Read De Profundis by Oscar Wilde Online

de-profundis

Oscar Wilde wrote "I don't defend my conduct, I explain it, " when he was imprisoned in Reading Gaol in 1895 for his violation of England's stringent laws against homosexuality. Wilde's nototious liaison with the Marquess of Queensberry's son, Lord Alfred Douglas ("Bosie"), had so inflamed the Marquess that he made public attacks on Wilde's character and morals. In return,Oscar Wilde wrote "I don't defend my conduct, I explain it, " when he was imprisoned in Reading Gaol in 1895 for his violation of England's stringent laws against homosexuality. Wilde's nototious liaison with the Marquess of Queensberry's son, Lord Alfred Douglas ("Bosie"), had so inflamed the Marquess that he made public attacks on Wilde's character and morals. In return, Wilde sued for slader, an action which, to Wilde's bitter astonishment, led to a series of scandalous trials and convictions. From his cell in prison, Oscar Wilde wrote "De Profundis," the detailed and unsparing revelation of his love and tragedy....

Title : De Profundis
Author :
Rating :
ISBN : 9780879518707
Format Type : Paperback
Number of Pages : 224 Pages
Status : Available For Download
Last checked : 21 Minutes ago!

De Profundis Reviews

  • Helen Ροζουλί Εωσφόρος Vernus Portitor Arcanus Ταμετούρο Αμούν Arnum
    2019-04-01 08:25

    ”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» γράφτηκε στη φυλακή, σε διάρκεια τριών μηνών το 1897. Είναι μια περίεργη εξομολόγηση. Ένα ξεχωριστό έγγραφο. Μια θρησκευτική μαρτυρία. Μια φιλοσοφική διατριβή. Μια κραυγή απελπισίας και θάρρους. Το οξύμωρο στην επιστολή αυτή αποτελεί το γεγονός πως απευθύνεται αυστηρώς προσωπικά σε κάποιον αποδέκτη ενώ παράλληλα είναι ένα εξαιρετικό λογοτεχνικό έργο για δημόσια προβολή. Στην ουσία είναι μια «εκ βαθέων» ψυχής εξομολόγηση του Όσκαρ Ουάιλντ. Το κύκνειο άσμα ενός τεράστιου πνευματικού δημιουργού με μια αφοριστικά καταραμένη κραυγή πάθους και εσωτερικής ποιότητας του Ουάιλντ προς τον ίδιο του τον εαυτό. Το θέμα του είναι μια τραγωδία πάθους. Μια εκφραστική δυνατότητα ενός απίστευτα ρομαντικού και ερωτευμένου με τη ζωή και τα πάθη ανθρώπου που αισθάνεται γράφοντας το, ότι μιλάει απο τα βάθη της τελικής του ήττας. Διαβάζοντας το αισθάνεσαι το σπαραγμό και την πτώση μιας τόσο ευαίσθητης και ευφυέστατης καλλιτεχνικής φύσης. Συμπονάς θαυμάζοντας παράλληλα την απόλυτη καταστροφή μιας υπεροχής προσωπικότητας, που άλλαξε τη φιλοσοφία και την ποιότητα της τέχνης.Έναν μοναχικό γίγαντα της αγάπης και της μετάνοιας που ακολουθώντας την καρδιά του, τον απεγνωσμένο έρωτα, τον βίαια εθιστικό δρόμο της απολαυστικής ηδονής, κατέληξε να μη γνωρίζει πλέον αν τον ζηλεύουν ή αν τον λυπούνται. Αν τον συμπονούν με θλιβερή κατανόηση ή τον χλευάζουν με ρηχή ευχαρίστηση. Ταπεινώθηκε, θυσιάστηκε, έχασε τα όσα πλουσιοπάροχα του είχε χαρίσει η ζωή απλόχερα -απο κοινωνική θέση, οικογενειακή ευτυχία, οικονομική ευμάρεια, πνευματική καλλιέργεια, εως καλλιτεχνική ανύψωση στο θρόνο της τέχνης. Και παραδόθηκε στην τιμωρία άνευ όρων. Αποδέχτηκε τον δημόσιο εξευτελισμό. Τον χλευασμό των εχθρών του. Την προδοσία των φίλων του. Το χαμό αγαπημένων του προσώπων και προσωπικές απώλειες ανυπολόγιστης αξίας. Συνηθισμένος να μιλάει με αβίαστη ανωτερότητα, φαίνεται να προκαλεί την τραγωδία της μοίρας και τη γεμίζει με μια σύγχρονη φάρσα που πηγάζει απο το κοινωνικό καθεστώς. Όταν γράφει ειναι σαν να μιλάει με νότες, σαν να συνθέτει τη μουσική που ταιριαζει ακριβώς στην ανομία και την κατάντια της ζωής του. Είναι ένας άρχοντας υψηλής πολιτιστικής κληρονομιάς και διαχρονικής αξίας.Ο διασυρμός, η βιαιότητα, τα αισχρά και φθηνά κουτσομπολιά, η στέρηση πνευματικής εμπειρίας και το ρηχό αίσθημα, όσο κι αν αρμόζουν στην κατάσταση που αναγκάστηκε να ζει, δε του ταιριάζουν, είναι ψεύτικα, σαν το χρυσάφι του Μήδα. Προσπαθεί μέσα απο την εξομολόγηση του να εκλογικεύσει τα δεινά του. Για να αντέξει. Βιώνει κατάψυχα και κατάσαρκα τη θλίψη. Πιστεύει πως πίσω απο κάθε πόνο, κάθε θλίψη, υπάρχει μια ψυχή που αξίζει να αγαπιέται, που στέκεται σε συμβολική θέση με το ίδιο το μυστικό της ύπαρξης. Αναγάγει τη μοίρα του σε κοινή και πανανθρώπινη. Δεν υπάρχει κανείς, διατείνεται, που να είναι τόσο άθλιος όσο ο ίδιος, να ζει σε παρόμοια αθλιότητα με τη δική του και να μην «πάσχει» για το μυστικό της ζωής. Πιστεύει στην πνευματική μορφή του αγνωστικισμού και του προσδίδει μια τελετουργική γλώσσα και μια κοσμική αξίωση, όπως αξίζει σε κάθε θρησκεία. Είναι βαθιά ατομιστής, όπως ήταν κατά την άποψη του και ο ίδιος ο Χριστός. Ισχυρίζεται πως η φυλάκιση του τον αποδέσμευσε απο κάθε υλική αναγκαιότητα και ενίσχυσε την αυτοπεποίθηση του. Η απόλυτη ιδέα που κάνει την αυτοκαταστροφή του ενα όνειρο επανεκκίνησης είναι η λογική της τέχνης. Η τέχνη, που κάνει το φανταστικό πραγματική ύπαρξη και ενώνει την ύλη με το πνεύμα. Ιδανικός επαγγελματίας της ανώτατης τέχνης σύμφωνα με τον Ουάιλντ είναι ο Χριστός.Ο Χριστός που έκανε τα πάντα για να καταλάβουν οι άνθρωποι πως το βασίλειο των ουρανών ειναι η ίδια η ψυχή τους. Δίδαξε πως η αγάπη ειναι ομορφότερη απο το μίσος και η μετάνοια ο μοναδικός τρόπος για να αλλάξει κανείς το παρελθόν. Αγάπησε τους αμαρτωλούς περισσότερο απο τους ευσεβείς και τα σκοτάδια τους. Η τελική αποτίμηση του συγγραφέα είναι η αποφασιστικότητα και η θέληση να μεταμορφώσει την ψεύτικη αξία του υλικού σε αισθητικό θησαυρό. Μέσα απο τη διαρκή αξία της τέχνης η χάρη της πίστης είναι μια διαρκής υπενθύμιση και μια προτροπή για να ξεφύγει απο το βάθος της δυστυχίας του μέσω της δημιουργίας. Το De profundis δεν είναι μια δήλωση εξομολόγησης ή μετανοίας. Αποτελεί ίσως μια εύθραυστη πρώτη ύλη που θα μπορούσε να δημιουργήσει τη βάση στήριξης ενάντια στην καταβαράθρωση της ανθρώπινης ζωής. Καλή ανάγνωση. Πολλούς ασπασμούς!!!

