Human Vanity: An Analysis of the Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

[Originally written on 8 March 2007]

Beauty and its preservation are two of the most prominent human desires. Even today the extent of human vanity continuously expands and the measures humans take to preserve or attain beauty continue to become more drastic. What is the origin of this vanity? Why are humans obsessed with physical beauty while seemingly disinterested in inner beauty? Why are the attributes of the body considered before the contents of the soul? Human vanity and the grotesque actions taken to satisfy it provide innumerable opportunities for psychological analysis, and in perhaps no other work of literature is human vanity more explored than in Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray. The title character is revered for his beauty but soon becomes self-obsessed, consumed by fear of his fading beauty and committed to doing whatever is necessary to avoid it, even at the expense of the virtuousness of his own soul.

As the novel opens readers are introduced immediately to Wilde’s artistic philosophy of aestheticism. The artist, Wilde says, should lead in the search for beauty, though he does not specify its type. In the novel Basil Hallward, a prominent painter, embodies this definition of the artist’s duty. He is enamored with the physical beauty of Dorian Gray, the subject of his greatest work, having invested all of his passion and energy into its construction. Lord Henry, who will emerge as the greatest facilitator of Dorian’s vanity, is surprised when Basil declares that he will not exhibit this, his great work, stating that he has “put too much of [himself] into it.” (Wilde 7) Basil, while criticizing human vanity, finds himself infatuated with Dorian Gray, and it is evident that the ignition of this affection was Dorian’s physical beauty. Basil himself is vain, naively holding that physical beauty automatically renders one’s soul beautiful. In holding this view, Basil does indeed value moral character above all, and in this regard is unlike Lord Henry and later Dorian in believing that physical beauty alone is the most important attribute. However, he too partakes in the very vanity he condemns by assuming that the intensity of one’s physical beauty indicates the beauty of one’s soul. As he will soon discover, human obsession with physical beauty compels the most sinister of actions in the interest of preserving it, and a vile soul can have a pretty face.

Dorian is, at this point, far too young and naïve to possess a vulgar soul, but his vanity and impressionable nature point to the eventual development of such a soul. “Beauty is a form of genius—[it] is higher, indeed, than genius, as it needs no explanation. It cannot be questioned. It has its divine right of sovereignty. It makes princes of those who have it.” Lord Henry pointedly dismisses those who do not regard beauty as the most important human characteristic. “To me, beauty is the wonder of wonders. It is only shallow people who do not judge by appearances.” Diminishing the importance of the soul, Lord Henry proclaims “the true mystery of the world is the visible, not the invisible.” At this moment, a feeling of great pride overcomes Dorian, as according to Henry he enjoys the highest level of existence, but it does not last. In the next utterance, a feeling of despair which pervades as the story develops overcomes Dorian as Lord Henry explains the fleeting nature of beauty. “The gods have been good to you,” Henry tells Dorian, “but what the gods give they can quickly take away. You have only a few years in which to live really, perfectly, and fully. Live! Live that wonderful life that is in you. Be afraid of nothing.” (Wilde 26-27) But Dorian does have fear. He fears the slow emergence of old age, the rapid recession of his beauty, and condemnation to the “time of no triumphs” that is the absence of youth and beauty. He resolves to preserve his beauty at all costs, and in the process relinquishes the goodness in his soul.

Coming under Lord Henry’s rather devious influence, Dorian begins to transform, the vulgarity of his soul slowly beginning to emerge. He becomes heartless, ignorant of the desires and emotions of those around him. His own self-obsession with his beauty compels him to seek out a companion with beauty of an equal caliber. In Sibyl Vane, Dorian discovers this. He is infatuated with her beauty, and she with his, but for her the attraction runs much deeper. She finds his personality charming and proclaims to her mother that she loves Dorian Gray. (Wilde 67) Dorian and Sibyl soon are engaged to be married, but for Dorian the attraction is limited only to affection for her beauty and her skill as an actress. Sibyl eloquently proclaims her love for Dorian; “You came—oh my beautiful love—and you freed my soul from prison. You taught me what reality really is.” Dorian, disgusted by the mere mention of the soul and having been told by Lord Henry that love based on the beauty of the soul and not of body and skill is a superficial emotion of weak minds, coldly tells Sybil that she has killed his love. “You used to stir my imagination,” he laments, “now you don’t even stir my curiosity. You are shallow and stupid.” (93-94) Sibyl, heartbroken, commits suicide. Dorian, unaware of Sibyl’s death, surveys his portrait and is horrified to find a cruel face staring back at him. His beauty has been tainted on the canvas by his cruelty toward Sybil. When he is informed by Lord Henry of Sibyl’s death, he is stunned, but Lord Henry convinces him to appreciate Sibyl’s suicide for it was an act borne out of her love for him, and thus it serves as a validation of Dorian’s beauty and desirability. In embracing this, Dorian effectively adopts Lord Henry’s hedonistic philosophy. At this moment, Dorian resolves to live a life of selfishness, pursuing “eternal youth, infinite passion, pleasure subtle and secret, wild joys and wilder sins—he was to have all of these things. The portrait was to bear the burden of his shame.” (113)

