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The Picture of Dorian Gray | Gradually Hardening Indonesian B2

The Picture of Dorian Gray | Gradually Hardening Indonesian B2

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
Theartististhecreatorofbeautifulthings.
To
mengungkapkan
revealartandconcealtheartistisart’saim.
The
kritikus
criticishewhocan
menerjemahkan
translateintoanothermanneroranewmaterialhis
kesan
impressionofbeautifulthings.
Thehighestasthe
terendah
lowestformofcriticismisa
mode
modeofautobiography.
Thosewhofinduglymeaningsinbeautifulthingsare
korup
corruptwithoutbeingcharming.
Thisisafault.
Thosewhofindbeautifulmeaningsinbeautifulthingsarethecultivated.
Forthesethereishope.
Theyaretheelecttowhombeautifulthingsmeanonlybeauty.
Thereisnosuchthingasa
moral
moraloranimmoralbook.
Booksarewellwritten,orbadlywritten.
Thatisall.
Thenineteenthcentury
ketidaksukaan
dislikeofrealismisthe
kemarahan
rageofCalibanseeinghisownfaceinaglass.
Thenineteenthcentury
ketidaksukaan
dislikeofromanticismisthe
kemarahan
rageofCalibannotseeinghisownfaceinaglass.
The
moral
morallifeofmanformspartofthesubject-matteroftheartist,butthe
moralitas
moralityofartconsistsintheperfectuseofanimperfect
media
medium.
Noartistdesirestoproveanything.
Eventhingsthataretruecanbeproved.
Noartisthas
etis
ethicalsympathies.
Anethicalsympathyinanartistisanunpardonablemannerismofstyle.
Noartistisevermorbid.
Theartistcanexpresseverything.
Thoughtandlanguagearetotheartistinstrumentsofanart.
Viceand
kebajikan
virtuearetotheartistmaterialsforanart.
Fromthepointofviewofform,thetypeofalltheartsistheartofthe
musisi
musician.
Fromthepointofviewoffeeling,theactor’s
kerajinan
craftisthetype.
Allartisatoncesurfaceand
simbol
symbol.
Thosewhogobeneaththesurfacedosoattheirperil.
Thosewhoreadthe
simbol
symboldosoattheirperil.
Itisthe
penonton
spectator,andnotlife,thatartreallymirrors.
Keanekaragaman
Diversityofopinionaboutaworkofartshowsthattheworkisnew,
kompleks
complex,andvital.
Whencritics
setuju
disagree,theartistisinaccordwithhimself.
Wecanforgiveamanformakingausefulthingaslongashedoesnot
mengagumi
admireit.
Theonlyexcuseformakingauselessthingisthatoneadmiresit
intens
intensely.
Allartisquiteuseless.
Bab
CHAPTERI.
Thestudiowasfilledwiththerichodourofroses,andwhenthelightsummerwindstirredamidstthetreesofthegarden,therecamethroughtheopendoortheheavy
aroma
scentofthelilac,orthemore
halus
delicateperfumeofthepink-flowering
duri
thorn.
FromthecornerofthedivanofPersiansaddle-bagsonwhichhewaslying,smoking,aswashis
kebiasaan
custom,innumerablecigarettes,LordHenryWottoncouldjustcatchthegleamofthehoney-sweetandhoney-colouredblossomsofalaburnum,whosetremulousbranchesseemedhardlyabletobearthe
beban
burdenofabeautysoflamelikeastheirs;
andnowandthenthefantasticshadowsofbirdsinflightflittedacrossthelongtussore-silkcurtainsthatwerestretchedinfrontofthehugewindow,
menghasilkan
producingakindofmomentaryJapaneseeffect,andmakinghimthinkofthosepallid,jade-facedpaintersofTokyowho,throughthe
media
mediumofanartthatis
tentu
necessarilyimmobile,seektoconveythesenseofswiftnessand
bergerak
motion.
Thesullenmurmurofthebeesshoulderingtheirwaythroughthelongunmowngrass,orcirclingwithmonotonousinsistenceroundthe
berdebu
dustygilthornsofthestragglingwoodbine,seemedtomakethestillnessmore
menindas
oppressive.
ThedimroarofLondonwaslikethebourdonnoteofa
jauh
distantorgan.
Inthecentreoftheroom,clampedtoan
tegak
uprighteasel,stoodthefull-length
potret
portraitofayoungmanofextraordinarypersonalbeauty,andinfrontofit,somelittledistanceaway,wassittingtheartisthimself,
Basil
BasilHallward,whosesuddendisappearancesomeyearsagocaused,atthetime,suchpublic
kegembiraan
excitementandgaverisetosomanystrangeconjectures.
Asthe
pelukis
painterlookedatthegraciousandcomelyformhehadsoskilfullymirroredinhisart,asmileofpleasurepassedacrosshisface,andseemedabouttolingerthere.
Buthesuddenlystartedup,andclosinghiseyes,placedhisfingersuponthelids,asthoughhesoughttoimprisonwithinhisbrainsomecuriousdreamfromwhichhefearedhemightawake.
“Itisyourbestwork,
Basil
Basil,thebestthingyouhaveeverdone,”saidLordHenrylanguidly.
“YoumustcertainlysenditnextyeartotheGrosvenor.
The
Akademi
Academyistoolargeandtoo
vulgar
vulgar.
WheneverIhavegonethere,therehavebeeneithersomanypeoplethatIhavenotbeenabletoseethepictures,whichwas
mengerikan
dreadful,orsomanypicturesthatIhavenotbeenabletoseethepeople,whichwasworse.
TheGrosvenorisreallytheonlyplace.”
“Idon’tthinkIshallsenditanywhere,”heanswered,
melemparkan
tossinghisheadbackinthatoddwaythatusedtomakehisfriendslaughathimatOxford.
“No,Iwon’tsenditanywhere.”
LordHenryelevatedhiseyebrowsandlookedathiminamazementthroughthethinbluewreathsofsmokethatcurledupinsuchfancifulwhorlsfromhisheavy,opium-taintedcigarette.
“Notsenditanywhere?
Mydearfellow,why?
Haveyouanyreason?
Whatoddchapsyoupaintersare!
Youdoanythingintheworldto
mendapatkan
gainareputation.
Assoonasyouhaveone,youseemtowanttothrowitaway.
Itissillyofyou,forthereisonlyonethingintheworldworsethanbeingtalkedabout,andthatisnotbeingtalkedabout.
A
potret
portraitlikethiswouldsetyoufarabovealltheyoungmeninEngland,andmaketheoldmenquitejealous,ifoldmenareevercapableofanyemotion.”
“Iknowyouwilllaughatme,”hereplied,“butIreallycan’texhibitit.
Ihaveputtoomuchofmyselfintoit.”
LordHenry
meregangkan
stretchedhimselfoutonthedivanandlaughed.
“Yes,Iknewyouwould;
butitisquitetrue,allthesame.”
“Toomuchofyourselfinit!
Uponmyword,
Basil
Basil,Ididn’tknowyouweresovain;
andIreallycan’tseeany
kemiripan
resemblancebetweenyou,withyour
kasar
ruggedstrongfaceandyourcoal-blackhair,andthisyoungAdonis,wholooksasifhewasmadeoutof
gading
ivoryandrose-leaves.
Why,mydear
Basil
Basil,heisaNarcissus,andyou—well,ofcourseyouhavean
intelektual
intellectualexpressionandallthat.
Butbeauty,realbeauty,endswherean
intelektual
intellectualexpressionbegins.
Intellectisinitselfamodeofexaggeration,anddestroysthe
harmoni
harmonyofanyface.
Themomentonesitsdowntothink,onebecomesallnose,orall
dahi
forehead,orsomethinghorrid.
Lookatthesuccessfulmeninanyofthelearnedprofessions.
Howperfectlyhideoustheyare!
Except,ofcourse,intheChurch.
ButthenintheChurchtheydon’tthink.
A
uskup
bishopkeepsonsayingattheageofeightywhathewastoldtosaywhenhewasaboyofeighteen,andasanatural
konsekuensi
consequencehealwayslooksabsolutely
menyenangkan
delightful.
Yourmysteriousyoungfriend,whosenameyouhavenevertoldme,butwhosepicturereallyfascinatesme,neverthinks.
Ifeelquitesureofthat.
Heissomebrainlessbeautifulcreaturewhoshouldbealwayshereinwinterwhenwehavenoflowerstolookat,andalwayshereinsummerwhenwewantsomethingtochillourintelligence.
Don’tflatteryourself,
Basil
Basil:
youarenotintheleastlikehim.”
“Youdon’tunderstandme,Harry,”answeredtheartist.
“OfcourseIamnotlikehim.
Iknowthatperfectlywell.
Indeed,Ishouldbesorrytolooklikehim.
Youshrugyourshoulders?
Iamtellingyouthetruth.
Thereisafatalityaboutallphysicaland
intelektual
intellectualdistinction,thesortoffatalitythatseemstodogthroughhistorythefalteringstepsofkings.