  • Luís C.
    2019-04-02 15:50

    Two magnificent texts by Oscar Wilde, particularly poignant. The Ballad of Reading Gaol, the same place where Wilde was imprisoned, tells the true story and drama of a soldier sentenced for having murdered his wife. De Profundis is a long letter addressed to Lord Douglas by Oscar Wilde who reproaches him for having abandoned him to his fate. Oscar Wilde, who had accustomed us to very beautiful reflections on life and his aesthetics, gives us here a sort of last very moving testimony that will be published after his death in 1900.

  • Trevor
    2019-03-25 08:21

    It 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”.

  • Panagiotis
    2019-04-12 10:48

    Δεν το θεωρώ ως μια ερωτική εξομολόγηση ή ως ένα μυθιστόρημα αλλά ως μια βιογραφία των τελευταίων χρόνων πριν την φυλάκισή του. Και ένα απόσπασμα που μου άρεσε. «Ένας άνθρωπος που λαχταράει να’ναι κάτι διαφορετικό από τον εαυτό του-μέλος του κοινοβουλίου ή επιτυχημένος χονδρέμπορος αποικιών ή εξέχων δικηγόρος ή δικαστής ή κάτι εξίσου ανιαρό- πετυχαίνει πάντοτε, χωρίς εξαίρεση να γίνει αυτό που θέλει. Αυτή είναι η τιμωρία του. Αυτοί που θέλουν μάσκα, είναι αναγκασμένοι να την φοράνε.»

