honor his promise to marry her. But this is too little much too late. Lord Henry stops by to visit the next day, bringing with him the news that Sibyl Vane is dead. Just like Juliet, at the end of Shakespeare’s play, she’s poisoned herself, thinking her lover has abandoned her for eternity. Dorian is devastated, but Lord Henry brushes his grief aside. He tells Dorian not to mourn for Sibyl – the theatrical roles she played were more real than she was. He invites Dorian to join him at the opera, promising it’ll be a good distraction. Dorian is hesitant – a night at the opera feels inappropriate in light of Sibyl’s tragic death. But Lord Henry’s influence over Dorian is powerful and soon Dorian is convinced. ANALYSIS Dorian Gray, the man, is doubled and reflected in the portrait of Dorian which soon begins to show the man behind the mask. Through the device of the painting, Wilde offers a clever twist on a trope commonly used in late Victorian gothic literature – that of the double life. Like Robert Louis Stevenson’s The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, another famous novel that deploys the motif of the double life, The Picture of Dorian Gray features a protagonist who presents an appealing face outward to society while concealing a grotesquely unpresentable version of themselves. Narratives featuring this form of doubling can be read as a critique of oppressive Victorian morals, as the desires and appetites which must be repressed within society’s strict moral codes resurface in twisted, disturbing doubles, like Dorian’s portrait or the depraved character of Stevenson’s Mr. Hyde.  – Descent into darkness Dorian’s callous treatment of Sibyl is just the beginning of his downward spiral. He orders the portrait of himself to be removed to an attic room which only he can access. In the meantime, he starts reading a book which Lord Henry has gifted him. Known in the novel only as “the yellow book,” it’s the story of a young man who devotes himself to a life of aesthetic pleasure at the expense of all other moral and practical considerations. This yellow book is widely believed to be based on a sensational novel by Joris-Karl Huysmans, published a few years before Wilde’s novel, called Against Nature, which scandalized contemporary readers with its depictions of a wealthy aristocrat who indulges even his most ridiculous aesthetic fantasies. The yellow book becomes Dorian’s Bible. Years pass, in which Dorian devotes himself wholly to pleasure and beauty. He studies art. He collects valuable antiques and jewels. He spends every night out at a party, the theater, the opera … Rumors swirl that Dorian’s glamorous life has a dark side. Whispered stories tell of strings of spurned and disgraced lovers. But it’s hard to reconcile these seedy rumors with Dorian’s continued radiant beauty. As Wilde writes, “Even those who heard the most evil things about him … could not believe anything to his dishonor when they saw him.” Only Dorian knows the truth about his uncannily beautiful, youthful appearance. Some nights, he creeps into his attic and stares at his portrait, now foul and monstrous and yet still a recognizable likeness. He knows this portrait depicts the state of his soul. A decade and a half after Basil first painted his portrait, Dorian and Basil run into each other on the street. Their intense friendship has cooled and they’re almost strangers to each other. But Basil, acting as a friend, tells Dorian he’s worried about the rumors he’s heard concerning Dorian’s behavior. When the conversation turns to the topic of souls, Dorian impulsively declares that Basil shall see his soul that night. But when Dorian reveals the monstrously warped portrait Basil is appalled. And at once Dorian realizes his mistake – he reaches for a knife and stabs Basil to death. Terrified, Dorian sends for an old acquaintance, Alan Campbell. Alan happens to be a student of chemistry. Dorian blackmails Alan, with an undisclosed threat, into disposing of the body with nitric acid. Before Dorian allows Alan up into the attic where Basil’s body now lies on the floor, he goes up alone to cover the portrait. He notices it boasts a new feature too – a bloodied right hand. Campbell disposes of Basil’s body as asked. But, like Sibyl, he takes his own life shortly after completing this morbid task. Soon after, at his estate, Dorian believes he sees the face of James Vane, Sibyl’s brother, pressed up against the window. He convinces himself James is a figment of his imagination, but later Dorian’s groundskeeper reveals an intruder has been shot and killed on the manor’s grounds. The intruder is James Vane, intent on avenging Sibyl’s death. After this narrow escape, Dorian feels remorseful. He vows to live a more moral life. He goes so far as to refrain from seducing a local innkeeper’s daughter. On his return to London, after some weeks of trying to live more virtuously, Dorian inspects his portrait. He hopes that his features will show some improvement. Instead, his portrait looks as monstrous as ever, only with the addition of a hypocritical expression. Dorian sees that his attempts at goodness never amounted to anything more than hypocrisy. Enraged, he stabs the portrait with the same knife he used to murder Basil. When his bewildered servants find him in the attic, they’re met with a very strange scene. A portrait of a handsome man in the first flush of youth is hanging on the wall. Beneath it, with a knife through his heart, a man’s dead body, “withered, wrinkled, and loathsome of visage.” In death, Dorian has assumed his true form at last. ANALYSIS What’s the moral of the story? Well, according to Wilde, there is none. Writing in the preface to the original edition, he states, “There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written, or badly written. That is all.” But while its author cautions his readers against finding an overarching moral in The Picture of Dorian Gray, there’s certainly a moral dimension to the story. Wilde’s novel sets up a tension between the aesthetic and the moral. Within Dorian’s world, it’s clear that art can, and should, exist for art’s sake – but through the characters of Dorian and Henry, we also learn the costs that accrue when art and beauty are prized above everything else. Lord Henry’s staid aunt, Lady Agatha, and her uptight friends provide a counterpoint to Henry and Dorian’s hedonism. But they’re not to be admired, either – their strict sense of morality is depicted as pedantic, at times hypocritical, and at odds with true enjoyment of life. Wilde’s warning to his readers, that his novel should be classified as neither moral nor immoral but judged on its own merits, seems to reflect the book’s own position – that it’s as undesirable to disregard morality in favor of art as it is to disregard art in favor of morality. Final summary In The Picture of Dorian Gray one young man is taught to value beauty – and especially his own beauty – above all else. As the story charts Dorian’s corruption and downfall, and his appreciation of beauty turns into a dark obsession, the dangers of his aestheticism are laid bare.