Wilde was one of the first men in British society to give a creative form to a sexuality that barely yet understood itself, let alone was understood or discussed by straight people. It’s right and proper that we remember the role Wilde played within an otherwise staid and repressive Victorian culture, as well as the important, pioneering work he did describing, in public, a form of same-sex desire that otherwise lay hidden and criminalized on the margins. Less than a decade after he had reached the heights of literary stardom, Wilde was dead. Upon release, he fled into exile, living in penury under an assumed name. Sentenced to two years of backbreaking hard labor, Wilde was spat at by strangers as he was transported via train to jail.
Yet within five years, Wilde’s reputation, and his health, were destroyed. England regarded this sparkling Irishman with a combination of fascination, admiration, and horror, but no one could deny he was becoming a titan of the national culture. He had successfully published works of prose and collections of poetry, and was preparing his first novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray, for publication, a masterful account of a Faustian bargain dripping with desire, vanity, and corruption. For a decade he had been the talk of London, a literary wit who pioneered the fashion and philosophy of aestheticism. In 1891, Oscar Wilde’s star was on the rise.
