There's something so unutterably sad about this (well, last) week's Dorian Gray. Both men are desperately seeking for connection, for something real, and it is denied them because of who and what they are.

Lord Henry is so overwhelmingly unhappy. You can tell he's not playing the game for the joy of it but because it's all he has and knows. Because he's not bantering, he's monologuing, going around and around in unresolvable circles, begging Dorian to keep playing Chopin, let him dissolve himself into sensory escape, and maybe, just maybe, experience the touch of Something Real that his wife chose over him. Whatever was so good about the Chopin that it won Victoria let it win me too. But he's been too hollow for too long, and such things can only give him substance in the moment. And meanwhile the way he's being forced to confront his own mortality, and the artlessness of ordinary death- he's treated life as a work of art and death is refusing to play along... and yet still he clings to shadows because it's all he knows and the real world is too vulgar...

And meanwhile Dorian... like, he wants to grow and change, but he can't. He is perforce frozen, static, an object. Henry straight-up tells him his internality doesn't matter, that he's a work of art for other people's consumption. He wants so desperately to be seen that he confesses to murder! And isn't believed. That's the most devastating thing of all, that Lord Henry won't or can't believe him. The man who (by his own words) made him who he is doesn't know him at all. If even Lord Henry can no longer look beneath the mask, then what even is he??

They're both horrible people but still it makes my heart weep. They are both denied the catharsis of punishment.

One big problem with that argument, though, is that no one present was afraid of it. In fact they were way too into it. Someone who makes the people they interact with *less* afraid of human extinction is either not an Extinction avatar or they're just really shit at their job. (That and I don't think the descendants of the scheme, if it had gone ahead, would actually have been noticeably different. Eugenics doesn't work.)

Actually, rather than just dropping the link and moving on, lemme break it down a bit to help spell out why he would have been such a good choice.

“No slacking on the grave packing, ever more to kill Death row deplorables, incurables and 'sort of ill' Every person, animal and plant has a form to fill We've got departments solely tasked with killing chlorophyll”

There’s the inevitability aspect with not only everyone but everything being subject to Fate’s vast bureaucracy, and the relentless pace at which the Grims are pushed to complete their work.

“So of course you will toe the life-line and behave Or you'll be filing dandelions before you've had your tea break Humanity's in balance, if that balance isn't repaid Interns can be inhumed and replaced”

Yes, this is a threat, and it’s a threat he makes in the game. If you fuck up enough he’ll send you your own profile. This is a guy who puts the fear of death into Death.

“Ashes to ashes, nine to five The light in the tunnel has been privatised”

Would it really be TMA if the real horror wasn’t capitalism?

“For generations we've been racing for the first place But we've spent the centuries in second to the birth rate”

Doesn’t he just sound so annoyed about that? Like maybe he’d like to change it? I know the End doesn’t have a ritual, and not to spoil the game or anything, but Fate would absolutely try to pull one off anyway.

Okay possibly unpopular opinion time, but I think classic lit 'fandoms' are not remotely required to dwell on the problematic aspects of those works. If you're talking about something relating to those aspects and completely fail to acknowledge the issue, then yeah, absolutely, we have a problem. But I don't see choosing to focus on the more positive aspects or the parts that still resonate as an issue. And - in my very personal, biased opinion - I don't necessarily think making constant posts like "Remember the problematic thing!!! Look at how offensive it is!! Talk about it or you're problematic too!!" makes for a better experience for many members of the marginalized groups in question.

Like, I'm Jewish, and The Picture of Dorian Gray is one of my all-time favorite books. It also has some of the worst anti-semitic writing I've seen. I rarely post about this. When I go into the tags and largely see posts focusing on other aspects of the story, I find it a relief rather than offensive. Seeing constant posts like "Remember, The Picture of Dorian Gray is anti-semitic!! Look at this anti-semitic caricature!!" wouldn't make me feel protected, it would just keep shoving something upsetting to me in my face.

I just kind of - perhaps naively - assume we're all intelligent enough to know that the Problematic Thing is Problematic, and there's no need to constantly dwell on it just to prove how woke you are. People are allowed to want fandoms to be fun, even classic lit fandoms. And I sort of take umbrage with the idea that it's always privileged people that these issues aren't relevant to saying so. I understand obviously people are going to have various differing reactions to it, but as someone from a group that frequently gets villanized in classic lit, I don't necessarily feel more welcome in a fandom if people focus on The Problematic Thing more.

Welcome to KLQ tries to explain why I think Lord Henry Wotton is more sympathetic than I think people give him credit for (and it's Not just cause he's my favorite character I SWEAR).

One important thing to notice about Henry is that he has only one person he can really call his friend (that being Basil). He has no other friends and, at best, he has acquaintances, but really he has spectators. All the other people in his life are not there to see Henry, they're there to see what he'll do this time. He is a spectacle to them, a show. And if he stops the show, if the spectacle becomes boring, they'll leave him for something more interesting. So he needs to bring a spectacle, he needs to get a reaction. So he'll say shit that is rancid and off-base cause he KNOWS that will get a reaction, be it laughs, outrage, or otherwise. And this way he knows people will stick around to see what horrible shit he's gonna say this time.

But it's also why he cherishes his relationship (whichever way you take it) with Basil, and later his relationship with Dorian, because they are the few people who seem to look past the persona, although in different ways. Basil is the one who's there for Henry as HENRY the guy, the man, and not Henry the contrarian asshole. Dorian's the one who saw beyond the persona and saw Henry as a coward who says empty words (and unfortunately for us Dorian made those empty words less empty). Basil was very true to say that he doesn't believe what Henry says and that he doesn't believe Henry believes it either.

But there also comes a point, after saying shit for the sake of saying it his whole life, he becomes unable to differentiate what is just words and what are his actual thoughts. When forced to confront his feelings (ie when he gets divorced, when he thinks about basil's disappearance), he defaults back to his persona because that's who everyone believes him to be so that's who he is, even if that's not who he really is.

tldr: Lord Henry Wotton's lonely as fuck pathetic little guy and the only way he knows how to keep people around is by saying shit that will garner a reaction of some sort, even if he doesn't necessarily believe what he's saying.

For those who have never heard of AM… let me tell you a story.

He’s a super computer who has taken over the world and has imprisoned six people almost randomly. Yeah humanity fucked him up but those six people didn’t exactly do it.

He’s kept them alive for centuries, torturing them. He refuses to let them die. It’s only by a miracle that one of the guys is able to kill the five others. And what does he do now that his play things are gone?

Turns the remaining guy into a nightmare abomination who has no concept of time thinking that even seconds take thousands of years and he has no way of expressing anything because he literally has no mouth, and cannot scream.

AM is terrifying.

Yeah, but he's also a villain who's supposed to be terrifying or there would be no story. Jar Jar is unnecessary (and also a racist joke).

Oh, and he's also the only character who doesn't join in the little antisemitism party a few chapters in.

Letters From Watson Liveblog - Apr. 18

The Copper Beeches, Part 3 of 3

In hindsight, it's kind of obvious that Alice is the prisoner. There's not really anyone else it could be, and I don't know why I just believed Mr. Rucastle when he said that she left for America.

I guess this story is another case of a young woman abused and controlled by her father. It's unfortunate how many of these sort of situations Sherlock had to deal with.

That's a smart way of doing things, more so when the parents are pretending to be sweet and smiley all the time. And I doubt he'd care either way, but I'm curious if little Edward knows that he has a sister locked in the attic.

I can't believe Alice was kept in such deplorable conditions. Honestly though, the main thing I noticed was the lack of any sort of place to use the bathroom. No mention of a toilet or anything, not even a bucket! That just makes it so much worse.

I don't see this ending well for good ol' Carlo the mastiff.

Terrible and gruesome.

Well, on the bright side Carlo got a real good bite out of Mr. Rucastle's throat before Watson had to shoot it, so at least in the end he got some revenge for his poor treatment.

I'm not sure how this scene is supposed to come off, but to me the fact Mrs. Toller mentions how the court should take all this makes her seem like she's out for nobody but herself. Especially with her saying that she was Miss Hunter's and Alice's "friend" despite not really doing anything to help either one.

And this was ultimately all about money, which is insane. I hate to imagine any of the real life scenarios Doyle was deriving these stories from, mainly because they probably didn't end happily with someone like Sherlock coming in to help.

"Worrying her" is an interesting way to phrase it. I feel like it hides a lot of what was most likely threats and abuse. I highly doubt she got brain-fever just from Mr. Rucastle bothering her about it from time to time.

Okay, so Mrs. Toller did help Alice escape, so I take back my words about her being only out for herself. Still, I feel like there must be something else she could have done in all that time Alice was imprisoned.

I'm amazed Mr. Rucastle survived. Amazed and disappointed. I'm also surprised that Mrs. Rucastle genuinely seems to love him. You'd think she was just here for Alice's money or something. But she has a kid with him, so I suppose that makes sense.

So everything for them just goes back to normal? Nobody got punished? Legally I mean. Keeping someone locked up against their will seems like a crime punishable by law. Or is the fact Alice was Mr. Rucastle's daughter mean that he got off scot-free?

Also, Mrs. Toller, despite helping Alice escape, just goes back to work for Mr. Rucastle? I can't imagine he's okay with that.

Good for them. It's a shame we didn't actually get to meet Alice or Mr. Fowler, but based on how devoted he was to her I think it's safe to say they'll be happy together.

I don't know what Watson's expectations are, especially since Holmes has only thought of Miss Hunter more as a sister than anything else.

Good for her, too. Sometimes I'm glad we don't see some characters again, cause it means the last note that we're left with is a happy one.

I have some few remaining questions.

Why was Mrs. Rucastle crying alone so much? Is her relationship with Mr. Rucastle really bad (which wouldn't be surprising) despite what Watson wrote earlier? Or was it actually just because her kid is shitty?

And about that kid, I don't know why but I'm very curious as to his thoughts about all this. I'm also sorry he won't have better parents.

And regarding Mr. Rucastle's plan: the impersonation didn't work, right? Cause Mr. Fowler still came back to the house for Alice despite Violet waving him away when she was pretending to be her.

Also, why didn't they fire Violet after they stopped having her pretend to be Alice? That seems like an easy way for someone to find out about her imprisonment. Although maybe they just genuinely needed someone to look after their kid.

Another also, but now that I think about it, if Sherlock weren't a part of this story Mr. Fowler would have still convinced Mrs. Toller to help Alice escape. The only difference would be that Mr. Rucastle wouldn't have gotten his throat torn out. So I guess Sherlock's appearance is justified.

Good story. I'm glad I read it.

No tease for the next one? Guess it'll be a surprise.

Regarding the resolution, I don't think a contemporary audience would have considered it as "everything going back to normal". Victorians had a significant horror of blackmail, which is what's being implied with that line about the servants knowing so much that Rucastle "finds it difficult to part from them". He's permanently injured and permanently in the power of the unpleasant Tollers (and Mrs Toller is probably indeed meant to be seen as out for herself- after all, Alice's fiance did have to bribe her for her assistance.) I suspect that's supposed to be a more satisfying karmic punishment than anything the law could do to him.

The many, many references of chapter XI of Dorian Gray

This chapter can come across as a bit of a long, boring list of stuff. That's partly because it is a long, boring list of stuff, as we see how shallow Dorian's life of collecting trinkets and misdeeds is, compared with his lofty ambitions to be some kind of thought-leader of his age.

But it's Wilde, so a lot of this chapter has references and connotations that might not be obvious.

the sordid room of the little ill-famed tavern near the docks OK, this isn't particularly subtle given Wilde already tells us it's sordid and ill-famed. But it's probably not just a dodgy pub. Being near the docks implies that Dorian is hanging out with people in the lower classes, almost certainly including sex workers. I think there might also be a nudge-nudge wink-wink implication of homosexuality here - docks mean sailors, and the navy already had a reputation for homosexuality in Wilde's time.

Like Gautier, he was one for whom “the visible world existed.” Théophile Gautier, a French writer, critic and defender of Romanticism. He was flamboyant, unconventional and had lots of affairs.

he might really become to the London of his own day what to imperial Neronian Rome the author of the Satyricon once had been The author of the Satyricon is Petronius, a Roman courtier in the reign of Nero. He was dedicated to a life of pleasure and indulgence, and was an authority on questions of fashion and taste.

the materialistic doctrines of the Darwinismus movement in Germany Darwinismus means proto-eugenics, essentially. You know, in case you needed any more reasons to dislike Dorian.

the one that Bernal Diaz saw when he went with Cortes into the Mexican temple, and of whose doleful sound he has left us so vivid a description "They had an exceedingly large drum there, and when they beat it the sound of it was so dismal and like, so to say, an instrument of the infernal regions, that one could hear it a distance of two leagues, and they said that the skins it was covered with were of those great snakes." Wouldn't say it was that vivid a description, to be honest.

appeared at a costume ball as Anne de Joyeuse, Admiral of France, in a dress covered with five hundred and sixty pearls Despite how this sounds, Anne de Joyeuse was a man, and Dorian didn't go to the ball in drag. Anne de Joyeuse was probably one of Henry III's lovers. (This is the start of a theme developing).

