Below you will find articles covering language, literature and social messages.
The Enduring Message of Oscar Wilde's 'The Picture of Dorian Grey'.
by Martha Jones
Since its publication in 1890, Oscar Wilde’s ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’ has sparked much debate and criticism regarding its overall moral principle. On the surface, the novel seems to be a warning against the indulgence in material objects to seek pleasure, the following of a hedonistic principle. However, it may be considered that Wilde’s use of art and beauty in his novel acts as an opposition to aestheticism, and society's obsession with youth. Or, it could be a tale exposing humanity’s fixation on their own morality, and our compulsion to thoroughly analyse our flaws and merits.
Wilde explicitly highlights the idea of hedonism through the titular character, Dorian Gray, whose own superficiality escalates throughout the book. Through his description of Dorian’s indulgence in treasures such as jewels and tapestries, it could be argued that Wilde mirrors the overconsumptive society that we live in today. As a result of Dorian’s indulgences, he finds a portrait of himself more corrupted upon every visit, emphasising the underlying sin in hedonism. One of the most shocking instances of Dorian’s shallow nature is his rejection of Sibyl Vane. This is particularly disturbing due to Wilde’s development of Dorian’s volatile nature. A stark contrast is created between Dorian’s all consuming love for Sibyl and his acute hatred for her. As soon as Sibyl loses her talent, Dorian’s love evaporates, suggesting that it wasn’t her, but her brilliance that he fell in love with. In this case, Wilde may be opposing humanity's obsession with artistry and genius. Furthermore, as Dorian is disillusioned with Sibyl’s impressive persona, it may be a comment on society’s indistinction between reality and illusion. This could also be applied to Sibyl’s suicide, where both Dorian and Lord Henry view it as a magnificent event of romanticism, rather than the tragedy it really is.
In his preface, Wilde comments that ‘all art is quite useless.’ This notion develops an irony through the context of the novel, as Dorian’s portrait has both physical and moral use. Wilde seems to use art as a backdrop for morality throughout the novel, as both the yellow book and Basil’s painting reflect human corruption with sin and evil. In correlation to this, the theme of aestheticism seems to shape the plot of the novel. It is Dorian’s own need for youth and beauty that establishes his inextricable link with the portrait. This highly reflects society's obsession over youth and beauty today. Wilde emphasises the danger of a life dedicated to aestheticism, as Dorian’s portrait displays his true moral and physical disintegration. In fact, it is Dorian’s fixation over his own appearance that is a dominating factor in his demise.
Arguably, it is Wilde’s use of morality, and Dorian’s obsession with his own, that is the key message of the novel. Wilde may hint at the idea that, like Dorian, we each have a portrait of ourselves that changes with time and acts of depravity. If this is the case, Dorian’s excessive examination of his portrait could reflect society’s fixation on their own morals and ways of life. Towards the end of the novel, Dorian’s refusal to pursue Hetty Merton, so as not to corrupt her like Sibyl, is his attempt to finally improve his morality. However, this too poisons his painting, suggesting that moral actions, for the sake of being moral, are in reality immoral as the intention itself is not pure, and only to improve himself.. Similarly, Wilde seems to highlight society’s obsession with reputation. Dorian’s portrait becomes salient to him, as he is constantly preoccupied with his inevitable downfall if the painting is discovered. It is ironic that through his attempt to hide his sins from society, Dorian commits the epitome of evil by murdering Basil. Therefore, it could be considered that Wilde warns against society’s self-absorption, as examining our immoralities too closely will only lead to further sin.
Ultimately, we are led to believe that Wilde’s ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’ acts as a cautionary tale for society. It is deliberately unclear what lesson Wilde aims to teach, whether he is warning us against hedonism, obsession with beauty, or fixation on our own morality. While these ideas can work together simultaneously, the central message of Wilde’s novel is ambiguous. Despite this, there is clearly a parallel between Wilde’s society and the society today, proving that the novel’s message endures. Although the novel could resonate differently with each reading, the core concepts persist.
Linguistic Relativity: Does the Language We Speak Shape the Way We See the World?
by Isobel Fisher
At face value, languages seem to be merely words and mannerisms which we use to communicate with one another. This idea is even perpetuated by globally trusted and prestigious institutions; The University of Cambridge defines language as “a system of communication by speaking, writing, or making signs in a way that can be understood in particular regions”. But what if language runs much deeper than simply words or actions that we use? What if the language we speak, the language we think in, shapes our entire lives? This is the theory of linguistic relativity.
