Feminist Theory Response

I do not believe that Chaucer was chauvinistic. That feminist view is looking at the story from a modern 21st century lens. During Chaucer's time, his story would have been the societal norm. Women at that time were dependent on men. They could not go to school, and there were not many professions open to women aside from wife and homemaker. To say that Chaucer hated women because the main female character did not get what she wanted is taking the story out of its historical context.

It is not even completely true that Emily did not get what she wanted, either. She did ask Diana to let her keep her chastity and to marry neither Arcite nor Palamon, but she also added a small addendum to her request. She said that if she could not remain a maiden, she asked Diana to let her marry the one of the two that loved her most. In the end, Emily got Palamon. Palamon loved Emily as a goddess, while Arcite loved her as a mere woman. Palamon's love was better for Emily than Arcite's, so Emily did, in the end, get what she asked for. Chaucer did not completely deprive Emily of her happily ever after.

Speaking of happily ever after, I disagree with some of Disney's examples of anti-feminism. Granted, some stories like Cinderella and most villain's like Maleficent are perfect examples, but Belle of Beauty and The Beast is, in my opinion, a great example of a strong female heroine. Belle is not your average girl in the story. Instead of her looks or men, Belle cares about books and reading. She's intelligent, where other girls of the story, like the three silly girls, are anything but. Gaston, the seemingly perfect man, wants Belle for his wife. Gaston is the ultimate chauvinist. He does not even ask Belle to marry him. He demands it. Belle, on the other hand, refuses him to his face. And when Belle is stuck in Beast's castle, Beast demands that Belle come to dinner and Belle refuses, instead telling him to work on his attitude. Belle is independent--being held against her will is not the same as being weak. And when looking at Disney, we seem to forget Mulan. The whole plot of Mulan was a girl who ran away from home and masqueraded as a man, enlisting in the army so her father would not have to. When she was found out, she persevered and took down Shan Yu, the leader of the Huns. Mulan is not your typical Disney Heroine.

If you shift the focus off of Emily, you can see just how Chaucer is not a chauvinist. Emily did not get what she wanted, but Venus did. Venus is the goddess of love and beauty, and the pinnacle of femininity among the gods. She prevails, not Mars, the god of war and paragon of masculinity. Theseus is used as an example of Chaucer's misogynistic tendencies; he captured Hippolyta as a war prize and offered up Emily as a prize to be won. If, however, this is the Theseus of Mythology, he is not very misogynistic himself. His major feat was navigating the labyrinth and slaying the Minotaur, but he could not have done that without the help of a woman. Princess Ariadne of Crete gave Theseus a sword and a ball of twine to navigate the labyrinth, so he would not get lost. Theseus would not have gotten out if not for Ariadne. Chaucer is not misogynistic because his story is socially acceptable during his time period, even if it is not during ours.

Final Ideal Society

My society really did not change that much. I only traded Lara Croft for Pink. I traded Lara Croft because I did not feel I really needed someone like her. I just added her in because she was a female, and my society needed to procreate, plus I thought she had some interesting qualities that might help a society. But when I found out some of the other omen in other societies, I liked them better. The only extras I found Lara to have was proficiency in weaponry and combat, and a lot of money. Gabriel, though, can create anything from thin air, like money, and both Gabriel and Beast know how to fight. So instead, I received Pink, whom in my opinion is a great musician and singer. She is not afraid to voice her own opinions and won't just roll over when something doesn't go her way. Also, since Apollo is the God of Music, having a musician in the society would make a good pair.

When I think of flaws in my society, I feel I can rule out any issues regarding supplies. Not only is Demeter Goddess of Agriculture to grow food, but Gabriel can literally create anything out of nothing: food, money, even other people, and he can create them to be as real as you or me. Stability, however, may be an issue. I feel as though in my society Gabriel and Demeter would lead it. Gabriel can create anything, and he is an Archangel. Demeter is one of the oldest gods in Greek Mythology. She has enough power to make Zeus, King of the Gods, cower before her if she wants, through control of the earth and the seasons. Apollo does not strike me as the kind of god to seek power, in all the myths I know of, he is only concerned with love or when someone underestimates his own power...although that might be a problem as well.

The thing with Greek Gods is that they are very proud. If they are in any way disgraced or underestimated, they turn vengeful very quickly. Having two gods in my society probably is not a smart move, along with Gabriel. Gabriel, when he fled to earth, disguised himself as the Norse God Loki, the Trickster God. For centuries, he targeted the high and mighty and brought them down a peg, often with a sense of humor. Thanks to him, many would get their "just desserts". So having Gabriel in a society with other Gods may not work out, although, in one episode of Supernatural, it did show him actually acknowledging and behaving around other gods, so it could go either way, depending on how you look at it.

Supposing Gabriel and the Greek Gods get along, however, I feel my society will work. They never have to worry about going hungry or dying off, because Demeter can grow food, and Gabriel can create other people. Apollo is the God of Healing and Medicine, and can keep the people healthy. Then, all that matters is the Arts, of which Apollo is the God of, Intelligence, of which Beast is very profound, and Good Times, of which Pink can surely facilitate.

Ideal Society

For my ideal society, I chose Apollo, Gabriel the Archangel, Dr. Hank McCoy (Beast), Lara Croft, and Demeter.

Apollo is the God of the Sun, Prophecy, Medicine and Healing, Music, Poetry, and the Arts, etc. I chose him because he is a god, and there are perks to being a god, such as immortality. He is one of my favorite Greek Gods because he has a wide sphere of power. Not only he is patron of the arts, so he can provide the society with music, literature, artistry, and all that, but he is also the god of healing and can heal the society, keeping them healthy.

Gabriel The Archangel, as portrayed in Supernatural, is, in my opinion, one of the best Archangels on the show. He fled from heaven and hid himself as the Norse God Loki, the Trickster God. He has a jester sense of humor and can entertain the society. He can also warp and manipulate reality, as well as create things from thin air, which is how he plays his tricks on people. As an Angel, he is also trained as a warrior of the Lord and can fight to defend the society. "Archangels are heaven's fiercest weapons."

Dr. Henry "Hank" McCoy is the X-Man known as Beast. He is incredibly intelligent in most arts and sciences, but specifically world-renowned in the fields of biochemistry and genetics. He is a teacher at the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, and can teach the society on whatever it needs to be taught. His intelligence, paired with Gabriel's ability to create, allow are the proper advancement society needs.

Lara Croft, tomb raider: she is very athletic and skilled with weaponry and combat. She is also very wealthy, and can provide the society with any wealth in might need and store it like a banker. She can also procreate.

Demeter is the Goddess of Earth and Agriculture. She can farm the earth for food, as well as control the seasons and weather if need be. She is very motherly, and as a result is the matriarch of the society, its leader. She is a goddess of Justice, meaning she can lead and keep order amongst the society. She can also hold her own in battle, as her rage was strong enough once to force Zeus, Lord of the Sky and King of the Gods, to do her bidding.

My Society focuses and the Arts and Stability. We need to be able to survive and grow, but also be able to occupy and entertain ourselves once we do.

Code of Courtly Love

-Attraction to the other person.

-Know that you are now secondary. Their needs come before your own.

-Lovesick, can't get them out of your mind? A good sign you love them.

-Friendship and camaraderie. Have fun with them, and make sure they have fun with you.

-Be sure that they are the object of your devotion, nothing less. Do not engage with false feelings, and do not lead them on. Never lie to them.

-When ready, confess your feelings. Pray that they reciprocate.

-If they do not reciprocate your feelings, respect their wishes, even if it's not what you want. If you truly cared, what you want would not matter. They should be all that matters.

-Be theirs, because they are not yours. Exist for them, because they do not exist for you. Cherish every moment.

-Make them happy, by whatever means necessary. If they frown, be the one to turn it upside down. Make every day better for them than the last.

-Look in their eyes like they're your favorite tv show, hold their hand, hug them like a life preserver. Make sure they know how much you love them, and never let them forget it every day you're with them.

Essential Question #4

In Hrothgar's final farewell to Beowulf,the leader of the Danes offers Beowulf two pieces of advice. The first is to always remember and thank God, the second to never succumb to pride. Hrothgar offers an anecdote of a man who comes to power through the glory of God. God makes this man the ruler of a country which he is able to rule prosperously. Nothing bad ever happens to the man, until he starts to get pompous. Arrogance consumes him and he forgets about God, instead focusing on himself, his wealth, and his achievements. Ambition grows, and what made him happy before is now insufficient. He greedily craves more. The man then dies, another man taking up the throne in his place. Hrothgar sums his story up with these words to Beowulf: "Arm yourself, dear Beowulf, best of men, against such diseased thinking; always swallow pride; remember renowned warrior, what is more worthwhile--gain everlasting. Today and tomorrow you will be in your prime; but soon you will die, [...] all too soon, O warrior, death will destroy you" (Lines 742-752). Hrothgar's message to Beowulf is simple: "Do not let all of this fame and power go to your head. Instead, make a name for yourself so that your name can live forever. Remember that even with your strength, you are still mortal, and that some day you will die. Remember God and thank Him for all that he has done, and do not stake your faith in earthly possessions." Man is finite; his time on earth is short, and that time must be spent doing the right thing and serving God, the only thing that is infinite. I think that Beowulf will get caught up in his power and forget Hrothgar's word. In the end, Beowulf will forget about God and rely on his own strength, which will in turn insure his end.

