The Picture of Dorian Gray | Progressive Translation Books for French A1 Students

The Picture of Dorian Gray | Progressive Translation Books for French A1 Students

Unlock the potential of this modern translation approach, designed to enhance your language learning experience. By allowing you to choose your difficulty level, it guarantees a personalized challenge that's suited to your progress. This method promotes comprehension by encouraging you to infer the meaning of new words from context, rather than relying heavily on direct translations. Though some translations are obscured to stimulate guessing, it's perfectly fine to consult a dictionary when needed. This technique combines challenge and support, making language learning fun and effective. Explore these translated classics to enjoy literature while advancing your language skills.

THEPREFACE
Theartistis
le
the
creatorofbeautifulthings.
Torevealart
et
and
concealtheartistisart’saim.
Le
The
criticishewho
peut
can
translateintoanothermanner
ou
or
anewmaterialhisimpressionofbeautifulthings.
La
The
highestasthelowestformofcriticismis
un
a
modeofautobiography.
Those
qui
who
finduglymeaningsinbeautifulthingsarecorrupt
sans
without
beingcharming.
Thisis
une
a
fault.
Thosewhofindbeautifulmeaningsinbeautifulthingsare
les
the
cultivated.
Forthesethereishope.
Theyaretheelecttowhombeautifulthings
signifient
mean
onlybeauty.
Thereis
pas
no
suchthingasamoral
ou
or
animmoralbook.
Booksare
bien
well
written,orbadlywritten.
Que
That
isall.
ThenineteenthcenturydislikeofrealismistherageofCaliban
voyant
seeing
hisownfacein
un
a
glass.
ThenineteenthcenturydislikeofromanticismistherageofCalibannot
voir
seeing
hisownfacein
un
a
glass.
Themorallifeofmanforms
partie
part
ofthesubject-matterof
la
the
artist,butthemoralityofartconsistsin
la
the
perfectuseofanimperfectmedium.
Aucun
No
artistdesirestoproveanything.
Même
Even
thingsthataretrue
peuvent
can
beproved.
Noartisthasethicalsympathies.
Anethicalsympathyinanartistisanunpardonablemannerismofstyle.
Aucun
No
artistisevermorbid.
Theartist
peut
can
expresseverything.
Thoughtandlanguagearetotheartistinstrumentsofanart.
Vice
et
and
virtuearetotheartistmaterialsfor
un
an
art.
Fromthepointofviewofform,thetypeof
tous
all
theartsistheartofthemusician.
From
le
the
pointofviewoffeeling,
le
the
actor’scraftisthetype.
Tout
All
artisatoncesurface
et
and
symbol.
Thosewhogobeneaththesurface
font
do
soattheirperil.
Ceux
Those
whoreadthesymbol
font
do
soattheirperil.
Itisthespectator,
et
and
notlife,thatart
vraiment
really
mirrors.
Diversityofopinion
sur
about
aworkofart
montre
shows
thattheworkisnew,complex,
et
and
vital.
Whencriticsdisagree,
les
the
artistisinaccord
avec
with
himself.
Wecanforgivea
homme
man
formakingauseful
chose
thing
aslongashe
faire
does
notadmireit.
The
seule
only
excuseformakingauseless
chose
thing
isthatoneadmiresitintensely.
Tout
All
artisquiteuseless.
CHAPTERI.
Thestudiowasfilledwiththerichodourofroses,
et
and
whenthelightsummerwindstirredamidstthetreesofthegarden,therecamethroughtheopen
porte
door
theheavyscentofthelilac,
ou
or
themoredelicateperfumeofthepink-floweringthorn.
FromthecornerofthedivanofPersiansaddle-bagson
dont
which
hewaslying,smoking,aswashiscustom,innumerablecigarettes,LordHenryWotton
pouvait
could
justcatchthegleamofthehoney-sweet
et
and
honey-colouredblossomsofalaburnum,whosetremulousbranchesseemedhardlyabletobeartheburdenofabeautysoflamelikeastheirs;
et
and
nowandthenthefantasticshadowsofbirdsinflightflittedacrossthe
temps
long
tussore-silkcurtainsthatwerestretchedin
devant
front
ofthehugewindow,producinga
sorte
kind
ofmomentaryJapaneseeffect,
et
and
makinghimthinkof
ces
those
pallid,jade-facedpaintersofTokyowho,throughthemediumofanartthatisnecessarilyimmobile,seektoconveythesenseofswiftness
et
and
motion.
