|
|
Humor / Satire
The Wild Wit Of Oscar Wilde
by
PGR Nair
 More
than a century after his death, Oscar Wilde still intrigues us. This
poet, novelist, playwright, and essayist was also his era's leading
aphorist. George Bernard Shaw called him "incomparably the greatest
talker of his time -- perhaps of all time." The personality of Wilde as
a consummate conversationalist was admired by everyone who encountered
him. The smooth flowing utterance, sedate and self-possessed, oracular
in tone, whimsical in substance, carried on without halt, or hesitation
or change of word with the queer zest of a man perfect at the game.
So perfect were Wilde�s verbal thrusts that his victims were often
flattered to have been the cause of them. Wilde claimed he could discuss
any subject at any time prepared or not. A companion once took him up on
this claim, asking that he discourse on the subject of "The Queen."
Wilde retorted instantly- "The queen is not a subject.� Another time a
journalist told him, �I never discuss subjects on which I don�t know the
facts.� Wilde quickly observed, "That must limit your conversation
frightfully."
William Gilbert (of Gilbert and Sullivan) met Wilde at a dinner party.
As usual, Wilde dominated the gathering with his stories and wit. �I
wish I could talk like you�, said Gilbert during a rare pause. �I would
keep my mouth shut and claim it a virtue!�
�Ah!, That would be selfish�, responded Wilde.� I could deny myself the
pleasure of talking, but not to others the pleasure of listening.�
Now and again Wilde found himself bested at banter. One occasion took
place in America when a lady told him something was �awfully nice�.
�But �nice� is a such a nasty word ,� said a bored- looking Wilde
�Really, Mr. Wilde?�, she responded. �But is �nasty� such a nice word?�
Wilde once watched one of his old professors give a lecture in London.
The man was painfully soft spoken. Afterward, he asked some of the
members of the audience if they had heard him. �Overheard, now and
then�, said Wilde.
The French actor Coquelin once invited Oscar Wilde to visit him at his
home. Wilde asked when he would be there.
�I am always home about nine o�clock�, said Coquelin
�very well,
then I shall come one evening�
�But, Monsieur Wilde, it is nine o�clock in the morning I meant.�
�Oh! Monsieur Coquelin�, said Wilde who routinely slept until mid-day,
"you are a remarkable man indeed. I am much more bourgeois than you are.
I always go to bed about four or five o�clock. I have never been able to
stay awake until that hour.�
Before leaving London for a lecture tour to USA in 1882, Wilde took
elocution lessons from a friend. �I want a natural style �, Wilde told
his teacher, �with a touch of affectation�.
�Well�, said the teacher, �Haven�t you got that, Oscar?�
One of his favorites story about America involved those the southern
states whose older citizens dated the important events before the Civil
war. �How beautiful the moon is tonight�, remarked Wilde to a
Southerner. �Yes�, the old southerner replied, �but you should have seen
it before the War�.
While touring in USA, he lingered in New York thinking that someone
might produce his play �Vera�. When a theater manager offered him
advance on condition he makes some changes in his script�. He replied
demurely, �Who am I to tamper with a masterpiece?�. Wilde himself liked
this wit so much that he used to repeat it on many occasions.
At the end of his lecture tour, Wilde developed a stock response for
those who asked how it had gone. �A great success�, he would tell them.
�I had two secretaries. One to answer my letters and the other to send
locks of hair to my admirers. I have had to let them both go, poor
fellows: �One is in hospital with writer�s cramps, and the other is
quite bald�.
During a dinner conversation, Wilde told a host that he'd toiled
strenuously that day. "I was working on the proof of one of my poems all
the morning and took out a comma," he said.
"And in the afternoon?" she asked.
"In the
afternoon," responded Wilde, "-- well, I put it back again."
As this legendary genius rightfully observed, �Life does not cease to be
funny when people die any more than it ceases to be serious when people
laugh�. Good conversation is an ephemeral art, and as the autumn breezes
blow brown leaves to eternity, the spring green freshness becomes only a
memory. So it is with Oscar Wilde. The wicked wit of Wilde still glows
green.
March 29, 2009
Top
|
Humor
|
|
