Imagery
I have to go back to the beginning, to the very first page of chapter one where the author says, "The studio was filled with the rich odor of roses, and when the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden, there came through the open door the heavy scent of the lilac, or the most delicate perfume of the pink-flowering thorn."
My, my, my, how I loved opening to this. What a beginning! I loved it the second I read it! I also love how, in a way, it's irony and foreshadowing because it kind of sets up Dorian, how sweet and lovely he is, but it says nothing of how he turns. That is, until the studio is re-described as stuffy and unbearable by Dorian and Henry. I love how the studio represents the story as a whole and Dorian, and I love the fact that the author decided to begin with this!
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Historical Context
Social status, rich and poor, is the biggest thing I noticed. The situation hit close to home, and I hate how terrible people can be, claiming to be better than someone simply because they have some extra money. And how horrible to look down upon a union of true love, even if they are not of the same class. What should money matter so long as you are happy and with the one you love!
I could not believe how Dorian let Sybil go, as if she had never meant anything to him. I said this in a comment already, but I was practically in tears after the engagement had been broken. I wanted to leap into the book and slap him silly!
I could not believe how Dorian let Sybil go, as if she had never meant anything to him. I said this in a comment already, but I was practically in tears after the engagement had been broken. I wanted to leap into the book and slap him silly!
Elements of Romance
Of course, I must talk about Dorian and Sybil's relationship. However, neither side of the relationship was true love. He was only a fan, not a lover, and she, that poor girl, was caught up in a web of lust and innocent ignorance. They both were, really.
This relationship not only develops the character of Dorian Gray, but the plot as a whole. I believe this is included to show the significance of Lord Henry's effects on Dorian. He is changing him completely, into someone he never would have been before. He seems heartless after Sybil's death, hardly caring, when just a matter of days before, he worshipped the ground she walked on. It's rather annoying, actually, the way the two ended up.
This relationship not only develops the character of Dorian Gray, but the plot as a whole. I believe this is included to show the significance of Lord Henry's effects on Dorian. He is changing him completely, into someone he never would have been before. He seems heartless after Sybil's death, hardly caring, when just a matter of days before, he worshipped the ground she walked on. It's rather annoying, actually, the way the two ended up.
Dorian Gray-Literary Element
Characterization-Lord Henry Wotton
Oscar Wilde certainly spent alot of time on this charater. He has much to say and people have much to say about him, which really creates his character. In my opinion, he is all talk and no walk, and all of his ideas are twisted and warped. Of course, that may just be me, but my opinion is very similar to that of Basil's. He states on page 18, "He has a very bad influence over all his friends, with the single exception of myself." While Dorian's view of him is awe-filled and overwhelmed. This shows he is very manipulative and clever, and often molds people to think as he would. I do not agree with most of what he says in the book, but I can see where he is coming from.
Oscar Wilde certainly spent alot of time on this charater. He has much to say and people have much to say about him, which really creates his character. In my opinion, he is all talk and no walk, and all of his ideas are twisted and warped. Of course, that may just be me, but my opinion is very similar to that of Basil's. He states on page 18, "He has a very bad influence over all his friends, with the single exception of myself." While Dorian's view of him is awe-filled and overwhelmed. This shows he is very manipulative and clever, and often molds people to think as he would. I do not agree with most of what he says in the book, but I can see where he is coming from.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
The Grip(chapter 21)
Today is the end of it all.
I take a walk on the beach towards the evening, around the time of the sunset.
As I look out to the horizon, the awesome beauty of nature, I see a small boat.
There is one single occupant.
He is large, too large to be normal.
The boat reaches the shore and the man steps out of the boat.
He is hideous, but I, the naturally delightful man I am, walk up to greet him.
I tell him my name, and ask him of his, but he suddenly becomes enraged, for no apparent reason.
His eyes are like two pieces of glass, freshly pulled from the kiln, bright and full of fire.
I am terrified, too terrified to run.
He grips my neck in his cold, hard, gigantic hands, and squeezes.
I can feel myself losing consciousness.
I cannot fight him off.
He mumbles angrily, and I can make out only a few words.
I hear words like Frankenstein, creator, revenge, and traitor.
Could this be the being Victor seemed to have been afraid of?
But why would my friend know of a creature as terrible as this and not tell a soul?
Did he know of this moment?
Was Victor wanting me dead?
NO.
No, I would not think of that.
I know I am on the brink of death.
I refuse to end my life accusing my dearest friend of the impossible, horrible scenario I had just created.
I feel the rock-like hands grip tighter and tighter.
I feel the life leaving my body.
My hearing fades out first.
Next my sight fails me.
My last sight is the disgusting yellow eyes and pale grotesque features of my murderer's face.
Now all I see is black, and I think, "This is it."
What else can I do?
I am practically dead.
I finally give up the struggle I had been putting up until now.
My plans, my bright future, is gone.
The full life I had ahead of me has vanished.
All is lost.
I breathe my last.
My soul leaves my body, and as I float upward, I see my murderer drop me on the sand and leave.
