Дориан грей уайльда на английском. Бабилонская горка
- 1 Дориан грей уайльда на английском. Бабилонская горка
- 1.1 The Picture of Dorian Gray (in English, upper-intermediate)
- 1.2 Оскар Уайльд. Портрет Дориана Грея» (адаптированная книга на английском языке, уровень 4)
- 1.3 Портрет Дориана Грея
- 1.4 The Picture of Dorian Gray
- 1.5 The Picture of Dorian Gray
- 1.6 Oscar Wilde
- 1.7 Дориан грей английском читать онлайн. Бабилонская горка
The Picture of Dorian Gray (in English, upper-intermediate)
Хотите читать классику на английском? Это легко! И серия «Легко читаем по-английски» предлагает целую коллекцию авторов, английских и американских писателей. Сегодня предлагаю начать с изучения творчества шотландского писателя Оскара Уайльда и его самого известного произведения «Портрет Дориана Грея» (Oscar Wilde. The Picture of Dorian Gray»). Книги адаптирована до уровня upper-intermediate. Первая глава книги выложена в открытый доступ! Успехов в чтении!
Оскар Уайльд. Портрет Дориана Грея» (адаптированная книга на английском языке, уровень 4)
- Lord Henry Wotton — лорд Генри Уоттон
- Basil Hallward — Бэзил Холлуорд
- Dorian Gray — Дориан Грей
- Sybil Vane — Сибилла Уэйн
- full-length portrait — портрет в полный рост
- some little distance away — на небольшом расстоянии
- Grosvenor — Гросвенор
- wreaths of smoke — кольца дыма
- you are not in the least like him — ты ничуть на него не похож
The studio was filled with the rich smell of roses. Lord Henry Wotton was sitting on the divan and smoking innumerable cigarettes. Through the open door came the distant sounds of the London streets. In the centre of the room stood the full-length portrait of a young man of extraordinary personal beauty, and in front of it, some little distance away, was sitting the artist himself, Basil Hallward.
As the painter looked at the gracious form he had so skilfully mirrored in his art, a smile of pleasure passed across his face. He suddenly started up, and closing his eyes, placed his fingers upon the lids.
“It is your best work, Basil, the best thing you have ever done,” said Lord Henry. “You must certainly send it next year to the Grosvenor. The Academy is too large and too vulgar. The Grosvenor is really the only place to exhibit a painting like that.”
“I don’t think I shall send it anywhere,” the painter answered, moving his head in that odd way that used to make his friends laugh at him at Oxford. “No, I won’t send it anywhere.”
Lord Henry elevated his eyebrows and looked at him in amazement through the thin blue wreaths of smoke. “Not send it anywhere? My dear fellow, why? What odd people you painters are! A portrait like this would set you far above all the young men in England.”
“I know you will laugh at me,” Basil replied, “but I really can’t exhibit it. I have put too much of myself into it.”
Lord Henry stretched himself out on the divan and laughed. “Too much of yourself in it! Upon my word, Basil, this man is truly beautiful. Don’t flatter yourself, Basil: you are not in the least like him.”
“You don’t understand me, Harry,” answered the artist. “I know that perfectly well. Indeed, I should be sorry to look like him. I am telling you the truth. It is better not to be different from other people. The stupid and ugly have the best of this world. Dorian Gray -”
“Dorian Gray? Is that his name?” asked Lord Henry walking across the room towards Basil Hallward.
“Yes, that is his name. I didn’t intend to tell it to you.”
“Oh, I can’t explain. When I like people immensely, I never tell their names to any one. When I leave town now I never tell my people where I am going. If I did, I would lose all my pleasure. It is a silly habit, I dare say. I suppose you think that’s very foolish?”
“Not at all,” answered Lord Henry, “not at all, my dear Basil. You seem to forget that I am married, so my life is full of secrets, I never know where my wife is, and my wife never knows what I am doing. When we meet we tell each other the most absurd stories with the most serious faces.”
“I hate the way you talk about your married life, Harry,” said Basil Hallward, walking towards the door that led into the garden.“I believe you are really a very good husband, but that you are ashamed of it. You are an extraordinary fellow. You never say a good thing, and you never do a wrong thing. Your cynicism is simply a pose.”
“Being natural is simply a pose,” cried Lord Henry, laughing; and the two young
men went out into the garden together. After a pause, Lord Henry pulled out his watch. “I am afraid I have to go, Basil,” he said in a quiet voice. “But before I go I want you to explain to me why you won’t exhibit Dorian Gray’s picture. I want the real reason.” “I told you the real reason.”
“No, you did not. You said that it was because there was too much of yourself in it. Now, that is childish.”
“Harry,” said Basil Hallward, looking him straight in the face, “every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not the sitter. The reason I will not exhibit this picture is that I am afraid that I have shown in it the secret of my own soul.”
Lord Henry laughed. “And what is that?” he asked. “Oh, there is really very little to tell, Harry,” answered the painter, “and I am afraid you will hardly understand it. Perhaps you will hardly believe it.”
Lord Henry smiled and picked a flower from the grass. “I am quite sure I’ll understand it,” he replied, staring at the flower, “and I can believe anything.”
“The story is simply this,” said the painter. “Two months ago I went to a party at Lady Brandon’s. After I had been in the room for about ten minutes, I suddenly realized that someone was looking at me. I turned around and saw Dorian Gray for the first time. When our eyes met, I felt the blood leaving my face. I knew that this boy would become my whole soul, my whole art itself. I grew afraid and turned to quit the room.”
“What did you do?”
“We were quite close, almost touching. Our eyes met again. I asked Lady Brandon to introduce me to him. It was simply inevitable.”
“What did Lady Brandon say about Mr. Dorian Gray?”
“Oh, something like ‘Charming boy. I don’t know what he does — I think he doesn’t do anything. Oh, yes, he plays the piano — or is it the violin, dear Mr. Gray?’ Dorian and I both laughed and we became friends at once.”
“Laughter is not at all a bad beginning for a friendship,” said the young lord, picking another flower, “and it is the best ending for one.”
Hallward shook his head. “You don’t understand what friendship is, Harry. Everyone is the same to you.”
“That’s not true!”cried Lord Henry, pushing his hat back, and looking at the summer sky. “I make a great difference between people. I choose my friends for their beauty, my acquaintances for their good characters and my enemies for their intelligence. A man cannot be too careful in the choice of his enemies. Of course, I hate my relations. And I hate poor people because they are ugly, stupid and drunk -”
“I don’t agree with a single word you have said. And I feel sure that you don’t agree either.”
Lord Henry touched his pointed brown beard with his finger, and the toe of his boot with his stick. “How English you are, Basil! An Englishman is only interested in whether he agrees with an idea, not whether it is right or wrong. I like persons better than principles, and I like persons with no principles better than anything else in the world. But tell me more about Mr Dorian Gray. How often do you see him?”
“Every day. I couldn’t be happy if I didn’t see him every day.”
“How extraordinary! I thought you only cared about your art.”
“He is all my art to me now,” said the painter. “I know that the work I have done since I met Dorian Gray, is the best work of my life. He is much more to me than a model or a sitter. In some strange way his personality has shown me a new kind of art. He seems like a little boy — though he is really more than twenty — and when he is with me I see the world differently.”
“Basil, this is extraordinary! I must see Dorian Gray.” Hallward got up from his seat and walked up and down the garden. After some time he came back. “Harry,” he said, “Dorian Gray is the reason for my art. You might see nothing in him. I see everything in him.”
“Then why won’t you exhibit his portrait?” asked Lord Henry.
“An artist should paint beautiful things, but he should put nothing of his own life into them. There is too much of myself in the thing, Harry — too much of myself! Some day I will show the world what that beauty is. For that reason the world will never see my portrait of Dorian Gray.”
“I think you are wrong, Basil, but I won’t argue with you. Tell me, is Dorian Gray very fond of you?”
The painter thought for a few moments. “He likes me,” he answered, after a pause. “I know he likes me. Of course I flatter him dreadfully and tell him things that I should not. He is usually very charming to me, and we spend thousands of wonderful hours together. But sometimes he can be horribly thoughtless and seems to enjoy causing me pain. Then I feel, Harry, that I have given my whole soul to someone who uses it like a flower to put in his coat on a summer’s day.”
“Summer days are long, Basil,” said Lord Henry in a quiet voice. “Perhaps you will get bored before he will. Intelligence lives longer than beauty. One day you will look at your friend and you won’t like his colour or something.
And then you will begin to think that he has behaved badly towards you —”
“Harry, don’t talk like that. As long as I live, Dorian Gray will be everything to me. You can’t feel what I feel. You change too often.”
“My dear Basil, that is exactly why I can feel it.” Lord Henry took a cigarette from his pretty silver box and lit it. Then he turned to Hallward and said, “I have just remembered.”
“Remembered what, Harry?”
