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While imprisoned, Wilde wrote this long letter of recrimination to his lover, Lord Alfred Douglas. It offers fascinating insights into Wilde's life in prison and the background and psychology of a notorious affair.
Title: De Profundis
BiblioBazaar
Item Number: 9781110839506
Publication Date: June 2009
Number: 1
Product Description: De Profundis
Universal Product Code (UPC): 9781110839506
WonderClub Stock Keeping Unit (WSKU): 9781110839506
Rating: 4.5/5 based on 2 Reviews
Image Location: https://wonderclub.com/images/covers/95/06/9781110839506.jpg
Weight: 0.200 kg (0.44 lbs)
Width: 0.000 cm (0.00 inches)
Heigh : 0.000 cm (0.00 inches)
Depth: 0.000 cm (0.00 inches)
Date Added: August 25, 2020, Added By: Ross
Date Last Edited: August 25, 2020, Edited By: Ross
Price | Condition | Delivery | Seller | Action |
$99.99 | Digital |
| WonderClub (9288 total ratings) |
Hogey Hogey
reviewed De Profundis on September 23, 2017"Now it seems to me that love of some kind is the only possible explanation of the extraordinary amount of suffering that there is in the world. I cannot conceive of any other explanation. I am convinced that there is no other, and that if the world has indeed, as I have said, been built of sorrow, it has been built by the hands of love, because in no other way could the soul of man, for whom the world was made, reach the full stature of its perfection. Pleasure for the beautiful body, but pain for the beautiful soul."
Το «De profundis» γÏάφτηκε στη φυλακή, σε διάÏκεια Ï„Ïιών μηνών το 1897. Είναι μια πεÏίεÏγη εξομολόγηση. Ένα ξεχωÏιστό ÎγγÏαφο. Μια θÏησκευτική μαÏÏ„Ï…Ïία. Μια φιλοσοφική διατÏιβή. Μια κÏαυγή απελπισίας και θάÏÏους.
Το οξÏμωÏο στην επιστολή αυτή αποτελεί το γεγονός πως απευθÏνεται αυστηÏÏŽÏ‚ Ï€Ïοσωπικά σε κάποιον αποδÎκτη ενώ παÏάλληλα είναι Îνα εξαιÏετικό λογοτεχνικό ÎÏγο για δημόσια Ï€Ïοβολή.
Στην ουσία είναι μια «εκ βαθÎων» ψυχής εξομολόγηση του ÎŒÏƒÎºÎ±Ï ÎŸÏ…Î¬Î¹Î»Î½Ï„. Το κÏκνειο άσμα ενός τεÏάστιου Ï€Î½ÎµÏ…Î¼Î±Ï„Î¹ÎºÎ¿Ï Î´Î·Î¼Î¹Î¿Ï…ÏÎ³Î¿Ï Î¼Îµ μια αφοÏιστικά καταÏαμÎνη κÏαυγή πάθους και εσωτεÏικής ποιότητας του Ουάιλντ Ï€Ïος τον ίδιο του τον εαυτό.
Το θÎμα του είναι μια Ï„Ïαγωδία πάθους. Μια εκφÏαστική δυνατότητα ενός απίστευτα ÏÎ¿Î¼Î±Î½Ï„Î¹ÎºÎ¿Ï ÎºÎ±Î¹ εÏωτευμÎνου με τη ζωή και τα πάθη ανθÏώπου που αισθάνεται γÏάφοντας το, ότι μιλάει απο τα βάθη της τελικής του ήττας.
Διαβάζοντας το αισθάνεσαι το σπαÏαγμό και την πτώση μιας τόσο ευαίσθητης και ευφυÎστατης καλλιτεχνικής φÏσης.
Συμπονάς θαυμάζοντας παÏάλληλα την απόλυτη καταστÏοφή μιας υπεÏοχής Ï€Ïοσωπικότητας, που άλλαξε τη φιλοσοφία και την ποιότητα της Ï„Îχνης.
Έναν μοναχικό γίγαντα της αγάπης και της μετάνοιας που ακολουθώντας την καÏδιά του, τον απεγνωσμÎνο ÎÏωτα, τον βίαια εθιστικό δÏόμο της απολαυστικής ηδονής, κατÎληξε να μη γνωÏίζει πλÎον αν τον ζηλεÏουν ή αν τον λυποÏνται. Αν τον συμπονοÏν με θλιβεÏή κατανόηση ή τον χλευάζουν με Ïηχή ευχαÏίστηση.
Ταπεινώθηκε, θυσιάστηκε, Îχασε τα όσα πλουσιοπάÏοχα του είχε χαÏίσει η ζωή απλόχεÏα -απο κοινωνική θÎση, οικογενειακή ευτυχία, οικονομική ευμάÏεια, πνευματική καλλιÎÏγεια, εως καλλιτεχνική ανÏψωση στο θÏόνο της Ï„Îχνης. Και παÏαδόθηκε στην τιμωÏία άνευ ÏŒÏων.
