‘All thought is immoral. Its very essence is destruction. If you think of anything, you kill it. Nothing survives being thought of.’ ( Lord Illingworth)
‘My dear young lady, there was a great deal of truth, I dare say, in what you said, and you looked very pretty while you said it, which is more important.’ ( Lady Hunstanton)
Wilde’s celebration of the bon mot, of the aesthetics of the superficial, is amply expressed in this play. Its interest emanates from its wittiest character being also the most irredeemable; something that does not occur in his other dramas.Lord Illingworth is the centre of the play yet he is an immoral and finally ’empty’ fulcrum/ centre. He is Mephistopheles let loose in the drawing rooms of Belgravia. All his language suggests terminal cynicism, and finally the ‘death’ of value and even perspective. Whilst initially enjoying the repartee between him and his ‘foil’ Mrs Allonby, it does become rather tiresome – perhaps due to its aridity. It is always and only cynicism. It is thanatos.
Therefore it seems monotonous and curiously ‘uneventful’ in terms of dramatic impact and resonance? It is a play whcih becomes rather fatigued with its own shiny surface and then finds it problematic to confront its supposedlly deeper meanings surrounding sexual double dealing and standards.
Do we actually care about the play and its questions? To some extent this is keenly dependent upon the performances of Gerald and his mother who have to carry the weight of their victimhood imaginativley in order to make the audience sympathetic to their plight.
The nullity of Illingworth at its centre gives this drama a dark aspect and engenders a perhaps a sense of hopelessness and ‘absurdity’ . For although passion and authenticity triumph they seem to cohabit awkwardly with Wilde’s celebration of the devastating epigram. If all hiercachies of value are overturned and then reevaluated what will this leave for the audience to live by? The humour seems to lack the delicious surrealism of Earnest and the superbly rendered ‘latency’ of affection in An Ideal Husband.
Some beautiful exchanges but somehow a bit ‘clunky’ in its entirety? An unhappy marriage after all…
