高中英语 The Picture of Dorian Gray道林格雷的画像课外阅读

ThePictureofDorianGray道林·格雷的画像OSCARWILDE奥斯卡·王尔德byOscarWildeCHAPTER1Thestudiowasfilledwiththerichodourofroses,andwhenthelightsummerwindstirredamidstthetreesofthegarden,therecamethroughtheopendoortheheavyscentofthelilac,orthemoredelicateperfumeofthepink-floweringthorn.FromthecornerofthedivanofPersiansaddle-bagsonwhichhewaslying,smoking,aswashiscustom,innumerablecigarettes,LordHenryWottoncouldjustcatchthegleamofthehoney-sweetandhoney-colouredblossomsofalaburnum,whosetremulousbranchesseemedhardlyabletobeartheburdenofabeautysoflamelikeastheirs;andnowandthenthefantasticshadowsofbirdsinflightflittedacrossthelongtussore-silkcurtainsthatwerestretchedinfrontofthehugewindow,producingakindofmomentaryJapaneseeffect,andmakinghimthinkofthosepallid,jade-facedpaintersofTokyo,roughthemediumofanartthatisnecessarilyimmobile,seektoconveythesenseofswiftnessandmotion.Thesullenmurmurofthebeesshoulderingtheirwaythroughthelongunmowngrass,orcirclingwithmonotonousinsistenceroundthedustygilthornsofthestragglingwoodbine,seemedtomakethestillnessmoreoppressive.ThedimroarofLondonwaslikethebourdonnoteofadistantorgan.Inthecentreoftheroom,clampedtoanuprighteasel,stoodthefull-lengthportraitofayoungmanofextraordinarypersonalbeauty,andinfrontofit,somelittledistanceaway,wassittingtheartisthimself,BasilHallward,whosesuddendisappearancesomeyearsagocaused,atthetime,suchpublicexcitementandgaverisetosomanystrangeconjectures.Asthepainterlookedatthegraciousandcomelyformhehadsoskilfullymirroredinhisart,asmileofpleasurepassedacrosshisface,andseemedabouttolingerthere.Buthesuddenlystartedup,andclosinghiseyes,lacedhisfingersuponthelids,asthoughhesoughttoimprisonwithinhisbrainsomecuriousdreamfromwhichhefearedhemightawake."Itisyourbestwork,Basil,thebestthingyouhaveeverdone,"saidLordHenrylanguidly."YoumustcertainlysenditnextyeartotheGrosvenor.TheAcademyistoolargeandtoovulgar.WheneverIhavegonethere,therehavebeeneithersomanypeoplethatIhavenotbeenabletoseethepictures,whichwasdreadful,orsomanypicturesthatIhavenotbeenabletoseethepeople,whichwasworse.TheGrosvenorisreallytheonlyplace.""Idon'tthinkIshallsenditanywhere,"heanswered,tossinghisheadbackinthatoddwaythatusedtomakehisfriendslaughathimatOxford."No,Iwon'tsenditanywhere."LordHenryelevatedhiseyebrowsandlookedathiminamazementthroughthethinbluewreathsofsmokethatcurledupinsuchfancifulwhorlsfromhisheavy,opium-taintedcigarette."Notsenditanywhere?Mydearfellow,why?Haveyouanyreason?Whatoddchapsyoupaintersare!Youdoanythingintheworldtogainareputation.Assoonasyouhaveone,youseemtowanttothrowitaway.Itissillyofyou,forthereisonlyonethingintheworldworsethanbeingtalkedabout,andthatisnotbeingtalkedabout.AportraitlikethiswouldsetyoufarabovealltheyoungmeninEngland,andmaketheoldmenquitejealous,ifoldmenareevercapableofanyemotion.""Iknowyouwilllaughatme,"hereplied,"butIreallycan'texhibitit.Ihaveputtoomuchofmyselfintoit."LordHenrystretchedhimselfoutonthedivanandlaughed."Yes,Iknewyouwould;butitisquitetrue,allthesame.""Toomuchofyourselfinit!Uponmyword,Basil,Ididn'tknowyouweresovain;andIreallycan'tseeanyresemblancebetweenyou,withyourruggedstrongfaceandyourcoal-blackhair,andthisyoungAdonis,wholooksasifhewasmadeoutofivoryandrose-leaves.Why,mydearBasil,heisaNarcissus,andyou--well,ofcourseyouhaveanintellectualressionandallthat.Butbeauty,realbeauty,endswhereanintellectualexpressionbegins.Intellectisinitselfamodeofexaggeration,anddestroystheharmonyofanyface.Themomentonesitsdowntothink,onebecomesallnose,orallforehead,orsomethinghorrid.Lookatthesuccessfulmeninanyofthelearnedprofessions.Howperfectlyhideoustheyare!Except,ofcourse,intheChurch.ButthenintheChurchtheydon'tthink.Abishopkeepsonsayingattheageofeightywhathewastoldtosaywhenhewasaboyofeighteen,andasanaturalconsequencehealwayslooksabsolutelydelightful.Yourmysteriousyoungfriend,whosenameyouhavenevertoldme,butwhosepicturereallyfascinatesme,neverthinks.Ifeelquitesureofthat.Heissomebrainlessbeautifulcreaturewhoshouldbealwayshereinwinterwhenwehavenoflowerstolookat,andalwayshereinsummerwhenwewantsomethingtochillourintelligence.Don'tflatteryourself,Basil:youarenotintheleastlikehim.""Youdon'tunderstandme,Harry,"answeredtheartist."OfcourseIamnotlikehim.Iknowthatperfectlywell.Indeed,Ishouldbesorrytolooklikehim.Youshrugyourshoulders?Iamtellingyouthetruth.Thereisafatalityaboutallphysicalandintellectualdistinction,thesortoffatalitythatseemstodogthroughstorythefalteringstepsofkings.Itisbetternottobedifferentfromone'sfellows.Theuglyandthestupidhavethebestofitinthisworld.Theycansitattheireaseandgapeattheplay.Iftheyknownothingofvictory,theyareatleastsparedtheknowledgeofdefeat.Theyliveasweallshouldbe--undisturbed,ndifferent,andwithoutdisquiet.Theyneitherbringruinuponothers,noreverreceiveitfromalienhands.Yourrankandwealth,Harry;mybrains,suchastheyare--myart,whateveritmaybeworth;DorianGray'sgoodlooks--weshallallsufferforwhatthegodshavegivenus,sufferterribly.""DorianGray?Isthathisname?"askedLordHenry,walkingacrossthestudiotowardsBasilHallward."Yes,thatishisname.Ididn'tintendtotellittoyou.""Butwhynot?""Oh,Ican'texplain.WhenIlikepeopleimmensely,Inevertelltheirnamestoanyone.Itislikesurrenderingapartofthem.Ihavegrowntolovesecrecy.Itseemstobetheonethingthatcanmakemodernlifemysteriousormarvelloustous.Thecommonestthingisdelightfulifoneonlyhidesit.WhenIleavetownnowInevertellmypeoplewhereIamgoing.IfIdid,Iwouldloseallmypleasure.Itisasillyhabit,Idaresay,butsomehowitseemstobringagreatdealofromanceintoone'slife.Isupposeyouthinkmeawfullyfoolishaboutit?""Notatall,"answeredLordHenry,"notatall,mydearBasil.YouseemtoforgetthatIammarried,andtheonecharmofmarriageisthatitmakesalifeofdeceptionabsolutelynecessaryforbothparties.Ineverknowwheremywifeis,andmywifeneverknowswhatIamdoing.Whenwemeet--wedomeetoccasionally,whenwedineouttogether,orgodowntotheDuke's--wetelleachotherthemostabsurdstorieswiththemostseriousfaces.Mywifeisverygoodatit--muchbetter,infact,thanIam.Shenevergetsconfusedoverherdates,andIalwaysdo.Butwhenshedoesfindmeout,shemakesnorowatall.Isometimeswishshewould;butshemerelylaughsatme