Lord Henry: The Devil on Dorian's ShoulderPaul Campbell

George Sanders as Lord Henry Wotton in The Picture of Dorian Gray (1945) — George Sanders as Lord Henry Wotton in *The Picture of Dorian Gray* (1945)

As reluctant as Dorian himself was to look at his own picture, it's time for us to take another look at The Picture of Dorian Gray. (That novel had an author, it's O-S-C-A-R...) If you think that joke was baloney, you're not alone. If you don't understand that joke, ask your parents.

The aforementioned author of The Picture of Dorian Gray is Oscar Wilde. No relation to Oscar Mayer, although it could be argued that they had similar interests, in a manner of speaking. Moving on! It might seem paradoxical to begin a serious look into the character of Lord Henry with a moronic joke, but where else was I going to put that joke? Besides, a paradox is an excellent beginning for an article focused on the man that Dorian Gray calls “Prince Paradox.” If you have not read The Picture of Dorian Gray, it is a fascinating look into the moral decline which always results from moral ambiguity. To read my blog about Dorian Gray, himself, click here.

There is always a bit of subjectivity when studying the aspects of a fictional character. People see different things—because they see them from different perspectives—and readers will often shape these characters into their own molds, to some extent. This is neither good nor bad, but simply part of the beauty that comes from reading novels. The author and the reader combine their imaginations to create a story that is, in some ways, entirely unique to each individual reader. That being said, there are always at least a few basic facts which the author establishes, and from which we can build a framework to define the character.

Who is the Real Villain?

Lord Henry is often labeled as the primary villain or antagonist in The Picture of Dorian Gray, but can we place all the blame on his shoulders? When the story begins, Lord Henry's arguments seem charming and alluring, but as the story progresses, and we begin to see the results of these philosophies played out in Dorian's life, Lord Henry's character begins to shift into something more hollow, and Lord Henry himself becomes less a charming paradox and more a shallow hypocrite. But if Lord Henry is solely to blame for Dorian's downfall, why is Dorian the only one affected by Lord Henry's arguments?

Dorian Gray is the protagonist, naturally, and goes through significant changes throughout The Picture of Dorian Gray, most of which can be blamed in part on Lord Henry. The novel starts with a Dorian Gray of twenty years old living off a significant inheritance from his grandfather, who raised him after the death of Dorian's parents. There is no love lost between Dorian and his late grandfather. We find out—partly through gossip at the party where Dorian is first introduced, and partly through Lord Henry's uncle—that Dorian's grandfather, Lord Kelso, was unhappy with his daughter's choice to marry below her class, and arranged to have his son-in-law killed in a duel. Dorian's mother goes mad with grief and dies shortly after, leaving Dorian to be raised by this cold, malevolent figure or, more likely, by hired governesses. It was common among the upper classes to hire a governess or several to raise children, especially if there was no mother in the home, and it is highly unlikely that Lord Kelso would take any interest in raising the child of his dead son-in-law, though familial obligations required that he manage Dorian's welfare. This would explain Dorian's almost feminine personality, as there had been no significant masculine role model in his life up to this point. When he meets the charismatic Lord Henry, it is obvious why Dorian attaches himself to Lord Henry so quickly and is transformed so easily into—not the likeness of Lord Henry himself—but the likeness that Lord Henry tells Dorian to be.

Over the next twenty years, Dorian transforms from the innocence of youth into a far more desperate man, capable of the most heinous acts, all in an effort to preserve the illusion of innocence which he has already thrown away. Dorian has a perpetual desire to be 'good,' but has no willpower to accomplish it. Throughout the story, he makes multiple attempts to turn from his hedonistic path of self-destruction, but consistently fails at the slightest obstacle, having no ability to do anything which might cause himself the least discomfort. Dorian is never brought to a point where he is forced to face the consequences of his actions. He always has an easy way out, and he always takes it. Whenever Dorian is presented with an opportunity to 'man-up' and take responsibility for his mistakes, he crumbles under the pressure, too fearful of the consequences to face them. His fortune, charm, and reputation ensure that he is never brought to the point where he is forced to face the consequences—at least openly.

While Dorian consistently appears to avoid the misery which his actions cause others, the true consequences of his choices are reflected in his own character, and can be clearly seen by the reader. He is weak-willed, cowardly, and completely devoid of self-control or sympathy for any but himself. He has no common sense to avoid the problems he creates, and will take whatever action is necessary to avoid personal discomfort, no matter how much misery it creates for those around him. He shrinks from murder not because he has any sympathy for his victims, but because the act makes him feel icky. He indulges every whim. His charm, youth, and wealth all ensure that he can avoid the external consequences, but it is the inescapable internal consequences that ultimately cause his downfall.