ΑποδÎχτηκε τον δημόσιο εξευτελισμό. Τον χλευασμό των εχθÏών του. Την Ï€Ïοδοσία των φίλων του. Το χαμό αγαπημÎνων του Ï€Ïοσώπων και Ï€ÏοσωπικÎÏ‚ απώλειες ανυπολόγιστης αξίας.
ΣυνηθισμÎνος να μιλάει με αβίαστη ανωτεÏότητα, φαίνεται να Ï€Ïοκαλεί την Ï„Ïαγωδία της μοίÏας και τη γεμίζει με μια σÏγχÏονη φάÏσα που πηγάζει απο το κοινωνικό καθεστώς.
Όταν γÏάφει ειναι σαν να μιλάει με νότες, σαν να συνθÎτει τη μουσική που ταιÏιαζει ακÏιβώς στην ανομία και την κατάντια της ζωής του.
Είναι Îνας άÏχοντας υψηλής πολιτιστικής κληÏονομιάς και διαχÏονικής αξίας.
Ο διασυÏμός, η βιαιότητα, τα αισχÏά και φθηνά κουτσομπολιά, η στÎÏηση πνευματικής εμπειÏίας και το Ïηχό αίσθημα, όσο κι αν αÏμόζουν στην κατάσταση που αναγκάστηκε να ζει, δε του ταιÏιάζουν, είναι ψεÏτικα, σαν το χÏυσάφι του Μήδα.
Î Ïοσπαθεί μÎσα απο την εξομολόγηση του να εκλογικεÏσει τα δεινά του. Για να αντÎξει. Βιώνει κατάψυχα και κατάσαÏκα τη θλίψη. ΠιστεÏει πως πίσω απο κάθε πόνο, κάθε θλίψη, υπάÏχει μια ψυχή που αξίζει να αγαπιÎται, που στÎκεται σε συμβολική θÎση με το ίδιο το μυστικό της ÏπαÏξης.
Αναγάγει τη μοίÏα του σε κοινή και πανανθÏώπινη. Δεν υπάÏχει κανείς, διατείνεται, που να είναι τόσο άθλιος όσο ο ίδιος, να ζει σε παÏόμοια αθλιότητα με τη δική του και να μην «πάσχει» για το μυστικό της ζωής.
ΠιστεÏει στην πνευματική μοÏφή του Î±Î³Î½Ï‰ÏƒÏ„Î¹ÎºÎ¹ÏƒÎ¼Î¿Ï ÎºÎ±Î¹ του Ï€Ïοσδίδει μια τελετουÏγική γλώσσα και μια κοσμική αξίωση, όπως αξίζει σε κάθε θÏησκεία.
Είναι βαθιά ατομιστής, όπως ήταν κατά την άποψη του και ο ίδιος ο ΧÏιστός.
ΙσχυÏίζεται πως η φυλάκιση του τον αποδÎσμευσε απο κάθε υλική αναγκαιότητα και ενίσχυσε την αυτοπεποίθηση του.
Η απόλυτη ιδÎα που κάνει την αυτοκαταστÏοφή του ενα όνειÏο επανεκκίνησης είναι η λογική της Ï„Îχνης.
Η Ï„Îχνη, που κάνει το φανταστικό Ï€Ïαγματική ÏπαÏξη και ενώνει την Ïλη με το πνεÏμα.
Ιδανικός επαγγελματίας της ανώτατης Ï„Îχνης σÏμφωνα με τον Ουάιλντ είναι ο ΧÏιστός.
Ο ΧÏιστός που Îκανε τα πάντα για να καταλάβουν οι άνθÏωποι πως το βασίλειο των ουÏανών ειναι η ίδια η ψυχή τους. Δίδαξε πως η αγάπη ειναι ομοÏφότεÏη απο το μίσος και η μετάνοια ο μοναδικός Ï„Ïόπος για να αλλάξει κανείς το παÏελθόν.
Αγάπησε τους αμαÏτωλοÏÏ‚ πεÏισσότεÏο απο τους ευσεβείς και τα σκοτάδια τους.
Η τελική αποτίμηση του συγγÏαφÎα είναι η αποφασιστικότητα και η θÎληση να μεταμοÏφώσει την ψεÏτικη αξία του Ï…Î»Î¹ÎºÎ¿Ï ÏƒÎµ αισθητικό θησαυÏÏŒ.
ÎœÎσα απο τη διαÏκή αξία της Ï„Îχνης η χάÏη της πίστης είναι μια διαÏκής υπενθÏμιση και μια Ï€ÏοτÏοπή για να ξεφÏγει απο το βάθος της δυστυχίας του μÎσω της δημιουÏγίας.
Το De profundis δεν είναι μια δήλωση εξομολόγησης ή μετανοίας.
