The Picture Of Dorian Gray Annotated Illustrated Pictures Edition

Author : Oscar Wilde
Publisher :
ISBN 13 : 9781976891755
Total Pages : 151 pages
Book Rating : 4.8/5 (917 download)

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Download or read book The Picture of Dorian Gray (Annotated) written by Oscar Wilde and published by . This book was released on 2018-01-13 with total page 151 pages. Available in PDF, EPUB and Kindle. Book excerpt: This is an annotated version of the book1. contains an updated biography of the author at the end of the book for a better understanding of the text.2. This book has been checked and corrected for spelling errorsThe studio was filled with the rich odour of roses, and when the lightsummer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden, there came throughthe open door the heavy scent of the lilac, or the more delicateperfume of the pink-flowering thorn.From the corner of the divan of Persian saddle-bags on which he waslying, smoking, as was his custom, innumerable cigarettes, Lord HenryWotton could just catch the gleam of the honey-sweet and honey-colouredblossoms of a laburnum, whose tremulous branches seemed hardly able tobear the burden of a beauty so flamelike as theirs; and now and thenthe fantastic shadows of birds in flight flitted across the longtussore-silk curtains that were stretched in front of the huge window,producing a kind of momentary Japanese effect, and making him think ofthose pallid, jade-faced painters of Tokyo who, through the medium ofan art that is necessarily immobile, seek to convey the sense ofswiftness and motion. The sullen murmur of the bees shouldering theirway through the long unmown grass, or circling with monotonousinsistence round the dusty gilt horns of the straggling woodbine,seemed to make the stillness more oppressive. The dim roar of Londonwas like the bourdon note of a distant organ.In the centre of the room, clamped to an upright easel, stood thefull-length portrait of a young man of extraordinary personal beauty,and in front of it, some little distance away, was sitting the artisthimself, Basil Hallward, whose sudden disappearance some years agocaused, at the time, such public excitement and gave rise to so manystrange conjectures.As the painter looked at the gracious and comely form he had soskilfully mirrored in his art, a smile of pleasure passed across hisface, and seemed about to linger there. But he suddenly started up,and closing his eyes, placed his fingers upon the lids, as though hesought to imprison within his brain some curious dream from which hefeared he might awake."It is your best work, Basil, the best thing you have ever done," saidLord Henry languidly. "You must certainly send it next year to theGrosvenor. The Academy is too large and too vulgar. Whenever I havegone there, there have been either so many people that I have not beenable to see the pictures, which was dreadful, or so many pictures thatI have not been able to see the people, which was worse. The Grosvenoris really the only place.""I don't think I shall send it anywhere," he answered, tossing his headback in that odd way that used to make his friends laugh at him atOxford. "No, I won't send it anywhere."Lord Henry elevated his eyebrows and looked at him in amazement throughthe thin blue wreaths of smoke that curled up in such fanciful whorlsfrom his heavy, opium-tainted cigarette. "Not send it anywhere? Mydear fellow, why? Have you any reason? What odd chaps you paintersare! You do anything in the world to gain a reputation. As soon asyou have one, you seem to want to throw it away. It is silly of you,for there is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about,and that is not being talked about. A portrait like this would set youfar above all the young men in England, and make the old men quitejealous, if old men are ever capable of any emotion.""I know you will laugh at me," he replied, "but I really can't exhibitit. I have put too much of myself into it."Lord Henry stretched himself out on the divan and laughed."Yes, I knew you would; but it is quite true, all the same.""Too much of yourself in it! Upon my word, Basil, I didn't know youwere so vain;