I feel like the premise of this novel has entered our general cultural consciousness, but in case not, consider this a spoiler alert: a portrait is painted of an attractive young man, and the bad things he does are reflected not in his appearance but in the painting, which grows increasingly hideous.
Given that I knew this plot going in, the pleasure in reading this novel wasn’t primarily in watching the plot develop (although there were several twists I didn’t see coming) but in Wilde’s witty language- more than 130 years since this novel was published, Wilde is still sharp.
For anyone who is looking to move some classics off their TBR pile, I’d highly recommend- this was quick, entertaining and much more streamlined than the other 19th century novels I’ve read.
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