  • Paquita Maria Sanchez
    2019-04-06 07:43

    I am giving this a lower rating than it technically deserves, due to some of my personal beliefs that are important enough to me that I am unwilling to ignore them in a review where they are so entirely relevant to the book at hand. As a piece of writing, it is several synonyms for luscious and tragically chest-stabby. However, underneath the primary and quite applicable to post-3-decades-on-Earth-me themes of looking back on many a wasted year and regretting a lot of the selfish and short-sighted decisions one makes in a lifetime, there is Wilde's conclusions that faith in Jesus and rolling about in debilitating regret are the only ways out of the pickle that is taking stock of your life. I've been hearing that bull for as long as I can remember and from a plethora of sources such as random Southerners, television shows, extended relatives, teachers, etc, and the fact that even Oscar Wilde eventually drew such conclusions makes me feel more than a little bit doomed. So, Wilde's 5-star writing + a 0-grade on the final rounded up because the other students in class did an even worse job = 3 stars. I hope my bias is clear, and that anyone reading this review knows that if you don't find it niggling to be preached at, you would probably really enjoy this short, beautiful work.Oh, one last thought: if you think this review is freakim' emo, you should read the book. It makes my grumble-mumbles look like glittery rainbow unicorns.

  • Χριστίνα
    2019-04-13 13:30

    Ένα σπαρακτικό βιβλίο από έναν πολύ αγαπημένο συγγραφέα. Ο Wilde εδώ ξεγυμνώνει την ψυχή του και μας δείχνει πέρα του πόσο ταλαντούχος συγγραφέας είναι, το πόσο ευαίσθητος και πολύπλευρος άνθρωπος είναι. Ακόμα και αν δε συμφωνεί κάποιος με τις απόψεις του ή τον τρόπο ζωής του, δεν μπορεί παρά να αφεθεί στο μαγικό γράψιμό του και στον δαιδαλώδη κόσμο του, όχι μόνο σε αυτό το βιβλίο του αλλά σε όλα ανεξαιρέτως τα έργα του. Απλά απολαυστικός!

  • Vivian
    2019-03-27 12:50

    When faced with the abyss before you, is there only emptiness or is there a new beginning?This is an intensely personal examination of Wilde's journey during incarceration. It follows the Stages of Grief and intertwines the religious with art. It has some incredible observations that made me examine my own thoughts and assumptions.But it is a very unimaginative nature that only cares for people on their pedestals. A pedestal may be a very unreal thing. A pillory is a terrific reality. They should have known also how to interpret sorrow better. I have said that behind sorrow there is always sorrow. It were wiser still to say that behind sorrow there is always a soul. And to mock at a soul in pain is a dreadful thing. In the strangely simple economy of the world people only get what they give, and to those who have not enough imagination to penetrate the mere outward of things, and feel pity, what pity can be given save that of scorn?

  • FrancoSantos
    2019-03-27 11:23

    ¿Algunas vez les pasó de leer el inicio de un libro para solo echarle un vistazo y terminaron leyendo mucho más de lo que planeaban?Bueno, a mí me acaba de pasar: no pude parar de leer hasta terminarlo. Puedo ser perfectamente feliz solo. Con libertad, libros, flores y la luna, ¿quién no puede ser feliz?Me gustó muchísimo esta carta (megacarta) de Oscar Wilde a su amante. Este trabajo me permitió conocer más a fondo a uno de mis autores favoritos; a comprenderlo y admirar su grandeza y complejidad. Me enteré de muchas cosas de su vida que no me las hubiera imaginado. Wilde expresó con transparencia sus pensamientos y su sentir. Tiene partes que me llegaron al alma. Wilde escarba en la sociedad y en las injusticias de la época; asimismo escarba en sus decepciones y tristezas. Me permitió ver su espíritu desbordado por las lágrimas y su corazón herido. Me enseñó parte de su jardín en donde mantiene a sus arboles más verdes, y también me mostró en donde yacen sus hierbas más pobres.

  • Anastasia
    2019-03-27 08:35

    (4,5*)Σύντομες περίοδοι, κοφτός λόγος, παράθεση άμεσων ερωτημάτων...όλα συντελούν στην αποκάλυψη της ψυχικής διάθεσης του Oscar Wide κατά τη συγγραφή του γράμματος. Άλλοτε σκεπτικός, άλλοτε θλιμμένος, πικραμένος, στοχαστικός και ειρωνικός. Κείμενο με φιλοσοφικές, κοινωνικές και θρησκευτικές προεκτάσεις, προσφέρεται για περισσότερες από μία αναγνώσεις σε διαφορετικές φάσεις της ζωής μας."Αυτό είναι ο προαιώνιο παραλογισμός της ανθρώπινης ζωής, να είσαι απόλυτα ελεύθερος και ταυτόχρονα νομοτελειακά υποταγμένος.""Ο πόνος είναι μια απέραντη στιγμή και δε μπορούμε να τον χωρίσουμε σε διαστήματα. Μπορούμε μονάχα να συλλάβουμε τις αποχρώσεις και επαναλήψεις του."ΥΓ: Δεν έμεινα καθόλου ικανοποιημένη από τη συγκεκριμένη έκδοση (Αργοναύτης). Πολλά συντακτικά-ορθογραφικά λάθη και λάθος σημεία στίξης δυσχεραίνουν σε αρκετά σημεία τη ροή της ανάγνωσης. Ελπίζω πώς η μετάφραση ήταν αρκετά καλή ώστε να μην αλλοιωθεί το περιεχόμενο και το νόημα του κειμένου. Σίγουρα όταν επιστρέψω για μία ακόμη ανάγνωση θα προτιμήσω άλλη έκδοση.