Thesullenmurmurofthebeesshoulderingtheir
chemin
way
throughthelongunmowngrass,
ou
or
circlingwithmonotonousinsistenceroundthedustygilthornsofthestragglingwoodbine,seemedto
rendre
make
thestillnessmoreoppressive.
ThedimroarofLondonwas
comme
like
thebourdonnoteofadistantorgan.
Inthecentreoftheroom,clampedtoanuprighteasel,stoodthefull-lengthportraitofa
jeune
young
manofextraordinarypersonalbeauty,
et
and
infrontofit,somelittledistanceaway,was
assis
sitting
theartisthimself,BasilHallward,whosesuddendisappearancesomeyearsago
provoqua
caused
,atthetime,suchpublicexcitement
et
and
gaverisetosomanystrangeconjectures.
Asthepainter
regardait
looked
atthegraciousandcomelyformhehadsoskilfullymirroredinhisart,
un
a
smileofpleasurepassedacrosshis
visage
face
,andseemedabouttolingerthere.
Mais
But
hesuddenlystartedup,
et
and
closinghiseyes,placedhisfingersupon
les
the
lids,asthoughhesoughttoimprisonwithinhisbrainsomecurious
rêve
dream
fromwhichhefearedhe
pourrait
might
awake.
“Itisyour
meilleur
best
work,Basil,thebest
chose
thing
youhaveeverdone,”
dit
said
LordHenrylanguidly.
“You
devez
must
certainlysenditnextyeartotheGrosvenor.
TheAcademyis
trop
too
largeandtoovulgar.
WheneverI
eu
have
gonethere,therehavebeen
soit
either
somanypeoplethatI
eu
have
notbeenableto
voir
see
thepictures,whichwasdreadful,
ou
or
somanypicturesthatI
eu
have
notbeenableto
voir
see
thepeople,whichwasworse.
Le
The
Grosvenorisreallytheonlyplace.”
“Idon’t
pense
think
Ishallsenditanywhere,”he
répondu
answered
,tossinghisheadbackinthatodd
façon
way
thatusedtomakehisfriendslaughathimatOxford.
“No,Iwon’tsenditanywhere.”
LordHenryelevatedhiseyebrows
et
and
lookedathiminamazement
travers
through
thethinbluewreathsofsmoke
qui
that
curledupinsuchfancifulwhorlsfromhisheavy,opium-taintedcigarette.
“Notsenditanywhere?
My
cher
dear
fellow,why?
Haveyouanyreason?
Whatoddchapsyoupaintersare!
You
faites
do
anythingintheworldtogain
une
a
reputation.
Assoonasyouhave
un
one
,youseemtowanttothrowitaway.
Itissillyofyou,forthereis
seule
only
onethinginthe
monde
world
worsethanbeingtalkedabout,
et
and
thatisnotbeing
parlé
talked
about.
Aportraitlikethiswouldsetyoufarabove
tous
all
theyoungmeninEngland,
et
and
maketheoldmenquitejealous,
si
if
oldmenareevercapableofanyemotion.”
“I
sais
know
youwilllaughatme,”hereplied,“butI
vraiment
really
can’texhibitit.
Ihave
mis
put
toomuchofmyselfintoit.”
LordHenrystretchedhimselfouton
le
the
divanandlaughed.
“Yes,I
savais
knew
youwould;
butitis
tout à fait
quite
true,allthesame.”
“Toomuchofyourselfin
il
it
!
Uponmyword,Basil,Ididn’t
savais
know
youweresovain;
et
and
Ireallycan’tseeanyresemblance
entre
between
you,withyourruggedstrong
visage
face
andyourcoal-blackhair,
et
and
thisyoungAdonis,wholooksasifhewas
fait
made
outofivoryandrose-leaves.
Why,my
cher
dear
Basil,heisaNarcissus,
et
and
you—well,ofcourseyouhaveanintellectualexpression
et
and
allthat.
Butbeauty,realbeauty,ends
where
anintellectualexpressionbegins.
Intellectisinitself
un
a
modeofexaggeration,anddestroystheharmonyof
n'importe quel
any
face.
Themomentonesitsdownto
penser
think
,onebecomesallnose,
ou
or
allforehead,orsomethinghorrid.
Regardez
Look
atthesuccessfulmeninanyof
les
the
learnedprofessions.
Howperfectlyhideousthey
sont
are
!
Except,ofcourse,intheChurch.
Mais
But
thenintheChurchtheydon’t
pensent
think
.
Abishopkeepsonsayingattheageofeightywhathewastoldto
dire
say
whenhewasa
garçon
boy
ofeighteen,andas
un
a
naturalconsequencehealwayslooksabsolutelydelightful.
Yourmysterious
jeune
young
friend,whosenameyouhave
jamais
never
toldme,butwhosepicture
vraiment
really
fascinatesme,neverthinks.
Ifeel
tout à fait
quite
sureofthat.
Heissomebrainless
belle
beautiful
creaturewhoshouldbe
toujours
always
hereinwinterwhenwe
devrait
have
noflowerstolookat,
et
and
alwayshereinsummer
quand
when
wewantsomethingtochillourintelligence.
Don’tflatteryourself,Basil:
youarenotintheleast
comme
like
him.”
“Youdon’tunderstand
me
me
,Harry,”answeredtheartist.
“Of
sûr
course
Iamnotlike
lui
him
.
Iknowthatperfectly
bien
well
.
Indeed,Ishouldbesorryto
ressembler
look
likehim.
Youshrugyourshoulders?
Iam
dis
telling
youthetruth.
Thereis
une
a
fatalityaboutallphysical
et
and
intellectualdistinction,thesortoffatality
qui
that
seemstodogthroughhistorythefalteringstepsofkings.
Itis
mieux
better
nottobedifferentfromone’sfellows.
Theugly
et
and
thestupidhavethe
meilleur
best
ofitinthis
monde
world
.
Theycansitattheirease
et
and
gapeattheplay.
Ifthey
savent
know
nothingofvictory,theyareat
moins
least
sparedtheknowledgeofdefeat.
They
vivre
live
asweallshouldlive—undisturbed,indifferent,
et
and
withoutdisquiet.
Theyneitherbringruinuponothers,noreverreceiveitfromalienhands.
Yourrank
et
and
wealth,Harry;
mybrains,
tel
such
astheyare—myart,whateveritmaybeworth;
DorianGray’sgoodlooks—weshall
tous
all
sufferforwhatthegods
ont
have
givenus,sufferterribly.”
“DorianGray?
Isthathisname?”
demandé
asked
LordHenry,walkingacross
le
the
studiotowardsBasilHallward.
“Yes,thatishis
nom
name
.
Ididn’tintendto
dire
tell
ittoyou.”
“But
pourquoi
why
not?”
“Oh,Ican’texplain.
Quand
When
Ilikepeopleimmensely,I
jamais
never
telltheirnamestoanyone.
Itis
comme
like
surrenderingapartofthem.
Ihavegrownto
aimer
love
secrecy.
Itseemstobe
la
the
onethingthatcan
rendre
make
modernlifemysteriousormarvellousto
nous
us
.
Thecommonestthingisdelightful
si
if
oneonlyhidesit.
Quand
When
IleavetownnowI
jamais
never
tellmypeoplewhereIam
vais
going
.
IfIdid,Iwould
perdrais
lose
allmypleasure.
Itis
une
a
sillyhabit,Idare
dire
say
,butsomehowitseemsto
apporter
bring
agreatdealofromanceintoone’s
vie
life
.
Isupposeyouthinkmeawfullyfoolishaboutit?”
“Notatall,”
répondit
answered
LordHenry,“notat
tout
all
,mydearBasil.
Youseemto
oublier
forget
thatIammarried,
et
and
theonecharmofmarriageis
que
that
itmakesalifeofdeceptionabsolutelynecessaryfor
deux
both
parties.
Ineverknow
where
mywifeis,andmy
femme
wife
neverknowswhatIam
fais
doing
.
Whenwemeet—wedo
rencontrons
meet
occasionally,whenwedineout
ensemble
together
,orgodowntotheDuke’s—we
racontons
tell
eachotherthemostabsurdstories
avec
with
themostseriousfaces.
My
femme
wife
isverygoodatit—much
mieux
better
,infact,thanIam.
She
jamais
never
getsconfusedoverherdates,
et
and
Ialwaysdo.
But
quand
when
shedoesfindmeout,she
fait
makes
norowatall.
I
parfois
sometimes
wishshewould;
butshemerelylaughsatme.”
“I
déteste
hate
thewayyoutalkaboutyour
marié
married
life,Harry,”saidBasilHallward,strollingtowards
la
the
doorthatledinto
la
the
garden.
“Ibelievethatyouare
vraiment
really
averygoodhusband,
mais
but
thatyouarethoroughlyashamedofyourownvirtues.
Youare
un
an
extraordinaryfellow.
Younever
dis
say
amoralthing,andyou
jamais
never
doawrongthing.
Yourcynicismissimply
une
a
pose.”
“Beingnaturalissimply
une
a
pose,andthemostirritatingposeIknow,”criedLordHenry,laughing;
et
and
thetwoyoungmenwentoutintothegarden
ensemble
together
andensconcedthemselveson
un
a
longbambooseatthat
tenait
stood
intheshadeof
un
a
talllaurelbush.
Thesunlightslipped
sur
over
thepolishedleaves.
In
les
the
grass,whitedaisiesweretremulous.
Après
After
apause,LordHenrypulledouthis
montre
watch
.
“IamafraidI
doive
must
begoing,Basil,”hemurmured,“and
avant
before
Igo,Iinsistonyour
répondiez
answering
aquestionIputtoyousometimeago.”
“Whatisthat?”
dit
said
thepainter,keepinghiseyesfixedontheground.
“You
savez
know
quitewell.”
“Idonot,Harry.”
“Well,I
vais
will
tellyouwhatitis.
I
veux
want
youtoexplaintome
pourquoi
why
youwon’texhibitDorianGray’spicture.
I
veux
want
therealreason.”
“I
dit
told
youtherealreason.”
“No,you
fait
did
not.
Yousaiditwasbecause
y
there
wastoomuchofyourselfin
elle
it
.
Now,thatischildish.”
“Harry,”
dit
said
BasilHallward,lookinghimstraightintheface,“everyportraitthatispainted
avec
with
feelingisaportraitoftheartist,notofthesitter.
La
The
sitterismerelytheaccident,
la
the
occasion.
Itisnothe
qui
who
isrevealedbythepainter;
itisratherthepainter
qui
who
,onthecolouredcanvas,revealshimself.
ThereasonI
vais
will
notexhibitthispictureis
que
that
IamafraidthatI
avoir
have
showninitthesecretofmy
propre
own
soul.”
LordHenrylaughed.
“Andwhatisthat?”
he
demandé
asked
.
“Iwilltellyou,”
dit
said
Hallward;
butanexpressionofperplexity
venue
came
overhisface.
“Iam
tout
all
expectation,Basil,”continuedhiscompanion,glancingat
le
him
.
“Oh,thereisreally
très
very
littletotell,Harry,”
répondit
answered
thepainter;
“andIamafraidyouwillhardly
compreniez
understand
it.
Perhapsyouwillhardly
croire
believe
it.”
LordHenrysmiled,
et
and
leaningdown,pluckedapink-petalleddaisyfrom
le
the
grassandexaminedit.
“Iam
tout à fait
quite
sureIshallunderstandit,”hereplied,gazingintentlyatthe
petit
little
golden,white-feathereddisk,“andasfor
croire
believing
things,Icanbelieve
tout
anything
,providedthatitis
tout à fait
quite
incredible.”