Alexander, the Conqueror of Emathia This is Alexander the Great. (The theme continues).

Lodge’s strange romance ‘A Margarite of America’ A 16th century romance about the love affair between a Peruvian prince and a Russian princess. With a lot of gory bits.

the Duke de Valentinois, son of Alexander VI Otherwise known as Cesare Borgia, who inspired Machiavelli to write The Prince. There are all sorts of rumours about Cesare Borgia, ranging from having lots of mistresses (true) to gay relationships and incest with his sister (probably not true).

Charles of England had ridden in stirrups hung with four hundred and twenty-one diamonds This is presumably Charles I rather than Charles II (who was also Charles of England). Historic Royal Palaces - the people who run the Tower of London, among others - have him on their list of LGBT+ monarchs. They highlight this painting, where he's gazing at George Villiers, who also shagged his dad:

Richard II had a coat, valued at thirty thousand marks, which was covered with balas rubies Richard II, who was rumoured to have had an affair with Richard de Vere, Earl of Oxford.

Henry VIII Who only had relationships with women, as far as history is aware.

The favourites of James I wore ear-rings of emeralds set in gold filigrane Back on the theme again. James I was Charles I's dad, who had a secret passage built between his bedchamber and that of his favourite, George Villiers - the one in the picture up there ^. While most of the people on this list were only rumoured to have had gay relationships, no one really disputes it for James I.

Edward II gave to Piers Gaveston a suit of red-gold armour That would be his lover, Piers Gaveston.

Henry II. wore jewelled gloves reaching to the elbow Henry II, who was known to have shared a bed with William Marshal, the Earl of Pembroke. Which doesn't necessarily mean anything, but... you know. There's a theme.

Charles the Rash, the last Duke of Burgundy of his race At this point I can't tell if Wilde is deliberately throwing in some misdirection, like the mention of Henry VIII, or if my Google-powers have failed me.

the mortuary cloth of King Chilperic Oh hang on a tick. King Chilperic was a 6th century monarch who is known, among other things, for having strangled his wife. Just as Henry VIII had two of his wives executed. So the theme here is either queer relationships - or murdered women.

(We then of course get a series of notable historical figures who, so far as I can tell, don't have any connections to either of these things. Also this bit goes on for ages and this post is already very long, so I'm going to skip past them).

dreadful places near Blue Gate Fields A slum area just north of the docks in East London. Known for opium dens, brothels and murders. Some people have suggested this is an allusion to Jack the Ripper, even a suggestion that Oscar Wilde knew who Jack the Ripper was, which I'm reasonably confident is nonsense.

brawling with foreign sailors in a low den in the distant parts of Whitechapel So what I'm finding quite funny here is that all the dodgy and dissolute places that Wilde has Dorian go are literally just the same place.

Near the docks = East London, probably in the area of Whitechapel Blue Gate Fields = Whitechapel the distant parts of Whitechapel = that would be Whitechapel, then?

The very odd Jack the Ripper website I just read interprets Wilde's descriptions as meaning that he had some kind of hidden knowledge of London's underworld... just as the Ripper would have!! But to me this reads a lot more like Wilde was aware of one (1) suitably shady-sounding location and ran with it.

Here was Philip Herbert That would be James I's lover, Philip Herbert. (What, you thought we were done with these?)

Sir Anthony Sherard Is fictional, but...

the lover of Giovanna of Naples Giovanna of Naples was a real person, who probably murdered her husband. (Nice to get some variety among the murdered spouses).

Lady Elizabeth Devereux A Tudor noblewoman, known for a quite public affair.

George Willoughby... had been a macaroni of the eighteenth century, and the friend, in his youth, of Lord Ferrars I can't find much on George Willoughby, but Lord Ferrers shot his steward, and is known as the last peer to have been hanged in England.

the second Lord Beckenham... he had led the orgies at Carlton House Lord Beckenham is (I think) fictional; George IV, who held wild and extravagant parties at Carlton House, is not.

Tiberius, in a garden at Capri Googling this brings up articles titled things like "The Scandalous Private Life of Tiberius Caesar". That makes it sound like the fun activities of consenting adults, but that's grossly misleading. The people involved were rumoured to be often neither consenting nor adults.

reading the shameful books of Elephantis Elephantis was a Greek poet and physician who wrote a sex manual.

Caligula... Domitian... Elagabalus Caligula was known for sex and murder. Domitian was known for censorship and control of public morals. Elagabalus was known for sexual promiscuity with men and women.

And that's the lot! For the last few paragraphs of the chapter, Wilde actually spells out the various misdeeds of the people he discusses (sex and murder, unsurprisingly), thus sparing me from Googling them.

Congratulations if you made it this far.

(Dorian Gray Chapter 7)

Funny that Basil and Dorian thinks that Henry Wotton corrupts people when it is Dorian that has fucked up two perfectly good artists (so far)

Until now, it seems like Dorian's misdeeds are mostly under the influence of Lord Henry, but finally we get to a point where Dorian's character comes to the fore.

Basil Hallward has what's essentially a good person's reaction to Sibyl Vane's poor acting: perhaps she was ill, and it doesn't matter anyway. It's wrong to be unkind about people you love.

Lord Henry has a dismissive and unkind, but not cruel reaction: he doesn't really see Sibyl as a real person, but he remains blandly positive, and seems to have a genuine reaction ("a strange tenderness in his voice") to seeing Dorian upset.

But Dorian's reaction is pure cruelty. We see just how shallow his feelings for Sibyl were all along; he makes no attempt to understand her, and responds to her breaking down on the floor sobbing with "exquisite disdain" and annoyance.

I can't imagine Henry, even at his worst, being quite so callous, though he might claim to be. I think this is where we see that far from being an innocent young thing caught in a bad influence, Dorian is a worse character than either of his friends, for all that he himself thinks that Henry's "subtle poisonous theories" are to blame.

Not only that: this is something Henry specifically told Dorian not to do! Henry loves to think that he has power over Dorian, but when it comes down to it, when what Dorian wants (yell at Sibyl) and what Henry wants (come get drunk with your buddies) are in conflict, Dorian will always do what Dorian wants. Henry only has the power to enable.

A bit of historical context on this section, because it carries ~*implications*~ that aren't just Henry being bitchy about women (though, that too).

This is at least in part about breach of promise, which anyone who has read too much PG Wodehouse will know about. Until 1970 in England and Wales (and in a bunch of other places at different times), if a man asked a woman to marry him, she accepted and then he changed his mind, she could sue him for damages.

There are very rare examples of men suing women for the same thing, but generally the principle held that women were allowed to change their minds freely. This is, I think, because the logic behind breach of promise is that a woman suffered a loss from having been engaged (for instance, in terms of her future prospects for marriage), whereas a man didn't.

Saying "I love you" could be enough to be understood as a proposal, but Dorian has allowed some ambiguity since he doesn't make "any formal proposal". Sibyl then removes that ambiguity by referencing herself as his wife.

So from the cynical perspective of Lord Henry, Dorian has gone to Sibyl with his thoughts full of love, and Sibyl has deftly manoeuvred him into a position where she can sue him if he should change his mind.

I don't think this is Sibyl's intention, based on the previous chapter. But I'm reasonably confident it's what Henry is referencing in terms of women being "practical" all the same.

So this is not a chapter than Lord Henry comes out of particularly well. I have to admit that I'd forgotten the brief insight into his marriage, and the impression it gives of his deeply unhappy wife.

What I find interesting is the standards he allows for himself and those that he requests from Dorian. He's happy to spout misogyny ("As for conversation, there are only five women in London worth talking to, and two of these can’t be admitted into decent society") but as soon as Dorian tries the same, Henry gently rebukes him ("Don’t run down dyed hair and painted faces").

Similarly, while he doesn't ever directly contradict Dorian's anti-Semitism, nor does he echo it, and he pushes back on some of Dorian's criticisms of the theatre manager, just a little ("I should not wonder if he was quite right there", and "It was a distinction, my dear Dorian—a great distinction. Most people become bankrupt through having invested too heavily in the prose of life. To have ruined one’s self over poetry is an honour").

There's some debate over the extent to which Wilde himself endorses Dorian's anti-Semitism, though it's really tricky to discuss how much Wilde endorses anything said by any of his characters at this stage without massive spoilers for the rest of the book. I get the impression that there's a question of degree: whatever Wilde's personal views (and the consequences of how they're expressed in the novel), I think Dorian is to be understood as going too far here. I don't think we're supposed to conclude that he's an irredeemable bigot (much as he sounds like one!) but I do think even to 1890s ears, he comes across as gauche. And that's important context for Lord Henry's gentle corrections.

What Lord Henry says and does is a game, not to be taken too seriously, but he becomes uncomfortable when Dorian doesn't follow exactly the lines that he's set out for him. In this chapter it's clear that Henry's very satisfied with having influenced Dorian, and in no way feels that Dorian is excessively under his spell. But I think there are hints here that, from Henry's own perspective, he might not have influenced Dorian enough.

