First, I would like to welcome our newest member, Kathy Sullivan, to the group. Kathy, please be prepared for your investiture, which may or may not include a hood and a ride to an undisclosed location... Just kidding, although that is what I expected when I was first introduced to the fabled Literature Club of Hastings-on-Hudson!
And now in all Ernest...our next meeting will be this Wednesday, December 14th for an afternoon of Oscar Wilde presented by Frances. Once again, we will be meeting in front of the dramatic backdrop of the Palisades in the Orr Room of the Hastings-on-Hudson Public Library. The doors will open at 12:30pm for pre-show chatter, with the bell to take our seats at 1pm.
Masks requested but true identities will remain revealed. Fans are optional. Handbags will be checked at the door! xJacquie
Christine's Minutes Ten members of the Literature Club gathered, yet again, in the tried and true Orr Room of our beloved Library, where the chairs may be uncomfortable, or would be but for Jacquie intrepidly schlepping** (note correct use of the word) her cushions every two weeks, but the views are spectacular. Today there were white caps on the Hudson, always a delight to behold.
In the course of introducing ourselves to our newest member – Welcome Kathy Lewis! – we learned a few things about our older members, such as the fact that Fran would like to be called Frances, and Connie would like to be called Constance. Duly noted by your secretary. Kathy is a neighbor of Linda’s, and has lived in Hastings for over twenty years. She is an architect, and has two sons. We are pleased to have her join our select group.
President Constance Stewart rang the bell. The minutes of the previous meeting were read and accepted, with one important correction, regarding the word schlep. To schlep is to carry or haul something along. Schlump was the word used by Joanna, correctly; it describes a slovenly person, which of course Joanna is not, unless she is dressing purposely as a ‘schlump’. Your secretary always enjoys enlarging her vocabulary.
Constance went over the schedule for the coming year. In order to discuss how we would go forward, whether via Zoom, or at the library, or back to some version of normal, a brief Zoom meeting on January 11th was proposed.
Frances then entertained us with an afternoon of Oscar Wilde – who could be wittier? In the spirit of her subject, Frances looked very fin-de-siècle in her black boots, black velvet jacket and red velvet scarf.
But why Oscar? Frances explained that Barbara laid claim to Molière, and Christine scarfed up Stoppard, so quoi faire? We also learned she is possibly the only literate, highly literate, English speaker who has not seen The Importance of Being Earnest.
For the life, Frances referred to Richard Ellman’s canonical biography. Wilde lived in a time of the explosion of literacy, and photography. Frances passed around photos of Wilde’s tomb at Père Lachaise, of Wilde foppishly dressed and splayed upon a bearskin rug, and several other pictures of Wilde, his unenviable wife, and Bosie, his lover.
Nowadays, Wilde is regarded as a homosexual martyr. But naturellement it was more complicated than that, the three trials of Oscar Wilde. The first case was initiated by Wilde. He sued Bosie’s father, the Marquess of Queensbury (by all accounts a violent homophobic brute and philistine) for libel, and misspelling. Queensbury left a card at Wilde’s club, on which he had written that Wilde was a “posing somdomite”. Setting this trial in motion was the first very bad idea. It was Wilde’s younger lover, Bosie, Alfred Lord Douglas, who was eager to see his father humiliated in court. Against all advice and better judgement, Wilde proceeded, and lost the libel suit.
The second trial was launched by the government, accusing Wilde of “gross indecency.” But this time the jury could not reach a verdict – largely because the “rent boys” so vital to the government’s case, did not make credible witnesses. The case was dismissed.
For number three, the government again prosecuted Wilde for gross indecency, and this time they won their case. In 1895 Wilde was sentenced to two years of hard labor. The conditions were dreadful by any standards. After eighteen months, he was transferred to another prison where a humane superintendent allowed him writing paper. Each day he wrote his letter to Bosie, to be later called De Profundis, and each day the superintendent took away the day’s writing. Wilde saw his pages again when he was released.
After two years, Wilde’s life as he knew it was over. He was bankrupt. His wife Constance changed her name, and his two sons – whom he never saw again – grew up as Cyril and Vyvyan Holland.
But back to the beginning. Oscar Fingal O’Flahertie Wills Wilde was born in Dublin in 1854, and died in Paris in 1900, in mortal combat with his wallpaper. “Either this wallpaper goes, or I do,” he said. And we know who went. Wilde’s parents were prominent Anglo-Irish Protestants. He studied at Oxford, and there, having elegantly decorated his rooms, he produced the first of his eminently quotable epigrams: I am finding it harder and harder every day to live up to my blue china.
In London, Wilde was a popular guest at dinner parties, and man about town. To support himself he wrote reviews, gave lectures, whatever he could. Then in 1882 the D’Oyly Carte Company sent him on a lecture tour in the US, to drum up an audience for Patience. One of the characters in the play, Bunthorne, was based on Wilde. In America, he was a great success, and generated publicity, for the play, and for Oscar Wilde, the dandy, the pinnacle of the British Aesthetic Movement. About that time, Wilde was heard to say, “There is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about.”
In 1884 Wilde married Constance Lloyd who was, by very good luck for Oscar, wealthy. In 1885 and 1886 their two sons were born.
Around that time Wilde was seduced by the Canadian, Robbie Ross, and became a practicing homosexual. He remained friends with Ross all his life, and it would be the loyal Ross who secured Wilde’s copyrights for his sons, and arranged his burial at Père Lachaise.
From 1888 on, he was immensely productive. The Picture of Dorian Gray came out in 1890. In 1892 Sarah Bernhardt performed in his play, Salomé. Then came A Woman of No Importance, Lady Windermere’s Fan, The Ideal Husband and in 1895, The Importance of Being Earnest.
The plays were all smashing successes. But then came the three trials, and it all came crashing down when he was convicted in 1895.
At last members read four delightful scenes from The Importance, giving us a chance to speak such splendid lines as “I can resist everything except temptation” and “To lose one [parent] may be regarded as a misfortune, to lose two looks like carelessness!” And Algernon regarding his aunt: “Ah! that must be Aunt Augusta. Only relatives, or creditors, ever ring in that Wagnerian manner.” And here is Lady Bracknell remonstrating Jack Worthing: “Mr. Worthing! Rise, sir, from this semi-recumbent posture. It is most indecorous.”
And one last one, just because: “All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That is his.”
Respectfully submitted,
Christine
Lehner, Recording Secretary