Often associated with American Scholars such as Edward Sapir and Benjamin Lee Wharf, the theory of linguistic relativity argues that the grammar, structure and vocabulary of a language can unconsciously shape the way an individual perceives reality. Naturally, this creates variation of beliefs among humanity (leading to a more social form of cultural diversity). This theory has sparked curiosity among linguists, psychologists and sociologists. It is vital to mention that this has been a heavily debated topic for over a century, and since nothing is necessarily ‘proven’ in psychology (due to the complexity of the brain and how young psychological principles are), the question still remains: does language merely describe our world, or secretly mould it?
A World divided by Words
Different languages focus on aspects of life in different ways. An excellent example of this is with colour. There is no universally agreed list of colours. We all see the same shades but the categories which we use to distinguish them vary massively. For instance, Russian distinguishes between light blue (goluboy) and dark blue (siniy) in a similar way that English speakers distinguish between red and pink. However, as I'm sure you have recognised, English lumps both these colours together under the term ‘blue’. So how does this affect their perception of the world? In the same way it would be considered odd for an English speaker to call a red shirt ‘pink’, the obligatory nature of the ‘blue distinction’ might mean that the fashion industry in Russia develops more hyper-specific vocabulary for highlights and lowlights of fabrics compared to languages where this isn’t the case such as English. It also causes psychological development: native Russian speakers are consistently 10% quicker at distinguishing between light and dark shades of blue than English speakers.
Furthermore, studies have shown that grammatical nuances play a huge role in worldly perception, even when discussing the same thing. I’m sure from your experience in learning modern languages that you are familiar with the fact that certain languages use genders for nouns. This is a completely unfamiliar concept in English, so we must divert our attention to European languages. German, a mother tongue for over 95 million people, utilises 3 genders for its nouns; Masculine, Feminine and Neuter. In this language, ‘bridge’ (die Brücke) is feminine, potentially explaining why bridges are often described as “beautiful”, “elegant” and “fragile” in German speaking countries. Conversely, in Spanish (a language of 2 genders; Masculine and Feminine), “bridge” (el puente) is masculine and is commonly referred to as being “strong”, “sturdy” and “towering”. Although seemingly insignificant with the bridge itself, this concept applies to many nouns in both languages, shaping the characteristics that an individual believes objects to have.
There are a plethora of different examples I can give you on this with equally as many languages, but the final one that I am going to discuss is how limitations in vocabulary impact feeling. A philosopher named Ludwig Wittgenstein made the observation that ‘the limits of my language are the limits of my world’. What he meant by this is that when you don’t have precise words for something, you can’t think clearly about it, examine it, or solve it. You can only feel it vaguely without addressing it in its entirety. For instance, Ancient Greek has 6 words for love; Eros (romantic desire), Philia (deep friendship), Storge (Family affection), Pragma (mature love), Philosia (self-love) and Agape (unconditional love). English has 1: ‘love’. This is sociologically relevant because an English speaking person navigating a relationship only has 1 tool, where 6 or more exist. They are able to feel the difference, but are unable to name it. This leads to them being unable to examine and resolve it.
However, these ideas don’t necessarily prove that languages shape ideas (as linguistic determinism suggests), it merely highlights that there is a correlation, and with more research in the future, I am certain that we can become more sure of its impact.
Okay… but how does this link to Sociology?
For Sociologists, linguistic relativity is more than just an interesting idea to pass over, they use it to raise important questions regarding power, identity and social inequality. Even within the same language, vocabulary shapes the labels we use for different groups of people, cultures, or ideologies, influencing our perspectives/opinions on them. For instance, some individuals use the term “illegal immigrant" whilst others use “undocumented migrant”. Both of these terms have different emotional baggage surrounding them, influencing the way we see that group of people. Naturally, this is a powerful concept as it may spark hatred or discrimination toward individuals just because of the labels we use, which further fragments our already shattered society. Another example is “rioter” vs “protester”. “Rioter” has negative connotations as being ‘rowdy’ or ‘chaotic’ whereas “protester” is seen as ‘inspirational’ and ‘empowering’. This is why theorists such as Antonio Gramsci and Michel Foucault argued that controlling language means controlling the boundaries of what society sees as normal, acceptable or true. In this sense, linguistic relativity becomes a tool with which we can understand and utilises power to promote reformation.
How Language shapes identity
An increased use of terms such as “microaggression”, “neurodivergent” and “non-binary” allow us to understand more deeply social constructs thus shaping the way we live. However, it is important to question whether it is the language itself doing this, or the movements and acceptance that the language describes. Either way, language plays a fundamental role and generates pathways for further research and development.