  • Alice Poon
    2019-03-30 15:28

    A piece of beautiful, honest, philosophical writing that flows from a chastened soul.Passages that tug at my heartstrings:"To regret one's own experiences is to arrest one's own development. To deny one's own experiences is to put a lie into the lips of one's own life. It is no less than a denial of the soul.""Truth in art is the unity of a thing with itself: the outward rendered expressive of the inward: the soul made incarnate: the body instinct with spirit.""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.""Time and space, succession and extension, are merely accidental conditions of thought, the imagination can transcend them and move in a free sphere of ideal existences. Things also are in their essence of what we choose to make them; a thing is according to the mode in which we look at it."

  • Teresa Proença
    2019-04-06 10:34

    "(...)Uns amam pouco tempo, outros demais, Uns vendem, outros compram; Alguns praticam a ação com muitas lágrimas E outros sem um suspiro, sequer: Pois todo o homem mata o objeto do seu amor E, no entanto, nem todo homem é condenado à morte.Oscar Wilde (Balada do Cárcere de Reading)De Profundis é uma longa carta, dirigida a Alfred Douglas, que Wilde escreveu na prisão de Reading, onde, durante dois anos, cumpriu pena de trabalhos forçados pela acusação de práticas homossexuais. É um relato pungente do sofrimento de um homem que perdeu tudo pelo "amor que não ousa dizer seu nome": o património, a família, os amigos, a saúde, a reputação, o amor..."(...)Jovem encantador,Dize-me: por que, triste e suspirante, errasNestes reinos aprazíveis? Peço-te, dize-me:Qual o teu verdadeiro nome? “Meu nome é Amor.”Então, o primeiro virou-se para mim,E gritou-me: “Ele mente, porque o nome dele é Vergonha.Eu é quem sou o Amor, e costumava estar aquiSozinho, neste belo jardim, até que ele chegouComo um intruso durante a noite. Sou eu o verdadeiro Amor, que anima de uma chama mútua os corações dos rapazes e das raparigas.Então, suspirando, o outro disse: “Segue tua fantasia,Porque eu, eu sou o Amor que não ousa dizer seu nome”.Alfred Douglas (Os Dois Amores)

  • Evripidis Gousiaris
    2019-03-20 15:35

    Υπέροχος! Η γλώσσα και οι σκέψεις του με μάγεψαν. Ανυπομονώ να διαβάσω Το Πορτραίτο του Ντόριαν Γκρέυ για το οποίο ακούω τόσα και τόσα :)

  • Mark
    2019-04-17 14:37

    In the letter Wilde wrote to his friend Robert Ross enclosing this extended essay he finishes with a beautiful image' On the other side of the prison wall there are some poor black soot-besmirched trees which are just breaking out into buds of an almost shrill gren. I know quite well what they are going through. They are finding expression '.These lovely few sentences capture quite marvelously the thrust of this book. It is an account of Wilde's re-birth from in amidst the degradation and cruel shaming brought about by his arrest and imprisonment. From out of the depths of his sorrow and bitterness you see the pushing upwards of a soul seeking to be at rights with himself and the world. This is not an essay filled with witticisms or sharp aphorisms but it is, as he might have said at another time, bejewelled with turns of phrase and ideas which really move. His humility and genuine acknowledgement of his own responsibilities does not lessen the sense of heartbreak that you read betwen the lines.' I grew careless of the lives of others. I tok pleasure where it pleased me and passed on. I forgot that every little action of the common day makes or unmakes character.....i was no longer the captain of my soul, and did not know it. '.This book is fascinating because you read Oscar Wilde's journey as he moves to a fuller and freer wisdom and the centrality of his sense of being in posession of his soul, his real self. It reminded me of that quotation from Edith Wharton in ' The touchstone' where she writes something like ' we live in our souls as if an unmapped region a small area of which we have cleared for our own habitation '. Wilde is struggling and succeeding to take posession of more and more of his mysterious hinterland. A journey with an amazingly open and honest guide.At one point he writes of his plans for the next 18 months after his release, sadly this was all he was to have before his death but he states that ' if i may not write beautiful books, I may at least read beautiful books; and what joy can be greater ' Oscar, I couldn't have said it better myself

  • Astraea
    2019-04-19 14:31

    واقعا نمیدونم چی بگم در مورد سانسور کتاب در ایران!نمیدونم..شایدم سانسور نبود و اصل کتاب همین بودهمن این کتاب رو سال 88 خوندم...اصلا هم توی باغ نبودم...مدام میگفتم آخه یعنی چی!!!اسکار وایلد چه دوستی با آلفرد داگلاس داشته!!!؟؟؟؟