Lord Henry, then, is not the primary villain in the story. It is Dorian's grandfather who ultimately fails to provide Dorian with the ability to properly understand and sift Lord Henry's philosophy. Every other character recognizes Lord Henry's philosophy for what it is: bravado and satire. They take his philosophy as amusing, but ultimately absurd. But this does not remove the guilt from Lord Henry either. It is never overtly stated whether Lord Henry recognizes the effects his influence will have on Dorian, or if he thinks Dorian is simply 'playing along' in a sense, but as Dorian's reputation continues to worsen, Lord Henry becomes more and more responsible.

Colin Firth as Lord Henry (left) and Ben Barnes as Dorian Gray in Dorian Gray (2009) — Colin Firth as Lord Henry (left) and Ben Barnes as Dorian Gray in *Dorian Gray* (2009)

Lord Henry: the Devil on Dorian's Shoulder

Multiple studies have shown the devastating effects which radiate from a lack of a positive masculine role model, and The Picture of Dorian Gray is a perfect example. Lord Henry recognizes from the start that Dorian is something of a blank slate which he can mold to any ideal he desires. Being raised exclusively by governesses and a cold and distant grandfather, Dorian has no foundation of positive masculinity which he can fall back on to counter Lord Henry's arguments. Lord Henry's social circle all find him charming, amusing, and entertaining, but none of them take his absurdities to heart. They all know better. Lord Henry himself knows better. Despite his impassioned arguments to Dorian about indulging in every temptation and pleasure, Lord Henry appears to live a fairly static life. He is married, has no social scandals attached to his name, and has no vices which are frowned upon by society. He is entirely detached from Dorian's spiraling reputation. He vocally supports hedonism, but his own life reflects very few of the ideas he promotes. Dorian and Lord Henry's mutual friend, Basil Hallward, recognizes this hypocrisy early on, and succinctly sums it up:

“I believe that you are really a very good husband, but that you are thoroughly ashamed of your own virtues. You are an extraordinary fellow. You never say a moral thing, and you never do a wrong thing. Your cynicism is simply a pose.” - Basil Hallward

While Lord Henry does smoke cocaine-laced cigarettes and is a social drinker, he never appears to allow his habits control over himself. He recognizes the importance of balance, but refuses to acknowledge it. He encourages Dorian to indulge in every hedonistic pleasure, but refrains from doing so himself.

Dorian accurately titles him “Prince Paradox,” not only for his initially charming hypocrisy, but also because his best maxims contradict the ideas they contain, turning common beliefs on their heads in clever and insightful ways:

“It is only shallow people who do not judge by appearances.”

“There is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about.”

Lord Henry stands as both the epitome and the mockery of moral relativism. Without an absolute moral law, morality itself becomes a mockery.

“Modern morality consists in accepting the standard of one's age. I consider that for any man of culture to accept the standard of his age is a form of the grossest immorality.”

Despite this claim, Lord Henry certainly does accept the standard of his age, at least in his actions.

“I can stand brute force, but brute reason is quite unbearable. There is something unfair about its use. It is hitting below the intellect.”

If we are to take The Picture of Dorian Gray as a parable—albeit a complex and layered one—then we can easily see how Lord Henry can play the devil on one's shoulder. Wilde's novel explores several moral and philosophical questions, the contrast between aesthetics and ethics, and the Victorian delusion that good looks and good morals were interlinked.

The mystery of Dorian's perpetual youth and how Dorian's portrait began aging, rather than himself, is left to the reader's imagination. The story is predominantly allegorical, and appears even more so today, set in a far-off and mysterious history of Victorian London that only adds to its fantastical setting.

Lord Henry becomes the voice of temptation; the serpent in the tree who offers Eve the fruit, but does not partake of it himself. Basil Hallward becomes the staid and steady voice of reason, but Lord Henry is far more clever, and though he pretends to consider intellectual thought as vulgar, he wields his own intellect as a dangerous weapon. While Lord Henry stands distant, he is happy to watch Dorian's spiraling decline as he would a scientific experiment, to see how the new 'Hedonistic Ideal' will end.

Lord Henry: the Man Himself

However, if we choose to view Lord Henry as a real man rather than an allegory, we can begin to see his motives and his true philosophy, which revolve around popularity by any means necessary. Lord Henry is witty, charming, and entirely self-centered. He apparently believes nothing of his own spoken philosophy, since he does not adhere to it. What reason, then, would he have to present such views? Lord Henry recognizes that his outlandish views make him stand out. He plays the devil's advocate at parties because he recognizes that doing so makes his presence memorable.

“I like persons better than principles, and I like persons with no principles better than anything else in the world.”

While he may claim this, Lord Henry is perfectly willing to adhere to any principles in society that make him popular, and willing to break any social rules to the same effect.

“I choose my friends for their good looks, my acquaintances for their good characters, and my enemies for their good intellects. A man cannot be too careful in the choice of his enemies. I have not got one who is a fool. They are all men of some intellectual power, and consequently they all appreciate me. Is that very vain of me? I think it is rather vain.”

