The Picture of Dorian Gray | Progressive Translation Books for German A2 Students

The Picture of Dorian Gray | Progressive Translation Books for German A2 Students

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THEPREFACE
Theartististhecreatorofbeautifulthings.
Toreveal
kunst
art
andconcealtheartistisart’saim.
Thecriticishewhocantranslateintoanothermanneroranewmaterialhisimpressionofbeautifulthings.
Thehighestasthelowest
form
form
ofcriticismisamodeofautobiography.
Thosewhofinduglymeaningsinbeautifulthingsarecorruptwithoutbeingcharming.
Thisisa
fehler
fault
.
Thosewhofindbeautifulmeaningsinbeautifulthingsarethecultivated.
Forthesethereishope.
Theyaretheelecttowhombeautifulthingsmeanonly
schönheit
beauty
.
Thereisnosuchthingasamoraloranimmoralbook.
Booksarewellwritten,orbadlywritten.
Thatisall.
ThenineteenthcenturydislikeofrealismistherageofCalibanseeinghisownfaceina
glas
glass
.
ThenineteenthcenturydislikeofromanticismistherageofCalibannotseeinghisownfaceina
glas
glass
.
Themorallifeofmanformspartofthesubject-matteroftheartist,butthemoralityof
kunst
art
consistsintheperfectuseofanimperfectmedium.
Noartistdesiresto
beweisen
prove
anything.
Eventhingsthataretruecanbeproved.
Noartisthasethicalsympathies.
Anethicalsympathyinanartistisanunpardonablemannerismofstyle.
Noartistisevermorbid.
Theartistcanexpresseverything.
Thoughtand
sprache
language
aretotheartistinstrumentsofan
kunst
art
.
Viceandvirtuearetotheartistmaterialsforan
kunst
art
.
Fromthepointofviewof
form
form
,thetypeofalltheartsisthe
kunst
art
ofthemusician.
Fromthepointofviewoffeeling,theactor’scraftisthe
typ
type
.
Allartisatoncesurfaceandsymbol.
Thosewhogobeneaththesurfacedosoattheirperil.
Thosewhoreadthesymboldosoattheirperil.
Itisthespectator,andnotlife,that
kunst
art
reallymirrors.
Diversityofopinionaboutaworkofartshowsthattheworkisnew,complex,andvital.
Whencriticsdisagree,theartistisinaccordwithhimself.
Wecan
verzeihen
forgive
amanformakingausefulthingaslongashedoesnotadmireit.
Theonlyexcuseformakingauselessthingisthatoneadmiresitintensely.
All
kunst
art
isquiteuseless.
CHAPTERI.
Thestudiowasfilledwiththerichodourofroses,andwhenthelightsummerwindstirredamidstthetreesofthegarden,therecamethroughtheopendoortheheavyscentofthelilac,orthemoredelicateperfumeofthepink-floweringthorn.
FromthecornerofthedivanofPersiansaddle-bagsonwhichhewas
lag
lying
,smoking,aswashiscustom,innumerablecigarettes,LordHenryWottoncouldjustcatchthegleamofthehoney-sweetandhoney-colouredblossomsofalaburnum,
dessen
whose
tremulousbranchesseemedhardlyableto
tragen
bear
theburdenofa
schönheit
beauty
soflamelikeastheirs;
andnowandthenthefantasticshadowsofbirdsinflightflitted
über
across
thelongtussore-silkcurtainsthatwerestretchedinfrontofthehuge
fenster
window
,producingakindofmomentaryJapaneseeffect,andmakinghimthinkofthosepallid,jade-facedpaintersofTokyowho,throughthemediumofan
kunst
art
thatisnecessarilyimmobile,seektoconveythesenseofswiftnessandmotion.
Thesullenmurmurofthebeesshoulderingtheirwaythroughthelongunmowngrass,orcirclingwithmonotonousinsistenceroundthedustygilthornsofthestragglingwoodbine,
schien
seemed
tomakethestillnessmoreoppressive.
ThedimroarofLondonwaslikethebourdonnoteofadistantorgan.
Inthecentreoftheroom,clampedtoanuprighteasel,stoodthefull-lengthportraitofayoungmanofextraordinarypersonal
schönheit
beauty
,andinfrontofit,somelittledistanceaway,wassittingtheartisthimself,BasilHallward,
dessen
whose
suddendisappearancesomeyearsagocaused,atthetime,suchpublicexcitementandgaverisetosomanystrangeconjectures.
