DE Weekly: Aestheticism, Wilde, & The Picture of Dorian Gray
Below is an archived email originally sent on April 20, 2026.
Aestheticism, Wilde, & The Picture of Dorian Gray
“I sent my Soul through the Invisible, Some letter of that After-life to spell: And by and by my Soul return’d to me, And answer’d: ‘I Myself am Heav’n and Hell.’” This poem from the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam is repeated in a film I watched this past week, the 1945 adaptation of Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray.
The poem is read throughout the movie by the film’s namesake, Dorian Gray. Sitting for a portrait painted by his friend Basil Hallward, Dorian meets Lord Henry Wotton, a man who lives only for pleasure, and suggests to Dorian that men should pursue only their sensual pleasures.
He adds that Dorian’s youth allows him to do this better than he, and is something he will grow to miss one day.
Dorian mulls over the idea, wishing to himself that he could stay young all the days of his life and his portrait would age in his place. He does so in the presence of a statue of a cat that belongs to the Egyptian collection of gods, and his wish––or curse––is granted.
It is said that, however one lives, one’s true nature will reveal itself on one’s face. Those who live kind and loving lives age gracefully, while those who debauch and sin wear the wrinkles and the ugliness on their face sooner or later.
Imagine, though, there was a living portrait, a mirror, or some other medium that showed you the full weight of each of your actions; you yourself remained young and exuberant, but your portrait revealed the true ugliness of your soul.
Such was the case for Dorian Gray following his wish: he looked twenty-two years old into his forties, but his portrait painted years earlier by Basil Hallward grew old, ugly, decrepit, and evil.
Through Dorian Gray, Wilde explores the Aestheticism that permeated his age––the movement of “art for art’s sake”––holding that art need only be beautiful, not necessarily moral.
The problem is, this aestheticism pins itself against morality: if we live only for beauty and pleasure, like Lord Henry convinced Dorian he should, we ditch any ethical “constraints” and submit to vanity, to narcissism and, in Dorian’s case, to deadly spiritual corruption: to the corruption of the soul.
There were two works of art in The Picture of Dorian Gray: Dorian’s portrait and Dorian himself.
Dorian himself is the aesthetic work of art: a handsome young man, beautiful for beauty’s sake.
His portrait is a moral work of art: it bears the iniquity of Dorian’s actions, growing more grotesque as it mirrors the decaying of his soul.
Even though the outside world cannot see his true nature––indeed, many still defend him as a good man simply because there is no way a youthful visage could be evil––he himself is tortured by the fact of what he truly is.
Later in the story, Basil asks Dorian to be honest with him; he has heard rumors of his wicked deeds in London and says he wants to truly see his soul. Dorian concedes: he shows him his soul, the portrait of his own hand.
When Basil sees the horrid portrait, he tells Dorian they must pray, that it is not too late to save his soul, that he can reverse course. Instead of listening to this last echo of morality in his life, Dorian murders Basil instead.
Herein lies the philosophical truth underlying the entire story.
Søren Kierkegaard, a founder of Existentialism, warned against the pitfalls of neglecting what he called the “inner self,” the side of every Self that Jean-Paul Sartre would later write is the source of what makes us an object in the eyes of the Other.
Basil Hallward saw Dorian Gray’s soul. The Other saw a Self living in Bad Faith, presenting one way on the outside and another on the inside, inauthentic to its core. The entire image of Dorian’s subjective Self was shattered. He was in Hell––he was known.
The entire time I was watching the film, I was thinking two things: one, I need to read the book as soon as possible. Two, Existentialism is everywhere in this story.
The aestheticism of Wilde’s day and the Sartrean existentialism that emerged later on stand in contrast, in that Sartre understood that playing at being something while truly embodying something else creates a “divided self.”
Dorian’s existence is proof of this. He separates his outward appearance from his true consciousness, from his true Self. The Other sees a young man free of wrinkles, harmless and charming.
But the true nature of his soul is shown in his portrait. Eventually, as it does with everyone, his lifestyle catches up with him, and he pays the price.
You cannot live in Bad Faith, in inauthenticity, for too long without the Other discovering what your Self really is. You will eventually be subjected to the Look, revealing the true nature of what you are.
Through The Picture of Dorian Gray, we are reminded of just how special Oscar Wilde was, ahead of his time in all ways.
He had the wisdom to understand what the Existentialists later would repeat for us to take to heart. That is, your existence is embodied by your actions.
We are born as a Self and radically free to be either responsible or irresponsible; we can either live authentically, in Good Faith, or inauthentically, in Bad Faith.
We can either live like Basil Hallward, or like Dorian Gray.
“The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield it.” –– Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray
Thanks for reading.
Sincerely,
Brandon J. Seltenrich
P.S.––
Definitely give this film a watch. Older films based on older stories, if you can get used to the pacing of them, are usually leaps and bounds better than newer ones.
For more content, follow @TheDailyExist on X. For other social links, click here.
I write this newsletter for free–I love sharing my thoughts with you all, and I’ll continue to do so for free. But if you like what I write and want to show your support, you can always click here to share a tip. Thanks for keeping me going–it’s much appreciated.