Bloomsbury, £25
Oscar Wilde was the Victorian era’s arch aesthete: beauty, he thought, was valuable for its own sake. This set him apart from the puritanism of his day. So original was Wilde that it is easy to get the impression that his genius came fully formed from within, as though he were bestowed at birth with the ability to coin witticisms.
But in her enjoyable new biography of the Irish playwright, novelist and poet, Emer O’Sullivan argues that Wilde was made by the people around him. Chief among them was his mother, Jane Wilde. She hosted salons and captivated guests at the many dinner parties held at the Wildes’ Merrion Square address in Dublin, where Oscar grew up. O’Sullivan claims, plausibly, that Wilde learnt his formidable conversational skills by listening to the intellectual chatter at his parents’ table.
Wilde also inherited his mother’s patterns of speech. For example, she is quoted here telling her son: “We are above respectability!”—a deliciously Wilde-like phrase. Most importantly, though, she provided her son with constant support. This might go some way to explaining his resilience in the face of later public mockery.
It wasn’t just Jane who influenced Wilde. O’Sullivan argues that his father, William Wilde, had the same tendency towards calamity as Oscar. Artists such as the painter James Whistler are also cited as influences. However, while O’Sullivan does draw a few connections between Wilde’s childhood in Ireland and his work, this book could do with slightly more insight into Wilde’s writing rather than simply his personality.
Ultimately, while the personal life is fascinating, it’s his work that has the power to delight. That’s what we want to know about. Alex Dean
Oscar Wilde was the Victorian era’s arch aesthete: beauty, he thought, was valuable for its own sake. This set him apart from the puritanism of his day. So original was Wilde that it is easy to get the impression that his genius came fully formed from within, as though he were bestowed at birth with the ability to coin witticisms.
But in her enjoyable new biography of the Irish playwright, novelist and poet, Emer O’Sullivan argues that Wilde was made by the people around him. Chief among them was his mother, Jane Wilde. She hosted salons and captivated guests at the many dinner parties held at the Wildes’ Merrion Square address in Dublin, where Oscar grew up. O’Sullivan claims, plausibly, that Wilde learnt his formidable conversational skills by listening to the intellectual chatter at his parents’ table.
Wilde also inherited his mother’s patterns of speech. For example, she is quoted here telling her son: “We are above respectability!”—a deliciously Wilde-like phrase. Most importantly, though, she provided her son with constant support. This might go some way to explaining his resilience in the face of later public mockery.
It wasn’t just Jane who influenced Wilde. O’Sullivan argues that his father, William Wilde, had the same tendency towards calamity as Oscar. Artists such as the painter James Whistler are also cited as influences. However, while O’Sullivan does draw a few connections between Wilde’s childhood in Ireland and his work, this book could do with slightly more insight into Wilde’s writing rather than simply his personality.
Ultimately, while the personal life is fascinating, it’s his work that has the power to delight. That’s what we want to know about. Alex Dean
