The Yorkshire Evening Post - Wednesday, April 10, 1895
This report was originally published in English. Machine translations may be available in other languages.
GOSSIP OF THE DAY.
CONCERNING OSCAR WILDE.
In Truth, Mr. Labouchere, writing about Oscar Wilde, says:—"I have known him, off and on, for years. Clever and witty he unquestionably is, but I have always regarded him as somewhat wrong in the head, for his craving after notoriety seemed to me a positive craze. There was nothing that he would not do to attract attention."
Writing about Oscar Wilde, Mr Labouchere says:—"I have known him, off and on, for years. Clever and witty he unquestionably is, but I have always regarded him as somewhat wrong in the head, for his craving after notoriety seemed to me a positive craze. There was nothing that he would not do to attract attention.
Writing about Oscar Wilde in "Truth," Mr Labouchere says — "I have known him, off and on, for years. Clever and witty he unquestionably is, but I have always regarded him as somewhat wrong in the head, for his craving after notoriety seemed to me a positive craze. There was nothing that he would not do to attract attention."
OSCAR IN NEW YORK.
"When Wilde went over to New York he went about dressed in a bottle-green coat with a waist up to his shoulders. When be entered a restaurant people threw things at him. When he drove in the evening to deliver his lectures the windows of his carriage were broken, until a policeman rode on each side of it. Far from objecting to ail this, it filled him with delighted complacency. 'Insult me, throw mud at me, but only look at me,' seemed to be his creed."
"When Wilde went over to New York he went about dressed in a bottle-green coat with a waist up to his shoulders. When he entered a restaurant people threw things at him. When he drove in the evening to deliver his lectures the windows of his carriage were broken, until a policeman rode on each side of it. Far from objecting to all this, it filled him with delighted complacency. ‘Insult me, throw mud at me, but only look at me,' seemed to be his creed."
"When Wilde went over to New York he went about dressed in a bottle-green coat with a waist up to his shoulders. When he entered a restaurant people threw things at him. When he drove in the evening to deliver his lectures the windows of his carriage were broken, until a policeman rode on each side of it. Far from objecting to all this, it filled him with delighted complacency. ‘Insult me, throw mad at me, but only look at me,' seemed to be his creed.
HIS PASSION FOR NOTORIETY.
So strange aud wondrous is Wilde's mind when in an abnormal condition, that it would not surprise me (continues Truth) if he were deriving a keen enjoyment from a position which most people, whether really innocent or guilty, would prefer to die rather than occupy. He must have known in what a glass-house he lived when he challenged investigation in a court of justice. After he had done this he went abroad. Why did he not stay, abroad? The possibilities of a prison may not be pleasing to him, but I believe that the notoriety that has overtaken him has such a charm for him, that it outweighs everything else.
"So strange and wondrous is Wilde’s mind when in an abnormal condition, that it would not surprise me (continues Mr Labouchere) if he were deriving a keen enjoyment from a position which most people, whether really innocent or guilty, would prefer to die rather than occupy. He must have known in what a glasshouse he lived when he challenged investigation in a court of justice. After he had done this he went abroad? Why did he not stay abroad? The possibilities of a prison may not be pleasing to him, but I believe that the notoriety that has overtaken him has such a charm for him that it outweighs everything else.
"So strange and wondrous is Wilde’s mind when in an abnormal condition, that it would not surprise me (continues Mr Labouchere) if he were deriving a keen enjoyment from a position which most people, whether really innocent or guilty, would prefer to die rather than occupy. He must have known in what a glasshouse he lived when he challenged investigation in a court of justice. After he had done this he went abroad? Way did he not stay abroad? The possibilities of a prison may not be pleasing to him, but I believe that the notoriety that has overtaken him has such a charm for him that it outweighs everything else."
WHY WILDE TOOK TO AESTHETICISM.
In the early days of the cult of aestheticism some one asked Oscar Wilde how a man of his undoubted capacity could make such a fool of himself. He gave this explanation. He had written, he said, a book of poems, and he believed in their excellence. In vain he went from publisher to publisher asking them to bring them out; not one would even read them, for he was unknown. In order to find a publisher he felt that he must do something to become a personality. So he hit upon aestheticism. It succeeded. People talked about him; they invited him to their houses as a sort of lion. He then took his poems to a publisher, who—still without reading them—gladly accepted them.
In the early days of the cult of aestheticism someone asked Oscar Wilde how a man of his undoubted capacity could make such a fool of himself. He gave this explanation. He had written, he said, a book of poems, and he believed in their excellence. In vain he went from publisher to publisher asking them to bring them out; not one would even read them, for he was unknown. In order to find a publisher he felt that he must do something to become a personality. So he hit upon aestheticism. It succeeded. People talked about him; they invited him to their houses as a sort of lion. He then took his poems to a publisher, who—still without reading them—gladly accepted them.