“Where I heard the name of Dorian Gray.”
“Where was it?” asked Hallward with a slight frown.
“Don’t look so angry, Basil. It was at my aunt’s, Lady Agatha’s. She told me that she had discovered this wonderful young man. He was going to help her work with the poor people in the East End of London, and his name was Dorian Gray. Of course I didn’t know it was your friend.”
“I am very glad you didn’t, Harry.”
“I don’t want you to meet him.”
“Mr. Dorian Gray is in the studio, sir,” said the butler, coming into the garden.
“You must introduce me now,” cried Lord Henry, laughing. The painter turned to his servant. “Ask Mr. Gray to wait, Parker. I will come in in a few moments.”
Then he looked at Lord Henry. “Dorian Gray is my dearest friend,” he said. “He has a simple and a beautiful nature. Don’t spoil him. Don’t try to influence him. Your influence would be bad. Don’t take away from me the one person who makes me a true artist. Mind, Harry, I trust you.”
“What nonsense you talk!” said Lord Henry, smiling, and taking Hallward by the arm, he almost led him into the house.
Портрет Дориана Грея
The Picture of Dorian Gray
автор: Оскар Уайльд (Oscar Wilde)
The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Picture of Dorian Gray, by Oscar Wilde
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Title: The Picture of Dorian Gray
Author: Oscar Wilde
Release Date: June 9, 2008 [EBook #174]
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The Picture of Dorian Gray
The artist is the creator of beautiful things. To reveal art and conceal the artist is art’s aim. The critic is he who can translate into another manner or a new material his impression of beautiful things.
The highest as the lowest form of criticism is a mode of autobiography. Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault.
Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the cultivated. For these there is hope. They are the elect to whom beautiful things mean only beauty.
There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written, or badly written. That is all.
The nineteenth century dislike of realism is the rage of Caliban seeing his own face in a glass.
The nineteenth century dislike of romanticism is the rage of Caliban not seeing his own face in a glass. The moral life of man forms part of the subject-matter of the artist, but the morality of art consists in the perfect use of an imperfect medium. No artist desires to prove anything. Even things that are true can be proved. No artist has ethical sympathies. An ethical sympathy in an artist is an unpardonable mannerism of style. No artist is ever morbid. The artist can express everything. Thought and language are to the artist instruments of an art. Vice and virtue are to the artist materials for an art. From the point of view of form, the type of all the arts is the art of the musician. From the point of view of feeling, the actor’s craft is the type. All art is at once surface and symbol. Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril. Those who read the symbol do so at their peril. It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors. Diversity of opinion about a work of art shows that the work is new, complex, and vital. When critics disagree, the artist is in accord with himself. We can forgive a man for making a useful thing as long as he does not admire it.
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«Портрет Дориана Грея» краткое содержание на английском
The Picture of Dorian Gray begins on a beautiful summer day in Victorian era England, where Lord Henry Wotton, an opinionated man, is observing the sensitive artist Basil Hallward painting the portrait of Dorian Gray, a handsome young man who is Basil’s ultimate muse. While sitting for the painting, Dorian listens to Lord Henry espousing his hedonistic world view, and begins to think that beauty is the only aspect of life worth pursuing. This prompts Dorian to wish that the painted image of himself would age instead of himself.
Dorian invites Basil and Lord Henry to see Sibyl perform in Romeo and Juliet . Sibyl, too enamoured with Dorian to act, performs poorly, which makes both Basil and Lord Henry think Dorian has fallen in love with Sibyl because of her beauty instead of her acting talent. Embarrassed, Dorian rejects Sibyl, telling her that acting was her beauty; without that, she no longer interests him. On returning home, Dorian notices that the portrait has changed; his wish has come true, and the man in the portrait bears a subtle sneer of cruelty.
Conscience-stricken and lonely, Dorian decides to reconcile with Sibyl, but he is too late, as Lord Henry informs him that Sibyl killed herself by swallowing prussic acid. Dorian then understands that, where his life is headed, lust and good looks shall suffice. Dorian locks the portrait up, and over the following eighteen years, he experiments with every vice, influenced by a morally poisonous French novel that Lord Henry Wotton gave him.
One night, before leaving for Paris, Basil goes to Dorian’s house to ask him about rumours of his self-indulgent sensualism. Dorian does not deny his debauchery, and takes Basil to see the portrait. The portrait has become so hideous that Basil is only able to identify it as his work by the signature he affixes to all his portraits. Basil is horrified, and beseeches Dorian to pray for salvation. In anger, Dorian blames his fate on Basil, and stabs him to death. Dorian then calmly blackmails an old friend, the scientist Alan Campbell, into using his knowledge of chemistry to destroy the body of Basil Hallward. Alan later kills himself over the deed.
To escape the guilt of his crime, Dorian goes to an opium den, where James Vane is unknowingly present. James had been seeking vengeance upon Dorian ever since Sibyl killed herself, but had no leads to pursue: the only thing he knew about Dorian was the name Sibyl called him, «Prince Charming». In the opium den however he hears someone refer to Dorian as «Prince Charming», and he accosts Dorian. Dorian deceives James into believing that he is too young to have known Sibyl, who killed herself 18 years earlier, as his face is still that of a young man. James relents and releases Dorian, but is then approached by a woman from the opium den who reproaches James for not killing Dorian. She confirms that the man was Dorian Gray and explains that he has not aged in 18 years. James runs after Dorian, but he has gone.
James then begins to stalk Dorian, causing Dorian to fear for his life. However during a shooting party, one of the hunters accidentally kills James Vane who was lurking in a thicket. On returning to London, Dorian tells Lord Henry that he will be good from then on; his new probity begins with not breaking the heart of the naïve Hetty Merton, his current romantic interest. Dorian wonders if his new-found goodness has reverted the corruption in the picture, but when he looks he sees only an even uglier image of himself. From that, Dorian understands that his true motives for the self-sacrifice of moral reformation were the vanity and curiosity of his quest for new experiences.
Deciding that only full confession will absolve him of wrongdoing, Dorian decides to destroy the last vestige of his conscience, and the only piece of evidence remaining of his crimes — the picture. In a rage, he takes the knife with which he murdered Basil Hallward, and stabs the picture. The servants of the house awaken on hearing a cry from the locked room; on the street, passers-by who also heard the cry call the police. On entering the locked room, the servants find an unknown old man, stabbed in the heart, his face and figure withered and decrepit. The servants identify the disfigured corpse by the rings on its fingers which belonged to their master; beside him is the picture of Dorian Gray, restored to its original beauty.
Портрет Дориана Грея | The Picture of Dorian Gray — Elementary Level (Audio + Book)
Heinemann Guided Readers, Elementary Level, 1993
An artist paints a picture of the young and handsome Dorian Gray. When he sees it, Dorian makes a wish that changes his life. As he grows older, his face stays young and handsome. But the picture changes. Why can»t Dorian show it to anybody? What is its terrible secret?
Перед вами — адаптированная для так называемого элементарного уровня владения языком версия романа. (Вообще в данной серии предусмотрено 5 уровней). В архиве вы найдете текст и аудио.
Формат: PDF + MP3 (RAR)
Размер: 32 MB
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The Picture of Dorian Gray, Heinemann Guided Readers, Elementary Level
The Picture of Dorian Gray — Intermediate Level (Audio + Book)
The Picture of Dorian Gray (Oscar Wilde) ; Text adaptation, notes and activities
When the superbly handsome Dorian Gray sees his portrait he makes a terrible wish: that the portrait w ill grow older and that he will remain young forever. What happens to the portrait that no one ever sees? This disturbing story of a man w ho is w illin g to se ll his sou l for etern al youth w h ile pursuing pleasure and passion, was first published in 1890. It is one of Oscar W ilde’s most celebrated works.
Accessible adaptation at intermediate level;
— Wide range of activities covering the four skills;
— FCE-style exercises;
— Trinity-style exercises (Grade 8); — Recording of parts of the text.
Формат: PDF + MP3 (RAR)
Размер: 73.63 MB
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The Picture of Dorian Gray, Langenscheidt, Intermediate Level
The Picture of Dorian Gray — None Adapted (Audio + Book)
Dorian Gray, a young man of wealth and stature in late 1800’s London, meets Lord Henry Wotton while posing for a portrait by his friend Basil Hallward. Once the painting is complete, Dorian realizes that it will always be young and attractive, while he will be forced to age and wither with the years. Carelessly, he wishes the opposite were true. What happens is a treatise on morals, self-indulgence and how crucial personal responsibility is towards one’s self. Note: This is a recording of the 1890, 13-Chapter edition.
Аудиокнига «Портрет Дориана Грея», текст не адаптирован. Сама книга (в оригинале) в двух форматах — pdf и fb2 — находится в архиве.
