The Picture of Dorian Gray is, in many ways, an attack against the established values of the late-Victorian England that Oscar Wilde inhabited. From the hedonistic nihilism that permeated the ignorant aristocracy to the very idea of moral art, an art that didn’t stand on its own to exist for its own sake.

Though, in the latter point, one has to wonder to what degree Wilde himself wished art to be perceived as meaningless. After all, he wouldn’t be writing a cautionary tale of sorts if he didn’t think art served as a channel to communicate ideas in the first place. If aesthetics were all there was to it, The Picture of Dorian Gray would be more akin to the Gormenghast novels by Mervyn Peake. His perspective on art is valid and interesting, but I could never agree with it. Maybe all of this was just an excuse to escape the rigid forms of art in his time?

Be that as it may, the book remains worth a shot for its extraordinary last act and the decent characterization. It’s also a good place as any to start with Wilde.