  • K.D. Absolutely
    2019-04-17 12:48

    How can a love be so true be so wrong? No, erase that. Who am I to say that it is wrong?Oscar Wilde (1854–1900), Irish writer, poet, aesthete and Lord Alfred Douglas (1870-1945), British author, poet, translator are in-love with each other and they are both homosexuals. Also, Wilde is married to Constance Lloyd (1859-1898) and they have two children: Cyril and Vyvyn.Douglas is single at 21 and Wilde, 37, married and already a father when they start their affair. After a year, Wilde is incarcerated due to "gross indecency", or homosexual acts. The year is 1895 and London is not yet open to homosexuals. It was the Douglas father, John Douglas, 9th Marquess of Queensberry who gathered all the evidences against the then famous novelist and playwright Wilde. The motive according to Wilde: the father and son hate each other. The mother is afraid of both. In fact, the mother has been sending Wilde letters with a P.S. On no account let Alfred know that I have written to you.De Profundis ("from the depths") is a long letter of lamentation of Wilde addressed to his lover Douglas, written during his imprisonment that lasted for 2-1/2 years. It started with bitterness (with Wilde enumerating the money spent on Douglas' whims and caprices) before moving to more profound and thought-provoking references to the Holy Bible, Shakespeare, The Divine Comedy, Plato, etc. It is worded beautifully the I had to stop several times and process and savor his words. Just to give you an example:Suffering is a long moment. We cannot divide it by seasons. We can only record its moods, and chronicle their return. With us time itself does not progress. It revolves. It seems to circle round one centre of pain. The paralyzing immobility of life, every circumstance of which is regulated after an unchangeable pattern, so that we eat and drink and walk and lie down and pray, or kneel at least for prayer, according to the inflexible laws of an iron formula: this immobile quality, that makes each dreadful day in the minutest detail like its brother, seems to communicate itself to those external forces the very essence of whose existence is ceaseless change.The big question I have is: did the young Douglas also love the much older Wilde? Or did he just use Wilde for money? The book did not answer this. There are evidences or references for both sides. I think it would depend on what the reader wants to believe. I would not want to give my opinion because if I do that, I will either be condemning or encouraging their kind of love. Who am I to do that?The narrative is powerful, poignant and strong. If this is not anchored on love, I doubt if it will the impact that still resonates to its readers up to now. I Googled "De Profundis" and there found a Facebook account where seemingly gay men put their comments on this book. The prevailing sentiment, it seems, is that they find Wilde's musings liberating and inspiring.Powerful narrative. Brilliant writer.

  • georgia ☽
    2019-04-18 07:40

    i'm not okay."Society, as we have constituted it, will have no place for me, has none to offer; but Nature, whose sweet rains fall on unjust and just alike, will have clefts in the rocks where I may hide, and secret valleys in whose silence I may weep undisturbed. She will hang the night with stars so that I may walk abroad in the darkness without stumbling, and send the wind over my footprints so that none may track me to my hurt: she will cleanse me in great waters, and with bitter herbs make me whole."edit: after reading the complete version of this, i've increased the rating from four to five stars. oscar wilde's pain and love and bitterness is so powerful that raw emotion bleeds from the pages. my heart aches for him.

  • Reckoner
    2019-03-19 11:20

    Πικραμενος, σαρκαστικος, πονεμενος ο Γουαιλντ φιλοσοφει, στοχαζεται, αναθεωρει για οτι αφορα την ζωη , τη Τεχνη και απευθυνει ενα δριμυ ΄΄κατηγορω'' εναντια στην πουριτανικη ηθικη της Βικτωριανης Αγγλιας, στον ιδιο τον ερωμενο του με τον αμεσο,ποιητικο και ιδιοφυη του λογο ανοιγει πληγες που δεν εχουν σκοπο να επουλωθουν. Κατω απο το μικροσκοπιο βαζει και τον ιδιο τον εαυτο του προσπαθωντας να διαχειριστει, τις αδυναμιες, τις αγωνιες του, το μισος και εχοντας ως σκοπο την προσωπικη τελειωση, την ηρεμια και την γαληνη. Περναει ''δια πυρος και σιδηρου ξεροντας οτι ''το μονο πραγματικο ελαττωμα ειναι η επιπολαιοτητα και πως οτι μαθαινει κανεις ειναι για καλο''. Εκεινος δνε εχει σκοπο να το κανει ευκολο, συνειδητοποιει οτι πρεπει να γευτει και την Θλιψη για να προχωρησει παρα περα. Συγκλονιστικος !!!

  • Piyangie
    2019-03-27 11:30

    De Profundis or "from the depths" is a long letter written by Oscar Wild to Lord Alfred Douglas while he was imprisoned in Reading Goal. The letter is Wild's attempt to come to terms with his past, present dire circumstances and the future that he will have to face once released. As the name states, the letter is account from the depth - from his soul with all honesty. Although he holds that he is unjustly convicted, he nevertheless admits that he has committed grave errors in the past. He is repentant on the superficial life he has had led. And he seeks forgiveness and bestow forgiveness of those who he believed wronged him. The letter is also a way of releasing his anger, bitterness and despair while he struggled to find a meaning and purpose in continuing his life. He himself admits that he wanted to end it in utter despair. But yet he struggles, despite his losses (he was made bankrupt and he was barred from any contacts with his sons), to come to terms with the nature of life which he say is "full of sorrow" which can be endured only though "love".It was truly sad to read the emotional and mental agonies that such a fine artist had to go through. And when he said that he had brought disgrace to the name that his loving parents had bestowed on him, my heart broke. It is a huge burden one carries with oneself. The letter is also full of his philosophical views and beautiful writing. Letter or not, it is by Oscar Wild and one should not expect less.