This is a brilliantly calculated move to make himself more popular. Lord Henry recognizes that each of these selections will increase his social reputation. It could be argued that Lord Henry does adhere to his own philosophy of hedonism, for his greatest pleasure is in being popular. He is clever enough that he never has to admit to being wrong, and it is perhaps this pride that keeps him from trying to stop Dorian's downward spiral, for in doing so, he would have to admit that his ideas were wrong.

It seems that Lord Henry recognizes a problem with the idea of moral relativism, but is unwilling to attack it head on, as such would make him seem like a prude, overly religious, or simply vulgar—all of which would harm his popularity. He instead decides to argue for it, taking society's opinions to their ultimate end, and through paradox, exposing society's own hypocrisy and the ultimate hypocrisy that is the root of moral relativism.

Lord Henry, despite his cries against the intellect, is a philosopher. He views his arguments for moral relativism as merely a thought experiment. He promotes the ideas, but does not act upon them, nor does he truly expect anyone else to act upon them. They are presented to mock the ideas around him. His peers have enough common sense to recognize this, but Dorian does not.

Dorian Gray takes Lord Henry's advice to heart, puts it into practice, and ultimately discovers where such ideas will take him. Most readers view Lord Henry's advice as intentional. Lord Henry wants to see what will happen when his ideas are implemented, but he is too afraid of doing so himself for fear of the social consequences. He counsels Dorian to:

"Live! Live the wonderful life that is in you! Let nothing be lost upon you. Be always searching for new sensations. Be afraid of nothing… A new Hedonism—that is what our century wants. You might be its visible symbol. With your personality and your youth and your looks, you have made yourself a sort of ideal."

Lord Henry basically instructs Dorian to let his senses and emotions be his moral guide. The results are disastrous. However, this may not mean that Lord Henry purposely intends to ruin Dorian's life, nor that he realizes just how low his ideas have brought Dorian Gray. When Dorian finally drums up enough courage to tell Lord Henry that he is a murderer, Lord Henry refuses to believe it.

MGM's The Picture of Dorian Gray (1945) Widely regarded as the best film adaptation to date. — MGM's *The Picture of Dorian Gray* (1945) Widely regarded as the best film adaptation to date.

“I would say, my dear fellow, that you were posing for a character that doesn’t suit you. All crime is vulgar, just as all vulgarity is crime. It is not in you, Dorian, to commit a murder. I am sorry if I hurt your vanity by saying so, but I assure you it is true. Crime belongs exclusively to the lower orders.”

Lord Henry is entirely blinded to Dorian's true character. By the end of the novel, it seems as if Lord Henry is still the same person, proclaiming the life of a cultural rebel while living the life of a cultural conformist. My own novel, Gray Matter, finds Lord Henry five years after the events of The Picture of Dorian Gray, and attempt to show some of the consequences which Lord Henry himself has faced for the life he has led, and the ideals he has pretended to promote. At first, when his ideas are new and interesting, he is as popular as ever, but as his peers mature, they begin to find his arguments tiresome and hollow, for they lack the 'vulgarity' of brute reason, which reality always has. While Dorian stays magically ageless, Lord Henry becomes 'wrinkled, and worn, and yellow.'

Lord Henry is, like his ideas, ultimately empty of any worth, having no foundation in any absolutes. By the time of Dorian Gray's ball at the end of Gray Matter, Lord Henry is past his prime, alone, and devoid of true joy. He is, like Dorian Gray, attempting to cling to the very things he has already thrown away.

Art should be appreciated, not for art's sake, but in appreciation of the artist. Beauty should be appreciated, not for beauty's sake alone, but because beauty reflects the character of the Creator. Dorian's quest for pleasure ends in misery, and Lord Henry's quest to find fulfillment leaves him distanced and unfulfilled. Lord Henry is indeed a paradox. Despite his proclamations about living for pleasure, Lord Henry doesn’t appear to experience true joy. His wit and charm mask a profound emptiness, proving that his search for meaning through intellectual dominance and hedonism is ultimately futile.

In contrast to Dorian’s more obvious tragedy, Lord Henry’s is quieter, but equally poignant. He spends his life searching for stimulation and validation, only to find dissatisfaction and disillusionment. Many follow the same path today, and will ultimately reach the same destination, blindly seeking love apart from the Author of love, blindly searching for life's purpose without consulting the Designer of it. The warning embedded in The Picture of Dorian Gray is timeless, and though the novel ultimately fails to provide the answer to the complex problems it presents, the answer was already given some 1890 years earlier, in a small province of the Roman Empire called Judaea, placed in a manger, and named Jesus. If Oscar Wilde had known that, the story might have ended far less tragically.

As the real Sir Henry Wotton said 250 years earlier: