THEPREFACE
Theartististhecreatorofbeautifulthings.
Torevealart
и
andconcealtheartistisart’saim.Thecriticishe
кто
whocantranslateintoanothermannerили
oranewmaterialhisimpressionofbeautifulthings.Thehighestasthelowestformofcriticismisamodeofautobiography.
Те
Thosewhofinduglymeaningsinbeautifulthingsarecorruptwithoutbeingcharming.Это
Thisisafault.Those
кто
whofindbeautifulmeaningsinкрасивые
beautifulthingsarethecultivated.Forthese
есть
thereishope.Theyaretheelecttowhom
красивые
beautifulthingsmeanonlybeauty.Thereis
не
nosuchthingasamoralили
oranimmoralbook.Booksare
хорошо
wellwritten,orbadlywritten.Thatis
все
all.ThenineteenthcenturydislikeofrealismistherageofCalibanseeinghisownfaceinaglass.
ThenineteenthcenturydislikeofromanticismistherageofCalibannotseeinghisownfaceinaglass.
Themoral
жизнь
lifeofmanformspartofthesubject-matteroftheartist,но
butthemoralityofartconsistsintheperfectuseofanimperfectmedium.Не
Noartistdesirestoproveничего
anything.Eventhingsthataretrue
может
canbeproved.Noartisthasethicalsympathies.
Anethicalsympathyinanartistisanunpardonablemannerismofstyle.
Не
Noartistisevermorbid.Theartist
может
canexpresseverything.Thoughtandlanguagearetotheartistinstrumentsofanart.
Vice
и
andvirtuearetotheartistmaterialsforanart.Fromthe
точки
pointofviewofform,thetypeofalltheartsistheartofthemusician.Fromthe
точки
pointofviewoffeeling,theactor’scraftisthetype.Все
Allartisatoncesurfaceи
andsymbol.Thosewhogobeneaththesurfacedosoattheirperil.
Те
Thosewhoreadthesymboldosoattheirperil.Itisthespectator,andnot
жизнь
life,thatartreallymirrors.Diversityofopinion
о
aboutaworkofartshowsчто
thattheworkisnew,complex,и
andvital.Whencriticsdisagree,theartistisinaccord
с
withhimself.Wecanforgiveamanformakingauseful
вещь
thingaslongashedoesnotadmireit.Theonly
оправдание
excuseformakingauselessthingisthatoneadmiresitintensely.Все
Allartisquiteuseless.CHAPTERI.
Thestudiowasfilledwiththerichodourofroses,
и
andwhenthelightsummerwindstirredamidstthetreesofthegarden,therecameчерез
throughtheopendoortheheavyscentofthelilac,или
orthemoredelicateperfumeofthepink-floweringthorn.FromthecornerofthedivanofPersiansaddle-bagsonwhichhewaslying,smoking,aswashiscustom,innumerablecigarettes,
Лорд
LordHenryWottoncouldjustcatchthegleamofthehoney-sweetи
andhoney-colouredblossomsofalaburnum,whosetremulousbranchesseemedhardlyabletobeartheburdenofabeautysoflamelikeastheirs;и
andnowandthenthefantasticshadowsofbirdsinflightflittedacrossthelongtussore-silkcurtainsthatwerestretchedinперед
frontofthehugewindow,producingakindofmomentaryJapaneseeffect,и
andmakinghimthinkofтех
thosepallid,jade-facedpaintersofTokyowho,throughthemediumofanartthatisnecessarilyimmobile,seektoconveythesenseofswiftnessи
andmotion.Thesullenmurmurofthebeesshoulderingtheirwaythroughthelongunmowngrass,
или
orcirclingwithmonotonousinsistenceroundthedustygilthornsofthestragglingwoodbine,seemedtomakethestillnessболее
moreoppressive.ThedimroarofLondonwas
как
likethebourdonnoteofadistantorgan.Inthecentreoftheroom,clampedtoanuprighteasel,stoodthefull-lengthportraitofayoungmanofextraordinarypersonalbeauty,
и
andinfrontofit,несколько
somelittledistanceaway,wassittingtheartisthimself,BasilHallward,whosesuddendisappearanceнесколько
someyearsagocaused,attheвремя
time,suchpublicexcitementandgaverisetosomanystrangeconjectures.Asthepainterlookedatthegracious
и
andcomelyformhehadsoskilfullymirroredinhisart,asmileofpleasurepassedacrosshisface,и
andseemedabouttolingerтам
there.Buthesuddenlystartedup,
и
andclosinghiseyes,placedhisfingersuponthelids,asthoughhesoughttoimprisonwithinhisbrainнекоторые
somecuriousdreamfromwhichhefearedhemightawake.“Itisyourbest
работа
work,Basil,thebestthingyouhaveeverdone,”saidЛорд
LordHenrylanguidly.“Youmustcertainly
отправить
senditnextyeartotheGrosvenor.TheAcademyis
слишком
toolargeandtoovulgar.WheneverIhavegonethere,therehavebeen
либо
eithersomanypeoplethatIhavenotbeenabletoвидеть
seethepictures,whichwasdreadful,orsoмного
manypicturesthatIhavenotbeenabletoвидеть
seethepeople,whichwasworse.TheGrosvenorisreallytheonlyplace.”
“Idon’t
думаю
thinkIshallsenditanywhere,”heanswered,tossinghisголову
headbackinthatoddwayчто
thatusedtomakehisfriendslaughathimatOxford.“No,Iwon’tsenditanywhere.”
Лорд
LordHenryelevatedhiseyebrowsи
andlookedathiminamazementчерез
throughthethinbluewreathsofsmokethatcurledupinsuchfancifulwhorlsfromhisheavy,opium-taintedcigarette.“Notsenditanywhere?
My
дорогой
dearfellow,why?Haveyouanyreason?
Whatoddchapsyoupaintersare!
Youdo
все
anythingintheworldtogainareputation.As
только
soonasyouhaveone,youseemtowanttothrowitaway.Itissillyofyou,for
есть
thereisonlyonethingintheмире
worldworsethanbeingtalkedо
about,andthatisnotbeingtalkedо
about.AportraitlikethiswouldsetyoufarabovealltheyoungmeninEngland,
и
andmaketheoldmenquitejealous,если
ifoldmenareevercapableofanyemotion.”“I
знаю
knowyouwilllaughatme,”hereplied,“butIдействительно
reallycan’texhibitit.Ihaveput
слишком
toomuchofmyselfintoit.”Лорд
LordHenrystretchedhimselfoutonthedivanи
andlaughed.“Yes,Iknewyouwould;
но
butitisquitetrue,все
allthesame.”“Toomuchofyourselfinit!
Uponmyword,Basil,Ididn’tknowyouweresovain;
и
andIreallycan’tseeanyresemblanceмежду
betweenyou,withyourruggedstrongfaceи
andyourcoal-blackhair,andthisyoungAdonis,который
wholooksasifhewasmadeoutofivoryи
androse-leaves.Why,mydearBasil,heisaNarcissus,
и
andyou—well,ofcourseyouhaveanintellectualexpressionи
andallthat.Butbeauty,realbeauty,ends
где
whereanintellectualexpressionbegins.Intellectisinitselfamodeofexaggeration,
и
anddestroystheharmonyofanyface.Themomentonesitsdownto
думать
think,onebecomesallnose,или
orallforehead,orsomethinghorrid.Посмотрите
Lookatthesuccessfulmeninлюбой
anyofthelearnedprofessions.Как
Howperfectlyhideoustheyare!Except,of
конечно
course,intheChurch.ButthenintheChurchtheydon’tthink.
Abishopkeepsonsayingattheageofeightywhathewastoldtosay
когда
whenhewasaboyofeighteen,и
andasanaturalconsequenceheвсегда
alwayslooksabsolutelydelightful.Yourmysterious
молодой
youngfriend,whosenameyouhavenevertoldменя
me,butwhosepicturereallyfascinatesменя
me,neverthinks.Ifeelquite
уверен
sureofthat.Heissomebrainlessbeautifulcreature
которые
whoshouldbealwayshereinwinterкогда
whenwehavenoflowerstoсмотреть
lookat,andalwayshereinsummerкогда
whenwewantsomethingtochillourintelligence.Don’tflatteryourself,Basil:
youarenotintheleastlikehim.”
“Youdon’tunderstand
меня
me,Harry,”answeredtheartist.“Of
конечно
courseIamnotlikehim.I
знаю
knowthatperfectlywell.Indeed,Ishouldbesorrytolook
как
likehim.Youshrugyourshoulders?
Iamtellingyouthetruth.
Thereisafatalityaboutallphysical
и
andintellectualdistinction,thesortoffatalitythatseemstodogthroughhistorythefalteringstepsofkings.Itis
лучше
betternottobedifferentfromone’sfellows.Theugly
и
andthestupidhavethebestofitinthisмире
world.Theycansitattheirease
и
andgapeattheplay.Если
Iftheyknownothingofvictory,theyareatкрайней мере
leastsparedtheknowledgeofdefeat.Theyliveaswe
все
allshouldlive—undisturbed,indifferent,andwithoutdisquiet.Theyneitherbringruinuponothers,noreverreceiveitfromalienhands.
Yourrank
и
andwealth,Harry;mybrains,
такой
suchastheyare—myart,whateveritmaybeworth;DorianGray’sgoodlooks—weshall
все
allsufferforwhatthegodshavegivenнам
us,sufferterribly.”“DorianGray?
Is
это
thathisname?”askedLordHenry,walkingacrossthestudiotowardsBasilHallward.
“Yes,thatishisname.
Ididn’tintendtotellittoyou.”
“But
почему
whynot?”“Oh,Ican’texplain.
Когда
WhenIlikepeopleimmensely,Inevertelltheirnamestoanyone.Itis
как
likesurrenderingapartofthem.Ihavegrownto
любить
lovesecrecy.Itseemstobetheone
вещь
thingthatcanmakemodernжизнь
lifemysteriousormarvelloustoнас
us.Thecommonestthingisdelightful
если
ifoneonlyhidesit.Когда
WhenIleavetownnowInevertellmypeoplewhereIamgoing.Если
IfIdid,Iwouldloseвсе
allmypleasure.Itisasillyhabit,Idare
сказать
say,butsomehowitseemstobringagreatdealofromanceintoone’sжизнь
life.Isupposeyouthinkmeawfullyfoolishaboutit?”
“Notatall,”answered
Лорд
LordHenry,“notatall,myдорогой
dearBasil.Youseemtoforget
что
thatIammarried,andtheonecharmofmarriageisчто
thatitmakesalifeofdeceptionabsolutelynecessaryforbothparties.Inever
знаю
knowwheremywifeis,и
andmywifeneverknowswhatIamdoing.Когда
Whenwemeet—wedomeetoccasionally,когда
whenwedineouttogether,или
orgodowntotheDuke’s—wetellдруг
eachotherthemostabsurdstoriesс
withthemostseriousfaces.My
жена
wifeisverygoodatit—muchлучше
better,infact,thanIam.Shenevergetsconfusedoverherdates,andI
всегда
alwaysdo.Butwhenshedoesfindmeout,shemakes
не
norowatall.I
иногда
sometimeswishshewould;butshemerelylaughsatme.”
“I
ненавижу
hatethewayyoutalkо
aboutyourmarriedlife,Harry,”saidBasilHallward,strollingtowardsв
thedoorthatledintoв
thegarden.“Ibelievethatyouare
действительно
reallyaverygoodhusband,но
butthatyouarethoroughlyashamedofyourownvirtues.Youareanextraordinaryfellow.
Youneversayamoralthing,
и
andyouneverdoawrongthing.Yourcynicismissimplyapose.”
“Beingnaturalissimplyapose,
и
andthemostirritatingposeIknow,”criedЛорд
LordHenry,laughing;andthetwoyoungmenwentoutintothegarden
вместе
togetherandensconcedthemselvesonalongbambooseatthatstoodintheshadeofatalllaurelbush.Thesunlightslipped
над
overthepolishedleaves.Inthegrass,whitedaisiesweretremulous.
После
Afterapause,LordHenrypulledouthisчасы
watch.“IamafraidI
должен
mustbegoing,Basil,”hemurmured,“andпрежде чем
beforeIgo,Iinsistonyouransweringaвопрос
questionIputtoyousomeвремя
timeago.”“Whatisthat?”
saidthepainter,keepinghiseyesfixedontheground.
“Youknow
довольно
quitewell.”“Idonot,Harry.”
“Well,Iwilltellyouwhatitis.
I
хочу
wantyoutoexplaintomeпочему
whyyouwon’texhibitDorianGray’spicture.I
хочу
wanttherealreason.”“Itoldyoutherealreason.”
“No,youdidnot.
Yousaiditwas
потому что
becausetherewastoomuchofyourselfinэто
it.Now,thatischildish.”
“Harry,”saidBasilHallward,lookinghimstraightintheface,“everyportrait
это
thatispaintedwithfeelingisaportraitoftheartist,notofthesitter.Thesitterismerelytheaccident,theoccasion.
Itisnothewhoisrevealedbythepainter;
itisratherthepainter
который
who,onthecolouredcanvas,revealshimself.The
причина
reasonIwillnotexhibitэту
thispictureisthatIamбоюсь
afraidthatIhaveshowninitthesecretofmyownsoul.”Лорд
LordHenrylaughed.“Andwhatisthat?”
heasked.
“Iwilltellyou,”saidHallward;
но
butanexpressionofperplexitycameoverhisface.“Iam
все
allexpectation,Basil,”continuedhiscompanion,glancingathim.“Oh,
есть
thereisreallyverylittletoсказать
tell,Harry,”answeredthepainter;“andIam
боюсь
afraidyouwillhardlyunderstandэто
it.Perhapsyouwillhardlybelieveit.”
Лорд
LordHenrysmiled,andleaningdown,pluckedapink-petalleddaisyfromthegrassи
andexaminedit.“Iamquite
уверен
sureIshallunderstandit,”hereplied,gazingintentlyatthelittlegolden,white-feathereddisk,“andasforbelievingthings,Icanbelieveвсе
anything,providedthatitisquiteincredible.”Thewindshook
некоторые
someblossomsfromthetrees,и
andtheheavylilac-blooms,withtheirclusteringstars,movedtoи
andfrointhelanguidair.Agrasshopperbegantochirrupbythewall,
и
andlikeabluethreadalongthindragon-flyfloatedмимо
pastonitsbrowngauzewings.Лорд
LordHenryfeltasifhecouldhearBasilHallward’sheartbeating,и
andwonderedwhatwascoming.“Thestoryissimplythis,”saidthepainteraftersome
время
time.“TwomonthsagoIwenttoacrushat
Леди
LadyBrandon’s.Youknowwe
бедные
poorartistshavetoshowourselvesinsocietyfromвремя
timetotime,justtoremindthepublicчто
thatwearenotsavages.С
Withaneveningcoatandawhitetie,asyoutoldmeоднажды
once,anybody,evenastock-broker,может
cangainareputationforbeingcivilized.Ну
Well,afterIhadbeenintheroomabouttenminutes,talkingtohugeoverdresseddowagersи
andtediousacademicians,Isuddenlybecameconsciousчто
thatsomeonewaslookingatменя
me.Iturnedhalf-wayround
и
andsawDorianGrayfortheвпервые
firsttime.Whenoureyesmet,Ifelt
что
thatIwasgrowingpale.Acurioussensationofterrorcameover
меня
me.IknewthatIhadcomefacetoface
с
withsomeonewhosemerepersonalitywassofascinatingthat,если
ifIallowedittoсделать
doso,itwouldabsorbmyвсю
wholenature,mywholesoul,myveryartitself.Ididnotwantanyexternalinfluenceinmy
жизни
life.Youknowyourself,Harry,howindependentIambynature.
Ihave
всегда
alwaysbeenmyownmaster;hadat
крайней мере
leastalwaysbeenso,tillImetDorianGray.Then—butIdon’t
знаю
knowhowtoexplainittoyou.То
Somethingseemedtotellmeчто
thatIwasonthevergeofaterriblecrisisinmyжизни
life.Ihadastrangefeeling
что
thatfatehadinstoreformeexquisitejoysи
andexquisitesorrows.Igrewafraid
и
andturnedtoquittheroom.Itwasnotconsciencethatmademe
сделать
doso:itwasa
рода
sortofcowardice.Itake
не
nocredittomyselffortryingtoescape.”“Conscience
и
andcowardicearereallytheже
samethings,Basil.Conscienceisthetrade-nameofthefirm.
Thatisall.”
“Idon’t
верю
believethat,Harry,andIdon’tверю
believeyoudoeither.However,
что
whateverwasmymotive—anditmayhavebeenpride,forIраньше
usedtobeveryproud—Icertainlystruggledtothedoor.Там
There,ofcourse,IstumbledagainstЛеди
LadyBrandon.‘Youarenotgoingtorunawayso
скоро
soon,Mr.Hallward?’shescreamedout.Youknowhercuriouslyshrillvoice?”
“Yes;
sheisapeacockineverythingbutbeauty,”said
Лорд
LordHenry,pullingthedaisytobitswithhislongnervousfingers.“Icouldnotgetridof
нее
her.Shebroughtmeuptoroyalties,
и
andpeoplewithstarsandgarters,и
andelderlyladieswithgigantictiarasи
andparrotnoses.Shespokeofmeasherdearestfriend.
Ihad
только
onlymetheroncebefore,но
butshetookitintoherголову
headtolionizeme.I
верю
believesomepictureofminehadmadeaбольшой
greatsuccessatthetime,atкрайней мере
leasthadbeenchatteredaboutinthepennynewspapers,что
whichisthenineteenth-centurystandardofimmortality.SuddenlyIfoundmyselffacetoface
с
withtheyoungmanwhosepersonalityhadsostrangelystirredменя
me.