Daily World - Tuesday, April 16, 1895
This report was originally published in English. Machine translations may be available in other languages.
WILDE'S STRANGE CAREER
Oscar Wilde first achieved notoriety as a prostrate apostle and then as the leader of the then infantile aesthetic craze. He carried his aesthetic peculiarities so far that he became the subject of Du Maurier's caricaturing pencil and Gilbert's satirizing fun. That may have been what he was trying for. Neither the caricaturist nor the satirist diminished the ardor with which Wilde pursued what was vaguely called aestheticism. The Bunthornes of Patience made up in exact imitation of Wilde, and he posed in lobbies of the same theatres and composed phrases which outdid, in lily like languor, the phrases that Gilbert had thought to be satires. Up to 15 years ago Wilde had done little to attract attention to himself. He was known to be the son of exceptionally clever parents and winner of the Newdigate at Oxford, but besides cleverly advertising himself, and writing a few verses, he had done no clever original work, and was not seriously considered. His reputation as lecturer, man of fashion, wit, poet, novelist, essayist, playwright, has been made in most particulars, in the last half dozen years, all since his leturing tour in this country. He came to America about 12 years ago, frankly advertised as a freak lecturing on "aestheticism." He wore knee breeches , silk hose, lace cuffs and was otherwise variously freakish in his dress. At Boston a half hundred Harvard boys marched into the lecture hall dressed as he was, each carrying a lily. Wilde's noted imperturbability did not desert him. He merely lisped. "How tenderly droll!" and went on with his lecture.
In a western city he was the guest of a club, among whose members were a number of stout drinkers. They undertook to "tank up the aesthete" as they expressed it. The process was Iong. As the sun was breaking into the club windows, Wilde looked about over a room strewn with fallen braves, and said to the one man still able to comprehend speech: "We've had a charmingly quiet little evening. Don't you feel like a bit of a run about town before breakfast?"
In a Western city he was the guest of a club, among whose members were a number of stout drinkers. They undertook to "tank up the aesthete," as they expressed it. The process was long. As the sun was breaking into the club windows, Wilde looked about the room strewn with the fallen braves, and said to one man still able to comprehend speech:"We've had a charmingly quiet little evening. Don't you feel like a bit of a run about town before breakfast?"
In a Western city he was the guest of a club, among whose members were a number of stout drinkers. They undertook to "tank up the aesthete," as they expressed it. The process was long. As the sun was breaking into the club windows, Wilde looked about over a room strewn with fallen braves, and said to the one man still able to comprehend speech:
In a Western city he was the guest of a club among whose members were a number of stout drinkers. They undertook to "tank up the æsthete" as they expressed it. The process was long. As the sun was breaking into the club windows, Wilde looked about over a room strewn with fallen braves, and said to the one man still able to comprehend speech:
In a western city he was the guest of a club, among whose members were a number of stout drinkers. They undertook to "tank up the aesthete," as they expressed it. The process was long. As the sun was breaking into the club windows Wilde looked over a room strewn with fallen braves, and said to the one man still able to comprehend speech:
But those who met him under normal conditions found Mr. Wilde a witty and engaging talker; unusually well informed on a wide range of literature and art subjects, and quite able to care for himself in any mental encounter. The public at large not knowing this of him refused to accept him or his cult seriously, and Wilde returned to England richer only in experience, and a few hundred pounds. He had apologists, not of his class for his "lily-like" eccentricities.
But those who met him under normal conditions found Mr. Wilde a witty and engaging talker; unusually well informed on a wide range of literature and art subjects, and quite able to care for himself in any mental encounter. The public at large, not knowing this of him, refused to accept him or his cult seriously, and Wilde returned to England richer only in experiences and a few hundred pounds. He had apologists, not of his class, for his "lily-like" eccentricities. In 1889 Edmund Yates wrote of him in The London World:
But those who met him under normal conditions found Mr. Wilde a witty and engaging talker; unusually well informed on a wide range of literary and art subjects, and quite able to care for himself in any mental encounter. The public at large, not knowing this of him, refused to accept him or his cult seriously, and Wilde returned to England richer only in experiences and a few hundred pounds. He had apologists, not of his class, for his "lily-like" eccentricities. In 1889 Edmund Yates wrote of him the London World:
But those who met him under normal conditions found Mr. Wilde a witty and engaging talker; unusually well informed on a wide range of literary and art subjects, and quite able to care for himself in any mnental encounter. The public at large, not knowing this of him, refused to accept him or his cult seriously, and Wilde returned to England richer only in experiences and a few hundred pounds. He had apologists, not of his class, for his "lilylike" eccentricities. In 1880 Edmund Yates wrote of him in the London World: