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The Picture of Dorian Gray | Gradually Hardening Danish A1

The Picture of Dorian Gray | Gradually Hardening Danish A1

This progressive translation technique brings multiple benefits to language learners. It lets you choose the difficulty level that matches your abilities, making sure the material is challenging but not too difficult. By focusing on understanding words in context, this method boosts your comprehension skills. While direct translations are slightly hidden to promote guessing from context, you can always check unfamiliar words. This approach makes learning a new language both engaging and accessible, offering the right mix of difficulty and encouragement. Embark on a journey through translated classics and enjoy the process of learning through reading.

THEPREFACE
Theartististhecreatorof
smukke
beautifulthings.
Torevealart
og
andconcealtheartistisart’saim.
Den
Thecriticishewho
kan
cantranslateintoanothermanner
eller
oranewmaterialhisimpressionof
smukke
beautifulthings.
Thehighestas
den
thelowestformofcriticismis
en
amodeofautobiography.
Those
der
whofinduglymeaningsin
smukke
beautifulthingsarecorruptwithoutbeingcharming.
Thisis
en
afault.
Thosewhofind
smukke
beautifulmeaningsinbeautifulthingsarethecultivated.
For
disse
thesethereishope.
Theyaretheelecttowhom
smukke
beautifulthingsmeanonlybeauty.
Der
Thereisnosuchthingasamoral
eller
oranimmoralbook.
Booksare
godt
wellwritten,orbadlywritten.
Thatis
alt
all.
Thenineteenthcenturydislikeofrealismis
det
therageofCalibanseeinghis
eget
ownfaceinaglass.
Det
Thenineteenthcenturydislikeofromanticismis
det
therageofCalibannot
se
seeinghisownfacein
et
aglass.
Themorallifeofmanforms
del
partofthesubject-matterof
den
theartist,butthemoralityofartconsistsin
den
theperfectuseofanimperfectmedium.
Ingen
Noartistdesirestoprove
noget
anything.
Eventhingsthatare
sande
truecanbeproved.
Noartist
har
hasethicalsympathies.
Anethicalsympathyin
en
anartistisanunpardonablemannerismofstyle.
Ingen
Noartistisevermorbid.
Theartist
kan
canexpresseverything.
Thoughtandlanguagearetotheartistinstrumentsof
et
anart.
Viceandvirtuearetotheartistmaterialsfor
en
anart.
Fromthepointofviewofform,thetypeof
alle
alltheartsistheartofthemusician.
Fromthepointofviewoffeeling,theactor’scraftisthetype.
Al
Allartisatoncesurface
og
andsymbol.
Thosewhogobeneaththesurface
gør
dosoattheirperil.
Those
der
whoreadthesymboldosoattheirperil.
Itisthespectator,
og
andnotlife,thatart
virkelig
reallymirrors.
Diversityofopinion
om
aboutaworkofart
viser
showsthattheworkis
nyt
new,complex,andvital.
Whencriticsdisagree,theartistisinaccord
med
withhimself.
Wecanforgive
en
amanformakingauseful
ting
thingaslongashe
lave
doesnotadmireit.
The
eneste
onlyexcuseformakingauseless
ting
thingisthatoneadmiresitintensely.
Al
Allartisquiteuseless.
CHAPTERI.
Den
Thestudiowasfilledwith
den
therichodourofroses,
og
andwhenthelightsummerwindstirredamidst
den
thetreesofthegarden,
der
therecamethroughtheopen
dør
doortheheavyscentof
den
thelilac,orthemoredelicateperfumeof
den
thepink-floweringthorn.
FromthecornerofthedivanofPersiansaddle-bagsonwhichhewas
lå
lying,smoking,aswashiscustom,innumerablecigarettes,LordHenryWotton
kunne
couldjustcatchthegleamofthehoney-sweet
og
andhoney-colouredblossomsofalaburnum,whosetremulousbranchesseemedhardlyabletobeartheburdenof
en
abeautysoflamelikeastheirs;
og
andnowandthenthefantasticshadowsofbirdsinflightflittedacrossthelongtussore-silkcurtainsthatwerestretchedin
foran
frontofthehugewindow,producinga
slags
kindofmomentaryJapaneseeffect,
og
andmakinghimthinkofthosepallid,jade-facedpaintersofTokyowho,
gennem
throughthemediumofanartthatisnecessarilyimmobile,seektoconveythesenseofswiftness
og
andmotion.