Itisbetternottobedifferentfromone’sfellows.
Theuglyandthestupidhavethebestofitinthisworld.
Theycansitattheireaseandgapeattheplay.
Iftheyknownothingofvictory,theyareatleastsparedtheknowledgeofdefeat.
Theyliveasweallshouldlive—undisturbed,indifferent,andwithoutdisquiet.
Theyneitherbringruinuponothers,noreverreceiveitfromalienhands.
Your
pangkat
rankandwealth,Harry;
mybrains,suchastheyare—myart,whateveritmaybeworth;
DorianGray’sgoodlooks—weshallallsufferforwhatthegodshavegivenus,sufferterribly.”
“DorianGray?
Isthathisname?”
askedLordHenry,walkingacrossthestudiotowards
Basil
BasilHallward.
“Yes,thatishisname.
Ididn’t
bermaksud
intendtotellittoyou.”
“Butwhynot?”
“Oh,Ican’texplain.
WhenIlikepeople
sangat
immensely,Inevertelltheirnamestoanyone.
Itislikesurrenderingapartofthem.
Ihavegrowntolove
kerahasiaan
secrecy.
Itseemstobetheonethingthatcanmakemodernlife
misterius
mysteriousormarvelloustous.
Thecommonestthingis
menyenangkan
delightfulifoneonlyhidesit.
WhenIleavetownnowInevertellmypeoplewhereIamgoing.
IfIdid,Iwouldloseallmypleasure.
Itisasilly
kebiasaan
habit,Idaresay,butsomehowitseemstobringagreatdealofromanceintoone’slife.
Isupposeyouthinkme
sangat
awfullyfoolishaboutit?”
“Notatall,”answeredLordHenry,“notatall,mydear
Basil
Basil.
YouseemtoforgetthatIammarried,andtheone
pesona
charmofmarriageisthatitmakesalifeof
penipuan
deceptionabsolutelynecessaryforbothparties.
Ineverknowwheremywifeis,andmywifeneverknowswhatIamdoing.
Whenwemeet—wedomeet
sesekali
occasionally,whenwedineouttogether,orgodowntotheDuke’s—wetelleachotherthemost
absurd
absurdstorieswiththemostseriousfaces.
Mywifeisverygoodatit—muchbetter,infact,thanIam.
Shenevergetsconfusedoverherdates,andIalwaysdo.
Butwhenshedoesfindmeout,shemakesnorowatall.
Isometimeswishshewould;
butshe
hanya
merelylaughsatme.”
“Ihatethewayyoutalkaboutyourmarriedlife,Harry,”said
Basil
BasilHallward,strollingtowardsthedoorthatledintothegarden.
“Ibelievethatyouarereallyaverygoodhusband,butthatyouare
benar
thoroughlyashamedofyourownvirtues.
Youareanextraordinaryfellow.
Youneversaya
moral
moralthing,andyouneverdoawrongthing.
Yourcynicismissimplyapose.”
“Beingnaturalissimplyapose,andthemostirritatingposeIknow,”criedLordHenry,laughing;
andthetwoyoungmenwentoutintothegardentogetherandensconcedthemselvesonalong
bambu
bambooseatthatstoodinthe
naungan
shadeofatalllaurelbush.
The
sinar matahari
sunlightslippedoverthepolishedleaves.
Inthegrass,whitedaisiesweretremulous.
Afterapause,LordHenrypulledouthiswatch.
“IamafraidImustbegoing,Basil,”hemurmured,“andbeforeIgo,I
bersikeras
insistonyouransweringaquestionIputtoyousometimeago.”
“Whatisthat?”
saidthe
pelukis
painter,keepinghiseyesfixedontheground.
“Youknowquitewell.”
“Idonot,Harry.”
“Well,Iwilltellyouwhatitis.
Iwantyoutoexplaintomewhyyouwon’texhibitDorianGray’spicture.
Iwanttherealreason.”
“Itoldyoutherealreason.”
“No,youdidnot.
Yousaiditwasbecausetherewastoomuchofyourselfinit.
Now,thatischildish.”
“Harry,”said
Basil
BasilHallward,lookinghimstraightintheface,“every
potret
portraitthatispaintedwithfeelingisa
potret
portraitoftheartist,notofthesitter.
Thesitterismerelytheaccident,the
kesempatan
occasion.
Itisnothewhoisrevealedbythe
pelukis
painter;
itisratherthe
pelukis
painterwho,onthecoloured
kanvas
canvas,revealshimself.
ThereasonIwillnot
menunjukkan
exhibitthispictureisthatIamafraidthatIhaveshowninitthesecretofmyownsoul.”
LordHenrylaughed.
“Andwhatisthat?”
heasked.
“Iwilltellyou,”saidHallward;
butan
ekspresi
expressionofperplexitycameoverhisface.
“Iamall
ekspektasi
expectation,Basil,”continuedhiscompanion,glancingathim.
“Oh,thereisreallyverylittletotell,Harry,”answeredthe
pelukis
painter;
“andIamafraidyouwillhardlyunderstandit.
Perhapsyouwillhardlybelieveit.”
LordHenrysmiled,andleaningdown,
memetik
pluckedapink-petalleddaisyfromthegrassandexaminedit.
“IamquitesureIshallunderstandit,”hereplied,gazingintentlyatthelittlegolden,white-feathereddisk,“andasforbelievingthings,Icanbelieveanything,providedthatitisquiteincredible.”
Thewindshooksomeblossomsfromthetrees,andtheheavylilac-blooms,withtheirclusteringstars,movedtoandfrointhelanguidair.
Agrasshopperbegantochirrupbythewall,andlikeablue
benang
threadalongthindragon-flyfloatedpastonitsbrowngauzewings.
LordHenryfeltasifhecouldhear
Basil
BasilHallward’sheartbeating,andwonderedwhatwascoming.
“Thestoryissimplythis,”saidthe
pelukis
painteraftersometime.
“TwomonthsagoIwenttoacrushatLadyBrandon’s.
Youknowwepoorartistshavetoshowourselvesinsocietyfromtimetotime,justtoremindthepublicthatwearenotsavages.
Withaneveningcoatandawhitetie,asyoutoldmeonce,anybody,evenastock-broker,can
mendapatkan
gainareputationforbeing
beradab
civilized.
Well,afterIhadbeenintheroomabouttenminutes,talkingtohugeoverdresseddowagersand
membosankan
tediousacademicians,Isuddenlybecame
sadar
consciousthatsomeonewaslookingatme.
Iturned
setengah
half-wayroundandsawDorianGrayforthefirsttime.
Whenoureyesmet,IfeltthatIwasgrowing
pucat
pale.
Acurioussensationofterrorcameoverme.
IknewthatIhadcomefacetofacewithsomeonewhosemerepersonalitywasso
menarik
fascinatingthat,ifIallowedittodoso,itwould
menyerap
absorbmywholenature,mywholesoul,myveryartitself.
Ididnotwantany
eksternal
externalinfluenceinmylife.
Youknowyourself,Harry,how
mandiri
independentIambynature.
Ihavealwaysbeenmyownmaster;
hadatleastalwaysbeenso,tillImetDorianGray.
Then—butIdon’tknowhowtoexplainittoyou.
SomethingseemedtotellmethatIwasonthe
ambang
vergeofaterriblecrisisinmylife.
Ihadastrangefeelingthatfatehadinstoreformeexquisitejoysandexquisitesorrows.
Igrewafraidandturnedtoquittheroom.
Itwasnotconsciencethatmademedoso:
itwasasortof
pengecut
cowardice.
Itakenocredittomyselffortryingtoescape.”
“Conscienceand
pengecut
cowardicearereallythesamethings,
Basil
Basil.
Conscienceisthetrade-nameofthefirm.
Thatisall.”
“Idon’tbelievethat,Harry,andIdon’tbelieveyoudoeither.
However,whateverwasmymotive—anditmayhavebeenpride,forIusedtobeveryproud—Icertainlystruggledtothedoor.
There,ofcourse,IstumbledagainstLady
Brandon
Brandon.
‘Youarenotgoingtorunawaysosoon,Mr.Hallward?’shescreamedout.
Youknowhercuriouslyshrillvoice?”
“Yes;
sheisa
merak
peacockineverythingbutbeauty,”saidLordHenry,pullingthe
daisy
daisytobitswithhislongnervousfingers.
“Icouldnotgetridofher.
Shebroughtmeuptoroyalties,andpeoplewithstarsandgarters,andelderlyladieswithgigantictiarasandparrotnoses.
Shespokeofmeasherdearestfriend.
Ihadonlymetheroncebefore,butshetookitintoherheadtolionizeme.
Ibelievesomepictureofminehadmadeagreatsuccessatthetime,atleasthadbeenchatteredaboutinthepennynewspapers,whichisthenineteenth-century
standar
standardofimmortality.
SuddenlyIfoundmyselffacetofacewiththeyoungmanwhosepersonalityhadso
aneh
strangelystirredme.