Essential Question #3

In the poem, Wealhtheow is Hrothgar's queen, playing hostess to all the men of Heorot. We see her as as "adorned with gold"(606). First, she offers the mead-cup to the King, then to all others of the hall until she comes to Beowulf, to whom she hands the cup and praises God that he has come, and that she "might depend on some warrior for help against such attacks" (619). Since she is the only "good" female in the poem (the only other female being Grendel's mother, whom we can assume is a villainess), and a queen as well, we can assume that she is meant to portray the ideal Anglo-Saxon woman. It is interesting to note the meaning of her name. In the footnote concerning her name, it is said that "Wealhtheow" means "foreign slave". Wealhtheow may be British or Celtic as well, explaining the foreign part. In the poem, it also describes her as "mindful of ceremonial" (605) and "excellent in mind" (615) This shows that her actions are the proper, ceremonial mannerisms to be exhibited by Anglo-Saxon women, and she is mindful of her place. Anglo-Saxon women, therefore, are expected to be inferior to Anglo-Saxon men, somewhat of a "slave" to them, mindful of their place in society, and dependent on stronger men. Anglo-Saxon women, as Wealhtheow, appear to be the common "damsel-in-distress" type.

Essential Question Numero Dos

To understand the social obligations of a hero, I think you first need to settle on your definition of hero. I do not know about most people, but when I hear the word 'hero', I think of masks, capes, and technicolor spandex, with witty catchphrases and crime-fighting gadgets. Comic books, no matter how nerdy they are, help to discern the heroes from the plain old good guys. Fighting the villain, setting an example for society, and saving the day--these are all thing heroes should do, but I don't think they are absolutely necessary to be a good hero. In fact, not all of them have to be 'good'. Batman was a vigilante: He didn't fight for good, nor evil, but he fought for Gotham City. Batman fought for what was right,and right is not necessarily 'good'. Sometimes you have to break the rules to truly do the right thing. That is the obligation of a hero--to fight for what's right, even if it's not thought of as good. A Hero can be the epitome of virtue or a poster child for vice--all that matters is that they endeavor to do whatever it takes for the right reasons.

Ess? Part B

I believe that Shakespeare is rather progressive in his portrayal of Lady Macbeth because she is not like we would expect women of that time to be. In Macbeth's time, I doubt it would be suitable for a woman to speak out of turn let alone plot to kill the current King of Scotland, and succeed in doing so. She exhibits a level of cunning and mastery that rivals the other men of the play, including her own husband. Macbeth was apprehensive of murdering the King, but Lady Macbeth was in fact the one who stepped up and told him to put on his big boy pants and kill the guy. She took charge when her own husband could not. Compare her to another Shakespearean leading ladies--Juliet Capulet and Desdemona. Both are the typical archetype of a woman in Shakespeare's time: inferior to the men in their lives, be it Juliet with her father or Desdemona with Othello. Lady Macbeth, on the other hand, ordered her husband around and stood up as a progressive woman of her time. Even if she was a villain, that only proves how progressive Shakespeare has written her character. It shows that she was cunning and calculating enough to become a villain in the first place, where most other women of her time probably would not have had the gall to even do that.

Outliers Prompt 1

Scott Pero
AP English Language—Mr. George
May 25, 2010
Outliers Prompt 1

I have always been an intellectually inclined student. As far back as I can remember, I was always the student who loved being a student. I think part of that was because of my inherent intelligence. I value humility, so it’s really weird boasting my intelligence; I do not like to do it often. Even so, I always earned decent grades, but that was because school naturally came easy to me. After reading Outliers, I am guessing my IQ contributed significantly to that fact. I have an IQ of 134, which, apparently, is enough to finish a graduate program. Also, though, now that I think about it, there were other factors that acted in an inverse manner to push me more toward academic success.

Whether genetically, or simply because I was too lazy as a child, I was always a big kid. I tried sports, but I just was not as good at them as other kids were, partly because I could not keep up with them. A perfect example is soccer. I played for six years as a kid, but I got bigger and just stopped playing. I love soccer and wish I could play it, but I physically do not think I’m capable. So, rather than apply myself to sports, I turned to academics and books. Because my physical self was not up to par, it made my intellectual self all the more prominent.

I have benefited from AP English because, I believe, it has helped me figure out my path in life. Up until this year, I wanted to be a veterinarian. I only took Honors English Classes because English was fun and in all honestly, I liked being in Honors rather than College Prep. It wasn’t until AP that I thought of turned my love of English into a career. It also helped me prepare for college, in a way. In theory, AP English was a college level course. If I could endure it, I could endure college. I think I have done well this year, and that makes me think I’m ready for college, thanks to AP.

The Trojan Lion

Scott Pero
AP English Language—Mr. George
May 17, 2010
Me Talk Pretty One Day writing sample
The Trojan Lion

Resistance is…what? If you felt the uncontrollable urge to finish that sentence with the word “futile”, chances are, you are a nerd. And I don’t mean the good grades kind of nerd. I’m talking full out comic book loving, Star Trek watching, video game high-scoring geeks. You may think you know what nerdy is. My response to you is thus: …BAHAHAHAHA! After which I would promptly wipe the cascading tears of laughter from my eyes and hold my stomach like it was about to fall off. Unless you know my friends and me, you do not know what a true nerd is.

They are all nerdy in some type of area. And yes, nerdiness can come in different types, much like Mt. Dew with its 800 different flavors. My friends and I all differentiate in terms of our readings on the nerd-o-meter, but I must be the Grand High King Nerd of them all. My crown would be fashioned from old school game controllers and 20-sided die, my lustrous, flowing cape made from taped together comic books. Why am I the Chief Numero Uno with a pocket protector? Because I share in all of their nerdy tendencies. And I never realized what utters geeks my social group was until we tried introducing Troy into our band of friends.

From the get-go, I immediately likened the situation to a lion trying to coexist with a family of meerkats. The lion was bigger, more powerful, and looked out of place roaming the savannah with a herd of the sorriest animals on the Serengeti. I don’t know about you, but when I think of the name Troy, I picture someone with strong arms and a macho cleft in his chin, someone who would be right at home in a huge wooden horse in the war of the famous city for which he was so fittingly named. What we meerkats got was not so far off from our expectations. He was around 16 or 17, a junior, like us. Even so, however, Troy’s biceps and pectorals, straining beneath his T-shirts, would not look out of place beneath Grecian Battle Armor. Though he had no pronounced cleft that we could find, his hair was the type many romanticists would classify as “thick, wavy locks”. We Athenians were surprised. We expected a Trojan, not Achilles.

We first knew Troy was the complete opposite of us when we first hung out. Upon walking around town, we wondered why everyone was walking out of our way. Normally, we would be forced to blend through the oncoming crowd, and face the risk of inevitable dangers, like the White Collar Massacre of ’02, during which Harold had taken on a horde of businessmen, emerging with one black eye, two fractured ribs, and a terrible burning sensation no one could really ever explain to this day. Suffice to say, he was awarded a medal of honor for his bravery on that fateful day. Ever push past someone when you’re walking through a city street? Yeah, we’re those people. But when Troy joined the ranks, we were able to cross a crowded city square with no broken bones or bruises, not even a scratch. A young boy the age of 4 even came up to Troy asking if he was Superman. We were then dubbed the annoying reporters following Superman around to get his identity. The sad part was, we were the ones wearing the shirts that made us look like superheroes, and we had the thick-rimmed glasses that made Clark Kent an every day person. We were a collective invisible man. Troy was the pair of floating sunglasses that made us visible.

Troy was a transfer student, but when asked why he transferred, he responded with, “I just moved.” Our nerd hive mind would not accept that bland and cliché answer. There is nothing worse than a nerd’s imagination, and we soon devised plausible (to us) reasons why this boy now attended our school. “Maybe he’s an undercover agent sent to keep an eye on the first batch of government-created superteens!” Colleen suggested. “Perhaps he’s a mass serial killer that jumps from school to school, picking off anyone with a GPA of 4.0 or higher.” Spenser mused. “He might be sent from the Gods of Olympus to choose their next hero.” Daphne pondered. Huh. Now there was an idea. Troy certainly seemed Godly enough by our standards. I took it upon myself to quiz him on his Greek Mythology. Big Mistake:

“Who’s Persephone?” I’d casually inquire.

Troy would deliver his blank stare, then respond cautiously, “That’s the stuff they give you for like, syphilis, right?” There goes that theory. Anyone who would mix up the Goddess of Spring with Penicillin was not a demigod. They were probably a Roman.
Another thing about nerds—we don’t get out much. We don’t tan, we combust. Fresh air may trigger an asthma attack, and if we stray too far from our trusty inhaler, we may be forever crunching our math problems from the comic store in the sky. During one of our weekly game nights—chock full of RPGs and strategic board games—Troy arrived with a massive black plum in place of his right eye. We immediately began to think up reasons for it: He forgot to use a power-up, there was a complication during the beaming process, or that he didn’t have the +20 Defense bonus from the Shield of Azaroth. Troy was still fuming from whatever happened, and exploded with a litany of fucks and shits, crudely getting the point across that he’d been in a fight. There was an excited hush the swept across the gang like the plague. He actually swore, rather than use fudge or Sugar Honey Iced Tea—something we could only dream of in our wildest, fairly frequent daydreams. We’d heard of physical fighting before, but we always thought our highly developed intellects could get ourselves out of it, if push came to mental shove. Apparently, he had fought someone who had insulted him. That was another thing we didn’t understand. Why resort to brute violence, when silently loathing the person from afar seemed to work just fine? I noticed Eugene inconspicuously examining his rubber band muscles, then cringing when he saw Troy’s truck tires flex. None of us could fare in a fight like Troy could. We’d be lucky if we didn’t have a panic attack within the first few seconds.