This transformation in Dorian is evident first to Basil, who attributes it to the corruptive influence of Lord Henry. Basil offers his condolences for Sibyl’s death to Dorian, who coldly dismissed the need for mourning, stating that “what is done is done. What is past is past.” It is evident, however, that Dorian is ashamed of his actions, declaring that the portrait which reflects his wretchedness and selfishness must never be seen in public. (Wilde 121) The world must never see the corruption which has invaded his soul. The mask of his beauty must be maintained. As time progresses, however, the portrait ages as the deeds of its subject grow fouler. On occasion, Dorian surveys the portrait, sometimes reacting in horror and others in satisfaction for the preservation of his beauty despite the increased corruption of his soul and vulgarity of his actions. His beauty, Dorian believes, has immunized him against punishment for all things which would normally be punishable: sin, greed, and selfishness.

Several years later Dorian unwillingly encounters Basil Hallward, who demands to speak with him. Basil reveals to the reader that over the years many of Dorian’s friendships have ended in acrimony or tragedy. The illusion of innocence and goodness which once shielded Dorian has disappeared to all but Basil, who still sees the good in the subject of his greatest work and proclaims that he believes none of the rumors spread about Dorian can be true. “I can’t believe them when I see you,” Basil tells Dorian. “Sin is a thing that writes itself across a man’s face. It cannot be concealed.” (Wilde 159-160) The irony inherent in this statement cannot be ignored, for it was Basil who first made Dorian aware of his beauty, first attempted to romanticize it, and created the work of art which allows for the concealment of all of Dorian’s sinful acts. Dorian, growing tiresome of Basil’s righteousness, decides that Basil should see his work. Basil is horrified at the sight of his portrait. He is bewildered that his creation could be so tarnished, but more so that a man once so beautiful could turn so vile. Dorian, in a fit of rage, stabs Basil repeatedly, killing him. His soul has become black now. He has committed murder, but his demeanor is not that of a murderer regretful of his actions. Indeed, as with the death of Sybil, he immediately projects a collected demeanor, allowing the portrait to absorb the punishment of his sin.

Dorian’s physical beauty still exists, but its protective abilities have diminished. For all sins there are penalties, and the portrait is incapable of intercepting all of them. James Vane, brother of Sybil Vane, has resolved to kill Dorian, regarding him as responsible for his sister’s suicide. When James Vane finally tracks him down, he too is fooled by the innocent and youthful appearance of Dorian Gray. He quickly discovers the truth, however, and finds Dorian again. It would appear that fate has finally caught up with Dorian, and that this punishment would be one he would ensure. Vane, however, is killed in a hunting accident before making his move against Dorian. This close brush with death leads Dorian to declare that he wants to live virtuously, telling Henry, “I have done too many dreadful things in my life. I am not going to do more.” (Wilde 224). Dorian hopes that this declaration will alter the painting and help restore virtue to his soul and peace to his conscience. He finds that, much to his horror, the painting is “more loathsome, if possible, than before—and the scarlet dew that spotted the hand seemed brighter, and more like blood newly spilt.” (Wilde 237) Dorian picks up the knife he had used to kill Basil, and now vowed to destroy Basil’s work, and this would “kill the past, and when that was dead he would be free.” (238) At this moment, “there was a cry heard, and a crash. When [the servants] entered, they found hanging upon the wall a splendid portrait of their master as they had last seen him, in all the wonder of his exquisite youth and beauty. Lying on the floor was a dead man, withered, wrinkled, with a knife in his heart.” (239)

What is to be gathered from the story of Dorian Gray? It is at first glance convenient to attest Dorian’s corruption and eventual downfall to the influence of Lord Henry, but this would not be fair. At the beginning of the novel, Lord Henry advises Dorian not to squander his youth, and move forward fearing nothing. Dorian did not do this. He feared the recession of his youth and the emergence of old age, and this fear drove him to madness. Even his great beauty could not mask the sins which darkened his soul. He may have, for a time, preserved his beauty, but ultimately he corrupted his soul. In the end, he devoted so much wasted effort to preserving his youth that he neglected to live his life. His life became not the art of experience, as Lord Henry calls it, but rather a futile struggle to avoid the inevitable. Beauty fades, but the goodness of a soul is lasting. In searching for lasting beauty, Dorian eclipsed this goodness and left a legacy of scandal and disgrace. In the end, his beauty disappeared and his soul, like his life, degraded to darkness and emptiness. Ultimately, both his beauty and his soul escaped him.