Oscar Wilde's Life and Death

Oscar Wilde is Born

Full name Oscar Fingal O’Flahertie Wills Wilde is born in Dublin, Ireland to parents Sir William Wilde, a doctor and published author, and Jane Francesca Elgee, or Speranza, his mother who wrote under this unusual name as a revolutionary poet. Wilde had an older brother who went by the name of Willie as well as a younger sister who was known as Isola Francesca who tragically died at the age of 10. 

Wilde Attends Oxford

Wilde attends Oxford where he is awarded a degree with honors. During his time at Oxford, which he arrived there at the age of 20, he wanted to make something of himself socially. He decided to study classics stating that it was the only course at Oxford "where one can be, simultaneously, brilliant and unreasonable".

Publishing Wilde's First Collection

After graduating from Oxford and moving to London, Wilde publishes Poems. This work recieved a mild amount of recognition and was believed it imitated writers such as John Keats and Algernon Swinburne. Despite this belief, he was seen as an up and coming writer. After his "big break" being an ambitious young writer, he accepted a position lecturing in the states for 12 months. 

US Lecture Tour / UK Lecture

Wilde takes a year in the US to teach Anerican's about the importance of art and literature. During his time, he taught in 140 lectures and was even able to meet his greatest idol, Walt Whitman, which he later expressed to him that "There is no one in this wide great world of America whom I love and honor so much." During his time in New York he writes his first play, Vera, which doesn't gain much traction.

After finishing this tour, he headed back to London where he continued to lecture throughout England and Ireland. During his time lecturing close to home, he works on his next failing work, The Duchess of Padua. Despite multiple failed attempts as a playwright, he was able to become regonized as an important part of the aesthetic movement for art and literature. 

Wilde is Married

In 1884, Wilde marries Constance Lloyd, the daughter of a wealthy English barrister. They moved into their Chelsea street house together shortly after and had two children, Cyril and Vyvyan, in 1885 and 1886. Constance was known to be well educated, having mastered several languages, and being somewhat of a writer herself. The relationship between Wilde and Lloyd fell apart when she discovered her husband's true sexuality when he began staying in hotels more than their Chelsea home. 

Apprenticeship as an Editor

In 1887, Wilde started a job as an editor for The Woman's World, a high-end victorian women's magazine. The magazine highlighted women's opinions on subjects such as art, literature, and modern life. He vowed to improve the magazine for the better claiming that "take a wider range, as well as a high standpoint, and deal not merely with what women wear, but with what they think, and what they feel". 

The Trials of Oscar Wilde

In 1891 Oscar Wilde developed a close relationship with British aristocrat Lord Alfred Douglas which ended up turning into a sexual affair, an act that was punishable by law at the time in England. When Douglas' father found out about the love affair, he was so angry he exposed and accused him of being a sodomite. Wilde despite knowing the evidence against him was so upset he took the Marquess to court for defamation of character, but eventually dropped the suit since the evidence of his illegal act was so prevalent. He was then arrested and ordered to stand trial which led to his imprisonment. 

Wilde's Death

After his release from prison at the age of 46, Wilde suffered a bad case of meningitis following an ear infection which led him to his deadly demise. A man often ridiculed by the papers, but a believer in art for art's sake was ahead of his time and died after a short and often harsh life.  After his death, a letter he sent to Douglas was published which seems to highlight the way prison broke him. He stated

"Suffering is one very long moment. We cannot divide it by seasons. We can only record its moods and chronicle their return. With us, time itself does not progress. It revolves. It seems to circle round one centre of pain. The paralysing immobility of a life every circumstance of which is regulated after an unchangeable pattern, so that we eat and drink and lie down and pray, or kneel at least for prayer, according to the inflexible laws of an iron formula: this immobile quality, that makes each dreadful day in the very minutest detail like its brother, seems to communicate itself to those external forces the very essence of whose existence is ceaseless change. "