In the early days of the cult of aestheticism someone asked Oscar Wilde how a man of his undoubted capacity could make such a fool of himself. He gave this explanation. He had written, he said, a book of poems, and he believed in their excellence. In vain he went from publisher to publisher asking them to bling them out; not one would even read them, for he was known. In order to find a published he felt that he must do something to become a personality. So he hit upon aestheticism. It succeeded. People talked about him; they invited him to their houses as a sort of lion. He then took his poems to a published, who — still without reading them — gladly accepted them.
I remember, in the early days of the cult of aestheticism, hearing some one ask him how a man of his undoubted capacity could make such a fool of himself. He gave this explanation. He had written, he said, a book of poems, and he believed in their excellence. In vain he went from publisher to publisher asking them to bring them out; not one would even read them, for he was unknown. In order to find a publisher he felt that he must do something to become a personality. So he hit upon aestheticism. It succeeded. People talked about him; they invited him to their houses as a sort of lion. He then took his poems to a publisher, who—still without reading them—gladly accepted them.
I remember in the early days of the cult of aestheticism, hearing someone ask him how a man of his undoubted capacity could make such a fool of himself. He gave his explanation. He had written, he said, a book of poems, and he believed in their excellence. In vain he went from publisher to publisher asking them to bring them out; not one would even read them, for he was unknown. In order to find a publisher he felt that he must do something to become a personality. So he hit upon aestheticism. It succeeded. People talked about him; they invited him to their homes as a sort of lion. He then took his poems to a publisher, who—still without reading them—gladly accepted them.
In the early days of the cult of æstheticism, some one asked Oscar Wilde how a man of his undoubted capacity could make such a fool of himself. He had written, he said, a book of poems, and he believed in their excellence. In vain he went from publisher to publisher asking them to bring them them out; not one would even read them, for he was unknown. In order to find a publisher he felt that he must do something to become a personality. So he hit upon æstheticism. It succeeded. People talked about him; they invited him to their houses as a sort of lion. He then took his poems to a publisher, who — still without reading them — gladly accepted them.
An incident which Mr. Labouchere quotes, however, tends to show much method in Wilde's madness for notoriety. "I remember in the early days of the cult of æstheticism hearing some one ask him how a man of his undoubted capacity could make such a fool of himself. He gave this explanation: He had written, he said, a book of poems. In vain he went from publisher to publisher asking them to bring them out. Not one would even read them for he was unknown. In order to find a publisher he felt he must do something to become a personality. So he hit upon æstheticism. It succeeded. People talked about him and invited him to their houses as a sort of lion. He then took his poems to a publisher, who, still without reading them, gladly accepted them."
An incident which Mr. Labouchere quotes, however, tends to show much method in Wilde's madness for notoriety. "I remember in the early days of the cult of æstheticism hearing someone ask him how a man of his undoubted capacity could make such a fool of himself. He gave this explanation: He had written, he said, a book of poems. In vain he went from publisher to publisher asking them to bring them out. Not one would even read them for he was unknown. In order to find a publisher he felt he must do something to become a personality. So he hit upon æstheticism. It succeeded. People talked about him and invited him to their houses as a sort of lion. He then took his poems to a publisher who, still without reading them, gladly accepted them."
EPIGRAMS FOR THE WARDERS?
Oscar Wilde, according to the prison authorities, neither eats, drinks, nor sleeps. He is extremely talkative, and gives vent to load denunciations of the manner in which he has been treated, of the discomfort of his special room, and of the manner in which he is watched night and day. He has been deprived of knife and fork, and the extra precaution has been taken of removing all glass vessels and even the looking-glass, from his room. A considerable supply of reading matter has been forwarded to him.
Wilde, according to the prison authorities, neither eats, drinks, nor sleeps. He is extremely talkative, and given vent to loud denunciations of the manner in which he has been treated, of the discomfort of his special room, and of the manner in which he is watched night and day. He has been deprived of knife and fork, and the extra precaution has been taken of removing all glass vessels, and even the looking-glass from his room. Those who know only the Savoy Restaurant and Willis’s Rooms side of the man would hardly recognise the limp-looking creature in the exercise-yard of Holloway.
A POINT-BLANK REFUSAL.
It is understood that an application for bail-money made by a friend of Wilde's to a gentleman mixed up in one of his theatrical speculations was, on Friday night last, met by a point-blank refusal.
It is understood that an application for bail-money made by a friend of Wilde’s to a gentleman mixed up in one of his theatrical speculations was, on Friday night last, met by a point blank refusal.