The pièce de résistance of our unorthodox relationship with Troy was his immense physical ability. Most of us intellectuals tend to sneak through PE by feigning some farfetched illness or forging a doctor’s note. Troy, though, barreled through the gym battlefield, armed with merely two dodge balls he liked to jettison with the force of an artillery cannon. Befriending Troy gave us the advantage we finally needed. He steered clear of pummeling us to death, as was the usual game of dodgeball, but instead chose to massacre everyone else instead. The greatest day of PE history was when every bully lay face down and shellshocked from Troy’s mighty blitzkrieg. Nerds 1, Everyone Else Zip!

Being intellectually inclined, the gang had never heard of this concept called “sports”. We asked if Troy meant laser tag or live action role playing when he said he had a sports game coming up, and wanted to know if we could make it. We agreed, but as soon as he left, we divvied up the research load and set to work discerning what exactly a “sports” was. We figured it was some new-fangled trading card game, in the same vein as Magic: The Gathering or Yu-Gi-Oh. What we deciphered was that sports, as they were so called, were duels of physical prowess, each with a specific set of regulations and tasks one must complete. Truly fascinating. Sports were comics for the popular kids, video games for the jocks. Our only task now was to observe this newly discovered species of pastime in the field.

We stepped out of our research transport, thanking my mom for driving us, and ventured into the unknown. Apparently, this specific sport was called “hockey”. I guessed it was invented by masochists, because even the spectators froze their limbs off just from the stands. We theorized, though, that the cold was one of the challenges of the game. Only later did we see that it kept the ice from turning into a pool, and according to natural science, one couldn’t really skate on water. Another factor that I believed linked the ice rink to masochism was the amount of violence that occurred per game. Had Conan the Barbarian lived in modern times, he would have strapped on a pair of skates and grabbed a puck in a heartbeat. Troy would have pulverized the mighty warrior though. Another sport that Troy monopolized was basketball. This was the sport my group of ragtag scientists had the most difficulty making sense of:

“It appears that the object of the game is to pass the ball through that net.”

“And what does that accomplish? Points in random ones and twos whose total must be higher than the other team’s to win? Then why does one not simply walk over and do the deed manually?”

“Apparently the ball must be dribbled, rather than walked. Perhaps a rite of passage in order to get to the hoop? There must be some reward or punishment if each team viciously protects their own net. Have you come up with anything for these ‘mascots’ yet?”

“Crude representations of the idols each team worships?” To this day we still do not understand the game fully, and don’t even get us started on conversions. But one thing we did understand each time we endured another attack on our intelligence: the smile that ruled Troy’s face when he saw us at each game. This was the same smile that made every female in our high school, and even some of the males, go weak at the knees. And here it was, showcased solely for us. If nerds are anything, we’re loyal. We aren’t athletic. We’re not up on current trends. We can’t even talk to the opposite sex without breaking out into hives. Troy can do all of that, and look good while doing it. He was normal, but he always sat with us at lunch and we always helped him with homework. We were his friends when he had none. From the moment we met Troy, we knew he wasn’t a nerd. But after Troy met us, he didn’t think we were either.

PoDG Essay

Scott Pero

AP English Language-Mr. George

February 23, 2010

After reading The Crucible, The Scarlet Letter, and The Picture of Dorian Gray, compose an argument on the subject of sin that incorporates characters from all three texts. Do you believe it is more successful to publicly bear your sins, or to deal with them privately? Be sure to distinguish a character’s end from how they deal with their sin.

Private Sin vs. Public: Round Two

Everything has its opposite. Every yang has its yin, every shadow has its light, and every evil has its greater good. Duality is an integral part of nature. For anything to truly be what it is, it needs something to exist to make it such. Without night, would day be what we imagine now? The contrast between something and its opposite is the best way to define anything. Even human nature consists of duality. Everyone sins, but it is our vices that best define our virtues. The good we draw from sinning is magnified by the sin itself. But how do we deal with that sin? Do we bear it in silence, or proclaim it from the mountaintops? Sin is best dealt with publicly, as demonstrated by the characters of The Crucible, The Scarlet Letter, and The Picture of Dorian Gray; the characters suffered from concealing their sins and benefited from revealing them to the world.

Like all secrets or emotions, if one keeps it bottled up inside, the result will be anything but propitious. Abigail Williams, the lecherous vixen of The Crucible, exemplifies this fact. Abigail sinned by sleeping with a married man, but she does not confess. Instead, she keeps it a secret, and uses it to fuel her actions. She ignores the fact that she has sinned, instead passing it off not as a sin, but as a loving act with truth behind it. Abigail obsesses over John so much that she tries to accuse his wife of witchcraft, using her sin as her motivation: “It were a fire you walked me through, and all my ignorance was burned away…God gave me the strength to call them liars, and God made men listen to me, and by God I will scrub the world clean for the love of Him! Oh John, I will make you such a wife when the world is white again!” (Miller 150). Abigail ignores her sin, and even goes so far as to bask in it, saying that it was strength sent from God. Denial is not just a phonetic version of a river in Egypt, it is exactly what Abigail does throughout the entire novel. She condemns others to their deaths, fueled by sinful passion. She masquerades as the mouthpiece of God, but is driven by sacrilege. Ultimately, her internalized sin is the reason Abigail’s fate is the worst of The Crucible’s main characters.

Because Abigail dismissed her sin, the sin was never resolved. It festered inside her, building and building without release. This is an excellent commentary on Miller’s part. The characters that do not confess their sin end up with horrible fates, but those who reveal their sin to the world for judgment are rewarded with absolution. Abigail’s plans are foiled by the man she so vehemently desired, and because of this, she flees, taking her sin with her. The bottled up sin haunts her, weighing her down like a constant rain cloud hovering over her. No matter what she does to stay dry, she will always end up drenched: “The legend has it that Abigail turned up later as a prostitute in Boston” (146). Abigail could have sought redemption for her sin, but instead, she denied its existence and kept it secret. Because she did not confess her sin, her iniquity followed her and she eventually became a prostitute. Undoubtedly, this fate could have been avoided if she had come clean about her sin. Dorian Gray, similar to Abigail, ignored his sin and kept it private, believing it to be pleasure in disguise.

Dorian Gray was extremely handsome. It is his one defining characteristic that stays true throughout The Picture of Dorian Gray. Dorian’s beauty compels the artist Basil Hallward to paint a portrait of Dorian. The picture’s celestial beauty, coupled with the influence of Basil’s friend Lord Henry Wotton, leads Dorian to his first great sin out of vanity: “‘I shall grow old, and horrible, and dreadful. But his picture will remain always young. […] If it were I who was to be always young, and the picture that was to grow old! For that […] there is nothing in the whole world I would not give! I would give my soul for that!’” (Wilde 28). Dorian unconsciously sells his soul so that he may live perpetually beautiful. He will never age, never wrinkle, and the portrait will bear the consequences of his actions instead of Dorian himself. Dorian soon discovers that not only does the portrait decay with age, but that it changes with each sin he commits. Dorian is unaffected, and everything he does has no repercussions on his own beauty. Dorian sees all of it as pleasure with no negative side effects. The effects in question slide off of him and affect the portrait, much like water sliding from a duck’s down.

Dorian’s sins affect the portrait, not himself. This is the ultimate free pass to life for Dorian—to have a scapegoat that bears all of life’s pain and suffering, while he only experience life’s ecstasies and joys. The portrait grows wretched from his sins, and so he hides it in his attic, shutting it off from the world: “No one could see it. He himself would not see it. Why should he watch the hideous corruption of his soul?”(125). Dorian’s portrait allows him to see the effect his actions have on his soul, a luxury no one has ever had before. Dorian, however, hides it away so that no one, not even himself, can see it. Dorian is the physical representation of keeping one’s sin private, or in Dorian’s case, locked in one’s attic. He simply sees the sins affecting his soul, but does nothing about them. Eventually, the culmination of this sin will lash out at Dorian.

Throughout the entire novel, Dorian has concealed his sin from the world in the form of his hidden portrait. Toward the end, however, he starts to feel the repercussions of his actions, especially for the murder of his friend, Basil Hallward. Dorian begins to see for the first time the extent of the damage he has done to his soul, and knows what he must do: "Yet it was his duty to confess, to suffer public shame, and to make public atonement. There was a God who called upon men to tell their sins to earth as well as to heaven.” (228). Dorian makes the choice to do good in hopes that the portrait will reverse itself. He actively wants to do the right thing. Despite the fact that he had ignored everything for the entire book, in the end he knows what to do. He knows he should confess, but he is simply unable to. No one would believe his story. It is far too preposterous. The important fact is that he knows and wants to both do good and confess. He simply does not have the means by which to do so. He may not actually confess or make his sin public, but the mere mindset of wanting to do so offers him a different fate than Abigail. She ignored her sins until the end, but Dorian knows he should make his sins public, and wants to do something about it.

