Once the Labouchere Amendment was passed in 1865, it was officially perfectly legal to punish any act of homosexuality by law. As a result, the millions of queer people living in Europe at the time were perpetually trapped in the metaphorical closet, and thus resorted to sublimation and doubling to express their queerness while still evading the consequences. The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, a man whose own life was affected irrevocably by the ostracization of homosexual individuals, depicts the consequences of leading such a life. Dorian’s story teaches us that leading a double life, while sometimes the only option one feels they have, is ultimately unsustainable and leads to an eventual downfall.
Dorian Gray’s doubling was the result of a complex blend of societal expectations and internalized homophobia. As was common in the Victorian era, Dorian (and all other characters in The Picture of Dorian Gray) were highly invested in their own public image. Basil refuses to show his painting at exhibitions, for fear of his “true soul” being bared to the world; Henry marries a woman despite being queer and preaching a self-serving lifestyle; even news of Sibyl’s suicide was treated more as a “scandal” than a tragedy, with Dorian and Henry nervously assuring themselves that nobody had seen them with her. It is this hyperfixation on an unflawed reputation that led Gray to repress his sexuality. Unlike the Hellenic era, where homosexuality was normal and common, the Victorian era society would’ve severely punished Dorian for being openly queer. Dorian seems to internalize this homophobia, even at one point obviously resenting Basil for his homosexuality, despite being gay himself. Thus, for “fear of public condemnation” (The Literature Blog), Dorian conceals his true queer self in Basil’s painting, and leads a life of opulence and class in high society. Oscar Wilde’s choice to make gaudy wealth and hedonism the secondary theme of this novel is not coincidental, either -- Hannah Gadsby, in her Netflix special Nanette, discusses how “the pressure on [queer] people to express their identity and pride through the metaphor of party is very intense”. It seems, even as Dorian attempts to separate his queer, closeted self and his public, “party” self, they are more intertwined than he realizes. In other words, public Dorian’s various vices -- from reading hedonistic novels to murdering Basil -- all reveal his increasing willingness to do dangerous, illegal, unethical deeds to protect the one thing he simultaneously cannot show the world or live without -- his other self.
Yet, this split persona quickly proves unsustainable. His actions rapidly become contemporary legend, whispers on the street permanently marring his public image. Although few truly believe these rumors after seeing Dorian’s porcelain face, Oscar Wilde toys with the irony of Dorian’s closeted self profoundly impacting his public reputation -- perhaps moreso than if he had not separated them at all. Friends mysteriously commit suicide; Basil, the moral compass of the novel, disassociates almost entirely; the painting, much to Dorian’s fascination and disgust, deteriorates into an unrecognizable, horrific portrait. This is yet another commentary on the detrimental effects of doubling -- “the closet can only stop [Dorian] from being seen. It is not shame proof” (Nanette, Netflix). Upon realizing that this painting can “hold his secrets”, Dorian is almost thrilled; he realizes he can commit sins and not personally pay the price for it. Yet, his obsession with the contrast between his physical beauty and his painting’s hideousness eventually consumes him, and Dorian begins visiting opium dens to dull (or rather, forget) the constant struggle of this double life. This “thrill of darkness” (Robinson) is ephemeral; when Dorian falls from this high, he is brutally reintroduced to a world of death, secrets, and terror. And worse, he is reminded that this world is one of his own creation. This ultimately proves to be too much for him, and, in an effort to reconcile his two halves, he kills both.
Dorian Gray’s doubling was the result of a complex blend of societal expectations and internalized homophobia. As was common in the Victorian era, Dorian (and all other characters in The Picture of Dorian Gray) were highly invested in their own public image. Basil refuses to show his painting at exhibitions, for fear of his “true soul” being bared to the world; Henry marries a woman despite being queer and preaching a self-serving lifestyle; even news of Sibyl’s suicide was treated more as a “scandal” than a tragedy, with Dorian and Henry nervously assuring themselves that nobody had seen them with her. It is this hyperfixation on an unflawed reputation that led Gray to repress his sexuality. Unlike the Hellenic era, where homosexuality was normal and common, the Victorian era society would’ve severely punished Dorian for being openly queer. Dorian seems to internalize this homophobia, even at one point obviously resenting Basil for his homosexuality, despite being gay himself. Thus, for “fear of public condemnation” (The Literature Blog), Dorian conceals his true queer self in Basil’s painting, and leads a life of opulence and class in high society. Oscar Wilde’s choice to make gaudy wealth and hedonism the secondary theme of this novel is not coincidental, either -- Hannah Gadsby, in her Netflix special Nanette, discusses how “the pressure on [queer] people to express their identity and pride through the metaphor of party is very intense”. It seems, even as Dorian attempts to separate his queer, closeted self and his public, “party” self, they are more intertwined than he realizes. In other words, public Dorian’s various vices -- from reading hedonistic novels to murdering Basil -- all reveal his increasing willingness to do dangerous, illegal, unethical deeds to protect the one thing he simultaneously cannot show the world or live without -- his other self.
Yet, this split persona quickly proves unsustainable. His actions rapidly become contemporary legend, whispers on the street permanently marring his public image. Although few truly believe these rumors after seeing Dorian’s porcelain face, Oscar Wilde toys with the irony of Dorian’s closeted self profoundly impacting his public reputation -- perhaps moreso than if he had not separated them at all. Friends mysteriously commit suicide; Basil, the moral compass of the novel, disassociates almost entirely; the painting, much to Dorian’s fascination and disgust, deteriorates into an unrecognizable, horrific portrait. This is yet another commentary on the detrimental effects of doubling -- “the closet can only stop [Dorian] from being seen. It is not shame proof” (Nanette, Netflix). Upon realizing that this painting can “hold his secrets”, Dorian is almost thrilled; he realizes he can commit sins and not personally pay the price for it. Yet, his obsession with the contrast between his physical beauty and his painting’s hideousness eventually consumes him, and Dorian begins visiting opium dens to dull (or rather, forget) the constant struggle of this double life. This “thrill of darkness” (Robinson) is ephemeral; when Dorian falls from this high, he is brutally reintroduced to a world of death, secrets, and terror. And worse, he is reminded that this world is one of his own creation. This ultimately proves to be too much for him, and, in an effort to reconcile his two halves, he kills both.
This overarching chronicle -- of a slow, dark, descent into utter madness as a result of chasing superficial fleeting ideals (whether that be youth, beauty, or reputation) is a tale as old as time. Gasby describes this burden as a “tension [that] non-normals carry inside them all the time”, and history -- from Van Gogh to Oscar Wilde himself -- has proven this to be true. Even contemporary authors, like JK Rowling, have experimented with the ideas of double lives… or rather, hept-le lives? Dorian Gray encases a portion of his soul within Basil’s painting (to protect his youth, innocence and sexuality), and this exemplifies the inviability of separating one’s life into parts, refusing to allow them to mix, blend, or affect each other. Similarly, Tom Riddle, in a mad rampage to become immortal, separates his soul into seven pieces, each leaving him more unstable than the last. In both cases, as long as the inanimate objects that hold portions of the characters’ souls are unharmed, so is the character (YorkNotes). And in both cases, this unrealistic belief that natural phenomena -- from sexuality to mortality -- are controllable proves fatal. Rowling suggests that Voldemort is ultimately killed, not by Harry Potter, but by his refusal to accept death as it comes. Wilde, similarly, seems to suggest that perpetually invalidating one’s sexuality (by law or otherwise) comes at a brutal cost. The story of Dorian is not just a fictional tale; his downfall mirrors so many others’. This life of opulence and glamor those as beautiful as Dorian (or, those as well-spoken and charming as Tom Riddle) seem to inherit has consequences -- the anomalies, from the queer community to the socially awkward, are thrown aside, alienated, murdered, and told to “exist in the margins” (Nanette, Netflix). And for a stunning reversal, the plot twist -- the Dorians and Riddles are usually anomalies, too.
Works Cited
Nanette. Performance by Hannah Gadsby, Netflix, 2018.
"The Picture of Dorian Gray: Advanced York Notes." York Notes, www.yorknotes.com/alevel/english-literature/the-picture-of-dorian-gray-advanced/study/critical-approaches/02010100_themes. Accessed 12 June 2022.
Robinson, David E. "The Gothic genre, classical allusion and other influences in Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray." Literator: Journal of Literary Criticism, Comparative Linguistics and Literary Studies, vol. 42, no. 1, 1 Jan. 2021. Gale Academic OneFile, link.gale.com/apps/doc/A651494080/AONE?u=lom_troyhs&sid=bookmark-AONE&xid=33497b5e. Accessed 3 June 2022.
Rowe, Dionne. "Homoeroticism and Doubling in Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray." The Literature Blog, WordPress, 2018, interpretingliterature.com/2018/10/27/homoeroticism-and-doubling-in-oscar-wildes-the-picture-of-dorian-gray/amp/. Accessed 11 June 2022.
Wilde, Oscar. The Picture of Dorian Gray. 1890 ed., New York City, CreateSpace Independent Publishing, 2015.Written By: Deepti Aggarwal, Angelina Guo, Vidhi Kamat
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