Thesullenmurmurofthebeesshoulderingtheirway
gennem
throughthelongunmowngrass,
eller
orcirclingwithmonotonousinsistenceroundthedustygilthornsofthestragglingwoodbine,seemedto
gøre
makethestillnessmoreoppressive.
Den
ThedimroarofLondonwas
som
likethebourdonnoteof
en
adistantorgan.
Inthecentreofthe
rummet
room,clampedtoanuprighteasel,
stod
stoodthefull-lengthportraitofa
ung
youngmanofextraordinarypersonalbeauty,
og
andinfrontofit,
nogle
somelittledistanceaway,was
sad
sittingtheartisthimself,BasilHallward,whosesuddendisappearance
nogle
someyearsagocaused,atthe
tidspunkt
time,suchpublicexcitementand
gav
gaverisetosomanystrangeconjectures.
As
den
thepainterlookedatthegracious
og
andcomelyformhehadsoskilfullymirroredinhisart,
et
asmileofpleasurepassedacrosshis
ansigt
face,andseemedabouttolinger
der
there.
Buthesuddenlystarted
op
up,andclosinghiseyes,
placerede
placedhisfingersuponthelids,asthoughhesoughttoimprisonwithinhisbrain
nogle
somecuriousdreamfromwhichhefearedhe
kunne
mightawake.
“Itisyour
bedste
bestwork,Basil,thebestthingyou
har
haveeverdone,”saidLordHenrylanguidly.
“You
må
mustcertainlysenditnext
år
yeartotheGrosvenor.
TheAcademyis
for
toolargeandtoovulgar.
WheneverI
har
havegonethere,therehavebeen
enten
eithersomanypeoplethatI
har
havenotbeenableto
se
seethepictures,whichwasdreadful,
eller
orsomanypicturesthatI
har
havenotbeenableto
se
seethepeople,whichwasworse.
Det
TheGrosvenorisreallythe
eneste
onlyplace.”
“Idon’tthinkIshall
sende
senditanywhere,”heanswered,tossinghishead
tilbage
backinthatoddwaythat
plejede
usedtomakehisfriendslaughathimatOxford.
“No,Iwon’t
sender
senditanywhere.”
LordHenryelevatedhiseyebrows
og
andlookedathiminamazement
gennem
throughthethinbluewreathsofsmoke
der
thatcurledupinsuchfancifulwhorlsfromhisheavy,opium-taintedcigarette.
“Not
sende
senditanywhere?
Mydearfellow,
hvorfor
why?
Haveyouanyreason?
Whatoddchapsyoupaintersare!
You
gør
doanythingintheworldtogain
et
areputation.
Assoonasyou
har
haveone,youseemto
vil
wanttothrowitaway.
Itissillyofyou,forthereis
kun
onlyonethinginthe
verden
worldworsethanbeingtalked
om
about,andthatisnotbeing
talt
talkedabout.
Aportraitlike
dette
thiswouldsetyoufarabove
alle
alltheyoungmeninEngland,
og
andmaketheoldmen
ganske
quitejealous,ifoldmenareevercapableof
nogen
anyemotion.”
“Iknowyou
vil
willlaughatme,”hereplied,“butI
virkelig
reallycan’texhibitit.
I
har
haveputtoomuchofmyselfintoit.”
LordHenrystretchedhimself
ud
outonthedivanandlaughed.
“Yes,I
vidste
knewyouwould;
butitis
helt
quitetrue,allthesame.”
“Too
meget
muchofyourselfinit!
Uponmy
ord
word,Basil,Ididn’tknowyouweresovain;
og
andIreallycan’tsee
nogen
anyresemblancebetweenyou,withyourruggedstrong
ansigt
faceandyourcoal-blackhair,
og
andthisyoungAdonis,wholooksasifhewas
lavet
madeoutofivoryandrose-leaves.