Asthepainterlookedatthegraciousandcomely
form
form
hehadsoskilfullymirroredinhis
kunst
art
,asmileofpleasurepassedacrosshisface,and
schien
seemed
abouttolingerthere.
Buthe
plötzlich
suddenly
startedup,andclosinghiseyes,placedhisfingersuponthelids,asthoughhesoughttoimprisonwithinhis
gehirn
brain
somecuriousdreamfromwhichhefearedhemightawake.
“Itisyourbestwork,Basil,thebestthingyouhaveeverdone,”saidLordHenrylanguidly.
“Youmust
sicherlich
certainly
senditnextyeartotheGrosvenor.
TheAcademyistoo
groß
large
andtoovulgar.
WheneverIhavegonethere,therehavebeeneithersomanypeoplethatIhavenotbeenabletoseethepictures,whichwasdreadful,orsomanypicturesthatIhavenotbeenabletoseethepeople,whichwas
schlimmer
worse
.
TheGrosvenorisreallytheonlyplace.”
“Idon’tthinkIshallsenditanywhere,”heanswered,tossinghisheadbackinthatoddwaythatusedtomakehisfriendslaughathimatOxford.
“No,Iwon’tsenditanywhere.”
LordHenryelevatedhiseyebrowsandlookedathiminamazementthroughthethinbluewreathsofsmokethatcurledupinsuchfancifulwhorlsfromhisheavy,opium-taintedcigarette.
“Notsenditanywhere?
Mydearfellow,why?
Haveyouanyreason?
Whatoddchapsyoupaintersare!
Youdoanythingintheworldtogainareputation.
Assoonasyouhaveone,you
scheint
seem
towanttothrowitaway.
Itissillyofyou,forthereisonlyonethingintheworld
schlimmer
worse
thanbeingtalkedabout,andthatisnotbeingtalkedabout.
Aportraitlikethiswouldsetyoufar
über
above
alltheyoungmeninEngland,andmaketheoldmenquitejealous,ifoldmenareevercapableofanyemotion.”
“Iknowyouwilllaughatme,”hereplied,“butIreallycan’texhibitit.
Ihaveputtoomuchofmyselfintoit.”
LordHenrystretchedhimselfoutonthedivanand
lachte
laughed
.
“Yes,Iknewyouwould;
butitisquitetrue,allthesame.”
“Toomuchofyourselfinit!
Uponmyword,Basil,Ididn’tknowyouweresovain;
andIreallycan’tseeanyresemblancebetweenyou,withyourruggedstrongfaceandyourcoal-blackhair,andthisyoungAdonis,wholooksasifhewasmadeoutofivoryandrose-leaves.
Why,mydearBasil,heisaNarcissus,andyou—well,ofcourseyouhaveanintellectualexpressionandallthat.
But
schönheit
beauty
,realbeauty,endswhereanintellectualexpression
beginnt
begins
.
Intellectisinitselfamodeofexaggeration,anddestroystheharmonyofanyface.
Themomentonesitsdowntothink,onebecomesall
nase
nose
,orallforehead,orsomethinghorrid.
Lookatthesuccessfulmeninanyofthelearnedprofessions.
Howperfectlyhideoustheyare!
Außer
Except
,ofcourse,inthe
Kirche
Church
.
Buttheninthe
Kirche
Church
theydon’tthink.
Abishopkeepsonsayingatthe
alter
age
ofeightywhathewastoldtosaywhenhewasaboyofeighteen,andasanaturalconsequencehealwayslooks
absolut
absolutely
delightful.
Yourmysteriousyoungfriend,
dessen
whose
nameyouhavenevertoldme,but
dessen
whose
picturereallyfascinatesme,neverthinks.
Ifeelquitesureofthat.
Heissomebrainlessbeautifulcreaturewhoshouldbealwayshereinwinterwhenwehavenoflowerstolookat,andalwaysherein
sommer
summer
whenwewantsomethingtochillourintelligence.
Don’tflatteryourself,Basil:
youarenotintheleastlikehim.”
“Youdon’tunderstandme,Harry,”answeredtheartist.
“OfcourseIamnotlikehim.
Iknowthatperfectlywell.
Indeed,Ishouldbesorrytolooklikehim.
Youshrugyourshoulders?
Iamtellingyouthetruth.
Thereisafatalityaboutallphysicalandintellectualdistinction,thesortoffatalitythat
scheint
seems
todogthroughhistorythefalteringstepsofkings.
