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[In 1912, Arthur L. Humphreys, 187
Piccadilly, London W., published an edition of Wilde’s The Soul of Man
under Socialism. The title page gives this full version, not
The Soul of Man as other editions
had it. Also on the title page is the
phrase ‘With a Preface by Robert Ross’, and this preface we republish
here. It carries the title ‘A
Superfluous Note of Explanation’, and
begins on page v. We will insert the
page changes followed by \\ in square brackets. Punctuation is as in the
original; the only change has been not to use indented paragraphs. – Editor,
THE OSCHOLARS] |
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Oscar Wilde’s
writings require, I have often observed elsewhere, no introductions. Even ‘De Profundis’
and ‘The Ballad
of Reading Gaol’, the two more personal works from
his pen, explain themselves, and thereby defeat the ingenuity of editors or
commentators. Herein lies, at least
one cause of the author’s extraordinary popularity in countries separated
from England by wider gulfs than those of geography and language. The veritable child of his age, Wilde is
one of the least provincial writers of the nineteenth century. No special
knowledge of that age is necessary for appreciating either his style or his
humour. He shares the prerogative of
all writers who survive the obloquy or adulation of their own period. The [vi\\] universality of his art,
literature, and life, assures for him, I believe, the attention of posterity,
provided that posterity will have any curiosity concerning the literary
expression of the last century. I
remember being told by a sympathetic man of letters, shortly after Wilde died
in 1900, that none of his books would ever be read in the future, and that
none of his plays would ever be performed again. This opinion was confirmed by a prominent
public official, whose knowledge of human nature and the value of literary
property ought to have been extensive.
At that time only one or two of Wilde’s published dramas were to be
found in London bookshops; some of the other works being surreptitiously sold
in pirated editions. There was,
however, one exception. The copyright
of ‘The Soul of Man’ belonged to Mr. Arthur Humphreys, from whom copies could
always be obtained. Not unpardonably I
regarded this circumstance as a symbol of the revived [vii\\] interest in the
other works, so soon to falsify the prophecies I have quoted. In 1901, when Salome was first produced in
Berlin, a friend wrote to me that he had purchased in the bazaar at Nijni Novgorod copies of ‘The Soul of Man’ in four
different languages. |
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With those of
a well-known tragic figure in history it may well be claimed that Wilde’s
message and appeal were addressed to the wider audience of Europe where they
have met with a response such has been accorded to very few other English
authors. |
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In 1907–8 in
order to make complete the Library edition of Wilde, it was necessary to
lease copyrights not belonging to myself.
Licences, were, of course, obtained from the
different owners. But Mr. Arthur
Humphreys most generously permitted me to include ‘The Soul of Man’ without
the usual quid pro quo. I have only consented to add this
superfluous preface on condition that he allows me to mention [viii\\] a
kindness which must serve as the single possible excuse for my present
intrusion. |
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Unique among
Wilde’s writings it is no exaggeration to say that ‘The Soul of Man’ is
unique in English literature. At least
there is no more comprehensive essay with which I am acquainted. Without being in the least desultory, it
touches, though ever so lightly, almost every subject on which educated
people think when they think at all.
And every subject is illuminated by a phrase which haunts the
memory. Indeed, many of these phrases
have been boldly appropriated without acknowledgment or ‘socialised’
by some of our leading platform orators.
It may interest some of the author’s admirers to note that in this
essay he acknowledges what in his previous writings he pretended to
ignore–the potentialities of science.
In the old æsthetic days, under the influence of Ruskin and the
Pre-Raphaelites, Wilde affected to depreciate the debt of humanity to modern
science. Art was more or less to
[ix//] solve everything. Here he
recognises that science, not art, is going to cure consumption and solve the
problem of misery. Indeed, his
appreciation of life and its issues, his perception that art and literature
are component parts of life and not the whole of life, account in some
measure for the eagerness with which the present and younger generation read
Wilde, when the fame of his more esteemed contemporaries is already a little
dimmed and their canons of art, literature and life are being adjusted. |
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That Wilde
preached orthodox Socialism would, I think, be difficult to maintain. He appears to be playing with an idea like
the guests of Plato’s ‘Symposium’. He
unlocks the door of his fantasy when he says ‘Utopia is the one country at
which humanity is always landing.’
Nevertheless, Socialists of the present day have hailed, I am told,
‘The Soul of Man,’ as a quite possible manifesto; while Tories and Liberals
have not hesitated to quote the [x\\] severe criticisms on democracy, even in
the House of Commons. In the
vindication of Individualism there is, I venture to think, a not entirely
fantastic answer to some of the social and economic questions which disturb
every thoughtful member of the community.
The intellectual affinity between Nietzsche, whom Wilde never read,
and the philosophy of his essay will be obvious to all students of the great
German thinker. |
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Wilde used to
say that a work of art was a mirror in which every man saw his own
image. ‘The Soul of Man,’ like its
author, has many facets, and illustrates the well-known principle that the
angle of incident is equal to the angle of reflexion. |
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