Hvorfor
Why,mydearBasil,heisaNarcissus,
og
andyou—well,ofcourseyou
har
haveanintellectualexpressionand
alt
allthat.
Butbeauty,realbeauty,ends
hvor
whereanintellectualexpressionbegins.
Intellectisinitself
en
amodeofexaggeration,anddestroystheharmonyof
ethvert
anyface.
Themomentonesits
ned
downtothink,onebecomesallnose,
eller
orallforehead,orsomethinghorrid.
Se
Lookatthesuccessfulmeninanyof
de
thelearnedprofessions.
Howperfectlyhideoustheyare!
Except,of
selvfølgelig
course,intheChurch.
ButthenintheChurchtheydon’tthink.
En
Abishopkeepsonsayingattheageofeightywhathewas
sige
toldtosaywhenhewas
en
aboyofeighteen,andas
en
anaturalconsequencehealways
ser
looksabsolutelydelightful.
Yourmysterious
unge
youngfriend,whosenameyou
har
havenevertoldme,butwhosepicture
virkelig
reallyfascinatesme,neverthinks.
Ifeel
helt
quitesureofthat.
Heissomebrainless
smuk
beautifulcreaturewhoshouldbe
altid
alwayshereinwinterwhenwehave
ikke
noflowerstolookat,
og
andalwayshereinsummer
når
whenwewantsomethingtochillourintelligence.
Don’tflatteryourself,Basil:
youarenotin
det
theleastlikehim.”
“Youdon’t
forstår
understandme,Harry,”answeredtheartist.
“Of
selvfølgelig
courseIamnotlike
ham
him.
Iknowthatperfectly
godt
well.
Indeed,Ishouldbe
ked
sorrytolooklikehim.
Youshrugyourshoulders?
Iam
fortæller
tellingyouthetruth.
Thereis
en
afatalityaboutallphysical
og
andintellectualdistinction,thesortoffatalitythatseemsto
hund
dogthroughhistorythefalteringstepsofkings.
Itis
bedre
betternottobedifferentfromone’sfellows.
Theugly
og
andthestupidhavethe
bedste
bestofitinthis
verden
world.
Theycansitattheirease
og
andgapeattheplay.
Hvis
Iftheyknownothingofvictory,theyareatleastsparedtheknowledgeofdefeat.
They
leve
liveasweallshouldlive—undisturbed,indifferent,
og
andwithoutdisquiet.
Theyneitherbringruinuponothers,noreverreceiveitfromalienhands.
Yourrank
og
andwealth,Harry;
mybrains,
sådan
suchastheyare—myart,whateveritmaybeworth;
DorianGray’s
gode
goodlooks—weshallallsufferforwhat
det
thegodshavegivenus,sufferterribly.”
“DorianGray?
Isthathisname?”
spurgte
askedLordHenry,walkingacrossthestudiotowardsBasilHallward.
“Yes,thatishis
navn
name.
Ididn’tintendto
fortælle
tellittoyou.”
“But
hvorfor
whynot?”
“Oh,Ican’texplain.
Når
WhenIlikepeopleimmensely,I
aldrig
nevertelltheirnamesto
nogen
anyone.
Itislikesurrendering
en
apartofthem.
Ihavegrownto
elske
lovesecrecy.
Itseemstobetheone
ting
thingthatcanmakemodern
liv
lifemysteriousormarvellousto
os
us.
Thecommonestthingisdelightful
hvis
ifoneonlyhidesit.
Når
WhenIleavetownnowI
aldrig
nevertellmypeoplewhereIamgoing.
Hvis
IfIdid,Iwould
miste
loseallmypleasure.
Itis
en
asillyhabit,Idare
sige
say,butsomehowitseemsto
bringe
bringagreatdealofromanceintoone’s
liv
life.
Isupposeyouthinkmeawfullyfoolishaboutit?”
“Notatall,”
svarede
answeredLordHenry,“notatall,my
kære
dearBasil.
