"I didn't say I liked it, Harry. I said it fascinated me. There is a great difference." This quote stuck out to me because it embodies the way that the characters in this novel think and speak. There is always something more, something hidden, something deep, woven into the speech and thoughts of the characters. This quote also reflects the immense transformation that Dorian Gray has experienced when compared to the beginning of the novel. Dorian Gray from page one would never have said anything of that sort, but now Dorian has been twisted and manipulated by others so much that the only commonality between the character from page one and the Dorian Gray that spoke those words is their beauty. |
Even that feels transformed. When Basil first described the beauty of Dorian Gray, the reader could not help but fall in love with him before he had ever uttered a single word in the book. He was handsome, and interesting. Something about his persona drew you in. Now, it feels evil. Dorian has discovered that his soul is not so much in him as it is in the portrait Basil painted of him, and has made him rather reckless; the consequences of his actions are engraved on his portrait, not on him. His face is a stranger to bags under the eyes, his forehead has yet to develop a crease from a wrinkle, his lips remain as full and colorful as always. But his portrait is not so lucky.
The fact that Dorian's beauty is not affected by his actions makes him feel disconnected from his wrongdoings. He sees their affects on his portrait, and he reflects on them the way he would reflect upon the behavior of a different individual, not himself. He as also unnaturally intrigued by the grotesque-essence-that-is-remenicent-of-past-beauty that his portrait contains. I, strangely, think I understand how Dorian feels when he looks at his portrait. When you go to the zoo, and you are in the section where they inhabit all the insects, you eventually come across one that is unappealing by every standard; ugly, hideous, and quite frankly, rather terrifying. But there is something about that specific insect that draws you in more than say, a butterfly. You find yourself looking for the small details that, when brought together, produce a nasty looking animal. It is a different type of fascination than that which we experience when we have encounters with beauty, and sometimes that fascination with grotesque beauty is more demanding for attention than the mere appreciation of that which is beautiful.
The fact that Dorian's beauty is not affected by his actions makes him feel disconnected from his wrongdoings. He sees their affects on his portrait, and he reflects on them the way he would reflect upon the behavior of a different individual, not himself. He as also unnaturally intrigued by the grotesque-essence-that-is-remenicent-of-past-beauty that his portrait contains. I, strangely, think I understand how Dorian feels when he looks at his portrait. When you go to the zoo, and you are in the section where they inhabit all the insects, you eventually come across one that is unappealing by every standard; ugly, hideous, and quite frankly, rather terrifying. But there is something about that specific insect that draws you in more than say, a butterfly. You find yourself looking for the small details that, when brought together, produce a nasty looking animal. It is a different type of fascination than that which we experience when we have encounters with beauty, and sometimes that fascination with grotesque beauty is more demanding for attention than the mere appreciation of that which is beautiful.