So what does Dorian do? He stabs the only thing that will rid him of the burden he feels weighing him down—the painting. He wants his sin absolved and freed from his conscience, and the only way for Dorian to do that is by using the knife he had used to kill Basil: "As it had killed the painter, so it would kill the painter's work, and all that that meant. It would kill the past, and when that was dead he would be free. It would kill this monstrous soul-life, and without its hideous warnings he would be at peace. He seized the thing, and stabbed the picture with it" (229). By stabbing the painting, Dorian has stabbed his soul, effectively killing himself. The portrait is where his soul lies, and to finally release it, Dorian must destroy the cage that keeps it. His soul is now free to affect Dorian as it would have if he had not sold it away. This does two things. The portrait is free of Dorian's wretched soul, leaving it pure and perfect, just as it was meant to be. Dorian, however, must now take back the burden of his soul, and all the baggage that comes with it. The portrait's soul was dead long before Dorian took it back, and so Dorian was killed from the sheer severity of sin his soul had endured over all these years. The desire to be rid of his sin, which stemmed from and included the desire to make it public, drove him to his fate. What, though was his fate?

Dorian never told anyone of his painting, and those he did ended up dead. His sins are private and never shown to anyone, but he earnestly wanted to change. The desire to change still counts towards one’s redemption: it is the idea, not the action that counts. Because Dorian wanted to change for the better, he is redeemed in death. In the one moment in which all of sins caught up with him, Dorian was punished for them, and, as Dorian believes: "There was purification in punishment" (226). Dorian endured the punishment that has been waiting for him all his life, and in that punishment, he was purified. Dorian saw his portrait and said that, "when that was dead he would be free" (229) and that, "without its hideous warnings he would be at peace" (229). The portrait is dead, and Dorian must no longer endure its hideous warnings. Therefore, he is free and at peace. Dorian dealt with sin privately, but at his pivotal moment in the text, tried to deal with it publicly and come clean about his sins. The mere purpose of trying to release one’s sins publicly can redeem any sinner, as Dorian has exemplified. John Proctor also, like Abigail and Dorian, dealt with his sin privately, but unlike Dorian, he actually took action in regards to his sin.

John Proctor, the man who committed lechery with Abigail in The Crucible, tried to restrain his sin like Abigail. He too ignored his sin, but did not deny its sinful nature. Proctor knew he sinned, and it plagued him every day. He felt the remorse of his sin, but he also knew he had to keep quiet. It would ruin his name in the town of Salem, and that was the one thing he did not want to lose. For this reason Proctor tells no one about his sin, hoping—though he certainly feels the repercussions—that the magnitude of his sin will someday pass. His wife, Elizabeth, is the only other person besides Abigail that knows of his sin. Proctor not only tries to let his sin pass, but he is angered over the fact that Elizabeth brings it up: ““I wilted, and, like a Christian, I confessed...Some dream I had must have mistaken you for God that day. But you're not...and let you remember it! Let you look sometimes for the goodness in me, and judge me not” (Miller 55). The weight of Proctor’s sin was too much to bear, and so he confessed to his wife. Still, though he confessed, he is not free of his sin. His wife remembers, and as long as she remembers, so does Proctor. If neither had mentioned it, the threat of the sin would slowly diminish over time until it was a distant memory, but because it constantly made its presence known, it forced him to reveal his sin to the public.

In due time, Proctor revealed his sin and was met with salvation. Abigail, in her seige of terror on the town of Salem, condemned many—including Proctor’s wife, Elizabeth—as witches, all to have Proctor to herself. Proctor knew this was the real reason behind her actions, and the thought only added to the weight bearing down on him. He was constrained by his remorse, Abigail’s treachery, and the threat to Elizabeth’s life to reveal his sin to the world: “I have made a bell of my honor! I have rung the doom of my good name” (111). Not only does he confess to lechery, but he besmirches his own name in doing so. The sin and its aftermath grew to be too much, and burst violently out into the open. This will, ultimately, lead to his redemption, as Elizabeth states: “He have his goodness now. God forbid I take it from him!” (145). Because Proctor revealed his hidden secret, he attained redemption. If he did not free himself from the monstrous sin within, he would not have been able to ascend into absolution, but because he did, he was free of guilt and remorse. Proctor died, but he died for a cause he believed in, content to do so. Though Proctor kept his sin private for so long, the important fact is that he confessed in the end, making his sin public.

Like Proctor, Reverend Arthur Dimmesdale of The Scarlet Letter internalized the pain of his sin. Dimmesdale committed adultery with another woman, Hester, and sired a child with her. Dimmesdale, being the man of the cloth that he is, hated himself every moment for indulging in sin. He desired to be free of the sin more than anything, and he wanted the truth to be known. He could not, however, because he was so highly esteemed by the people. If their perfect reverend had sinned, it would cripple their entire faith. When he tries to hint at the wicked iniquity that plagues him, they only venerate him more: “They heard it all, and did but reverence him the more…he had spoken the very truth, and transformed it into the veriest falsehood. And yet, by the constitution of his nature, he loved the truth, and loathed the lie, as few men ever did. Therefore…he loathed his miserable self!” (Hawthorne 131). If Dimmesdale hated himself before, he utterly detested his very existence after his congregation did not believe him. It is through this perpetual cycle that Dimmesdale’s torment haunts him. He keeps his sin private, and in doing so, only burdens himself further. Dimmesdale even goes so far as to punish himself: “In Mr. Dimmesdale’s secret closet, under lock and key, there was a bloody scourge. Oftentimes, this protestant and Puritan divine had plied it on his own shoulders; laughing bitterly at himself all the while, and smiting so much the more pitilessly because of that bitter laugh” (132). Dimmesdale not only holds everything in, but literally and figuratively whips himself because of his sin. By internalizing his sin, he is only hurting himself more.

The only way for Dimmesdale to be free of his anguish is to make his sin public, but he is unable to because of the priesthood. This predicament troubles him for seven long years, during which he deteriorates physically and spiritually from both the pain he has inflicted upon himself and the pain of his sin. He is unable to rid himself of his sin until his last dying moments, where he admits the evil he has done to his entire congregation without fear: “With a convulsive motion, he tore away the ministerial band from before his breast. It was revealed!...the minister stood, with a flush of triumph in his face, as one who, in the crisis of acutest pain, had won a victory” (228). Dimmesdale won against his sin when he was finally able to confess. He was freed of the burdening chains his sin had constricted about him, and he was able to die at peace with the world. Dimmesdale, in making his sin public, conquered his enemies and was accepted by his daughter, who had, until his confession, shunned him. Everything was right with Dimmesdale, and all because he publicly confessed his sin to the people.

Hester Prynne, one of the protagonists of The Scarlet Letter, exemplifies the advantages of publicly bearing one’s sin. Hester slept with Dimmesdale even though she was already married, sharing in his sin of adultery. She deals with her sin like the rest of the characters, but the difference between Hester and the rest is that they chose to reveal their sin; Hester was forced to confess because she grew pregnant with her child, Pearl. Her secret was thus discovered due to the outward manifestation of her sin: “But the point which drew all eyes, and…transfigured the wearer…was that SCARLET LETTER, so fantastically embroidered and illuminated upon her bosom. It had the effect of a spell, taking her out of the ordinary relations with humanity, and enclosing her in a sphere by herself” (50). Hester’s sin was made public from the beginning, and she was forced to wear the scarlet ‘A’ because of it. Both the scarlet letter and her child were symbols of her sin, which, once derived, Hester bore proudly for all to see. She reveled in her sin, and because it was out in the open, she was partly freed from it. If she had somehow been able to keep it secret, she would have to bear it entirely. Because the entire town knows her sin, however, it is not only Hester’s to bear, but everyone else as well. She has gotten over the crucial step of admitting to the sin, and now because of that, she is not alone in dealing with it.

For seven long years, Hester endured the pain of the scarlet letter, but it was not all bad. In the beginning, she was ostracized from society and had to endure the condescending looks of others, but Hester took her pain and put all of her shame to good use: “Hester bestowed all her superfluous means in charity, on wretches less miserable than herself, and who not unfrequently insulted the hand that fed them” (77). Hester used her skill with a sowing needle to embroider for the town, without asking anything more. Having already accepted her role as a devilish sinner, she endeavors to partake in charity as a saint. She uses her public suffering to better herself. After years of Hester’s beneficence, the people began to see her differently: “Individuals in private life…had quite forgiven Hester Prynne for her frailty; nay, more, they had begun to look upon the scarlet letter as the token, not of that one sin…but of her many good deeds since” (147). Not only did Hester improve as a person, but her sin proved an effective way of bettering her stance in the public eye as well. People thought more of her, because she was able to do so much in spite of sinning so seriously. In the end, after her story had long since finished, she was even buried at King’s Chapel, a prestigious cemetery that anyone would be honored to lay to rest in.