Youseemto
glemme
forgetthatIammarried,
og
andtheonecharmofmarriageisthatit
gør
makesalifeofdeceptionabsolutelynecessaryfor
begge
bothparties.
Ineverknow
hvor
wheremywifeis,andmy
kone
wifeneverknowswhatIam
laver
doing.
Whenwemeet—wedo
mødes
meetoccasionally,whenwedineout
sammen
together,orgodownto
de
theDuke’s—wetelleachother
de
themostabsurdstorieswith
de
themostseriousfaces.
My
kone
wifeisverygoodatit—much
bedre
better,infact,thanIam.
She
aldrig
nevergetsconfusedoverherdates,
og
andIalwaysdo.
But
når
whenshedoesfindme
ud
out,shemakesnorowatall.
I
nogle gange
sometimeswishshewould;
butshemerelylaughsatme.”
“I
hader
hatethewayyoutalk
om
aboutyourmarriedlife,Harry,”
sagde
saidBasilHallward,strollingtowards
den
thedoorthatledinto
den
thegarden.
“Ibelievethatyouare
virkelig
reallyaverygoodhusband,
men
butthatyouarethoroughlyashamedofyour
egne
ownvirtues.
Youareanextraordinaryfellow.
You
aldrig
neversayamoralthing,
og
andyouneverdoa
forkert
wrongthing.
Yourcynicismissimply
en
apose.”
“Beingnaturalissimply
en
apose,andthemostirritatingposeIknow,”criedLordHenry,laughing;
og
andthetwoyoungmen
gik
wentoutintothegarden
sammen
togetherandensconcedthemselveson
en
alongbambooseatthat
stod
stoodintheshadeof
en
atalllaurelbush.
Thesunlightslipped
over
overthepolishedleaves.
In
de
thegrass,whitedaisiesweretremulous.
Efter
Afterapause,LordHenrypulledouthis
ur
watch.
“IamafraidI
må
mustbegoing,Basil,”hemurmured,“and
før
beforeIgo,Iinsistonyour
svarer
answeringaquestionIputtoyousome
tid
timeago.”
“Whatisthat?”
sagde
saidthepainter,keepinghiseyesfixedontheground.
“You
ved
knowquitewell.”
“Idonot,Harry.”
“Well,Iwill
fortælle
tellyouwhatitis.
I
vil
wantyoutoexplaintome
hvorfor
whyyouwon’texhibitDorianGray’spicture.
I
vil
wanttherealreason.”
“I
fortalte
toldyoutherealreason.”
“No,you
gjorde
didnot.
Yousaiditwas
fordi
becausetherewastoomuchofyourselfinit.
Now,thatischildish.”
“Harry,”
sagde
saidBasilHallward,lookinghimstraightintheface,“everyportrait
der
thatispaintedwithfeelingis
et
aportraitoftheartist,notofthesitter.
Thesitterismerelytheaccident,theoccasion.
Itisnothe
der
whoisrevealedbythepainter;
itisratherthepainter
der
who,onthecolouredcanvas,revealshimself.
ThereasonI
vil
willnotexhibitthispictureis
at
thatIamafraidthatI
har
haveshowninitthesecretofmy
egen
ownsoul.”
LordHenrylaughed.
“Andwhatisthat?”
he
spurgte
asked.
“Iwilltellyou,”
sagde
saidHallward;
butanexpressionofperplexity
kom
cameoverhisface.
“Iam
alt
allexpectation,Basil,”continuedhiscompanion,glancingat
ham
him.
“Oh,thereisreally
meget
verylittletotell,Harry,”
svarede
answeredthepainter;
“andIam
bange
afraidyouwillhardlyunderstand
det
it.
Perhapsyouwillhardly
tro
believeit.”
LordHenrysmiled,
og
andleaningdown,pluckedapink-petalleddaisyfromthegrass
og
andexaminedit.
“Iam
helt
quitesureIshallunderstandit,”hereplied,gazingintentlyatthe
lille
littlegolden,white-feathereddisk,“andasfor
tro
believingthings,Icanbelieve
alt
anything,providedthatitis
helt
quiteincredible.”