.""Ihatethewayyoutalkaboutyourmarriedlife,Harry,"saidBasilHallward,strollingtowardsthedoorthatledintothegarden."Ibelievethatyouarereallyaverygoodhusband,butthatyouarethoroughlyashamedofyourownvirtues.Youareanextraordinaryfellow.Youneversayamoralthing,andyouneverdoawrongthing.Yourcynicismissimplyapose.""Beingnaturalissimplyapose,andthemostirritatingposeIknow,"criedLordHenry,laughing;andthetwoyoungmenwentoutintothegardentogetherandensconcedthemselvesonalongbambooseatthatstoodintheshadeofatalllaurelbush.Thesunlightslippedoverthepolishedleaves.Inthegrass,whitedaisiesweretremulous.Afterapause,LordHenrypulledouthiswatch."IamafraidImustbegoing,Basil,"hemurmured,"andbeforeIgo,IinsistonyouransweringaquestionIputtoyousometimeago.""Whatisthat?"saidthepainter,keepinghiseyesfixedontheground."Youknowquitewell.""Idonot,Harry.""Well,Iwilltellyouwhatitis.Iwantyoutoexplaintomewhyyouwon'texhibitDorianGray'spicture.Iwanttherealreason.""Itoldyoutherealreason.""No,youdidnot.Yousaiditwasbecausetherewastoomuchofyourselfinit.Now,thatischildish.""Harry,"saidBasilHallward,lookinghimstraightintheface,"everyportraitthatispaintedwithfeelingisaportraitoftheartist,notofthesitter.Thesitterismerelytheaccident,theoccasion.Itisnothewhoisrevealedbythepainter;itisratherthepainterwho,onthecolouredcanvas,revealshimself.ThereasonIwillnotexhibitthispictureisthatIamafraidthatIhaveshowninitthesecretofmyownsoul."LordHenrylaughed."Andwhatisthat?"heasked."Iwilltellyou,"saidHallward;butanexpressionofperplexitycameoverhisface."Iamallexpectation,Basil,"continuedhiscompanion,glancingathim."Oh,thereisreallyverylittletotell,Harry,"answeredthepainter;"andIamafraidyouwillhardlyunderstandit.Perhapsyouwillhardlybelieveit."LordHenrysmiled,andleaningdown,pluckedapink-petalleddaisyfromthegrassandexaminedit."IamquitesureIshallunderstandit,"hereplied,gazingintentlyatthelittlegolden,white-feathereddisk,"andasforbelievingthings,Icanbelieveanything,providedthatitisquiteincredible."Thewindshooksomeblossomsfromthetrees,andtheheavylilac-blooms,withtheirclusteringstars,movedtoandfrointhelanguidair.Agrasshopperbegantochirrupbythewall,andlikeabluethreadalongthindragon-flyfloatedpastonitsbrowngauzewings.LordHenryfeltasifhecouldhearBasilHallward'sheartbeating,andwonderedwhatwascoming."Thestoryissimplythis,"saidthepainteraftersometime."TwomonthsagoIwenttoacrushatLadyBrandon's.Youknowwepoorartistshavetoshowourselvesinsocietyfromtimetotime,justtoremindthepublicthatwearenotsavages.Withaneveningcoatandawhitetie,asyoutoldmeonce,anybody,evenastock-broker,cangainareputationforbeingcivilized.Well,afterIhadbeenintheroomabouttenminutes,talkingtohugeoverdresseddowagersandtediousemicians,Isuddenlybecameconsciousthatsomeonewaslookingatme.Iturnedhalf-wayroundandsawDorianGrayforthefirsttime.Whenoureyesmet,IfeltthatIwasgrowingpale.Acurioussensationofterrorcameoverme.IknewthatIhadcomefacetofacewithsomeonewhosemerepersonalitywassofascinatingthat,ifIallowedittodoso,itwouldabsorbmywholenature,mywholesoul,myveryartitself.Ididnotwantanyexternalinfluenceinmylife.Youknowyourself,Harry,howindependentIambynature.Ihavealwaysbeenmyownmaster;hadatleastalwaysbeenso,tillImetDorianGray.Then--butIdon'tknowhowtoexplainittoyou.SomethingseemedtotellmethatIwasonthevergeofaterriblecrisisinmylife.Ihadastrangefeelingthatfatehadinstoreformeexquisitejoysandexquisitesorrows.Igrewafraidandturnedtoquittheroom.Itwasnotconsciencethatmademedoso:itwasasortofcowardice.Itakenocredittomyselffortryingtoescape.""Conscienceandcowardicearereallythesamethings,Basil.Conscienceisthetrade-nameofthefirm.Thatisall.""Idon'tbelievethat,Harry,andIdon'tbelieveyoudoeither.However,whateverwasmymotive--anditmayhavebeenpride,forIusedtobeveryproud--Icertainlystruggledtothedoor.There,ofcourse,IstumbledagainstLadyBrandon.'Youarenotgoingtorunawaysosoon,Mr.Hallward?'shescreamedout.Youknowhercuriouslyshrillvoice?""Yes;sheisapeacockineverythingbutbeauty,"saidLordHenry,pullingthedaisytobitswithhislongnervousfingers."Icouldnotgetridofher.Shebroughtmeuptoroyalties,andpeoplewithstarsandgarters,andelderlyladieswithgigantictiarasandparrotnoses.Shespokeofmeasherdearestfriend.Ihadonlymetheroncebefore,butshetookitintoherheadtolionizeme.Ibelievesomepictureofminehadmadeagreatsuccessatthetime,atleasthadbeenchatteredaboutinthepennynewspapers,whichisthenineteenth-centurystandardofimmortality.SuddenlyIfoundmyselffacetofacewiththeyoungmanwhosepersonalityhadsostrangelystirredme.Wewerequiteclose,almosttouching.Oureyesmetagain.Itwasrecklessofme,butIaskedLadyBrandontointroducemetohim.Perhapsitwasnotsoreckless,afterall.Itwassimplyinevitable.Wewouldhavespokentoeachotherwithoutanyintroduction.Iamsureofthat.Doriantoldmesoafterwards.He,too,feltthatweweredestinedtoknoweachother.""AndhowdidLadyBrandondescribethiswonderfulyoungman?"askedhiscompanion."Iknowshegoesinforgivingarapidprecisofallherguests.Irememberherbringingmeuptoatruculentandred-facedoldgentlemancoveredalloverwithordersandribbons,andhissingintomyear,inatragicwhisperwhichmusthavebeenperfectlyaudibletoeverybodyintheroom,themostastoundingdetails.Isimplyfled.Iliketofindoutpeopleformyself.ButLadyBrandontreatsherguestsexactlyasanauctioneertreatshisgoods.Sheeitherexplainsthementirelyaway,ortellsoneeverythingaboutthemexceptwhatonewantstoknow.""PoorLadyBrandon!Youarehardonher,Harry!"saidHallwardlistlessly."Mydearfellow,shetriedtofoundasalon,andonlysucceededinopeningarestaurant.HowcouldIadmireher?Buttellme,whatdidshesayaboutMr.DorianGray?""Oh,somethinglike,'Charmingboy--poordearmotherandIabsolutelyinseparable.Quiteforgetwhathedoes--afraidhe--doesn'tdoanything--oh,yes,playsthepiano--orisitheviolin,dearMr.Gray?'Neitherofuscouldhelpaughing,andwebecamefriendsatonce.""Laughterisnotatallabadbeginningforafriendship,anditisfarthebestendingforone,"saidtheyounglord,pluckinganotherdaisy.Hallwardshookhishead."Youdon'tunderstandwhatfriendshipis,Harry,"hemurmured--"orwhatenmityis,forthatmatter.Youlikeeveryone;thatistosay,youareindifferenttoeveryone.""Howhorriblyunjustofyou!"criedLordHenry,tiltinghishatbackandlookingupatthelittlecloudsthat,likeravelledskeinsofglossywhitesilk,weredriftingacrossthehollowedturquoiseofthesummersky."Yes;horriblyunjustofyou.Imakeagreatdifferencebetweenpeople.Ichoosemyfriendsfortheirgoodlooks,myacquaintancesfortheirgoodcharacters,andmyenemiesfortheirgoodintellects.Amancannotbetoocarefulinthechoiceofhisenemies.Ihavenotgotonewhoisafool.Theyareallmenofsomeintellectualpower,andconsequentlytheyallappreciateme.Isthatveryvainofme?Ithinkitisrathervain.""Ishouldthinkitwas,Harry.ButaccordingtoyourcategoryImustbemerelyanacquaintance.""MydearoldBasil,youaremuchmorethananacquaintance.""Andmuchlessthanafriend.Asortofbrother,Isuppose?""Oh,brothers!Idon'tcareforbrothers.Myelderbrotherwon'tdie,andmyyoungerbrothersseemnevertodoanythingelse.""Harry!"exclaimedHallward,frowning."Mydearfellow,Iamnotquiteserious.ButIcan'thelpdetestingmyrelations.Isupposeitcomesfromthefactthatnoneofuscanstandotherpeoplehavingthesamefaultsasourselves.IquitesympathizewiththerageoftheEnglishdemocracyagainstwhattheycallthevicesoftheupperorders.Themassesfeelthatdrunkenness,stupidity,andimmoralityshouldbetheirownspecialproperty,andthatifanyoneofusmakesanassofhimself,heispoachingontheirpreserves.WhenpoorSouthwarkgotintothedivorcecourt,theirindignationwasquitemagnificent.AndyetIdon'tsupposethattenpercentoftheproletariatlivecorrectly.""Idon'tagreewithasinglewordthatyouhavesaid,and,whatismore,Harry,Ifeelsureyoudon'teither."LordHenrystrokedhispointedbrownbeardandtappedthetoeofhispatent-leatherbootwithatasselledebonycane."HowEnglishyouareBasil!Thatisthesecondtimeyouhavemadethatobservation.IfoneputsforwardanideatoatrueEnglishman--alwaysarashthingtodo--heneverdreamsofconsideringwhethertheideaisrightorwrong.Theonlythingheconsidersofanyimportanceiswhetheronebelievesitoneself.Now,thevalueofanideahasnothingwhatsoevertodowiththesincerityofthemanwhoexpressesit.Indeed,theprobabilitiesarethatthemoreinsincerethemanis,themorepurelyintellectualwilltheideabe,asinthatcaseitwillnotbecolouredbyeitherhiswants,hisdesires,orhisprejudices.However,Idon'tproposetodiscusspolitics,sociology,ormetaphysicswithyou.Ilikepersonsbetterthanprinciples,andIlikepersonswithnoprinciplesbetterthananythingelseintheworld.TellmemoreaboutMr.DorianGray.Howoftendoyouseehim?""Everyday.Icouldn'tbehappyifIdidn'tseehimeveryday.Heisabsolutelynecessarytome.""Howextraordinary!Ithoughtyouwouldnevercareforanythingbutyourart.""Heisallmyarttomenow,"saidthepaintergravely."Isometimesthink,Harry,thatthereareonlytwoerasofanyimportanceintheworld'shistory.Thefirstistheappearanceofanewmediumforart,andthesecondistheappearanceofanewpersonalityforartalso.Whattheinventionofoil-paintingwastotheVenetians,thefaceofAntinouswastolateGreeksculpture,andthefaceofDorianGraywillsomedaybetome.ItisnotmerelythatIpaintfromhim,drawfromhim,sketchfromhim.Ofcourse,Ihavedoneallthat.Butheismuchmoretomethanamodelorasitter.Iwon'ttellyouthatIamdissatisfiedwithwhatIhavedoneofhim,orthathisbeautyissuchthatartcannotexpressit.Thereisnothingthatartcannotexpress,andIknowthattheworkIhavedone,sinceImetDorianGray,isgoodwork,isthebestworkofmylife.Butinsomecuriousway--Iwonderwillyouunderstandme?--hispersonalityhassuggestedtomeanentirelynewmannerinart,anentirelynewmodeofstyle.Iseethingsdifferently,Ithinkofthemdifferently.Icannowrecreatelifeinawaythatwashiddenfrommebefore.'Adreamofformindaysofthought'--whoisitwhosaysthat?Iforget;butitiswhatDorianGrayhasbeentome.Themerelyvisiblepresenceofthislad--forheseemstomelittlemorethanalad,thoughheisreallyovertwenty--hismerelyvisiblepresence--ah!Iwondercanyourealizeallthatthatmeans?Unconsciouslyhedefinesformethelinesofafreshschool,aschoolthatistohaveinitallthepassionoftheromanticspirit,alltheperfectionofthespiritthatisGreek.Theharmonyofsoulandbody--howmuchthatis!Weinourmadnesshaveseparatedthetwo,andhaveinventedarealismthatisvulgar,anidealitythatisvoid.Harry!ifyouonlyknewwhatDorianGrayistome!Yourememberthatlandscapeofmine,forwhichAgnewofferedmesuchahugepricebutwhichIwouldnotpartwith?ItisoneofthebestthingsIhaveeverdone.Andwhyisitso?Because,whileIwaspaintingit,DorianGraysatesideme.Somesubtleinfluencepassedfromhimtome,andforthefirsttimeinmylifeIsawintheplainwoodlandthewonderIhadalwayslookedforandalwaysmissed.""Basil,thisisextraordinary!ImustseeDorianGray."Hallwardgotupfromtheseatandwalkedupanddownthegarden.Aftersometimehecameback."Harry,"hesaid,"DorianGrayistomesimplyamotiveinart.Youmightseenothinginhim.Iseeeverythinginhim.Heisnevermorepresentinmyworkthanwhennoimageofhimisthere.Heisasuggestion,asIhavesaid,ofanewmanner.Ifindhiminthecurvesofcertainlines,inthelovelinessandsubtletiesofcertaincolours.Thatisall.""Thenwhywon'tyouexhibithisportrait?"askedLordHenry."Because,withoutintendingit,Ihaveputintoitsomeexpressionofallthiscuriousartisticidolatry,ofwhich,ofcourse,Ihavenevercaredtospeaktohim.Heknowsnothingaboutit.Heshallneverknowanythingaboutit.Buttheworldmightguessit,andIwillnotbaremysoultotheirshallowpryingeyes.Myheartshallneverbeputundertheirmicroscope.Thereistoomuchofmyselfinthething,Harry--toomuchofmyself!""Poetsarenotsoscrupulousasyouare.Theyknowhowusefulpassionisforpublication.Nowadaysabrokenheartwillruntomanyeditions.""Ihatethemforit,"criedHallward."Anartistshouldcreatebeautifulthings,butshouldputnothingofhisownlifeintothem.Weliveinanagewhenmentreatartasifitweremeanttobeaformofautobiography.Wehavelosttheabstractsenseofbeauty.SomedayIwillshowtheworldwhatitis;andforthatreasontheworldshallneverseemyportraitofDorianGray.""Ithinkyouarewrong,Basil,butIwon'targuewithyou.Itisonlytheintellectuallylostwhoeverargue.Tellme,isDorianGrayveryfondofyou?"Thepainterconsideredforafewmoments."Helikesme,"heansweredafterapause;"Iknowhelikesme.OfcourseIflatterhimdreadfully.IfindastrangepleasureinsayingthingstohimthatIknowIshallbesorryforhavingsaid.Asarule,heischarmingtome,andwesitinthestudioandtalkofathousandthings.Nowandthen,however,heishorriblythoughtless,andseemstotakearealdelightingivingmepain.ThenIfeel,Harry,thatIhavegivenawaymywholesoultosomeonewhotreatsitasifitwereaflowertoputinhiscoat,abitofdecorationtocharmhisvanity,anornamentforasummer'sday."