Dorian Gray: A Portrait of the Current World

On a weekend away from the mundane world, after indulging in a lazy sleep, I have a simple brunch near noon. Filled with the rich aroma of coffee and accompanied by sweets like chocolate, it is a blissful taste that awakens the brain. On my way home from work on weekdays, I enjoy choosing a favorite brand from the many bottles at my regular bar. The cool whiskey moistens my throat, and the feeling of ecstasy as the nectar of the gods permeates my tired body is sublime. My selection for the beginning of the year is Akkeshi Distillery's Twenty-Four Solar Terms series 'Shosetsu'. Wrapped in a mild peat, I immerse myself in the faint acidity of 'yuzu' and the mellow aftertaste of 'honey.' Such moments have long been my small happiness, and even this stoic pleasure is a grace of being alive.

Now, since the beginning of the year, I have been reading Oscar Wilde's masterpiece of strange tales, "The Picture of Dorian Gray" (Penguin Classics original and Shinchosha Bunko translation by Tsutomu Fukuda). Dorian Gray, who was a good and beautiful young man, is influenced by the eloquent aristocrat Lord Henry Wotton and falls into depravity, indulging in hedonism. When he makes a wish to the portrait painted by painter Basil Hallward, saying, 'If only it could age in my place, I would sell my soul,' he is horrified by a strange phenomenon after coldly abandoning his first love, the innocent stage actress Sibyl. He retains his fresh youth and rare beauty forever, but the portrait transforms into an ugly figure, seeping with evil thoughts and immorality. This late 19th-century British gothic thriller novel was not exactly suitable for the New Year, but it suddenly brings to mind the satire of Donald Trump's absurdity, as well as the surprise attack in Venezuela.

I would like Basil Hallward to paint portraits of the profligate rulers of powerful nations, Trump, Netanyahu, and Putin. If they were hidden in a dark attic in a remote area, they would surely be hideous. Those in high positions who govern the people should care for and save the weak with the spirit of Noblesse oblige, but they drown in self-interest, just like the paradoxical sophistry Lord Henry instigates: “The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it.”. Since the era in which Wilde lived, through two world wars, the flames of war have never ceased, and the ignorance of humanity in the first half of the 21st century remains unchanged.

There is a face of the soul that cannot be seen from the outside. 'I should have to see your soul, but only God can do that.' 'I should have to see your soul, but only God can do that' The passage in Chapters 12 and 13, which approaches the core of the story, makes me shudder. Even I, who rarely look in the mirror, checked to see if my face, aged by the years, was healthy, looking back at the wrinkles, sagging, and distortions carved into it. The mastermind who corrupted Dorian lies in the demonic nature of Lord Henry, and the art of seduction without dirtying one's own hands is said to affect even the souls of others. In a society filled with deception and clouded truth due to overflowing information, I begin to think that there is nothing more mysterious than the power people have to attract others.

Perhaps pure, upright morality is too boring and dull, but this theater where human souls gather has attracted too many people to insane, cruel tragedies. No, although I do not wish to be pessimistic, I just hope that the tide does not turn toward an ominous atmosphere as stock prices and real estate boil over and immense power becomes arrogant. Trump has publicly stated that he has fought the presidential election to satisfy his own ego (vanity, perhaps). To those politicians whose business is to master the human heart, (to borrow the words of the late Kazutoshi Hando), please, never create national fanaticism; shocking endings should only be experienced in novels.

To the beautiful prose Wilde weaves with an aesthetic melancholy dripping with rose-colored blood, I would like to dedicate the U.K. New Wave Depeche Mode ballad "A Question Of Lust." When I was a student, it was from the album "Black Celebration" (1986), which was favored by a unique young lady in my circle who lived in an apartment in Ichibancho, Chiyoda Ward. Instead of vocalist Dave Gahan, lyricist Martin Gore sings sweetly of hopeless decadence and dangerous lust.

※ Top image: Shinchosha Bunko 'The Picture of Dorian Gray.' I am drawn to Mitsuru Katsumoto's profound cover design.