Thewindshook
nogle
someblossomsfromthetrees,
og
andtheheavylilac-blooms,withtheirclusteringstars,
bevægede
movedtoandfrointhelanguid
luft
air.
Agrasshopperbegantochirrupbythewall,
og
andlikeabluethread
en
alongthindragon-flyfloated
forbi
pastonitsbrowngauzewings.
LordHenry
følte
feltasifhecould
høre
hearBasilHallward’sheartbeating,
og
andwonderedwhatwascoming.
“Thestoryissimplythis,”
sagde
saidthepainteraftersome
tid
time.
“TwomonthsagoIwenttoacrushatLadyBrandon’s.
You
ved
knowwepoorartistshaveto
vise
showourselvesinsocietyfrom
tid
timetotime,justtoremindthepublicthatwearenotsavages.
Med
Withaneveningcoatandawhitetie,asyou
fortalte
toldmeonce,anybody,evenastock-broker,
kan
cangainareputationforbeingcivilized.
Nå
Well,afterIhadbeenintheroomabout
ti
tenminutes,talkingtohugeoverdresseddowagers
og
andtediousacademicians,Isuddenly
blev
becameconsciousthatsomeonewas
kiggede
lookingatme.
Iturnedhalf-wayround
og
andsawDorianGrayforthe
første
firsttime.
Whenoureyesmet,I
følte
feltthatIwasgrowingpale.
En
Acurioussensationofterror
kom
cameoverme.
IknewthatIhadcome
ansigt
facetofacewithsome
en
onewhosemerepersonalitywassofascinatingthat,ifIalloweditto
gøre
doso,itwouldabsorbmy
hele
wholenature,mywholesoul,myveryartitself.
Ididnot
ville
wantanyexternalinfluenceinmy
liv
life.
Youknowyourself,Harry,
hvor
howindependentIambynature.
I
har
havealwaysbeenmyownmaster;
havde
hadatleastalwaysbeenso,tillI
mødte
metDorianGray.
Then—butIdon’t
ved
knowhowtoexplainittoyou.
Noget
SomethingseemedtotellmethatIwasonthevergeof
en
aterriblecrisisinmy
liv
life.
Ihadastrangefeeling
at
thatfatehadinstoreformeexquisitejoys
og
andexquisitesorrows.
Igrew
bange
afraidandturnedtoquittheroom.
Itwasnotconsciencethat
gøre
mademedoso:
itwas
en
asortofcowardice.
I
tager
takenocredittomyselffor
forsøge
tryingtoescape.”
“Conscienceandcowardicearereally
det
thesamethings,Basil.
Conscienceisthetrade-nameofthefirm.
Thatisall.”
“Idon’t
tror
believethat,Harry,andIdon’t
tror
believeyoudoeither.
However,whateverwasmymotive—andit
kan
mayhavebeenpride,forI
plejede
usedtobeveryproud—Icertainlystruggledtothe
døren
door.
There,ofcourse,IstumbledagainstLadyBrandon.
‘Youarenotgoingto
løbe
runawaysosoon,Mr.Hallward?’shescreamed
ud
out.
Youknowhercuriouslyshrillvoice?”
“Yes;
sheis
en
apeacockineverythingbutbeauty,”
sagde
saidLordHenry,pullingthedaisytobits
med
withhislongnervousfingers.
“I
kunne
couldnotgetridof
hende
her.
Shebroughtmeuptoroyalties,
og
andpeoplewithstarsandgarters,
og
andelderlyladieswithgigantictiaras
og
andparrotnoses.
Shespokeofmeasherdearest
ven
friend.
Ihadonlymetheronce
før
before,butshetookitintoherheadtolionize
mig
me.
Ibelievesomepictureofmine
havde
hadmadeagreatsuccessat
det
thetime,atleasthadbeenchattered
om
aboutinthepennynewspapers,
som
whichisthenineteenth-centurystandardofimmortality.
SuddenlyIfoundmyself
ansigt
facetofacewiththe
unge
youngmanwhosepersonalityhadsostrangelystirred
mig
me.