Itisbetternottobedifferentfromone’sfellows.
Theuglyandthestupidhavethebestofitinthisworld.
Theycansitattheireaseandgapeattheplay.
Iftheyknownothingofvictory,theyareatleastsparedtheknowledgeofdefeat.
Theyliveasweallshouldlive—undisturbed,indifferent,andwithoutdisquiet.
They
weder
neither
bringruinuponothers,noreverreceiveitfromalienhands.
Yourrankandwealth,Harry;
mybrains,suchastheyare—my
kunst
art
,whateveritmaybe
wert
worth
;
DorianGray’sgoodlooks—weshallallsufferforwhatthegodshavegivenus,sufferterribly.”
“DorianGray?
Isthathisname?”
askedLordHenry,walkingacrossthestudiotowardsBasilHallward.
“Yes,thatishisname.
Ididn’tintendtotellittoyou.”
“Butwhynot?”
“Oh,Ican’t
erklären
explain
.
WhenIlikepeopleimmensely,Inevertelltheirnamestoanyone.
Itislikesurrenderingapartofthem.
Ihavegrowntolovesecrecy.
It
scheint
seems
tobetheonethingthatcanmakemodernlifemysteriousormarvelloustous.
Thecommonestthingisdelightfulifoneonlyhidesit.
WhenIleavetownnowInevertellmypeoplewhereIamgoing.
IfIdid,Iwouldloseallmy
vergnügen
pleasure
.
Itisasillyhabit,Idaresay,butsomehowit
scheint
seems
tobringagreatdealofromanceintoone’slife.
I
nehme an
suppose
youthinkmeawfullyfoolishaboutit?”
“Notatall,”answeredLordHenry,“notatall,mydearBasil.
You
scheinen
seem
toforgetthatIammarried,andtheonecharmof
ehe
marriage
isthatitmakesalifeofdeception
absolut
absolutely
necessaryforbothparties.
Ineverknowwheremywifeis,andmywifeneverknowswhatIamdoing.
Whenwemeet—wedomeetoccasionally,whenwedineouttogether,orgodowntotheDuke’s—wetelleachotherthemostabsurdstorieswiththemostseriousfaces.
Mywifeisverygoodatit—muchbetter,infact,thanIam.
Shenevergetsconfusedoverherdates,andIalwaysdo.
Butwhenshedoesfindmeout,shemakesnorowatall.
Isometimeswishshewould;
butshemerely
lacht
laughs
atme.”
“Ihatethewayyoutalkaboutyourmarriedlife,Harry,”saidBasilHallward,strollingtowardsthedoorthatledintothegarden.
“Ibelievethatyouarereallyaverygoodhusband,butthatyouarethoroughlyashamedofyourownvirtues.
Youareanextraordinaryfellow.
Youneversayamoralthing,andyouneverdoawrongthing.
Yourcynicismis
einfach
simply
apose.”
“Beingnaturalis
einfach
simply
apose,andthemostirritatingposeIknow,”criedLordHenry,
lachend
laughing
;
andthetwoyoungmenwentoutintothegardentogetherandensconcedthemselvesonalongbambooseatthatstoodintheshadeofatalllaurelbush.
Thesunlightslippedoverthepolishedleaves.
Inthegrass,whitedaisiesweretremulous.
Afterapause,LordHenrypulledouthiswatch.
“IamafraidImustbegoing,Basil,”hemurmured,“andbeforeIgo,IinsistonyouransweringaquestionIputtoyousometimeago.”
“Whatisthat?”
saidthepainter,keepinghiseyesfixedonthe
boden
ground
.
“Youknowquitewell.”
“Idonot,Harry.”
“Well,Iwilltellyouwhatitis.
Iwantyouto
erklären
explain
tomewhyyouwon’texhibitDorianGray’s
bild
picture
.
Iwanttherealreason.”
“Itoldyoutherealreason.”
“No,youdidnot.
Yousaiditwasbecausetherewastoomuchofyourselfinit.
Now,thatischildish.”
“Harry,”saidBasilHallward,lookinghim
direkt
straight
intheface,“everyportraitthatispaintedwithfeelingisaportraitoftheartist,notofthesitter.
Thesitterismerelythe
unfall
accident
,theoccasion.
Itisnothewhoisrevealedbythepainter;
itis
vielmehr
rather
thepainterwho,onthecolouredcanvas,revealshimself.
