
Retro-Victorianism and the Simulacrum of Art in Will Self’s Dorian: An Imitation 233
could only be hinted at, as Peter Widdowson argues (2006: 505). The intertextual relation
between both texts is far more complex, and not merely re-productive, as Louisa Yates
suggests (2009: 205-206). Robert Douglas-Fairhurst contends that, despite its flaws, The
Picture of Dorian Gray maintains the equilibrium between “sharp-edged detail and soft-focus
vagueness, confession and reticence” (2002: 20). However, in his view, Self’s homage, parody
and critical commentary on Wilde’s masterpiece lacks the latter’s transgressive reticence, so
that:
[Dorian: An Imitation] is oddly lifeless […]. Most of this lifelessness can be put down to the
measured excesses of Self’s style, which from the start is so mired in blood, semen and the finicky
rituals of drug-taking that struggles to keep pace with Dorian’s descent into a life of depravity. […]
Will Self leaves so little to the reader’s imagination that he also leaves too little room for his own
imagination to work in. And that is a shame” (Douglas-Fairhurst, 2002: 20).
In my view, the critic’s discourse is concerned with and determined both by aesthetic and
moral aspects. That is, when dealing with explicitly gay texts, some critics feel particularly
uncomfortable and, therefore, censor what they consider morally objectionable under the
cover of aesthetic explanations. Harrison recalls -apparently with nostalgia- the words by
Wilde’s Lord Henry Wotton, “I have grown to love secrecy. It seems to be the one thing that
can make modern life mysterious and marvellous to us”. By contrast, in the critic’s view,
“stripped all mystery, the afterlife of Self’s Dorian is strangely prosaic” (2003: 6). On the one
hand, should we take Wotton’s words seriously if Wilde himself aimed at parodying
Decadentism and its followers? On the other hand, why should we necessarily long for the
secrecy that nineteenth-century politics imposed upon society in general and artists in
particular? All this said, it is debatable whether Self’s novel buries its satiric and witty
undertones under the excesses of the early nineteen eighties, constantly seeking provocation:
“The more ‘Dorian’ strains to shock, the less shocking it becomes: if pornography is the oldest
art, this is pornography’s oldest problem. As Self’s Wotton might have put it in his turn: it’s
a damn sight harder to épater le bourgeois than it used to be” (Harrison, 2003: 6). What the
critic seems to overlook is the “pornographic” character of contemporary culture and
literature, and Will Self seems a good practitioner. What I mean by pornographic relates,
among others, to Baudrillard’s concept of contemporary art, namely a precession of images
that devour each other without any apparent referent (The Conspiracy of Art, 2005).
A particularly harsh review of Dorian: An Imitation is an anonymous one in Times Online.
In the reviewer’s opinion, the novel “is a shameless reworking of our most significant myth
of shamelessness” (Anon., 2002). He accuses the novel of plagiarizing Wilde’s novella,
standardising gay culture, and trying to rouse the morally-concerned reader: “Self is a
provocative reader - unless you are a bigoted, homophobic, misogynist, racist aristocrat,
[Dorian: An Imitation] will make you sick” (2002). However, although I do not match this
definition, I enjoyed reading the novel. In my view, the reviewer’s politically correct stance
affects his analysis of the text and his assessment of potential readers. Although Dorian: An
Imitation deals with political issues -particularly Blairism in its twenty-page-long epilogue-
, it approaches the nineteen eighties from a rather metaphysical perspective, in spite of its
aforementioned explicitness. The orgy of sex and drugs the novel so aptly describes turns out