All of the characters of the three stories had to cope with their sins, and all of them suffered in some way from that sin. The defining characteristic that shines through their tenebrous transgressions, however, is how they dealt with them. They were all sinners, but what they chose to do with their sin is what defines their end. Abigail ignored her sin, and viciously used it to her advantage; as payment, she spends the rest of her life in prostitution. Dorian indulged in hedonistic sin, letting his portrait take the brunt of the repercussions, but when he wanted to do something about it and make his sins public, he was redeemed. Proctor tried to let his sin pass, but he was soon left with no other alternative but to divulge his secret publicly. Because he did, he was able to die for a noble cause with his name untarnished. Dimmesdale punished himself in private for seven years before he was able to confess his sin to the public, but when he finally did, he was freed from the pressure of it and was able to die at peace with the world. Hester openly bore her sin for all to see, and used its publicity to better herself. Three out of the five characters publicly confessed their sins, with one extra trying to publicly confess, and those same few are the ones who die at peace. As The Crucible, The Scarlet Letter, and The Picture of Dorian Gray demonstrate, publicly bearing your sins is better than locking them away inside. Publicity is the first step towards freeing yourself from the sin. Privacy only allows the sin to consume you until all that is left is the desire you had confessed sooner.

Works Cited

Hawthorne, Nathaniel. The Scarlet Letter. New York: Bantam Dell, 1986

Miller, Arthur. The Crucible. United States of America: Penguin Books, 1976

Wilde, Oscar. The Picture of Dorian Gray. New York: Barnes & Noble Books, 2003

PoDG Character Analyses

Scott Pero

AP English—Mr. George

March 30, 2010

Dorian Gray

Dorian Gray is a narcissistic hedonist whose portrait ages for him after he is cursed with eternal youth.

Dorian is young and naïve, and on top of that, incredibly handsome. His beauty inspires his friend and artist Basil Hallward to paint Dorian’s portrait. While Basil is painting the portrait, Basil’s friend Lord Henry infects Dorian with his ideologies and witticisms, one of which is the importance and beauty and how it is fleeting. When Dorian sees the painting, he is angered that it will never age, while he does age. Dorian is obsessed with beauty, and, stemming from that, obsessed with pleasure. He would give his soul if the portrait aged while he did not, and, as he soon finds out, he got his wish: "Eternal youth, infinite passion, pleasures subtle and secret, wild joys and wilder sins--he was to have all these things. The portrait was to bear the burden of his shame" (109). Dorian sins excessively in order to attain pleasure and is not affected by any of it. His portrait, however, decays as he would normally. Dorian is also incredibly narcissistic and proud. He knows he is beautiful, and only cares about something if it pertains to him.

Dorian is like a marionette puppet. Basil acts as his maker, and Lord Henry is the puppeteer. Lord Henry leads Dorian around by his strings, telling him what to do and what to think. Dorian, the helpless puppet that he is, cannot do a thing about it except blindly accept and do what he is told. Meanwhile, Basil has had his puppet taken from him and used for a puppet show he was never intended to perform in.

Dorian and Narcissus of Greek Mythology: both are so obsessed with their looks that they lose their humanity in pursuit of it.

Scott Pero

AP English—Mr. George

March 30, 2010

Basil Hallward

Basil Hallward is an introverted artist who cares for a person that only lives to use him.

Basil Hallward is the artist that painted Dorian Gray’s portrait. He is very shy and quiet, and only seems to talk honestly with his two friends, Lord Henry and Dorian Gray. He is great friends with Dorian, and cares for him more than anything: “Of course I flatter him dreadfully. I find a strange pleasure in saying things to him that I know I shall be sorry for having said. As a rule, he is charming to me […] Now and then, however, he is horribly thoughtless, and seems to take a real delight in giving me pain” (13-14). Basil can never think anything bad about Dorian, and always wants the best for him even if Basil is hurt in the process. The only thing that matters to Basil more than his art is Dorian, because he is “the one person who gives to [Basil’s] art whatever charm it possesses: [Basil’s] life as an artist depends on him” (16). Dorian is the ultimate muse for Basil, and as such, Basil worships him. Dorian, on the other hand, could really care less for Basil after he met Lord Henry. Still, though, Basil persists until his untimely death at the hands of the very person he cared for, perhaps even loved.

Basil is like a parent caring for a young child. The parent would do anything to make sure that their child is safe from harm, and that they make the right choices. The child, however, feels that the parent is being to obsessive and becomes rebellious, lashing out at the caring parent.

Basil and Ray from The Princess and the Frog are a lot alike: they both care deeply for something that does not reciprocate; for Basil it is Dorian, for Ray, it is a star.

PoDG Witticisms

Scott Pero
AP English--Mr. George
March 29, 2010
Witticisms

"Women are like rivers one must wade through. The only trouble with water is that it cannot decide whether to tempestuously bombard you one moment or refreshingly soothe you the next."

"Art is simply a masquerade, a pretty picture masking the empty air behind it."

"Mirrors are always such a let-down. Mine always show someone I do not know."

"Rainy days are my best friends. They encourage me to catch up on sleep and keep me safe from the people I would otherwise be forced to see in the sunshine."

"A smart man looks at a paper and knows it is paper, while a genius man looks at it and knows the myriad of things he can do with it."

"To hate is to worship with reason. To love is to worship without it."

"Emotions are to the soul what muscles are to the body—their means of strength."

"Religion is simply a rule book for those who do not have their own."

"Music is the drug of the intellectual, and literature their alcohol. Society is their means of sobriety."

"Friends are the enemies you enjoy fighting with."

PoDG End of the Book

1.) "Yet it was his duty to confess, to suffer public shame, and to make public atonement. There was a God who called upon men to tell their sins to earth as well as to heaven. Nothing that he could do would cleanse him till he had told his own sin" (Wilde 228).

Throughout the entire novel, we see Dorian has concealed his sin from the world. No one knew of his monstrous portrait, and the few who did ended up dead. We see that for most of the novel, Dorian is perfectly fine with keeping his sin private, much like Abigail was in The Crucible. The difference between Dorian and Abigail, and even distinguishing between Proctor as well, as that, like Proctor, Dorian acknowledges his sin, but, different from Proctor, Dorian can actually see the consequences of his sin plainly before his eyes. Still, he chooses to ignore it. It is not harming him, so why should it matter? Toward the end, however, he starts to feel the repercussions of his actions. He makes the choice to do good, in hopes that the portrait would reverse itself. He actively wants to do the right thing. Despite the fact that he had ignored everything for the entire book, in the end he knows what to do. He knows he should confess, but he is simply unable to. No one would believe his story. It is far too preposterous. The important fact is that he knows and wants to both do good and confess. He simply does not have the means in which to do so. He may not actually confess or make his sin public, but the mere mindset of wanting to do so has to count for something.

2.) "As it had killed the painter, so it would kill the painter's work, and all that that meant. It would kill the past, and when that was dead he would be free. It would kill this monstrous soul-life, and without its hideous warnings he would be at peace" (229).

We see that Dorian has succeeded in killing himself and ending his misery. He knows that his actions do not affect him, but that they affect the portrait instead. Anything he might do to himself would probably just alter the portrait in some way and leave him unharmed. Suicide is a sin, therefore trying to kill himself would simply mar the portrait even more. The only way to kill himself is to kill the portrait. That is where his soul lies, and to finally release it, Dorian must destroy the cage that keeps it. His soul is now free to affect Dorian as it would have if he had not sold it away. This does two things. The portrait is free of Dorian's wretched soul, leaving it pure and perfect, just as it was meant to be. Dorian, however, must now take back the burden of his soul, and all the baggage that comes with it. The portrait's soul was dead long before Dorian took it back, and so Dorian was killed from the sheer severity of sin his soul had endured over all these years. So, Dorian is dead and the portrait is back to normal, but what of Dorian still? Was his end good or bad? Did he get the redemption he wanted, or was he cursed to eternal damnation. I believe the book tells us he was redeemed. Dorian sees his portrait and says that, "when that was dead he would be free," (229) and that, "without its hideous warnings he would be at peace" (229). The portrait is dead, and Dorian must no longer endure its hideous warnings. Therefore, he is free and at peace. Dorian may not have had to withstand the punishment from his actions, but his soul did. When it was reunited with him, Dorian took in all of the punishment that he had been pushing off. Dorian believed that, "There was purification in punishment" (226) and that, "Not 'Forgive us our sins' but 'Smite us for our iniquities' should be the prayer of man to a most just God" (226). Through punishment, the soul can be purified. Forgiveness leaves us with no idea of how our sin has affected us, but punishment justly redirects the sin back onto us. Dorian had endured some punishment near the end of his life, such as the burden he felt of his sins and the desire to be freed from his curse. His true punishment came when he was reunited with his soul. Through that punishment, Dorian was purified. Through his desire to be free and to do good, Dorian was redeemed.

PoDG Ch. 16-18

1.) "'To cure the soul by means of the senses, and the senses by means of the soul.' Yes, that was the secret. He had often tried it, and would try it again now. There were opium-dens, where one could buy oblivion--dens of horror, where the memory of old sins could be destroyed by the madness of sins that were new" (Wilde 189).