ThereasonIwillnotexhibitthis
bild
picture
isthatIamafraidthatIhaveshowninitthe
geheimnis
secret
ofmyownsoul.”
LordHenry
lachte
laughed
.
“Andwhatisthat?”
heasked.
“Iwilltellyou,”saidHallward;
butanexpressionofperplexitycameoverhisface.
“Iamallexpectation,Basil,”continuedhiscompanion,glancingathim.
“Oh,thereisreallyverylittletotell,Harry,”answeredthepainter;
“andIamafraidyouwillhardlyunderstandit.
Perhapsyouwillhardlybelieveit.”
LordHenry
lächelte
smiled
,andleaningdown,pluckedapink-petalleddaisyfromthegrassandexaminedit.
“IamquitesureIshallunderstandit,”hereplied,gazingintentlyatthelittlegolden,white-feathereddisk,“andasforbelievingthings,Icanbelieveanything,providedthatitisquiteincredible.”
The
wind
wind
shooksomeblossomsfromthetrees,andtheheavylilac-blooms,withtheirclusteringstars,movedtoandfrointhelanguidair.
Agrasshopper
begann
began
tochirrupbythe
wand
wall
,andlikeabluethreadalongthindragon-flyfloatedpastonitsbrowngauzewings.
LordHenryfeltasifhecouldhearBasilHallward’sheartbeating,andwonderedwhatwascoming.
“Thestoryis
einfach
simply
this,”saidthepainteraftersometime.
“TwomonthsagoIwenttoacrushatLadyBrandon’s.
Youknowwepoorartistshavetoshowourselvesinsocietyfromtimetotime,justtoremindthepublicthatwearenotsavages.
Withaneveningcoatandawhitetie,asyoutoldmeonce,anybody,evenastock-broker,cangainareputationforbeingcivilized.
Well,afterIhadbeenintheroomabouttenminutes,talkingtohugeoverdresseddowagersandtediousacademicians,I
plötzlich
suddenly
becameconsciousthatsomeonewaslookingatme.
Iturnedhalf-wayroundandsawDorianGrayforthefirsttime.
Whenoureyesmet,IfeltthatIwasgrowingpale.
Acurioussensationofterrorcameoverme.
IknewthatIhadcomefacetofacewithsomeone
dessen
whose
merepersonalitywassofascinatingthat,ifIallowedittodoso,itwouldabsorbmywhole
natur
nature
,mywholesoul,myvery
kunst
art
itself.
Ididnotwantanyexternalinfluenceinmylife.
Youknowyourself,Harry,howindependentIamby
natur
nature
.
Ihavealwaysbeenmyownmaster;
hadatleastalwaysbeenso,tillImetDorianGray.
Then—butIdon’tknowhowto
erklären
explain
ittoyou.
Something
schien
seemed
totellmethatIwasonthevergeofaterriblecrisisinmylife.
Ihadastrangefeelingthatfatehadinstoreformeexquisitejoysandexquisitesorrows.
Igrewafraidandturnedto
verlassen
quit
theroom.
Itwasnotconsciencethatmademedoso:
itwasasortofcowardice.
Itakenocredittomyselffortryingtoescape.”
“Conscienceandcowardicearereallythesamethings,Basil.
Conscienceisthetrade-nameofthefirm.
Thatisall.”
“Idon’tbelievethat,Harry,andIdon’tbelieveyoudoeither.
However,whateverwasmymotive—anditmayhavebeenpride,forIusedtobeveryproud—I
sicherlich
certainly
struggledtothedoor.
There,ofcourse,IstumbledagainstLadyBrandon.
‘Youarenotgoingtorunawaysosoon,Mr.Hallward?’shescreamedout.
Youknowhercuriouslyshrillvoice?”
“Yes;
sheisapeacockineverythingbutbeauty,”saidLordHenry,pullingthedaisytobitswithhislongnervousfingers.
“Icouldnotgetridofher.
Shebroughtmeuptoroyalties,andpeoplewithstarsandgarters,andelderlyladieswithgigantictiarasandparrotnoses.
Shespokeofmeasherdearestfriend.
Ihadonlymetheroncebefore,butshetookitintoherheadtolionizeme.
Ibelievesome
bild
picture
ofminehadmadeagreatsuccessatthetime,atleasthadbeenchatteredaboutinthepennynewspapers,whichisthenineteenth-centurystandardofimmortality.
Plötzlich
Suddenly
Ifoundmyselffacetofacewiththeyoungman
dessen
whose
personalityhadsostrangelystirredme.