英国才子王尔德**长篇小说
  　　十九世纪唯美主义代表作
  　　买中文版送英文版
  　　奥斯卡·王尔德是19世纪唯美主义运动的代表人物，他所作《道林·格雷的画像》便是当时的代表作，这也是王尔德的**一部长篇小说。作品中美丽的词藻和绚然烂的意象附丽于变态人物和荒诞的情节，因此长期遭到误解，其实书中另有真意。
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   天生漂亮异常的主人公道林·格雷，因见了画家霍华德给他画的和真人一样大的肖像，发现了自己惊人的美，又听信了亨利·华顿勋爵的吹嘘，开始为自己韶华易逝，美貌难久感到痛苦，表示希望那幅肖像能代替自己承担岁月和心灵的负担，而让他自己永远保持青春貌美。他的这个想入非非的愿望后来却莫名其妙地实现了。一天晚上他粗暴地对待了他所爱的女演员西比尔·苇恩，回到家里，发现那肖像上出现了残忍的表情。原来那肖像已开始随着道林·格雷心灵的变化而变化了。b
  
  作者简介
  　　奥斯卡·王尔德（Oscar Wilde，1854—1900）19世纪英国最伟大的艺术家之一，以其剧作、诗歌、童话和小说闻名于世。王尔德作为唯美主义代表人物，在世界文学史上享有特殊地位，是19世纪80年代美学运动的主力和90年代颓废派运动的先驱。他的著作有《快乐王子》《莎乐美》《认真的重要》《理想丈夫》《雷丁监狱之歌》等等，影响深远。
  目录
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  第 一 章
  第 二 章
  第 三 章
  第 四 章
  第 五 章
  第 六 章
  第 七 章
  第 八 章
  第 九 章
  第 十 章
  第十一章
  第十二章
  第十三章
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  　　巴兹尔·霍尔沃德是我的自画像，亨利勋爵是世人对我的印象，而道林才是我希望成为的人，也许只是年龄不同。
  　　——奥斯卡·王尔德
  在线试读部分章节
   那是个醉人的夜晚，非常暖和，他把外套搭在手臂上，脖子上连丝绸围巾都没戴。他抽着烟，信步往家走，身边走过两个穿着晚礼服的青年。他听见其中一个对另一个耳语道：“那就是道林格雷。”他想起以前被人指指点点、被盯着看或是被谈论时自己曾多么开心，现在却厌倦了听到自己的名字。他最近常去的那个小村庄一半的魅力就在于没人知道他是谁。他引诱了一个姑娘，让她爱上自己，他常告诉她自己很穷，她也信以为真。有一次，他告诉她自己很坏，她哈哈大笑，回答说坏人总是又老又丑的。她笑得多么动听！——就像是画眉在歌唱。她穿着棉布衣服，戴着大帽子，多么美丽！她什么都不知道，却拥有他失去的一切。
   他回到家，发现仆人正等着他便打发他去睡觉，自己躺在图书室的沙发上，开始思索亨利勋爵跟他说的一些话。
  
   难道人真的永远也不能改变吗？他狂野地渴望着自己纯洁无瑕的童年—— 亨利勋爵曾经称之为白玫瑰般的童年。他知道他已经玷污了自己，心思里满是腐败，想象中全是恐怖；他知道自己对旁人是种邪恶的影响，还从中获得一种残忍的快感；他知道在与他交往过的人当中，因他蒙受耻辱的都是最善良、最有前途的人。可这就无法挽回了吗？他没希望了吗？
  
   It was a lovely night, so warm that he threw his coat over his arm and did not even put his silk scarf round his throat. As he strolled home, smoking his cigarette, two young men in evening dress passed him. He heard one of them whisper to the other, “That is Dorian Gray.” He remembered how pleased he used to be when he was pointed out, or stared at, or talked about. He was tired of hearing his own name now. Half the charm of the little village where he had been so often lately was that no one knew who he was. He had often told the girl whom he had lured to love him that he was poor, and she had believed him. He had told her once that he was wicked, and she had laughed at him and answered that wicked people were always very old and very ugly. What a laugh she had!——just like a thrush singing. And how pretty she had been in her cotton dresses and her large hats! She knew nothing, but she had everything that he had lost.
   When he reached home, he found his servant waiting up for him. He sent him to bed, and threw himself down on the sofa in the library, and began to think over some of the things that Lord Henry had said to him.
   Was it really true that one could never change? He felt a wild longing for the unstained purity of his boyhood——his rose-white boyhood, as Lord Henry had once called it. He knew that he had tarnished himself, filled his mind with corruption and given horror to his fancy; that he had been an evil influence to others, and had experienced a terrible joy in being so; and that of the lives that had crossed his own, it had been the fairest and the most full of promise that he had brought to shame. But was it all irretrievable? Was there no hope for him?