This is just like in Chapter 11. Dorian is using other vices to distract himself from the ones he's already given in to. By indulging in opium, he could forget everything that has happened to him. It is like the reset button on a video game. The only thing is, eventually, the same mistakes you made in the first level will catch up with you again. Dorian is looking for a clean white slate in a world full of black smudge marks. He's trying to find purity in drugs and the shady parts of town: "He wanted to be where no one would know who he was. He wanted to escape from himself" (193). His sins, especially Basil and Sibyl, are catching up with him. Those are two human lives that are no more because of his influence. Both are weighing down his conscience, and so he only wants oblivion: he wants everything to be erased and forgotten. That whole approach just seems childish to me, like he is some 5-year old. He messed up, and so now, instead of dealing with his wrongdoings, he wants a band-aid over his boo-boo and someone to kiss it to make it all better. Nothing is that easy, though. It is understandable, I guess, why he will not take responsibility for his actions. He is all about pleasure and a hedonist--nothing about responsibility would appeal to him.

2.) "Romance lives by repetition, and repetition converts an appetite into an art. Besides, each time that one loves is the only time one has ever loved. Difference of object does not alter singleness of passion. It merely intensifies it. We can have in life but one great experience at best, and the secret of life is to reproduce that experience as often as possible" (201).

Though I've never had a relationship, I think I've read and watched enough to understand this quote. When we love, we think that that love is the greatest, heavenliest thing imaginable. When that love does not work out, though, we think we did not truly love. then, when the next comes along, that love is the greatest. Hence, romance could be considered repetition. Just because it is a different love, does not mean that the severity of our passion is not any different. We still feel that same way. The last part of the quote applies particularly to Dorian: "We can have in life but one great experience at best, and the secret of life is to reproduce that experience as often as possible" (201). All Dorian tries to do is reproduce his pleasure. Dorian wants everlasting life, and so he tries to reproduce his 'great experience' as much as he can. That great experience is his youth, and so he lives as a youth, though now he should be nearly forty. He tries to act like a child, because he believes if he keeps acting like, his appetite for beauty will be quenched and he will stay beautiful.

PoDG Ch. 15

1.) "'No, I don't mean that. I didn't go to the club. I walked about. I forget what I did...How inquisitive you are, Harry! You always want to know what one has been doing. I always want to forget what I have been doing. I came in at half-past two, if you wish to know the exact time. I had left my latch-key at home, and my servant had to let me in. If you want any corroborative evidence on the subject you can ask him'" (Wilde 186).

Basil's death still haunts Dorian. Otherwise, Dorian would not be so fidgety and jumpy as he is when talking to Henry. Henry is simply asking him what he did the night before. What does Dorian do? He lashes out, turns the tables and goes on the offensive. Rather than answer the question forwardly, he complains that Henry always has to know everything about him. He equivocates, saying he forgets what he did. He goes out of his way to establish proof of what he says he did that night, as if he were being interrogated and needed an alibi. All Henry asked was if he went to the club or not. Dorian is still troubled by Basil's death. His memory is what made Dorian trip up like that. I think that murder is finally catching up to Dorian. Dorian has been able to commit a world of sin without batting an eye, but murder is an entirely new step for him that is far too much. Not only did he murder anyone, but he murdered a friend, a friend that cared about him and wanted the best for him. Basil, in turn, got a knife to the neck. I think that Dorian has been able to endure every sin up to this point: murder is the straw that broke the camel's back. Of course, this would have to concede that actually has a conscience and moral ideals, which I'm not entirely sure of. He may though, have sense enough to know the severity of his crime.

2.) "It was a small Chinese box. [...] He opened it. Inside was a green paste,* waxy in luster, the odor curiously heavy and persistent'" (188).

At the end of chapter 15, we are left with a question: what is inside the box? What is this paste that Dorian feels the need to see so suddenly? It is like he tried not to take the box out, which was hidden in what sounded like a secret compartment. Why would this be hidden, and why would Dorian hesitate to open it? The footnote at the bottom of the page gives us some insight: "*Wilde scholar H. Montgomery Hyde suggests this may be a poison or aphrodisiac drug" (188). If it turns out to be the latter, then my prediction will be completely null and void. If, however, this paste was the former, if it was a deadly poison that Dorian has hidden away in house, it may be more important. It sounds as though Dorian has been considering suicide. Before, at Lady Narborough's party, Dorian speaks of the end of the world: "'I wish it were fin du globe,' said Dorian, with a sigh. 'Life is a great disappointment'" (183). Dorian is basically saying that the world has no more interest for him. It is all one big let-down. This statement certainly does seem to exude such a pessimistic air on Dorian's part. I can not help but think of why Dorian would want to kill himself if he in theory could not be harmed. The portrait would take any wear and tear that his body would naturally go through. Any wrinkles lines age the portrait and not himself. That, though, makes sense why Dorian would want to end his life. It is the same radical concept of killing yourself when you are happiest. That way, you will leave at your happiest, and you will never be less happy. In Dorian's case, he cannot be any less beautiful than he is already, but he has already experienced everything he would have wanted. Killing himself now would mean that he would die beautiful. This is something he always wanted: immortal beauty. If he ends his life now, he would avoid the risk of his deal somehow ending too soon, or any other unforeseen detail. He could strike first before he himself is stricken down. I also think that it is a combination of this and the fact that he has murdered one of his friends that drive him to suicide. Murdering a friend is usually a big deal.

PoDG Ch. 14

1.) "'You leave me no alternative. I have a letter written already. [...] If you don't help me, I must send it. If you don't help me, I will send it. You know what the result will be. But you are going to help me. It is impossible for you to refuse now. I tried to spare you. You will do me the justice to admit that. You were stern, harsh, offensive. You treated me as no man has ever dared to treat me--no living man, at any rate. I bore it all. Now it is for me to dictate terms'" (Wilde 175).

Dorian does some serious acting in this chapter. It is interesting to note Dorian's behavior in his interaction with Alan Campbell, a spurned friend that Dorian calls for. At first, he pleads with Campbell to help him, worrying over the consequences should Dorian be found out. All the time, he acts like a damsel in distress, waving around a handkerchief for the knight to save her. After Campbell refuses to help him, Dorian completely switches gears. He turns into a completely different person, from damsel in distress to dastardly villain. He has completely switched personalities. He goes on to say he tried to spare Campbell from whatever earth-shattering threat he wrote on the paper, making himself look better while condescending Campbell.It reminds me of the quote on page 146: "Is insincerity such a terrible thing? I think not. It is merely a method by which we can multiply our personalities" (146). Dorian did not really care what happened to Campbell, did not really care about the friendship they had. Campbell is only a tool for Dorian to manipulate. Dorian exemplifies the quote because his insincerity created an entirely new personality for him to masquerade. The new Dorian is actually quite scary. He says to Campbell that, "'You were stern, harsh, offensive. You treated me as no man has ever dared to treat me--no living man, at any rate'" (175). The only other man to treat Dorian sternly, harshly, and offensively was Basil, and look what happened to him. Dorian turns Basil's death from something he fears into something he can use to coerce Campbell to help him. Dorian has had a taste for evil, and now he cannot stop.

2.) "What was that loathsome red dew that gleamed, wet and glistening, on one of the hands, as though the canvas had sweated blood? How horrible it was!--more horrible, it seemed to him for the moment, than the silent thing that he knew was stretched across the table, the thing whose grotesque, misshapen shadow on the spotted carpet showed him that it had not stirred, but was still there, as he had left it" (178).

No one likes change. It complicates things a lot of the time. People grow accustomed to the norm, the familiar, and the regular. When something changes even slightly, it can screw everything up. It is just like new seating plans in school--the perfect example. A student has grown accustomed to a certain seat. They've acclimated themselves to their spot in the classroom, gotten used to the people around them, and made that seat their own. Then, suddenly, the student is given a completely new seat. It may not seem like a big deal, but in some way, it can be frightening. It brings with it a world of new things to get used to. The new seat does not feel like the old one. The student can not see the board in the same way. The people they had just gotten used to are halfway across the room. This seat, too, will take a while to get used to. No on like changes, and people fear the new and foreign. They do not know about it, and so they fear it. This is the case when Dorian sees the portrait contrasted with Basil's body. Normally, we would consider a dead body far worse than a painting, but in this case there is something morbidly comforting about Basil's corpse. The painting, as it has for the entire novel thus far, has changed. It now shows for all to see the literal blood on Dorian's hands. Basil, though, remains unchanged. His body has stayed in the exact same spot. It has not moved at all, and has not changed. There is something comforting about the familiar. Dorian is relieved to find that Basil's body is the one thing around him that has not changed.

PoDG Ch. 12-13

1.) "'You told me you had destroyed it.' 'I was wrong, It has destroyed me'" (Wilde 161).