Формат: MP3, 64 kbps (06 часов 23 минуты) + PDF + FB2
Размер: 167.7 (RAR)
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The Picture of Dorian Gray
Дориан не ответил, лишь бездумно шагнул к портрету и остановился перед ним. Но, стоило ему увидеть картину, как юноша отшатнулся, и на мгновение его щеки вспыхнули от удовольствия. Радость промелькнула в его глазах, словно он видел себя впервые. Он застыл в изумлении, туманно осознавая, что Холлуорд обращается к нему, но не улавливая смысла его слов.
Ощущение собственной красоты нахлынуло на него, словно откровение. Он никогда не чувствовал подобного ранее. Комплименты Бэзила Холлуорда казались ему лишь милым проявлением дружбы. Он слушал их, смеялся над ними – и забывал их. Они никак на него не повлияли. А затем появился лорд Генри Уоттон с его странной одой юности, его жутким предупреждением о её скоротечности. Это смутило Дориана, и теперь, перед отображением собственной красоты, полное осознание обрушилось на него. Да, наступит день, когда его лицо станет морщинистым и дряхлым, его глаза – туманными и бесцветными, осанка – сломленной и сутулой.
Исчезнет алый цвет его губ и золото волос. Жизнь, которая должна наполнять душу, покинет его тело. Он станет отвратительным, мерзким и покинутым.
Как только он подумал об этом, острая боль прорезала все его существо, словно нож, и заставила трепетать каждую струну души. Его глаза потемнели, словно аметисты, и показались слезы. Он чувствовал себя так, словно корка льда покрыла его сердце.
— Неужели тебе не нравится? – воскликнул Холлуорд в конце концов, пораженный молчанием юноши, не понимая, что оно означает.
— Конечно, он доволен, — сказал лорд Генри. – Разве есть кто-то, кому бы это не понравилось? Это же шедевр современного искусства. Я готов выложить за него всё, что угодно. Он должен быть моим.
— Это не моя собственность, Генри.
— А чья же?
— Дориана, конечно, — ответил художник.
— И повезло же ему!
— Как это печально, — пробормотал Дориан Грей, до сих пор не отрывая глаз от портрета. – Как же печально! Я стану старым, и ужасным, и отвратительным. Но этот портрет вечно останется юным. Он никогда не станет старше чем в этот конкретный июньский день. … Если бы только все могло быть иначе! Если бы это я вечно оставался молодым, а портрет старел! За это – вот за это – я отдал бы всё! Да, нет ничего в мире, что я не отдал бы за это. Ради этого я пожертвовал бы даже душой!
— Вряд ли ты был бы в восторге от возможности подобной сделки, Бэзил, — громко рассмеялся лорд Генри. – Достаточно странный итог твоей работы.
— Я бы наотрез отказался, Генри, — сказал Холлуорд.
Дориан Грей обернулся и посмотрел на него.
— Я не сомневаюсь, что вы бы так и поступили, Бэзил. Ваше искусство для вас дороже дружбы. Я для вас не более чем бронзовая статуя! Вряд ли больше, осмелюсь сказать.
Художник замер в изумлении. Дориан никогда так не говорил. Что произошло? Он казался раздраженным. Его лицо горело и щеки пылали.
— Да, — продолжил он, — я для вас не более чем ваш мраморный Гермес или ваш серебряный Фавн. Вы будете любить их всегда. А как долго я буду вам нравиться? До первой морщинки, полагаю. Я теперь уверен, что стоит кому-то потерять красоту, как бы это ни произошло, он тут же потеряет всё. Ваш портрет научил меня этому. Лорд Генри полностью прав. Молодость – вот единственное богатство. Как только я замечу, что старею – я покончу с собой!
Холлуорд побледнел и схватил его руку.
— Дориан! Дориан! – воскликнул он. – Не говори так! У меня никогда не было друга дороже тебя, и никогда не будет. Ты же не ревнуешь меня к предметам, правда? Ты, который лучше любого из них!
— Я ревную ко всему, чья красота не умрет. Я ревную к портрету, который вы нарисовали. Почему ему суждено сберечь то, что я обязан потерять? Каждое минувшее мгновение что-то крадет у меня и отдает ему. О, если бы только был какой-то другой способ! Если бы только портрет менялся, а я бы мог оставаться прежним! Зачем вы нарисовали его? Он однажды станет насмешкой надо мной – жуткой насмешкой!
Горячие слезы выступили у него на глазах; он выхватил руку и, бросившись на диван, спрятал лицо в подушках, словно во время молитвы.