  • Stina
    2019-03-21 09:21

    I won't write a solid review for this because I just poured out my energy in a review with terrible grammar and no good points. Just a forewarning, y'all.When I read this, all I could really do was think about Oscar Wilde's conditions when writing this. He wrote it in prison. I can't imagine he had it very nice there. Yet, he manages to write a perfectly Oscar Wilde-y letter, with beautiful prose and good insights. I don't really want to talk about it anymore... just read it. If you like Oscar Wilde. I personally do, I really love him, so I enjoyed this. You probably won't like this if you don't like Oscar Wilde.

  • Sonia
    2019-04-14 09:37

    EspañolEmpecé a leer este libro con la finalidad de conocer un poco más a uno de mis autores favoritos, pero lo terminé de leer conociendo un poco más a la humanidad. Una humanidad a veces injusta, a veces conducida por el odio y la vanidad. Otras tantas por los prejuicios, el interés, el desenfreno y la intolerancia, pero también, y contra todo pronóstico, cómo puede uno elegir ser movido por el amor sin necesidad de ser débil ante quien lo recibe o ante el hecho de no recibirlo a cambio. Lo importante aquí es, siempre albergar amor en nosotros, en cualquier circunstancia, pues no existe en el mundo cárcel cuya entrada no pueda forzar el amor."Quien verdaderamente abriga en sí el amor, encuentra amor para consigo"Y esto se refleja con el pasar de las páginas, cuando se comprende que dar siempre estará bien, siempre que no estemos corrompiéndonos nosotros mismos o echando perlas a los cerdos. Wilde se rompió intentando mantener unido algo que nunca existió, y lo entendió de una manera dolorosa.Al principio no podía dejar de pensar que Alfred, a quien está dirigida la carta, estaba cegado por el odio mientras que Wilde, por su parte, parecía cegado por un amor desigual e impuro por no ser correspondido y ser dado desmesuradamente. Wilde amó por los dos, pero dejó que todo lo demás se perdiera. Esto no era amor, percibí quizá que buscaba ser correspondido, aceptado, y el progreso de su propia conciencia a lo largo de toda la carta me hizo ver lo verdaderamente profundo de su corazón, aunque inmaduro; uno que entendió que lamentarse de su desgracia no haría más que envenenarlo, y que la mejor alternativa era, en cambio, aceptar que los procesos y el dolor son necesarios para mirar la historia desde un distinto punto de vista con mayor claridad e intensidad, aunque aprendiendo siempre de ellos (dudo que no lo haya hecho, dadas todas las cosas que perdió por volcar su vida en una sola persona, que no lo amaba ni la mitad de quienes terminaron dañados).Pronto las páginas dejaron de contener lamentos y quejas, y pasaron a ser hermosas reflexiones sobre firmes convicciones y mucha introspección. Estoy segura de que mientras escribía esta carta, él mismo descubrió cosas de sí que habían permanecido enterradas durante mucho tiempo, y aunque en algún momento me causó un tanto de tristeza ver a un gran artista venido a menos por alguien que solo estuvo para destruirlo, aceptó sin terquedad lo que había tenido que sufrir ya sea justa o injustamente, porque él mismo había tomado la decisión que lo había llevado hasta ese lugar. Ojalá su vida artística no se hubiese visto interrumpida de esta forma, casi puedo sentir su frustración al no poder hacer lo que amaba por la presencia de alguien a quien creía amar más.ENGLISHI started to read this book in order to know a little more about one of my favorite authors, but I finished reading it knowing a little more about humanity. A humanity sometimes unfair, sometimes driven by hatred and vanity. Many times driven by prejudice, interest, self-indulgence and intolerance, but also, and against all odds, how can one choose to be moved by love without needing to be weak to those who receive it or to the the fact of not receiving it in return. The important thing here is always to have love in us, in any circumstance, for there is no prison in the world whose entrance can not force love.And this is a reflection of the passage of the pages, when it is understood that it is always right, as long as we are not corrupting ourselves by throwing pearls at the pigs. Wilde broke down trying to hold together something that never existed, and he understood that in a painful way.At first I couldn't help but think that Alfred, to whom the letter was addressed, was blinded by hatred, while Wilde, on the other hand, seemed blinded by an unequal and unbridled love. Wilde loved for both of them, but he let everything else go. This was not love, I perceived perhaps that he sought to be reciprocated, accepted, and the progress of his own consciousness throughout the whole letter made me see the true depth of his heart, though immature; one that understood that to lament its misfortune would only poison itself, and that the best alternative was, instead, to accept that processes and pain are necessary to look at life from a different point of view with greater clarity (I am sure he did, given all the things that he lost by overturning his life in one person, who did not love him half as much as those who were damaged).Soon the pages ceased to contain lamentations and complaints, and became beautiful reflections on firm convictions and much introspection. I am sure that while he wrote this letter, he himself discovered things that had been buried for a long time, and although at some point it made me a bit sad to see a great artist come to less for someone who was only there to destroy him, I saw that he accepted without stubbornness what he had had to suffer either justly or unjustly, because he himself had made the decision that had brought him to that place. I wish her artistic life had not been interrupted this way, I can almost feel his frustration at not being able to do what he loved because of the presence of someone whom he thought he loved even more.