Dorian has gone over the edge, and it is all because of his portrait. Rather than serving as a moral guide to Dorian, it has had the adverse affect of driving him completely towards evil. Ever since it was made, Dorian has descended into a life of villainy and mischief. The more he indulged, the more his hunger consumed him, until the former innocent Dorian Gray was no more. Dorian has completely changed, so much so that his former self is gone. That former self is trapped inside the painting, and with each sin the new Dorian commits, the old Dorian suffers for. To me, that is what the painting seems to do: mock the old Dorian with the actions of the new one. These marks then drive him to continue his evil streak. The painting has driven Dorian to murder his friend, the same friend who painted the portrait in the first place, almost as if the painting has developed a mind of its own and wished to kill its creator like Frankenstein's monster: "An uncontrollable feeling of hatred for Basil Hallward came over him, as though it had been suggested to him by the image on the canvas, whispered into his ear by those grinning lips" (162). Dorian only felt this was when he saw the painting, and it seemed to come out of nowhere. Dorian no longer has a conscience. That conscience has been sealed away in the painting, and consequently tainted by evil. The painting has a mind of its own now, a mind that tortures and punishes Dorian soul while spurring him on, only so that it can keep inflicting pain onto his soul.

2.) "'What is it that one was taught to say in one's boyhood? 'Lead us not into temptation. Forgive us our sins. Wash away our iniquities.' Let us say that together. The prayer of your pride has been answered. The prayer of your repentance will be answered also. I worshiped you too much. I am punished for it. You worshiped yourself too much. We are both punished'" (162).

I don't think Dorian is even able to repent. He himself has no sins. It is his portrait that bears the sins for him. He committed them, but he does not need to repent for them. He is like the messenger. What he does has no effect on himself. He is only doing what he is told. Repentance and religion in this book is quite different from The Crucible and The Scarlet Letter. In The Crucible, the townspeople were not able to repent because they had no ritual to. In The Scarlet Letter, the we are presented with either privately or publicly bearing sins. With Dorian, he is all three combined. He publicly bears his sins in private, and cannot absolve himself of them. No one sees the portrait, but it showcases his sin visually. There is no way to rid the painting of those sins. They are forever stuck on the canvas, which is what Dorian meant when he responded that, "'It is too late'" (162) to Basil's plea. The sins have been committed, and there is nothing Dorian can do about them. In another sense, the portrait defies God. As basil says, "'Yes,' answered Hallward, gravely, and with deep-toned sorrow in his voice--'to see your soul. But only God can do that'" (156), only God can see one's soul. The portrait, however, can see the true state of Dorian's soul. Not only can it see it, but it displays it for all to see. This sounds like a slap in the face to God. Something man-made can do what before only the celestial could do. I feel like the only way for the sins to be removed from the painting is Dorian's death. that way, his soul is released, leaving the painting in its original state.

PoDG Ch. 11

1.) "He grew more and more enamored of his own beauty, more and more interested in the corruption of his own soul" (Wilde 131).

Throughout the novel thus far, we have grappled with the question as to what purpose Dorian's portrait will serve to him. Will it give him the freedom of doing whatever he likes with no negative side effects? Or will it instead serve as a moral guide, a conscience, leading Dorian down the right path? It seems as though, in this chapter, however, our question is answered with a third option. The portrait serves both purposes. It both spurs him on with his life of sin and it causes him to think critically about that life in the process. Dorian remarks at how the painting changes, and yet he stays the same: "He would examine with minute care, and sometimes with a monstrous and terrible delight, the hideous lines that seared the wrinkling forehead or crawled around the heavy, sensual mouth, wondering sometimes which were the more horrible, the signs of sin or the signs of age" (131). Dorian sees the marks that plague his portrait but do not plague him, and he delights in the fact. He sees it as his way of treasuring life, and continues what he is doing: the very things that cause the marks in the first place. In this case, it forms a vicious cycle that Dorian is caught him. He sees the wrinkles, which only cause him to cherish his own youth beauty, which in turn will allow him to continue causing the wrinkles on the painting. The picture also, however, served as a horrid reminder of his sin: "For these treasures, and everything that he collected in his lovely house, were to be to him means of forgetfulness, modes by which he could escape, for a season, from the fear that seemed to him at times to be almost too great to be borne" (142). The portrait not only allows Dorian to do whatever he wishes, but also reminds him of the consequences. Knowing the horrible aging the portrait was undergoing, fear crept upon Dorian, that his life was causing it. The portrait shows him that, and he fears for it. He sees that the consequences do not affect him, but at the same time, is worried about those consequences, and tries to occupy his time with other things to forget about them.

2.) "And, certainly, to him Life itself was the first, the greatest, of the arts, and for it all the other arts seemed to be but a preparation" (132).

This concept comes up a lot in this chapter--the concept that life itself is more important than anything else. Dorian seems to live by this. He lives as a hedonist, solely focusing on living life and the arts are nothing to compared the feeling that you are truly alive. The arts teach you how to live, which is what Dorian sees in them. The arts are like the dress rehearsal for life: by succeeding in each of them, you know you are ready to experience the final show in the best way you can. By knowing how to conduct and express yourself through acting, music, and literature, you can live a better and finer life. Dorian lives this, because, "no theory of life seemed to him to be of any importance compared with life itself" (136). Dorian sole focus is on living a full and rich life, no matter what way he chooses to live it. All of those things are just warm-ups compared to actually living one's life.

PoDG Ch. 9-10

1) "'Don't talk about horrid subjects. If one doesn't talk about a thing, it has never happened. It is simply expression, as Harry says, that gives reality to things'" (Wilde 111).

Dorian is such an airhead! He is an absolute idiot. The woman he loved just died, and here he is wanting to talk to Basil about his recent paintings. How can you get over something like that so quickly? Dorian is far too capricious. Everything in life to him does not matter, at least nothing material. He only cares about the abstract and the beautiful. It does not matter to him that Sibyl died, only that her acting had been good for a while. Sibyl was the only thing keeping Dorian innocent, somewhat. Now that she is gone, Henry has consumed him. He always speaks of Henry and of Henry's ideas. Once more, Dorian is the puppet dangling from Henry's fingers, no matter how much he thinks otherwise. He quotes him constantly, and Henry's beliefs have become Dorian's. He is helpless to change anything, he is simply putty in Henry's hands. It is actually pretty frustrating to read, because Dorian is so oblivious to it all. He is being dominated by a foul man who only cares to lead him astray, and he thinks that man is God on earth. It is utterly frustrating.

2.) "Yet he could not help feeling infinite pity for the painter who had just made this strange confession to him, and wondered if he himself would ever be so dominated by the personality of a friend" (119).

Is Dorian really so dumb? He wonders what it would be like to be dominated so by the personality of a friend. Meanwhile, Henry dominates Dorian's entire life. Henry teaches Dorian what to say, what to do, what to think. He is looking down on Basil's behavior in a somewhat condescending manner, but at the same time, Dorian is the same way with Henry. Dorian is pitying Basil, who just poured explained his deepest secret to his greatest muse, a feat that was probably very difficult for Basil to say. Not only that, but Basil's admiration of Dorian was not even explained fully: "'It was a confession. Now that I have made it, something seems to have gone out of me. Perhaps one should never put one's worship into words'" (119). One should not put their worship into words because words can never fully describe the true feelings someone may have. They may describe them to a great extent, but words can never truly capture the essence of what one feels. So, Basil did all this for Dorian, and Dorian is simply sitting there, wondering about what it would be like to admire someone so and separating Basil's situation from his own. Dorian has no intelligence, only beauty. With intelligence, someone would be able t realize what was going on around him. All Dorian has is a beautiful face, but nothing going on behind it but vanity and narcissism.

PoDG Ch. 7-8

1.) "'If this girl can give a soul to those who have lived without one, if she can create the sense of beauty in people whose lives have been sordid and ugly, if she can strip them of their selfishness and lend them tears for sorrows that are not their own, she is worthy of all your adoration, worthy of the adoration of the world. [...] The gods made Sibyl Vane for you'" (Wilde 86).

This is exactly what Sibyl does for Dorian, and she does it all through her own death. Ever since Dorian met Lord Henry, he has lived without a soul. Though he was beautiful, his life was an ugly one, until he met Sibyl. For once, Dorian was not selfish. He loved her and cared about her. He felt for the Shakespearean characters she played, and for all of her own troubles, though they were not his own. Dorian loved her. Dorian explains it perfectly himself: "'The mere touch of Sibyl Vane's hand makes me forget you and all your [...] theories'" (82). Sibyl made him a better person. He did not care for Henry's input any more, because Sibyl took Henry's place in Dorian's life. Before Dorian knew that Sibyl had died, and he still thought she was alive, he even took a stand against Henry: "'I know what you are going to say. Something dreadful about marriage. Don't say it, Don't ever say things of that kind to me again'" (101). Sibyl was Dorian's ticket out of Henry's vile grasp, hence why she was made by the gods for Dorian, as Basil put it. The gods gave Dorian beauty, but that beauty was meant to be for a certain time. Dorian, on the other hand, tried to outwit fate and traded his soul so that his portrait may age while he does not. That was going against the gods wishes. Only after Dorian makes the deal does he meet Sibyl, sent by the gods as a sort of repentance. If Dorian follows her, he will not be damned. When he forsakes her bad acting and leaves her, Dorian screwed up his chances. He took a gift from the gods and threw it in their face. Because of that, the gods took her life, as punishment. Sibyl was Dorian's one last chance at humanity, and, as Henry once said, "'what the gods give they quickly take away'" (24).

2.) "Eternal youth, infinite passion, pleasures subtle and secret, wild joys and wilder sins--he was to have all these things. The portrait was to bear the burden of his shame, that was all" (109).