The thing about Lord Henry is, that he leans heavily on paradox to support the reputation he wants, as a clever amusing fellow who always gets the last word and is too slippery to hold. And the thing about paradox is, that it can be profoundly true (my own favorite example is “all generalizations are false”) and express some of the complexity of a world which goes on existing whether we can fit it into our systems of thought or not, or they can be superficial to the point of imbecility (most, if not all, of Lord Henry’s pronouncements on women, individually or collectively); but the speaker cannot rely on the audience to know the difference. Dealing in paradox allows Lord Henry to be rude to people to their faces and get a laugh, and given the company he keeps I can see the appeal, but it also means that no one can get close.

It is more important, in his eyes, to dazzle than to be understood; and in Basil and Dorian we see two results of that. Basil simply defaults to assuming he’s talking nonsense all the time and doesn’t believe anything he says; Dorian takes everything he says at face value (it takes a particularly perverse kind of stupidity to do this with a paradox) and assume that what amuses him and supports his ego must be true.

Dealing only in paradox as he does, Lord Henry cannot allow anything so crude as the Jewish stereotypes Dorian projects onto the theater manager (natural enough in a man as shallow as he is; systematic anti-semitism runs deep, deep in Western culture and it’s possible to subscribe to it without recognizing it and say disgustingly anti-semitic things with no conscious malice at all; gentiles are raised to it) to exist without an offsetting redeeming paradox. But he succeeds neither in making Dorian think nor laugh, and does not - perhaps has forgotten how to - follow up with more straightforward statements challenging the position. That would risk seriousness, the charge above all others that Lord Henry wishes to avoid.

And would he, if he could? Like his associates, the reader can’t tell how Lord Wotton feels and thinks about Jews - or people of color - or women - or artists. He takes care that we do not. Playing Devil’s Advocate is so deeply ingrained in his behavior, he may not know, himself.

I’m not sure I understand why we’re blaming Lord Wotton for Dorian. Maybe this is just me still not actually getting this book. He’s only a couple years older than Dorian, and comes across as the sort of guy who just says shit to get a rise out of people. Like, no, I probably wouldn’t be friends with the guy, but there are plenty of people who would.

Why is it Wotton that is full of red flags and not Dorian who has somehow managed to live 19 years in society without ever coming across someone who talks shit like this?

I think you’re getting the book fine! People just like having someone to blame.

How Oscar Wilde describes Lord Henry Wotton:

Actors who have played Lord Henry Wotton:

Oscar Wilde: Henry is young. The vast majority of casting directors: Absolutely not.

Still thinking about this. Henry is such a different character if he's 20 or so years older.

I'd guess from Wilde's description that Basil and Henry are late 20s, maybe early 30s. I think Dorian is usually taken to be 20 at the start of the book (though Basil only describes him as "over twenty").

The most notable aspect of Henry's character, which we learn about almost as soon as we meet him, is that he loves to strike a pose. He claims opinions that he doesn't really hold. He pretends to be a terrible husband, but he isn't really. He's a kind of reverse hypocrite; he likes people to think of him as some kind of rogue but deep down, he generally behaves quite well. That's all there in chapter 1.

A lot of that feels very normal for being an idle rich man in his late 20s - noting that Henry is the second son of a noble family, who is too wealthy to need to work but as the second son doesn't have any of the responsibilities of the heir either. No wonder he's full of shit! No wonder he's not much aware of the influence he has on others. He's an adult, but there aren't many pressures on him to grow up. Of course he spends his time with artistic friends constructing witticisms that he doesn't believe and bitching about parties that he's been to.

It's quite different if he's late 40s/early 50s. Sure, he's still idle and rich, but you might expect that by then he'd have a bit more of a sense of his responsibilities and the impact he has on people around him. It changes him from Sebastian Flyte into Uncle Monty. The way he talks about his marriage reads very differently if he's been married for 25 years rather than 5: these are practised habits (whether or not they're true!) rather than someone relatively newly married trying to work out how he feels about it.

Of course, whatever age Henry is, the power dynamic in the group is always tilted towards him (rich, titled, etc). But it's much more so if he's old enough to be Dorian's dad - which I guess is part of the reason why films so often make that change.

I don't want to say any more because I'm at risk of straying into spoilery territory, but I think I'll be coming back to this theme over the next few weeks, in particular the level of responsibility that Henry bears for anything that might happen next.