  • Fernando
    2019-04-15 09:36

    Con una honestidad brutalmente a flor de piel, Oscar Wilde escribe esta carta a su amante Alfred "Bosie" Douglas con la convicción de haber sido extremadamente castigado por la sociedad. Una auténtica Nota desde el Subsuelo, donde el dolor y el sufrimiento de uno de los escritores más sensibles de la literatura universal nos da la sensación de estar leyendo los sentimientos de un corazón "en carne viva".

  • Christopher
    2019-04-10 09:21

    Beautiful, fascinating, poetic, and heartbreaking, Wilde becomes the “spectator of his own tragedy” in De Profundis and attempts a sort of mystical Confiteor to make sense of the suffering of his soul.When first I was put into prison some people advised me to try and forget who I was. It was ruinous advice. It is only by realizing what I am that I have found comfort of any kind. Now I am advised by others to try on my release to forget that I have ever been in a prison at all. I know that would be equally fatal. It would mean that I would be always haunted by an intolerable sense of disgrace, and that those things that are meant as much for me as for anyone else -- the beauty of the sun and moon, the pageant of the seasons, the music of daybreak and the silence of great nights, the rain falling through the leaves, or the dew creeping over the grass and making it silver -- would all be tainted for me, and lose their healing power and their power of communicating joy. To reject one's own experiences is to arrest one's own development. To deny one's own experiences is to put a lie into the lips of one's own life. It is no less than a denial of the Soul."There are so many great reviews of this here on GR that I'll just add an aspect that I think hasn't been touched upon. Wilde’s meditations on his pre-prison life were colored by the reading he undertook while in prison: the Bible, Dante, Saint Augustine, and Cardinal Newman among others. However, it was still his situational antinomianism upon which he filtered his philosophy even as he found in himself parallels with the prodigal son:Of course the sinner must repent. But why? Simply because otherwise he would be unable to realize what he had done. The moment of repentance is the moment of initiation. More than that. It is the means by which one alters one's past. The Greeks thought that impossible. They often say in their gnomic aphorisms "Even the Gods cannot alter the past." Christ showed that the commonest sinner could do it. That it was the one thing he could do. Christ, had he been asked, would have said — I feel quite certain about it — that the moment the prodigal son fell on his knees and wept he really made his having wasted his substance with harlots, and then kept swine and hungered for the husks they ate, beautiful and holy incidents in his life. It is difficult for most people to grasp the idea. I dare say one has to go to prison to understand it. If so, it may be worthwhile going to prison.Wilde puts the past transgressions (despite what you/I/we see today as transgressions) of the prodigal son into the category of “beautiful and holy things” rather than the effect that later resulted from them, thus making the evil things good rather than accepting that God may bring good from evil. He’s justified his own actions as necessary for the remaking of the man he thought he was become.It is tempting to see him as a new man born from his catastrophe but the short, mostly depressed and alcohol-soaked life of poverty he lived afterward was not exemplary of someone on the road to wisdom or salvation. Instead, it seems he'd become even more mired in "the depths" from which he thought he was rising. However, that detracts nothing from him being one of the masters of the English language.

  • Jackie
    2019-04-09 09:48

    Part IWow. Well, first off, this was excellent Valentine's Day reading, and when I say that I'm only about 64% sarcastic. If De Profundis shows anything it shows that love is complicated and however much I wanted to shake Oscar Wilde and yell "You're right to be upset! He's horrible! He's not worth it!" I know he wouldn't listen to me.On the other hand, I can't imagine being on the receiving end of this letter and keeping my cool, even if I just had a teaspoonful of heart.Part IIThis is what makes me think Oscar Wilde would have made an excellent emo kid:"After a time that evil mood passed away and I made up my mind to live, but to wear gloom as a King wears purple: never to smile again: to turn whatever house I entered into a house of mourning: to make my friends walk slowly in sadness with me: to teach the that melancholy is the true secret of life: to maim them with an alien sorrow: to mar them with my own pain."Part IIIAnd then there's this:"But I met you either too late or too soon, I don't know which."Yeesh. We've all been there.

  • Maria Espadinha
    2019-04-04 08:27

    1º Acto - Uma Parteira Chamada Dor:- "Suffering is really a revelation. One discerns things one's never discerned before"2º Acto - A Roda dos Opostos:- "I turned the good things of my life to evil and the evil things of my life to good"3º Acto - A Experiência Constrói o Ser:- "To regret one's own experience is to arrest one's own development"Cai o Pano:No fim de tudo o que há a reter, é que quem trilha o Caminho do Puro Prazer, está na verdade a trilhar o Caminho da Dor sem o saber.Quer nos agrade quer não , Dor e Prazer nasceram casados e assim permanecerão!...