So now we finally have it. The confirmation that the portrait ages while Dorian does not. Not only does the portrait age, however, it portrays the consequences of his sin. It serves as a reminder for his sins. No sin can go unpunished, and since Dorian must remain forever young and innocent, the picture must become his scapegoat. Dorian 's portrait works a lot like the down of a duck. A duck swims all day and gets wet all the time, but the water just slides off of its feathers. It's the same way with Dorian. Dorian commits the sins, but rather than affecting him, they slide off of his soul and mar the painting. In this respect, the portrait serves the function held in classic beliefs about mirrors. Many mythologies and legends state that mirrors are the gateway to the soul, that they reflect someone's true nature. This is the entire basis for the superstition that if you break a mirror, you have 7 years of bad luck--you are literally breaking your soul. In Dorian's Case, the portrait has become his soul. He no longer has one, but his portrait does. In order so that he may have the life he wanted, he gave his portrait his own life to age and deteriorate for him. I feel however, that this will rob Dorian of any feeling. If he doesn't have his soul, that he cannot feel his actions in the moral sense, only in the physical. He will indulge in pleasure, but in doing so, he will lost sight of what he is doing. Hunger will replace conscience, and appetite will replace reason. With his soul locked in the painting, he will be lost to desire.

PoDG Ch. 5-6

1.) "He was like a common gardener walking with a rose" (Wilde 69).

For a brother and sister, Jim and Sibyl are incredibly different. They're like the two opposite ends of a magnet--they're cut from the same cloth, but are totally different characters. Sibyl is more whimsical and capricious. She thinks everything should be a fairytale, and that everything will end up like the ending to a storybook. Jim, on the other hand, is grouchy and very protective of his older sister. He automatically thinks that any man who is with his sister is out to wrong her, and he wants to kill her. Perhaps this was because he was the only man in the family for sixteen years. Because there was no one around to be, he, despite his young age, had to step up. He is like Dorian in that respect. Both have ascended into a adulthood at a young age, but whether that adulthood is worthy or not remains to be seen. Still, Sibyl and Jim are complete opposites. They are Pessimism and Optimism in human form. Sibyl walks without a care in the world, yet Jim is constantly self-conscious of the glances of others. They could even be likened to beauty and genius. Beauty is exemplified in Sibyl, and its counterpart, Genius, is depicted in Jim. Beauty's capricious lifestyle is linked with genius's intellectual mannerisms, somehow, as is exemplified in this pair of siblings. Perhaps that is why Dorian falls for Sibyl. She is the representation of beauty and all that comes with it, and Dorian wishes for nothing more but eternal beauty.

2.) "'Her trusts make me faithful, her belief makes me good. When I am with her, I regret all that you have taught me. I become different from what you have known me to be. I am changed, and the mere touch of Sibyl Vane's hand makes me forget you and all your wrong, fascinating, poisonous, delightful theories'" (82).

This could pose a potential threat for Henry. Here we discover that Sibyl is the angel on Dorian's shoulder. She makes him want to do good, and to be good, and makes him happier than Henry's influence at times. Hence, because Dorian is so infatuated and affected by Sibyl, he forgets the theories and ideologies that Henry instills in him. If he does that, that Henry's entire experiment goes down the drain. Henry will have his guinea pig, but nothing to test it on. His guinea pig will be impervious to his concoctions. With Sibyl in the picture, Henry will not be able to conduct his experiment the way he wants to. His data will be forever compromised if Dorian marries Sibyl. He will never be able to influence Dorian so much if he is married. I believe this is why he tries to talk Dorian out of the marriage, at least that's what it sounds like he tries to do, after hearing what influence Sibyl now has over Dorian. Before, his intentions were not any better: "'I hope that Dorian Gray will make this girl his wife, passionately adore her for six months, and then suddenly become fascinated by some one else'" (79). Still, he wants Sibyl out of the picture, whether it is to further enhance his experiment or to prevent it from failure.

PoDG Ch. 4

1.) "'There is always something infinitely mean about other people's tragedies'" (Wilde 58).

I simply cannot fathom Henry. Not only do I find him to be a careless pompous ass, but he contradicts himself at every turn. Sure, he is only arguing the opposite of what he argues because no one but Basil can argue back, but it just does not seem right. Here, he talks about the mean things in others' tragedies, but in the last chapter he contradicted himself: "It posed the lad, made him more perfect as it were. Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic" (39). Here, Henry wanted to learn about Dorian's past and tragedies, yet twenty pages later, he tells Dorian that it was a good thing he did not ask to learn more about the tragedies of Sibyl Vane. The contradictions continue, as Henry says, "'You always come dreadfully late'" (58). Here, Henry comments on Dorian always arriving late to their arrangements, but earlier on in the same chapter, Dorian himself stated that Henry is always late: "He was always late on principle, his principle being that punctuality is the thief of time" (48). Why is Henry commenting on Dorian's faults when he himself exhibits the exact same ones? Perhaps, however, there is a deeper motive than the hypocrisy we see at first glance. Henry loves experimenting on Dorian, and morphing Dorian into a replica of himself. Henry himself comments on the nature of experimentation on others: "It often happened that when we thought we were experimenting on others, we were really experimenting on ourselves" (63). Possibly, then, by experimenting on Dorian, what Henry is really doing is tampering with how to make a new version of himself. Perhaps he is trying to rectify the faults he sees in himself in Dorian, to see what he could possibly be like if he did not have them.

2.) Human life--that appeared to him the one thing worth investigating. [...] And yet what a great reward one received! [...] To note the curious hard logic of passion, and the emotional colored life of the intellect [...] What matter what the cost was? One could never pay too high a price for any sensation" (61).

This grapples with the entire concept of the novel: Is the entire world worth one's soul? If it were possible to give up our soul and receive the entire world in return, would we do it? It is a very intriguing question. There are things we tell ourselves we would do anything for--a car, getting into a good college, the requited love of that special someone. Those are just some of things we wish for so vehemently, but would we be willing to give up our soul for it? Our soul is the very thing that makes us human. It gives us life, and it makes us who we are. So, the question is, should we give up who we are in order to obtain what we desire most? So far, Dorian has accepted this. He would readily give up his soul to remain eternally beautiful. It is what he wants more than anything. We see Henry's influence again, as in the quote on page 61, Henry himself says there is no cost too high for any sensation. Both of them feel this way, and I believe this will ultimately be their demise. To sell your soul is to give up yourself. What good is something if, when you receive it, you aren't the same person as when you wished for it? It is a cursed life. Selling your soul is much like Proctor's obsession with his name. A soul is the same way. You can only have one soul. Once it is lost, it is lost forever. You can not get it back. How do we know we even want the world? It may not be what we expect. The car could break down within its first few miles and never start again. You may get into a good college, but fail out or lose interest. That one person may love you back, but could turn on you in a minute. We are unsure of the outcome, just like Dorian and Henry. There certainly is a limit on the price of the world, because a soul, like a name, is the one thing that is truly our own. If we sell it, we would have really nothing left.

PoDG Ch. 3

1.) "Yes, he would try to be to Dorian Gray what, without knowing it, the lad was to the painter who had fashioned the wonderful portrait. He would seek to dominate him [...] He would make that wonderful spirit his own" (Wilde 40).

Lord Henry has an obsession with Dorian. Not a romantic obsession, exactly, but more like a child's obsession with a brand new toy. Henry, on his own, is very imposing. He establishes his own point of view as though it were law, and even argues for other stances for the sake of arguing. Dorian is the perfect person for him, then. Dorian is young, naive, and easily impressionable. He believes everything Henry says without question, which may explain why Henry argues his counterarguments: there is no one who argues against him. Even Basil merely says Henry does not believe what he says, not that Basil does not believe them. Lord Henry is very influential, and once he sees Dorian, he sees a new plaything in the making. It is a new chance for him to mold another in his vision, to influence someone who is easily influenced and who has never been influenced before, to our knowledge. Henry is making his own mini-me of his own design, an act he enjoys: "To hear one's own intellectual views echoed back to one with all the added music of passion and youth [...] there was a real joy in that" (39). Dorian is not the only character who is vain. Henry enjoys hearing someone else mimic his beliefs, because it tickles his ego. He was the one who taught someone so perfect how to behave a certain way. For Henry, this is all an act of pride.

2.) "'To get back one's youth one has merely to repeat one's follies.'" (44).

I think this will have a great influence on Dorian, like everything else Henry has said. Dorian is sitting only a few feet from Henry, and hears everything he says, so obviously this particular line would stick with him. Dorian is obsessed with remaining young. He dreads getting older and would give anything to not have to. Now Dorian hears Henry say that the secret to getting back one's youth is to repeat one's follies. Hence, I think Dorian will start to commit and recommit mistake, simply so that he will remain young. Henry goes on to say: "the only things one never regrets are one's mistakes" (44). It is a very devil-may-care type of attitude, which Dorian will most likely adopt. He eagerly wants to be like Henry, and contrariwise, Henry eagerly wants Dorian to be like him. If Dorian is constantly and purposefully committing these mistakes, however, the end result cannot be good. Is there not some moral or emotional backlash for willfully doing wrong? Dorian at this point probably does not know any difference between right and wrong, simply what Henry tells him. I believe that, since Henry has said this, Dorian will begin a streak of mistakes he will ultimately regret, all in the name of immortality.