October 16, 2013
I only celebrate the birth of artists who, through the utterly sublime value of their work, make me think of them as being still alive at the other end of the reader-writer wire, continuing infinitely to transmit a message, an idea, an aesthetic truth beyond a tomb’s earthly limit. Really. And dear boy Oscar Wilde’s just the persona to illustrate my idea of immortal writer.
His “Picture of Dorian Gray”, a flabbergasting compilation of epigrams brilliantly woven with the actual plot, was the object of my first genuine literary infatuation after finishing Homer’s heavy Iliad and has continued inciting my imagination ever since. Needless to confess I can’t eschew reading it least once a year and am actually unable to expel it from my frequent-comparison-terms list (together with David’s Michelangelo and Virginia Woolf’s Orlando). Its amaranthine aspects keep exerting a seemingly imperishable fascination which I always invariably bite. The wit, the beauty, the whole philosophy of dandyism and vanity in a decadent age: my pronounced affinity for them all has rendered my senses, well, sensible to Oscar’s only novel although I’m perfectly aware plenty other books surpass it in their overall value. Alas (or perhaps not), I am a voluntary victim of Dorian Gray’s witchery.
But enough about the creation: I say happy birthday to the marvelous wordsmith Wilde perfectly embodied and especially to the shrewd observer, the keen intellectual, the lobster-walker, the astute social animal and incorrigible fop coexisting within his fleshly borders. So incredible a man as he deserves the most bona fide greeting on these anniversary days despite being, physically, a mere pile of bones devoid of the possibility of hearing them. However, I wouldn’t refrain from wishing the man a formally expressed “happy birthday” before his tomb in Père Lachaise Cemetery (an occasion I’ve simply missed the last time I’ve been to Paris). There’s something very captivating in paying your compliments to a beloved author before their grave and I’m planning on capturing a drop of the respective feeling with the post you’re currently reading.
To commemorate Wilde I’m dedicating today to watching all the ‘Picture of Dorian Gray’ movies ever made and contriving a top of related subjects I could write about here. Nothing grand or equally off-the-wall to his deeds, unfortunately, but rather a good, valid excuse to do what I’ve been yearning to for a while now. What can I say: nice justification, a dead man’s 158th birthday… 🙂
Ah, and furthermore exploiting the occasion, I’d like heading what’s (if any) your relationship with the defunct yet still lively Oscar; associations, opinions, life stories, practically all you’re kind enough to share.
January 29, 2013
As WordPress announced and nostalgia made me recall, today, exactly one year ago (hours count included), a faltering netizen whom I sometimes associate with Patricia B. created this online receptacle to expose her history finds, artistic interests and unhindered opinions: Madame de Pique.
Since then, she’s enhanced a number of socializing skills, tested a couple of advertising talents, registered her magnetic powers to attract viewers (that are, to my chagrin, quite average), wrote, bragged, made and lost connections… The things to which every new user can relate to, right?
So cheers for a prosperous other 12 months of contributing with ideas, impressions, comments and eccentric depictions of history past, all illustrated by the exceedingly pink images my followers’ve gotten used with!
Also, to commemorate, I’m ‘inaugurating’ a novel author blog rather more focused on writing issues, in partnership with an artist friend whose charcoal drawings will pleasurably replace the current visual support and build the harmonious balance I’ve been told I lack here. This, in expectation of my debut self-published book (‘Vicious‘) scheduled for release on, say, April 21st.
Madame de Pique awaits companionship over at Patricia Beykrat!