How far I am away from the true temper of soul, this letter in its changing, uncertain moods, its scorn and bitterness, its aspirations and failure to realise those aspirations, shows you quite clearly.
But do not forget in what a terrible school I am sitting at my task.
And incomplete, as imperfect, as I am, yet from me you may have still much to gain.
You came to me to learn the pleasure of life and the pleasure of art. Perhaps I am chosen to teach you something much more wonderful - the meaning of sorrow and its beauty.
- Oscar Wilde
Ah what an admirably gifted man Oscar was. It sounds like it was something he wrote to Bosie.
Astonishingly beautiful words in their candour, observation and wisdom.
It's the final part of 'De Profundis', and was indeed written to Lord Alfred Douglas. Have you read the whole thing? You might not find the rest of it particularly wonderful. Most of it is accusation.
It's the final part of 'De Profundis', and was indeed written to Lord Alfred Douglas. Have you read the whole thing? You might not find the rest of it particularly wonderful. Most of it is accusation.
Ah yes...that would fit. Oscar got bitter towards the end of his life. Indeed, it would be hard to remain optimistic with the way his life unfolded.