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INTRODUCTION
First published by Oscar Wilde in 1890, The Picture of Dorian Gray was a 13-chapter novella featured in the Lippincott's Monthly Magazine, classified as a philosophical fiction and Gothic horror novel. The novella explored cynical philosophical themes—including, but not limited to, abandoning morals in pursuit of beauty, living an unapologetic hedonistic life, the aesthetics and romance of art, and the Faustian bargain. When Wilde first sent the manuscript to Stoddard, who deemed it scandalous and offensive, he deleted and revised an estimated 500 words, before publishing it to the magazine.
However, even after Stoddard's revisions, it was still considered debaucherous and was heavily criticized, primarily for its explicit homoerotic implications of romantic love between men. So Wilde decided to revise the book, expanding it with seven more chapters, adding a Preface, further censoring its implied homosexuality by making it seem less romantic and more on aesthetic appreciation of beauty, and published it as a novel in 1891. But alas, in 1895, Wilde was sent to trial for “gross indecency” after Lord Alfred Douglas’—his lover—father accused him of homosexuality, Wilde sued him for libel, but the case backfired. The relationship between the two men were discovered, using Wilde's one and only novel as one of the pieces of evidence. Wilde was convicted and sent to two years of hard labor. It wasn't until 2011 that the original novella was finally published publicly.
The Picture of Dorian Gray features three main characters: Dorian Gray (the art), Basil Hallward (the artist), and Lord Henry Wotton (the influence). The book follows Dorian Gray, an exquisite and youthful man, who expresses a wish that his portrait would age and become hideous, instead of him. His wish is granted, and Dorian Gray indulges in every vice and pleasure, while his portrait, hidden from the world, bears the burden of his sins. As his soul grows even more twisted, devastating consequences await.
LINGUISTIC, GEOGRAPHIC, & ETHNIC DIMENSIONS
Linguistic Dimension
The novella is written in English, but besides language and vocabulary, Linguistic Dimension also refers to how the author uses literary language, word choices, figurative speeches, imagery, and more. A very recurrent theme in the story’s narration is romance, art, and extravagance. In fact, the majority of the story relies on characters’ thoughts, emotional narration, and dialogues.
One thing about the narration is how expressively it portrays emotions and its uniqueness depending on which character feels which. For example—distress and sorrow. Whenever Dorian is heavily saddened, the narrator explicitly states it. In fact, it's written in such a deliberate way that it shows his emotional and passionate nature, purposely dramatizing him; he throws himself on the couch, he loudly expresses himself, or he cries. However, it's a different case for Basil—a character who often suppresses his emotions—this is most prominent in Chapter IV. When Basil learned that Dorian was engaged, the narrator described pallor, a curious look flashing in his eyes, then going dull; this is the look of a man who felt terror before losing hope. In this context, “curious” means strange, but the narrator isn't calling his expression strange, it's referring to how the average Victorian person would interpret his expression as strange. It's an expression that is especially difficult to decipher in this era, because it's actually in the context of queer heartbreak. It's a deliberate word choice to show just how unthinkable a man could be distressed by the engagement of another man, unless he loved him. At the near end of the chapter, when Basil was riding a hansom cab, the narrator says there was a gloom over him, his eyes darkened and crowded streets before him became blurred. But hansoms weren't fast enough to cause motion blur; the streets blurring wasn't literally the physical environment, it was a figurative word choice. Eyes darkening is a common way for writers to express emotional distraught, and blurred vision is often used to depict a perspective filtered through tears. Basil was crying in that scene, over something that he can't name out loud. The same emotion, two different characters, two different narration styles.
Geographic Dimension
The story is set in London in the late 19th century, which is a crucial point to consider with Lord Henry and Dorian both having high social standing and wealth. Being wealthy in the Victorian era meant a life of leisure, luxury, and extravagance, this is especially prominent when the two characters are often at the opera, theatre, or club together. Constantly being in opera and theater says more about one’s social standing than how entertaining the plays actually are, and clubs back then were exclusive social hubs for gentlemen.
Additionally, Paris was also often mentioned—in Chapter I when Lord Henry suggested Basil to exhibit his painting in Paris, in Chapter VII when Basil actually wanted to exhibit the painting in Paris, and in Chapter X when Basil was supposed to go to Paris and take a studio there. This wasn't a casual decision by Wilde, in the 19th century art was extremely popular and central to Parisian life, Paris was essentially the world's art capital and often attracted artists globally to study and create. Paris was seen as a vast studio, being the origin to many prominent art forms such as Impressionism.
Ethnic Dimension
Dorian and Lord Henry were wealthy, white, upper-class men with high social standing; this was particularly a big deal in the Victorian era as it offered a life of significant privilege, power, and influence, built upon a social hierarchy that favored race, gender, and economic standing.
This is also a crucial point given how, in Chapter IX, Dorian spends most of his years indulging in “exotic” art. Britain colonized parts of Africa, the Middle East, Southeast Asia, and more. Dorian engaging in foreign arts that were linked to entire cultures, taking only what feels good to him, mirrors how Britain consumed colonized cultures while not respecting them as living people, the cultures were reduced to decadence, decor, and luxury. This is a subtle presentation of his moral rot and how he takes advantage of his privileges.
THE PURPOSE OF THE AUTHOR
Wilde wanted to explore aestheticism—art for art's sake—and its limits and dangers. He wanted to show how a life purely devoted to beauty and pleasure, without morality, leads to corruption and self-destruction. The novella also serves as a commentary on Victorian hypocrisy, morality, and the complexities of identity—especially since it represented his lifestyle. It is ultimately a cautionary tale against hedonism and the superficiality of the era. It is also a subtle expression of his oppressed homosexuality, hinting at themes of forbidden desire, homoerotic friendships, and queer love—primarily Basil's feelings for Dorian.
THE MESSAGE OF THE AUTHOR
The novella ends tragically, with Dorian never being able to find proper closure as his life abruptly ends. This clashes with other notable literatures, such as Dostoyevsky's Crime and Punishment, which ended with the main character being able to take a step forward towards redemption and finding self-peace—Dorian has never gone through any of that, throughout the story he uses unhealthy coping mechanisms, forcibly suppresses his own emotions, and every time he's given a chance at redemption, it's either taken from him by fate or he deliberately doesn't take a step towards it. This is because Wilde wasn't writing a story about redemption, growth, and genuine happiness—it was a deliberate warning against what happens if hedonism is left unchecked. He was showing that redemption requires responsibility, that love requires sincerity, and that pleasure without morals annihilates you. But ultimately, being noble and pure in such an oppressive and corrupt society was self-destruction, giving Dorian a happy ending would've broken the caution Wilde was telling.
MY OPINIONS, THEORIES, AND ADDITIONAL ANALYSES ON THE ISSUES & IDEAS
How Dorian Was a Victim of Psychological Grooming by Lord Henry
A common interpretation among readers is that Dorian has always been vain and corrupt before meeting Lord Henry, and that Lord Henry was merely the one who awakened it sooner or helped him embrace it. However, I see this as a shallow misinterpretation that overlooks the nuance and tragedy in Dorian's character.
While it's true that in Chapter I, Basil mentioned that Dorian seemed to take delight in his pain—being indifferent to his compliments and not appreciating his acts of affection, it's not exactly a display of vanity nor corruption. It could be merely Dorian genuinely not realizing the weight of Basil's feelings for him, and since he was beautiful, it was likely common for him to be flattered by others. Chapter I also shows Basil being wary and uneasy about Lord Henry meeting Dorian, because he's aware that Lord Henry is a terrible influence, and he agrees to what other people have said about Dorian—that he was good-hearted and sensible. Another point is that, in Chapter II, Lord Henry's first impression of Dorian was that he embodied all of youth's unstained purity and innocence, untouched by the world and very trustworthy. Of course, this is merely a first impression, but actually, Lord Henry is surprisingly empathetic (to a degree) and is good at reading others. In fact, it was Dorian's innocence, beauty, and youth that drew him in.
Now, “grooming” doesn't necessarily mean anything sexual, because there are multiple types of grooming. Grooming, at its core, is the act of identifying vulnerability, isolation from others who provide stabilization, reframing harmful thoughts as liberating, and making the subject feel seen and special. It's the deliberate reshaping of another person's reality, making your control over them feel safe and natural. The first warning sign is in Chapter II, where Lord Henry tells Dorian that there's no good or bad influence, but that influence was only immoral. His reasoning was that it denies agency of self-development—to discover one's own beliefs, to think one's own thoughts, and to develop one’s own passions—he says that the influenced person does not own his soul because someone else gave it to him… Before going ahead and influencing Dorian in that same chapter. This shows that Lord Henry is aware that his actions are immoral, but he simply does not care about morality.
His first act of influence was when he told Dorian to appreciate his youth and hold onto it until it lasts, he laments the tragedy of its impermanence, and he even values it more than intellect because youth is self-explanatory and impossible to doubt. He tells Dorian to live his life to the fullest, because when he grows old and hideous, everyone who loved him once no longer will, no one will care for him, and that he will become “spoiled.” Henry's words have a major impact on Dorian, who starts believing that he is nothing without his youth and beauty, that he is worth less than it, he expresses suicidal desire, and this is what pushed him to make that wish.
Another example of his influence was in Chapter III, where Dorian took Lord Henry's advice and sought out an adventure, where he met and fell in love with the actress Sibyl Vane. However, he “loved” her because she was a great artist, he loved her for the characters she played, he never really loved her as an individual person. This is because Lord Henry taught him to hold art and beauty to the highest degree, Lord Henry doesn't believe in sincere love and romanticizes romance itself, or rather, the aesthetics of romance. Dorian's shallow love is shown in Chapter V where Sibyl wanted to quit acting and marry him, he verbally lashes out and leaves her, because she failed to represent the ideal that Lord Henry taught him. He doesn't even get the chance to mourn her passing in Chapter VI, because Lord Henry feeds him even more “insight,” enabling the romanticization and aestheticization of her taking her own life, dehumanizing her by calling her demise “the final act in a wonderful play,” and telling him that past must remain the past—that it must never be brought up to the present lest it loses its charm. Lord Henry proceeded to distract him from her by inviting him to the Opera. Dorian thought that being with Sibyl made him forget Henry's influence and no longer believe in them, but his attention was merely temporarily redirected.
Those were only a few examples, there were multiple other instances where Lord Henry deliberately takes control of Dorian’s actions to move him further and further away from who he actually is. In reality, Lord Henry never really humanized Dorian, at first he aestheticized and appreciated him merely for his looks—then, as Dorian was beginning to change because of his influence, he became intrigued and curious about what Dorian's life would lead to, essentially calling him an “experiment,” he was incredibly fascinated by who Dorian was becoming and wanted to help him “bloom” even further. He saw Dorian's innocence and emotional vulnerability and took advantage of it; as an avid lover of art and pleasure, Lord Henry didn't want Dorian to “waste” his looks by living a pure and sensible life. Throughout the story, he psychologically molds Dorian into his liking—teaching him his philosophies as if they're the truth, enabling Dorian's unhealthy actions, and directing him further and further away from humanity.
Others might argue that Dorian should've known better, but in fact, Chapter VIII explains exactly why he didn't know better. His childhood was explicitly stated as a lonely childhood, wherein he was emotionally neglected and hated by his uncle, his only guardian, and spent most of his time in his schoolroom. It’s very likely that he was isolated and didn't have much of a social life growing up. He wasn't being gradually exposed to temptations and vices, so he grew up inexperienced and naive. Lord Henry was dumping entirely foreign ideas and beliefs onto someone all at once, someone who was completely unfamiliar with the terrain. This is especially devastating given that Lord Henry was already described to be naturally influential and intellectually charming before he even met Dorian. Even after Dorian explicitly said he wanted to redeem himself in Chapter XIII, Lord Henry still kept convincing him to never change, that he was “perfect the way he was.”
Lord Henry's impact on Dorian becomes noticeable in how he perceives his relationship with others—he’s become dependent. At first, he believed that by marrying Sibyl he’d become good and they'd live happily, in Chapter VII he regretted not telling Basil his secret because Basil would've saved him, and in Chapter VIII he thinks about a hypothetical lover who'd purify him. He fantasizes about the idea of redemption, but doesn't actually do any redeeming acts, he genuinely believes that someone else will come along and redeem him. It never occurred to him that he could do it independently, that he didn't have to rely on others to direct his actions for him. Because for him, redemption was never about growth, it was about being controlled by a new person. So when nobody came to save him, he remained with Lord Henry.
Basil's Love for Dorian and How it Doomed Him
Another common interpretation was that Basil was never romantically in love with Dorian, and only aesthetically cared about his beauty and innocence. Once more, I see this as a shallow misinterpretation that overlooks how Basil is actually one of the very few, if not the only, characters who express themselves sincerely and value love and morality above all else.
Basil is possessive and easily jealous, yes, this was already established since Chapter I, but it's never predatory. He says that he prefers to keep the names of whom he loves a secret, as doing otherwise feels like giving away a part of them. Basil is a secretive man by nature, it’s implied that he finds intimacy and peace in knowing what he knows, and keeping it away from other people—this is a representation on how homosexual Victorian men had to keep their identities a secret, never revealing themselves. As a homosexual, Basil has likely grown used to and even fond of keeping certain information about himself a secret, as if it's sacred. Additionally, his perception about Dorian's innocence was never fantasizing or idealizing—Dorian was innocent. One of the main themes of the novella is quite literally loss of innocence. But Basil didn't care about innocence, he cared that Dorian was a kind-hearted person.
Basil is also ashamed of his feelings and hides them. This is shown in Chapter I when he didn't want to exhibit his portrait of Dorian, because he “put too much of himself on it,” that paintings tell more about the painter and less about the subject, that the painting itself is a depiction of his unending devotion, that the world must never know of his “idolatry.” Dorian is more than just a muse to Basil. Yes, he's the absolute inspiration in his art—it undeniably adds a hundred times more beauty and life to it—but a mere muse doesn't alter how one sees the world. In this same chapter, Basil also says that Dorian makes him appreciate and value life more immensely than he did before, that he finds the world to be a lovelier place. Dorian is not a muse of his art, Dorian is his art.
Further proof that Basil adores Dorian more than just “physical admiration” is also in this same chapter—when they first met, he said that it was Dorian's personality that captivated him and consumed his entire being. Of course, you can't tell someone's entire personality just by merely looking at them, but this suggests that at first glance, Basil saw something deeper and more captivating beneath his beautiful face. Additionally, Basil values his friendship with Dorian and Dorian's wants above all, even at the cost of his own comfort—in Chapter II he insisted Lord Henry to stay (even after he asked him to leave) simply because Dorian wanted someone to talk to while he painted, in Chapter II again, he was willing to destroy Dorian's portrait—his masterpiece—because it caused Dorian great distress, in Chapter IV when he learned about Dorian's engagement—it made him miserable—but he simply wished Sibyl would make him happy, and that's just to name a few. He also respects Dorian's boundaries, one example is in Chapter VII, he wanted to see Dorian's portrait but Dorian absolutely refused and couldn't provide an explanation, but even when confused he assures Dorian he won't look at the portrait.
In Chapter V, Basil says that love is more wonderful than art—this reminds me of when in Chapter II, Basil said that without Dorian, his paintings become utterly meaningless, just a piece of canvas splattered with paint. There are implications that his love for Dorian revolutionized his paintings; before Dorian he painted wonderfully, but after Dorian he painted truthfully. However, in Chapter I he says that “real” art should be shallow and emotionless, that artists shouldn't project their passions onto it. Meaning, by his own definition, his painting of Dorian is not art, which was the primary reason why he won't exhibit it. This heavily implies that when he paints Dorian, it's not an expression of art, but an expression of love. What's especially interesting about Basil valuing love over art is that Lord Henry, in Chapter I, said that Basil never cared about anything except art, then Basil replies that Dorian is all his art now. It shows that he recognized how shallow pure aesthetics were and learned to value what's actually sincere—love and devotion. This implies that when he met Dorian, he stopped being an artist—by his definition—and became a lover—a person who loves. All of what I've just said about Basil's romantic feelings might've just been "interpretation," if it weren't for the fact that in Chapter VII, he explicitly confesses his feelings for Dorian, using words like "romance" and "love," and that his devotion for Dorian was present in every stroke and lines in his painting. And before he confessed, he asked Dorian to sit in the light, while he remained in the dark—this is a metaphor for how he considers Dorian the light of his life, the one who made life beautiful for him, the one who gives his painting so much vivid emotion and colors. Meanwhile, Basil sitting in the dark shows how he's shameful for his feelings, he considers his love as "indecent," and he's always kept it a secret from everyone because it makes him repulsive in their perception. Light and dark are often associated with good and evil; he still sees Dorian as this saintly and pure-hearted man, meanwhile he sees himself as a "sinner," especially with the way homosexuality was criminalized in that time. Additionally, Lord Henry has acknowledged Basil's romance ever since Chapter I, calling him "faithful" because he sees love's pleasures.
Unfortunately, sincere and noble love doesn't survive in a society that prioritizes pleasure and indulgence. Basil's first mistake was at the very start of Chapter I, when he showed Lord Henry his painting of Dorian—Basil is perfectly aware of just how dangerously influential and capable Lord Henry is, however Basil is someone who sees good in everyone and believes all people are capable of change. He believed that Lord Henry never truly means what he says, because Lord Henry is someone who doesn't actively make immoral actions, he only moves using his words. Unfortunately, he was wrong. He soon realizes that Dorian is slowly turning into an entirely new person, that they're drifting further and further apart, that he'll inevitably lose the one person who makes life beautiful, and that things will never go back to the way they were. At the near end of Chapter II, he sadly refers to the painting as the "real Dorian"—because the portrait represents what Dorian was before Henry's influence; the innocent, pure, and sincere man. Basil grieved over someone who was still alive.
