New Delhi, June 28: The story of Oscar Wilde is a remarkable one. It is a story of a man who rose to the pinnacle of fame at the young age of 38 and merely eight years later died in virtual ignominy, at 46.
A recently published book, The Wit & Wisdom of Oscar Wilde, by Ralph Keyes brings out the brilliance of the man. But more interestingly, there is an introduction in which he tries to solve "The puzzle of Oscar Wilde." He poses the question, "Was Wilde merely a bright boy in a man’s body or a thoughtful prophet cleverly wrapping profundity in dazzling verbal giftwrap?" This statement intrigued me and I searched for and found some interesting material on Oscar Wilde and his life.
Wilde was born in Dublin on the sixteenth of October 1854. The family was talented and the social environment was stimulating. He got entrance into the Trinity College, Dublin in 1871. His brilliance surprised everyone since he gave the impression of being lazy and indolent. He won all sorts of prizes including the coveted Berkely Gold Medal. It is illustrative of the man that he pawned the gold medal several times in later life to support himself. Living on the edge. He made a habit of it.
He ultimately matriculated in 1874 from Magdalen College in Oxford. After his father died, leaving them with little money and great debts, his mother shifted to London and established a salon in Chelsea which was then a bohemian district in the city. The parlour became a gathering place of great minds and beautiful people. Around this time Wilde fell in love with one of the three most outstanding Victorian women who ditched him without notice and married somebody else. He quite enjoyed his role as a jilted lover.
Wilde burst on the international scene with his celebrated tour of the United States in 1882 where he is said to have made the famous statement to a customs officer, "I have nothing to declare except my genius." Soon he was recognised as the greatest conversationalist ever. People ran after him. George Bernard Shaw described him as "the greatest talker of his time — perhaps of all time."



Wilde elevated the epigram to the level of an art. He spent hours preparing his barbs. He used to drop names of dramatists and playwrights and put words in the mouth of such persons. On scrutiny, it was found that all this was pure fiction. They did not exist. It was Wilde talking through invented names. He laid conversational traps for people. When a friend made an earnest statement about his religious convictions Wilde told him with a smile, "You are so evidently, so unmistakably sincere and most of all so truthful, that I can’t believe a single word you say." The friend was hurt but he knew that he, like anybody else, could have been the subject matter of this barb. After all, Wilde had been known to say things like, "I can believe anything, provided that it is quite incredible." This was Wilde at the height of his career. Sprouting "pleasing paradoxes" such as "if one tells the truth, one is sure, sooner or later, to be found out." Colourful and attractive.



Keyes writes, "He was six-foot-three and dressed up like a dandy. He wore knee breeches, red waistcoats, velvet jackets, and a massive fur coat. A hairdresser waved his hair daily. He chain-smoked gold-tipped cigarettes. His ring featured a large green beetle. The buttonhole of his jacket was invariably decorated with some expensive flower."



Wilde’s letters were circulated and read keenly. Magazines quoted him regularly. His plays were a tremendous success. His books were eagerly devoured by British society. All through he carefully cultivated his image woven around his own vanity. For instance, when he was asked which are the world’s ten greatest books, he answered, "I really do not know — I have written only five books."



It is said that several authors repeated Wilde’s statements. It was Wilde who said, "I can resist everything except temptation." This statement was later attributed to several persons including Mark Twain, Mae West and W.C. Fields. Shaw’s famous statement in Man and Superman that "There are two tragedies in life. One is to lose your heart’s desire. The other is to gain it" was actually picked up from Wilde’s Lady Windermere’s Fan.



In 1884 he got married. This is probably a little known fact of his life given the controversy in which he found himself later. He was married to an attractive "love-struck" woman called Constance Lloyd and had two children for whom he had no time. It is at this stage that success went to his head. He became too cocky, reckless and almost defiant. In a society that tolerated anything if kept discreet, he flaunted his homosexuality and his relationship with Lord Alfred Douglas, son of Lord Queensberry. His letters to Lord Douglas were circulated. They were being sold. The infuriated Lord Queensberry put detectives on to him, got evidence and accused him of homosexuality which was then a crime. Wilde was forced to sue Lord Queensberry for libel and defamation. He lost the case. The cross examination of Wilde by his erstwhile friend, Sir Edward Carson is another story by itself. All through in the early stages of the cross examination Wilde’s witty quips and cutting answers got the better of Edward Carson. The crowd loved it. And then, slowly but remorselessly, Carson got the better of him. He was thereafter tried for the offence and he was convicted. He spent three and a half years in jail. How suddenly the mighty can fall.



On his release he left England. He took exile in Paris. He was rejected by almost all of the very people who had run after him. People crossed the street to avoid him. Old mentors who had doted on him now said coldly, "We no longer speak of Wilde." His wife sent him an allowance but she would not allow him to see his children, which now hurt him. A brief reunion with his male lover caused his wife to cut off whatever little income he had, as a result of which he was reduced to borrowing francs from acquaintances in shabby cafes where he sat drinking absinthe. He had lost his sharpness. The spirit was broken.



At the age of 46 he lay dying of meningitis. They had placed two leeches on his forehead to drain bad blood from his system. He had one final fling. He asked for champagne on his deathbed. Sipping it, he remarked, "As usual, I am dying beyond my means." As he would have himself said, nothing is more important than writing your own epigram on the tombstone.



He is buried in a grave at the famous cemetery in Paris, Pere Lachaise. Recently people have been trying to restore the memory and rehabilitate this remarkable man. He had lived in the wrong era and died before the right one came by.