He simply sails off, and my death is not avenged, not even known of.
Perhaps Victor did know of that monster.
Hopefully when he hears of my death, he will avenge me.
It is no longer my worry, however.
I am moving on to better things.
-Henry Clerval
I take a walk on the beach towards the evening, around the time of the sunset.
As I look out to the horizon, the awesome beauty of nature, I see a small boat.
There is one single occupant.
He is large, too large to be normal.
The boat reaches the shore and the man steps out of the boat.
He is hideous, but I, the naturally delightful man I am, walk up to greet him.
I tell him my name, and ask him of his, but he suddenly becomes enraged, for no apparent reason.
His eyes are like two pieces of glass, freshly pulled from the kiln, bright and full of fire.
I am terrified, too terrified to run.
He grips my neck in his cold, hard, gigantic hands, and squeezes.
I can feel myself losing consciousness.
I cannot fight him off.
He mumbles angrily, and I can make out only a few words.
I hear words like Frankenstein, creator, revenge, and traitor.
Could this be the being Victor seemed to have been afraid of?
But why would my friend know of a creature as terrible as this and not tell a soul?
Did he know of this moment?
Was Victor wanting me dead?
NO.
No, I would not think of that.
I know I am on the brink of death.
I refuse to end my life accusing my dearest friend of the impossible, horrible scenario I had just created.
I feel the rock-like hands grip tighter and tighter.
I feel the life leaving my body.
My hearing fades out first.
Next my sight fails me.
My last sight is the disgusting yellow eyes and pale grotesque features of my murderer's face.
Now all I see is black, and I think, "This is it."
What else can I do?
I am practically dead.
I finally give up the struggle I had been putting up until now.
My plans, my bright future, is gone.
The full life I had ahead of me has vanished.
All is lost.
I breathe my last.
My soul leaves my body, and as I float upward, I see my murderer drop me on the sand and leave.
He simply sails off, and my death is not avenged, not even known of.
Perhaps Victor did know of that monster.
Hopefully when he hears of my death, he will avenge me.
It is no longer my worry, however.
I am moving on to better things.
-Henry Clerval
The Last Letter(chapter 20)
When Victor and I departed from each other, the journey automatically became less exciting. What is happiness if it is not shared with a friend? I have been "wearing time away fruitlessly" here, and I cannot wait to see my dear Victor again. I miss him greatly.
Today I sent him a letter, telling him these feelings as well as news of what I have been doing in his absence. Our companions from London have contacted me to ask that I return to them. They wish to help me with my quest to India! How exciting to know that I am at the threshold of accomplishing my goal!
I asked Victor to return to Perth so that we may make our way to London together. I eagerly await his reply, as well as news from my incredible friends from London! I am beyond eager to begin my work, I can hardly contain my excitement. I have so much life ahead of me, so much to offer the world, I wish I could begin already!
Today I sent him a letter, telling him these feelings as well as news of what I have been doing in his absence. Our companions from London have contacted me to ask that I return to them. They wish to help me with my quest to India! How exciting to know that I am at the threshold of accomplishing my goal!
I asked Victor to return to Perth so that we may make our way to London together. I eagerly await his reply, as well as news from my incredible friends from London! I am beyond eager to begin my work, I can hardly contain my excitement. I have so much life ahead of me, so much to offer the world, I wish I could begin already!
On the Way to Perth...(End of Chapter 19)
Throughout the course of our journey, Victor has seemed...paranoid, scared even. He always seems to be watching out for someone or something as if some beast will leap out at any moment and attack. He has been beyond anxious to recieve word from his family in Geneva, but when the letters arrive, he seems almost terrified to open and read them. I can't seem to figure him out. I often catch him glancing over his shoulder, or walking a little closer to me, as if to protect me. There has been occasions where the man went days without letting me alone. It has been quite peculiar, but I did not mention it to Victor. I suppose he is simply still experiencing strange emotions due to William's death. Oh, my poor, delusional friend! If only he'd return to normal!
I must add, though, that things became even more bizarre when we had almost reached Perth, Scotland. Victor suggested that he and I go our seperate ways for a few months to experience things on our own. I did not believe that story for one moment! I protested his plans, but my friend is as strong as an ox when he's got his mind set to something. I'm worried of what may come, I have a bad feeling about our separation. Perhaps I am just frightened I will be lonely, or I could be cautious of what knowledge Victor possesses. He obviously knows something I don't. Then again, I may just be worried for his safety. Either way, I simply cannot rest nor enjoy my trip until he is with me again.
I must add, though, that things became even more bizarre when we had almost reached Perth, Scotland. Victor suggested that he and I go our seperate ways for a few months to experience things on our own. I did not believe that story for one moment! I protested his plans, but my friend is as strong as an ox when he's got his mind set to something. I'm worried of what may come, I have a bad feeling about our separation. Perhaps I am just frightened I will be lonely, or I could be cautious of what knowledge Victor possesses. He obviously knows something I don't. Then again, I may just be worried for his safety. Either way, I simply cannot rest nor enjoy my trip until he is with me again.
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