Chapter VII shows that he tried to rationalize his feelings. He says that he changed his mind and wanted to exhibit Dorian's portrait in Paris, because when the portrait left his studio—since he gave it to Dorian—he suddenly felt foolish for believing that he put anything of himself in it, that art actually conceals the artist more than it reveals him. This is a contradiction to his earlier fear—his art exposing his soul. This may seem like character development, but it is an absurdly big gap between what he feared and what he now believes in. He only started believing in it when the painting left his studio, when he didn't have to directly face his fear; there is something that humans tend to do when something they fear is no longer in front of them, they reframe it as imaginary. His belief is not insight, it's minimization. He retreats into theory and denies everything the painting held, because he didn't want to confront the reality of it. He says his fear was exaggerated to protect himself from the fact that others might've realized it. He's trying to re-enter the aesthetic ideology that artists shouldn't project themselves into their art. Actually, he already contradicted himself in this same chapter, before he confessed he asked Dorian if he noticed anything in the painting. This refers to, of course, his earlier belief that art exposes the artist, not the subject. So if he no longer believed in that, then why did he even bother asking Dorian if he saw anything in the art? Basil not only hides his feelings from others, but also from himself. He knew the truth about his identity, and he couldn't bear it.
In this same chapter he says he wants the Dorian he used to know, and kept asking if Dorian would be willing to be painted by him again. The word choice is crucial here, he doesn't want the Dorian he used to paint, he wants the Dorian he used to know. This connects to my idea that Basil painting Dorian is an expression of love, and the word "know" heavily implies intimacy and personal history. It was never about painting Dorian again, it was about reviving the relationship they had before everything went wrong. In fact it's mentioned in this chapter that Dorian's absence makes him miserable, and that he hasn't been able to paint as well as he used to. This further shows that deep down he did and would paint Dorian with love, even if he's in denial about it. In Chapter X, Basil begs Dorian to deny the rumors and scandals about him, meaning he'd unquestionably believe in Dorian's innocence no matter what everyone else says. Basil is someone who forces himself to believe in his loved ones' innocence not just for their sake, but also for his own sake. He genuinely couldn't bear the idea of Dorian falling into sin and depravity.
In Chapter VIII, when he ultimately found out that every rumor and scandal about Dorian was true, it caused him great distress, horrified at the idea that he worshiped him so tenderly. But it didn't make Dorian entirely repulsive in his eyes, in fact he urged Dorian towards the path of redemption, genuinely believing that he can change despite Dorian's protests. He never attempted to control Dorian's actions, never demanded anything from him, never tried to isolate him from Lord Henry—the most he did was entreat Dorian to pray and redeem himself. But he was the one punished for it, his pure and sincere love led to his tragic demise.
Dorian's Resentment Towards Basil and How it Doomed Him
Not enough people acknowledge how much Basil's death actually affected Dorian, with most people even claiming that he never felt guilty for it. Again, this just shows how much Dorian's character is reduced to his cruelty; his tragedy never properly seen, not just by the characters in the story but also the readers of the story.
Dorian never hated Basil, in fact it was him who noticed him first on their first meeting and believed they were destined to meet; they used to always see each other everyday and talk about a thousand things. Dorian appreciated Basil as a good friend and at times felt genuine sympathy for him. But something pushed Dorian to end Basil's life. It was Chapter XI, when Basil kept entreating him to repent, Dorian suddenly felt a spark of loathing towards him. The narrator explicitly describes this as "the mad passions of a hunted animal stirring in him," Dorian felt mentally violated and invaded by Basil, especially with the way Basil kept persisting. He felt cornered, suffocated, and overwhelmed. The situation triggered a fight-or-flight response, and he chose to fight. His extreme meltdown was intensified by the fact that he blames Basil for painting the portrait. He says that Basil made him vain, this is because his painting, in Chapter II, made him realize just how incredibly beautiful and lovely he actually was—Dorian never really paid any mind to his beauty and didn't care to maintain his looks, it's evident given the fact that he was comfortable with frowning and getting under the sun. He saw his own beauty for the first time and it awakened something in him. At first, he admired himself, but as time passed, the painting grew more and more repulsive and rotten, and so did his conscience. He felt that the painting mocked him—before, it mocked him because it would never fade and be consumed by old age, unlike him—now, it represented all of his sins and cruelty, it is a perfect depiction of just how twisted his soul became. He was intrigued and found delight in watching it warp while he remained unspoiled by ugliness, but at the same time he detested the cursed thing glaring at him.