Thewindshook
quelques
some
blossomsfromthetrees,
et
and
theheavylilac-blooms,withtheirclusteringstars,
déplaçaient
moved
toandfrointhelanguidair.
Agrasshopperbegantochirrupbythewall,
et
and
likeabluethreada
longue
long
thindragon-flyfloatedpastonitsbrowngauzewings.
LordHenry
sentait
felt
asifhecould
entendre
hear
BasilHallward’sheartbeating,
et
and
wonderedwhatwascoming.
“Thestoryissimplythis,”
dit
said
thepainteraftersome
temps
time
.
“TwomonthsagoIwenttoacrushatLadyBrandon’s.
You
savez
know
wepoorartistshaveto
montrer
show
ourselvesinsocietyfrom
temps
time
totime,justtoremind
la
the
publicthatwearenotsavages.
Avec
With
aneveningcoatandawhitetie,asyou
dit
told
meonce,anybody,evenastock-broker,
peut
can
gainareputationforbeingcivilized.
Well,
après
after
Ihadbeenin
la
the
roomabouttenminutes,
parlant
talking
tohugeoverdresseddowagers
et
and
tediousacademicians,Isuddenlybecameconscious
que
that
someonewaslookingat
me
me
.
Iturnedhalf-wayround
et
and
sawDorianGrayfor
la
the
firsttime.
Whenoureyesmet,I
senti
felt
thatIwasgrowingpale.
Une
A
curioussensationofterrorcameoverme.
I
savais
knew
thatIhadcomefacetoface
avec
with
someonewhosemerepersonalitywassofascinating
que
that
,ifIalloweditto
faire
do
so,itwouldabsorbmy
toute
whole
nature,mywholesoul,myveryartitself.
Ididnot
voulais
want
anyexternalinfluenceinmy
vie
life
.
Youknowyourself,Harry,howindependentIambynature.
Ihave
toujours
always
beenmyownmaster;
hadatleast
toujours
always
beenso,tillI
rencontre
met
DorianGray.
Then—butIdon’t
sais
know
howtoexplainittoyou.
Quelque chose
Something
seemedtotellme
que
that
Iwasonthevergeofaterriblecrisisinmy
vie
life
.
Ihadastrangefeeling
que
that
fatehadinstoreformeexquisitejoys
et
and
exquisitesorrows.
Igrew
peur
afraid
andturnedtoquit
la
the
room.
Itwasnotconscience
qui
that
mademedoso:
itwas
une
a
sortofcowardice.
Itake
pas
no
credittomyselffor
essayé
trying
toescape.”
“Conscienceandcowardiceare
vraiment
really
thesamethings,Basil.
Conscienceisthetrade-nameofthefirm.
Thatisall.”
“Idon’t
crois
believe
that,Harry,andIdon’t
crois
believe
youdoeither.
However,whateverwasmymotive—andit
pouvait
may
havebeenpride,forIusedtobe
très
very
proud—Icertainlystruggledto
la
the
door.
There,ofcourse,IstumbledagainstLadyBrandon.
‘Youarenotgoingtorunawayso
vite
soon
,Mr.Hallward?’shescreamedout.
You
connaissez
know
hercuriouslyshrillvoice?”
“Yes;
sheis
un
a
peacockineverythingbutbeauty,”
dit
said
LordHenry,pullingthedaisytobits
avec
with
hislongnervousfingers.
“I
pouvais
could
notgetridofher.
Shebroughtmeuptoroyalties,
et
and
peoplewithstarsandgarters,
et
and
elderlyladieswithgigantictiaras
et
and
parrotnoses.
Shespokeofmeasherdearestfriend.
Ihadonlymether
fois
once
before,butshetookitintoherheadtolionize
me
me
.
Ibelievesomepictureofminehadmade
un
a
greatsuccessatthetime,at
moins
least
hadbeenchatteredaboutinthepennynewspapers,
qui
which
isthenineteenth-centurystandardofimmortality.
SuddenlyI
retrouvé
found
myselffacetoface
avec
with
theyoungmanwhosepersonalityhadsostrangelystirred
me
me
.