  • Lynne King
    2019-03-21 08:26

    This is a fabulous book. I loved it when I read it twenty or so years ago but I appreciate it more now for its literary worth. That's the difference.Nice to see that it's still being read by my friends here.

  • julieta
    2019-03-23 11:42

    This book is just so painful. It gets difficult a times, but then at others Wilde makes something much bigger of his woes. He flies in philosophy, metaphysic ideas. Love, hate, hurt, sorrow, Christ, friendship, family, he speaks of so many things. Yet you are left with a very sad feeling. If this is what may happen to someone so great, what is left for mere mortals like us? Is love to be so cruel?

  • Andrew Calderon
    2019-04-01 09:23

    This 'book'-in reality, it is a letter written to Lord Alfred Douglas-is brimming with beautiful passages, intelligent ideas, and honest emotion. I haven't read something this transfixing and powerful in quite some time. It truly reveals Wilde's mastery of language, and his profound understanding on the human psyche. I found myself wondering if he knew that this would be read in the future by people other than Lord Alfred Douglas. It wouldn't change my experience of the book, but it was just so beautiful and contemplative that I wonder if it was written for two audiences: Lord A. Douglas and us. Anyway, he speaks of love, sorrow, Christ, 'Art', and the power of imagination to enumerate a few topics. I have found myself referring back to this book while writing my own prose. The reason being that he handles complex emotional themes in an almost philosophical way, patiently and meticulously explaining himself, making sure he is perfectly understood. I assume the nature of the letter and the conditions surrounding it (being captive in prison) influenced his pace and thoroughness, and one can only hope to pour that much of oneself into one's writing. I highly recommend this book. Especially for anyone who has experimented with deep sorrow and contempt for another human. It masterfully straddles the lines of culpability and forgiveness: borders found in the land of sorrow, at the edge of one's soul where the feeling of infinity finds it home and happiness rests on the horizon.

  • Grissel
    2019-03-29 13:44

    “Luego de una prolongada e infructuosa espera, he tomado la decisión de escribirte, y ello tanto en tu interés como en el mío, pues me subleva el pensar que he estado en la cárcel dos interminables años sin que haya recibido de ti una sola línea, una noticia cualquiera, que no he sabido nada de ti, aparte de aquello que tenía que serme doloroso.”Es extraño puntuar una lectura como esta, pero interesante al mismo tiempo. Entrar en la mente de alguien y conocer sus pensamientos y su sentir, sobre todo en una situación como en la que se encontraba Wilde al escribir esta larga carta a Lord Alfred Douglas (Bosie) dos meses antes de finalizar su condena. Y ver como en pocos años perdió todo: reputación, dinero, amistades, familia y hasta su nombre.Al principio parece un listado de gastos, Wilde tiene una memoria y recuerda cantidades, fechas, todo. En el transcurso podemos conocer más al autor, si vida en los años antes de su estancia en prisión, sus reflexiones y los cambios que se dieron durante su estancia en la prisión de Reading. Pero sobre todo podemos ver que es una carta donde se ve su amor por Bosie, esperando una respuesta.“Tu absoluta confianza en que tendría que perdonarte siempre era la cualidad que en todo momento me había agradado en ti, quizá la mejor cualidad que te reconocía.”“Por amor a ti, ¡las cosas que no habré hecho por amor a ti.!”

  • Nardooneh
    2019-04-10 10:48

    کتاب شامل دست نوشته های نویسنده است که در دوران حبسش خطاب به لرد آلفرد داگلاس نوشته شده است. او پس از دوره ای از شهرت و ثروت بسیار و "غیرمحتمل" ورشکسته و بی آبرو می شود و پس از چندین جلسه دادگاه (که به شدت کنجکاو شدم کتاب شرح دادگاه شو را بخونم!) به بیگاری و زندان محکوم می شود و به عنوان مجازات در ملا عام مورد تمسخر قرار میگیرد. طی این دوران، اجازه خواندن هر کتابی، فرستادن هر نامه ای و حتی برای مدتی، داشتن رابطه کلامی با زندانی های دیگر برایش ممنوع بود. مثل هر نوشته دیگری که از یک نابغه و در انتهای زندگی اش منتشر می شود پر از گفته هایی است که ارزش بارها خواندن را دارد. از خشم او نسبت به دوستش و پدر او، که آنها را مسئول ورشکستگی اش میداند، تا بخشیدن آنها و شرح تحولات روحی ای که آرزو داشت زودتر از این ها برایش اتفاق می افتادند. نویسنده ای که میان شلوغی های دوروبرش گم شد و فرصت نکرد به جهانیان نشان دهد چه نابغه ای بوده است.

  • Alison
    2019-03-28 08:36

    I never would have expected a treatise on the meaning of suffering and sorrow, the path to the soul, and a meditation upon Christ as the first true artist/poet from a man imprisoned for homosexuality. It was a pleasure to read this "letter" that emerged out of Oscar Wilde's two year imprisonment for "illicit behavior". How one of his life of leisure, wealth, and decadence could find the path to his soul and the beauty in suffering and the value of nature while imprisoned in a jail cell for two years is a truly beautiful testament to the potential for redemption in humankind. I loved it.