The first time Dorian held Basil responsible was in Chapter VII, he blamed him for his suffering and vanity because Basil painted the dreadful portrait—that portrait that haunted his days and filled him with dread. He believed it was Basil who made him worship himself, even if unintentionally, to a harmful degree. Perhaps if Basil never painted that portrait, then he never would've wished for eternal youth at the cost of the painting bearing old age's burden, and if he never got eternal youth, then he would've been more mindful and sensible with his actions. The portrait made him love his beauty, now it made him loathe his soul. In this same chapter, when Basil mentioned wanting to see his soul, it terrified Dorian, then it made him feel bitterness and mania. The idea of someone sharing his horrible secret, especially Basil—the root of his torment, gave him a great sense of prideful madness. He wanted Basil to feel the same agony that he's been going through, to be burdened by shame and horror at what he had done. He succeeded, and it made him feel triumphant. But soon after, it became unbearable, so in an impulsive and frenzied manner, he takes Basil's life.
For a moment, he felt relief and a strange sense of calmness. In that moment nothing mattered except the fact that the friend who caused him pain was now gone. He felt peace, until the memories of the past haunted him—the memories of what happened that bloody night, and the memories of genuine happiness he felt with Basil (further explanation in Dorian's Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms). What's especially tragic is that he knew Basil could've saved him. He first acknowledged this in Chapter VIII, where he regretted not telling Basil his secret because Basil would've guided him towards redemption, he saw that Basil's love was sincere and noble, that it wasn't temporary like mere physical admiration. The tragedy is almost ironic, he laments the lost opportunity of Basil helping him redeem, but when the time finally came that Basil wanted to help him redeem, he became violent. It ties back to that line from Chapter VI; "When we blame ourselves we feel as if no one else has a right to blame us," Dorian was perfectly comfortable with feeling guilty for his sins and recognizing his wrongdoings, but he couldn't bear the fact of someone else having him confront it. Basil had him confront the weight of his actions and intruded something deeply personal and emotional within him. So Dorian took away the one and only person who could've saved him from sin and freed him from Lord Henry's temptation—only because he couldn't handle facing himself.
How Dorian Destroys Those Whom He Once Loved
Besides Basil, there were multiple other people who were friends or acquaintances with Dorian that ended up devastated in one way or another—three of which I will be talking about.
First, Sibyl Vane, first appearing in Chapter V; Dorian's first love, a beautiful actress who he described as a genius artist. Dorian fell in awe—not love—with Sibyl at first sight. Fell in fascination, fell in adoration, fell in worship, but not love, it's never love. He likens her to a songbird, to a little flower, but not as a breathing, living, feeling human. He loves her for what she makes him feel, for her atmosphere, for her presence. He is captivated beyond her beauty, he is captivated by how she acts, how she moves, how she sings; she is a breathing art piece. He loves her because actresses are unpredictable and beautiful. They are never their own person, they never stay in a finite identity, but instead they move from one role to the next. At first, he didn't even want to personally meet her, this is likely because he wants to love her in a shallow way. Once she stops being a figure of art and becomes a flawed and emotional person, she loses all appeal. He romanticizes the idea of her. So when she wanted to quit acting and live a new life with him, he became enraged and left her, which ultimately led to her poisoning herself.
Sibyl and Dorian are tragically incompatible. Sibyl's love for Dorian made her realize the shallowness, lack of emotion, and insincerity of acting; her love made her hate the stage and want to pursue reality, where all senses are genuine and speak their truth. But Dorian loved Sibyl because she understood the fictional world, the dreams of great poets, the magic of art, but now the fantasy is destroyed when she values the real, raw, and horribly sincere world over art. There are actually parallels between Basil's love for Dorian and Dorian's love for Sibyl; immense devotion at first sight, enriching one's life to the point it consumes them, and incredible worship. The only difference was that Basil actually loved Dorian for who he was while Dorian only loved Sibyl's aesthetics. Basil's painting of Dorian was actually the first time he painted Dorian without a costume—it was a simple portrait showing Dorian exactly as he is. That's one of the core reasons why it became Basil's masterpiece, exposed his soul, and made Dorian realize his beauty for the first time. It's yet again another contrast; Basil painted Dorian without a facade and it became his magnum opus, Sibyl wanted to abandon the facade and it made her repulsive in Dorian's eyes.
Second, Alan Campbell, first appearing in Chapter VII; one of Dorian's greatest friends whom he was once intimate with, until one day all warmth disappeared. Alan was a passionate and rational chemist who didn't care much for art, but what little appreciation he had for poetry came entirely from Dorian. They met through their shared passion for music, Alan was a good pianist and a great violinist, while Dorian was a great pianist—they were often at the Opera together. No one knew why they separated, but the narrator described Alan to become terribly melancholic and often locked himself in his laboratory. He came to hate listening to music, stopped playing the piano and violin, and became greatly absorbed in his experiments. And he avoids Dorian altogether. These are symptoms of depression—immense sadness, losing interest in things you once loved, isolation, avoidance, and deliberate distraction from the source of distress. The music reminded him of his time with Dorian, so he erased it as a part of himself and retreated into where Dorian was never interested in—science and chemistry—it's self-protection. In this chapter, Dorian was begging for his help with disposing of Basil's body, but Alan is very persistent in his decision and says nothing would ever convince him to help Dorian. So Dorian resorted to blackmail. The idea came so naturally and easily for Dorian, in fact he actually prepared the note before Alan arrived. This is clearly not the first time he's blackmailed someone, it suggests that this was one of the reasons why so many people who used to be close with him ended up in ruin, had their reputations tarnished, had to move far away, or end their own lives. And it was effective for Alan too, because in Chapter XIII it was revealed that he shot himself.
There's a popular theory among readers that Dorian's blackmail was about Alan being a homosexual, especially considering that the novella itself is written to be queer. The blackmail being about Alan's sexuality instead of some secret immoral action that he's done makes sense, Alan has never been the type of person to do something immoral that would stain his name—it's very evident in this chapter. It would explain the fact that Dorian felt genuine sympathy for him before and during the blackmail, Dorian was never really written to be someone disgusted at the thought of a man loving another man—given he felt the same sympathy when Basil confessed—and Dorian does care about people he was intimately acquainted with, albeit his questionably immoral decisions. There's a likely chance their separation had something to do with his queerness, and it's why it affected Alan so horribly and made him depressed. It'd also explain why no one knew about the reason for their separation, as they would've kept it a secret. What Dorian did was more than just blackmail; it's the threat of exposing something so dangerously intimate and vulnerable to you—identity, that your life would never be the same after that, that everyone would look at you and see someone repulsive and indecent. It's the threat of entirely destroying the person you were and turning you into someone else in everyone else's eyes.
Third, Hetty Merton, who never appeared but was mentioned in Chapter VIII; a country girl whom Dorian fell in love with. She embodied everything he lost—purity and innocence. She was just a simple girl in a village, nothing extraordinary about her, but she was everything to him. She didn't know who he was, what he's done, what the life he leads is, all she knew was that he seemed to be an incredibly good-hearted and beautiful boy. He adored her, and they had everything; it wasn't luxuries or riches, it was the simplicity and purity of love. They were supposed to run away together, until Dorian suddenly had a thought—he didn't want to corrupt her. If he married her, then he'd risk introducing her to his world, he'd expose her to the stain and rot of the world. So, without leaving even a word, he left her, as flower-like as she was. He thought he saved her, but her life was never the same after that—because her life ended. Dorian's portrait grew even more horrific and its bloodstains spreading were heavily implications to her tragic demise. Just when Dorian finally, genuinely, wanted to do one good thing for someone, he ruined them instead.
Dorian's Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
A person isn't naturally cruel, cold, or is lacking in compassion, more often than not it is something taught and integrated into them. Lord Henry has already taught Dorian about apathy, distractions, denial, rationalization—and the first time he applied this was in Chapter VII, Dorian deliberately avoids talking about Sibyl's tragedy and becomes very distressed whenever the topic is brought up. He forces himself to be indifferent for the sake of his mental stability and wants to make the most out of what Henry taught him. Deep down, in the trenches of his heart, he does mourn her, but the poison that Henry fed him has a far greater impact. His quote; "A man who is a master of himself can end a sorrow as easily as he can invent pleasure" suggests forcibly moving on by means of distraction. He uses pleasure and ecstasy to override sorrow and grief. Lord Henry taught him that it was a failure to be at the mercy of your own emotions, that you must take advantage of them and control them, not have them control you. Dorian did feel immense regret and guilt for the cruelty he treated Sibyl with, he genuinely wanted to make amends with her and love her properly, when he heard of her demise he was horrified and suffered-but Lord Henry arrived, and what did he tell Dorian? Using his poisonous words, he effectively minimized Sibyl's suffering by framing her as a resilient figure, and reframing Dorian as the victim who cannot handle misery. Dorian believed it, even though he recognized how much he made Sibyl suffer, no matter how much guilt consumed him, he believed it. It felt like salvation, but it just tightened the lock on his cage.
In Chapter XI, the morning after Dorian took Basil's life, the narrator explicitly states that he believed the secret of the whole thing was not to acknowledge the situation. He directs all focus onto multiple things in an attempt to distract himself from the gravity of what he had just done; he spends a longer time dressing than usual, paying particular attention to his rings, and he's more picky during breakfast than usual. It's explicitly narrated that he's determined to forget about what happened. After breakfast he leisurely doodled, until after some time he started to unconsciously draw Basil's face. So he immediately stopped drawing and read a book instead. He read a lovely and sensual poem about Venice, reminding him of when he went there and how much romance that place had. He was actually starting to relax at that point... until he remembered that Basil was with him at that time, then he felt sympathy, before trying to retreat into oblivion and continued reading.
In Chapter VIII, Dorian says it's too late for redemption, that the past could always be annihilated with denial and forgetfulness—he is quite literally admitting to himself how he copes, in a terribly self-annihilating way. Additionally, he genuinely believes his future is inevitable and pre-determined, that his desires would always find their terrible outlet, that there's no hope for redemption. He's simultaneously so hopeful but also so hopeless, it's tragically ironic. Actually, there's multiple instances wherein Dorian says it's "too late," so he just continues living as he does, without regard for repentance, until he's destroyed so many lives to the point the damage has become irreversible. He only allowed himself to feel completely guilty for Hetty's death, because at this point he was completely conscious of his sin and loathed himself. There was no longer an illusion he could hide behind, no lie he could tell himself, no distraction he could use. Dorian was never a cold-hearted or cruel man, he was genuinely kind and felt deep sympathy for those who suffered, but his artistic beliefs clash with his human morals. The contradiction is unbearable for him, he forces himself into a neat little box, the one Lord Henry taught him—to unapologetically live, to treat life as your personal piece of art, to indulge in every vice and pleasure until you've experienced everything. But deep down, it's not who he is, he wanted to help people, he wanted to do good, he wanted to feel sincere joy without the superficiality behind it, he wanted to love. He could never admit it to himself though, it would be to acknowledge that he's been living in a lie this entire time, and to be forced into confrontation. So he copes, horribly—the person he deceived most was himself.
How The Novellas' Ending Was Foreshadowed
The novella ended with Dorian's demise-he intended to destroy the portrait, so he stabbed the canvas, but the blade went through his heart instead. The curse was undone, the portrait went back to his beautiful and lovely self, while Dorian himself became hideous and aged. In Chapter 1, when Basil attempts to destroy the painting, Dorian stops him and says it would be murder, that it's a part of himself and he loves it. Well, Dorian was correct... but in more ways than one—the portrait used to embody his beauty, now it embodied his sin. A glaring, mocking, cruel manifestation of his sin. Destroying the painting was murder, literally. There is also my previous point from Chapter II when Basil called the painting the "real Dorian." Before, it was because the painting represented what Dorian was before he lost his innocence and goodness. But now, it is the real Dorian, as it shows what he actually looks like beneath the lies; old age marring his skin, cruel lines across his face, the glare of corruption in its eyes, the specks of blood. Additionally, in that same chapter, Dorian said he'd end his own life once he becomes hideous. Hideousness was never about his physical appearance, it was his moral decay and the rotting of his own soul. The painting became hideous because it was burdened by his sins, so he "murders" it, ultimately ending his own life in the process. Dorian believed that by destroying the painting, he would become free. He was correct, just not in the way he thought.
CONCLUSION
Despite Dorian's evident character development, as shown in the final chapter, he was ultimately doomed by the narrative from the very beginning. He's a tragic figure and is an excellent representation on how a sinful person doesn't just annihilate the people around them, but also themselves. The novella shows that corruption doesn't just start out of nowhere, it is carefully curated and incubated until it metamorphoses into something dreadful, that even some of the purest hearts can be led astray. It also shows that mere guilt and acknowledgement of wrongdoing is not enough to save a sinner, that true redemption is a long process rather than a singular moment; it requires a deliberate and active desire to change for the better. The path to improvement is something that is long and painstaking, but is ultimately worth it at the very end. To live to the fullest isn't just to live a life of luxury, indulgence, and extravagance—it's a life of sincerity, kindness, and nobleness. Some people seem to overlook just how crucial it is for a person to be pure-hearted, labeling it as a cliche. So this novella deviated from the usual "happy ending and redemption" and gave the ugly truth, the truth of what would happen if you give yourself away for the sake of momentary pleasure and ecstasy, the truth of how even the simplest joys are enough to make life complete. Some people become so fixated on not spoiling and wasting their life, that they end up unknowingly spoiling and wasting their soul in the process.