But what if you speak more than one language? I am sure that some of you reading this may be bi- (or maybe even tri-) lingual meaning that you have a variety of vocabulary and grammatical structures at your fingertips. But how does this shape the way we see the world? Many multilingual individuals report feeling “different versions of themselves” when speaking or thinking in different languages. This idea is also reflected in Psychology, where studies have shown that there is a difference in emotional tone, and cultural values depending on the language being used.
Evaluations
Linguistic determinism (the idea that language is the cause of worldly perceptions definitively) is widely rejected by researchers for a variety of reasons. For instance, some individuals think visually (imagining images or objects as opposed to the words surrounding them), or through auditory cues (through hearing the sounds in the imagination). The weaker version of this theory, Linguistic Relativity (where language is simply a factor that influences perception as opposed to shaping it in its entirety) is much more widely accepted and even supported by researchers.
Why does it matter today?
In an ever-changing world of political conflict, technological advancements and social reformation, understanding the theory of linguistic relativity is more important than ever. This is because we are able to control the labels we use, and the tools we have access to (by learning other languages) allowing us to create a more positive environment for us to live in, promoting equality and love globally. Without it… do we really understand each other at all?
Why Do We Follow Unreliable Narrators?
by Afiyah Rasool
In most books, we trust the narrator. We are supposed to, they’re almost our only source of information. If they tell us something, we believe it. So, what happens when the narrator lies, or forgets, or sees it differently from everyone else?
Whether it’s Holden Caulfield in ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ or Esther Greenwood in ‘The Bell Jar’, literature is full of narrators we can’t always trust. Yet, I’m sure most people will agree that these characters are some of the most compelling.
We are led to ask: why do we keep reading if we know we’re not getting the whole truth?
An unreliable narrator in literature is a character whose account of events is compromised, so their version of the story cannot be accepted as entirely accurate. The true answer is that we don’t always find out what really happens. We as readers are not always given a complete picture of events, which raises an interesting question: why are so many bestselling texts narrated by those we can’t depend on? Sometimes it is intentional; other times it happens due to memory, or emotional state. This seems frustrating at first, surely if we can’t trust the narrator, we should stop reading?
In Gregory David Roberts’ ‘Shantaram’, Lin recounts the events of his life years after they truly happened. This leads to these memories being selective and shaped by hindsight, so the reader never knows if they are reading the whole truth. Also, it is confirmed by the author himself that many events and characters are added to the novel for dramatic effect. Yet this uncertainty about the truth makes him more interesting, rather than less. His narration of the events reveals more to us about him as a character and who he has become than the events themselves. The gaps in his memory force us to think more critically about what we read, and what the story tells us, instead of taking his words at face value and accepting them.
A similar effect is created in A Streetcar Named Desire by Tennessee Williams. The character Blanche DuBois has an altered perception of reality, changed by trauma and fear which leads to the deterioration of her health. Throughout the play, the audience is encouraged to question what she tells others, yet dismissing her completely would erase some of the play’s most nuanced and important ideas. While her account cannot be confirmed as accurate at any stage, it tells us more about how she perceives reality, providing us with valuable information about her experiences.
Therefore, does a perspective have to be reliable to have value?
I would argue that it doesn’t. In fact, it could be contendable that no narrator can possibly be reliable. Every person will see events through their own lens, which is shaped by upbringing, belief, experiences and emotions. In ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’, we see the perspectives of other major characters such as Mitch, Stanley and Stella, but they too, are unreliable at times. Memory will always remain imperfect. Bias is entirely unavoidable. Even if we consider real life, two people could witness the same event and hold differing recounts of it. The difference we see with characters in literature such as Lin and Blanche is that their unsurety is easier to notice, and plays a central role in the text. While their unreliability comes from differing sources, both characters demonstrate that a changed perspective can still be a meaningful one.
Literature cannot be seen as simply presenting facts. It is ultimately about understanding people. Unreliable narrators force us to question what we are told, looking beyond the surface level. I believe that unreliable narrators have the potential to provide a more relatable perception of the world, creating a puzzle which leaves room for new perspectives through ambiguity. More importantly, these characters remind us that no matter how flawed or untrustworthy a perspective is, it always has something to offer to us.
If we only listened to the voices in literature which were perfectly and completely objective, literature would lose what makes it human. Not all stories will tell us exactly what happened, but they will always tell us something true.
-The Archer Eye-
Est. 2022