Αποτελεί ίσως μια εÏθÏαυστη Ï€Ïώτη Ïλη που θα μποÏοÏσε να δημιουÏγήσει τη βάση στήÏιξης ενάντια στην καταβαÏάθÏωση της ανθÏώπινης ζωής.
💜✡ï¸ðŸ’œâœ¡ï¸âœ¡ï¸ðŸ’œðŸ’œ
Καλή ανάγνωση.
ΠολλοÏÏ‚ ασπασμοÏÏ‚!!!
Tammy Lariviere
reviewed De Profundis on January 05, 2010It is funny how sometimes books come at you (and when I say you, I mean me), sometimes almost in clusters. It is almost like there really is a God and He has infinite knowledge of the universe and knows just what it is that you need to be thinking about right about now, except He is curiously shy and so He doesn't like to come right out with it and tell you directly what's on His mind. So, instead, He leaves books lying around in places where you are fairly likely to trip over them and then pick them up and think about them - you know, it's been a while since I read a book about someone rotting away in prison, I ought to read this…
Except, it hasn't been a while since I did anything of the sort. Only the other week I was reading another perfectly good book written by a man who was rotting away in a perfectly good prison and that book also had him thinking about the consolation given to him by philosophy. This book isn't too different from that one (The Consolation of Philosophy Revised Edition). The big difference is that this should probably be called the consolation of art - but other than that I guess the message of both is much the same.
The Message is pretty much that we are alone in the world. If you are to live a life that isn't a cliché you have to learn that most people don't live their own lives, they live lives that should be bound by quotation marks. "Most people are other people." Wilde says himself. They think other people's thoughts, they mouth whatever are the most popular opinions of the day, they watch the same stuff on television that everyone else does and they can even put together sentences grouped into endless paragraphs on subjects of infinite fascination as the merits of the computer generated graphics they saw in Avatar.
If you are going to live a worthwhile life (and isn't that the only question of any interest in the whole of philosophy - which is probably why it is the one question modern philosophy seems to avoid) then Wilde's advice is to at least try to be yourself. He acknowledges that doing that is a hard thing - Christ, they might even put you in gaol if you try that sort of thing - but the alternative is a much worse prison cell and one where you are both prisoner and warder, where you turn the key that locks you in yourself.
Eliot, of course, was wrong - but being a poet he gets to be wrong as long as he is beautifully wrong. We don't think of the key, each sitting in our prison thinking of the key as if that confirmed the prison - the most frightening thing is that we don't think of the key at all - we don't think of the key because to think of the key is to acknowledge the prison. And for most of us that is too much to acknowledge. Prison? What prison?
But there is an escape plan. We are individuals and life is not the ordered, rational, scientifically verifiable and graphed out hypothesis in fifteen variables that someone of the Enlightenment might have decided you ought to think it is. Wilde sees the great conflict of the human soul as being that between Classicism and Romanticism and in that conflict we need to take sides and the side Wilde takes is Romanticism. As he says, "I am one of those who is made for exceptions, not for laws".
And let's face it, we do like our victims to find forgiveness for us after we have meted out our punishments of them. Wilde even discovers Christ, in a sense - though, I think the Christ Wilde discovers isn't quite the same Christ that many Christians would be familiar with. This is not Christ the punisher, Christ the faith-healer or Christ the disappointed friend - but rather a Christ who is wise enough to use children as his example to us of who we should strive to be like. Such a Christ is someone worthy of being followed.
His was a Christ who was the lover of ignorant people, the protector of the exceptions, the defender of those who might just prove to have a great idea.
I thought this was a remarkable book - and a terribly sad book too. Although in the end of this Wilde, like Boethius, is not as bitter with his fate as he could so easily be, although he envisions a future life that is not dedicated to the pursuit solely of pleasure, but rather to a life that also acknowledges darker shades and minor keys; art is seen as the means to free ourselves from the horrors this world presents us with dreadful, if not predictable, regularity.
This was a remarkable book - I found it incredibly moving and often painfully sad. I think, though, that it is often good to be reminded of both the infinite harm we can cause to other people and also the near perfect gift we give that is contained in our simplest act of kindness. This really is a lovely piece of writing.
The stuff on Hamlet is worth reading on its own - nothing is invariably good, and art must also be included in that - Hamlet creating the play within the play in which to watch the effect this causes is Hamlet the artist. Hamlet's madness is Hamlet the actor. And this plays a great part in what is the tragedy of Hamlet.
This is, like so many of Wilde's works, full of quotable quotes and so here are a quick selection of some of my favourites -
"There were Christians before Christ. For that we should be grateful. The unfortunate thing is that there have been none since" -
"A man whose desire is to be something separate from himself, to be a member of parliament, or a successful grocer, or a prominent solicitor, or a judge, or something equally tedious, invariably succeeds in being what he want to be. That is his punishment." -
"I must accept the fact that one is punished for the good as well as the evil that one does".
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