As a novel deeply concerned with attributes – with appearances,
associations, material possessions, and influence – The Picture of Dorian Gray invites an understanding of its
characters, and particularly its protagonist, as actor-networks. Dorian sees
himself as “a complex multiform creature that bore within itself strange
legacies of thought and passion,” influenced and corrupted by art and
literature, by his friends, and by the actions and even the personalities of
his ancestors (Wilde 137). If corruption is one of the “action[s]…to be redistributed”
(Latour 2) through the actor-networks in the novel, desire is another: Dorian is
an object of desire for both Lord Henry Wotton and Basil Hallward, however
differently these two characters express it. For me, one of the many
interesting questions prompted by thinking of characters (and Dorian Gray in
particular) as actor-networks is, what does it do to view an object of desire
as an actor-network? How is the desire directed at an ostensibly self-contained
object redistributed - or not - to the other entities networked with that
object?
One answer that The
Picture of Dorian Gray proposes to this question is that actor-networks redistribute
the desire directed at one node of the network to other nodes. For Lord Henry,
for example, desire for Dorian becomes a desire for knowledge about Dorian’s family history (conceivably, Dorian’s
“network of production”). Henry demands of his uncle: “I want you to tell me about [Dorian's] mother. What was she
like? Whom did she marry? […] I am very much interested in Mr Gray at present”
(Wilde 34). Henry’s uncle obligingly relates a tragic history of forbidden
marriage, contracted murder, and death in childbirth, and Henry responds to
this story with something strangely like desire: “So that was the story of
Dorian Gray’s parentage…it stirred him
by its suggestion of a strange, almost modern romance” (37, my emphasis).
The novel also suggests that desire for an object
includes a desire to integrate that object into one’s own network of ideas and
associations (one’s own “network of production). Lord Henry becomes obsessed
with the idea of “influencing” Dorian, imagining that “the most satisfying joy”
left to the present (Victorian) age is “to project one’s soul into some
gracious form, and let it tarry there for a moment” (37) – an act not overtly
sexual, but still strangely intimate, embodied, and penetrative. All the
moments in which Henry introduces Dorian to the people, locations, and actions
that form nodes in his (Henry’s) own network are too numerous to review here; a
memorable example is “the yellow book,” which once exerted its “poisonous”
influence on Henry, and which Henry then presents to Dorian (121). Indeed, Henry
seems so obsessed with the thought of merging his and Dorian’s networks that he
retroactively incorporates attributes of Dorian’s
actor-network, such as Dorian’s fiancé Sibyl Vane, into his own: “It was
through certain words of his [Henry’s]…that Dorian Gray’s soul has turned to this white girl and
bowed in worship before her” (57). For Henry, desire seems to focus not solely
on an entity but on an entire actor-network.
But The
Picture of Dorian Gray offers a third possible relationship between desire
and networks, and that is a refusal,
like Basil Hallward’s, to understand an object of desire as an actor-network.
Basil’s desire for Dorian hinges on an image of Dorian as a monolithic totality,
remarkably unfragmented and unconnected. To Basil, Dorian is a “mere
personality” with the potential to “absorb my [Basil’s] whole nature, my whole
soul, my very art itself” (10). Significantly, Basil is introduced to Dorian
Gray by a woman who “quite forget[s] what [Dorian] does” and is “afraid he –
doesn’t do anything” (11); Dorian’s lack of
attributes is what leads “one [to feel] he had kept himself unspotted from the world”
– to which Lord Henry adds, “No wonder Basil Hallward worshipped him” (19).
Just as Henry is obsessed by the thought of influencing Dorian, Basil is
obsessed with keeping Dorian uninfluenced; he becomes “angry” when Henry begins
to mention the social circles in which Dorian circulates, and ends by begging
Henry: “Don’t spoil him. Don’t try to influence him” (16). Later, as their
friendship breaks under the strain of Henry’s influence, Basil confesses to
Dorian: “I wanted to have you all to myself” (110). Predicated as it is on a
fantasy of Dorian as an isolated and self-contained object, rather than an
actor-network, Basil’s desire for Dorian is doomed to failure.
Based on this text alone, I can't propose any over-arching pattern or broad insight that might arise from recognizing objects of desire as actor-networks. I think such a recognition does emphasize the idea that objects of desire are fragmented, not self-contained, and it suggests that desire is necessarily redistributed – though how much and in what ways remains ambiguous – to other entities in the actor-network. I’d love to hear other thoughts on this. In what ways is it useful or productive to think of desire as existing not between subjects and objects, but between actor-networks?
2 comments:
Megan,
Your question of how actor-network theory might transform an object of desire is provocative. I'm not sure how to answer it other than with another question: as we are ostensibly in the midst of the "network revolution," are we then experiencing desire somehow differently than before? As one whose "desire" as such came into being at the start of said revolution, I'm not sure what un-networked desire might feel like. If, as Latour argues, modern identity is defined not by what one is but by what one has, what does that mean for our experience of desire? Is it somehow more dispersed, less fixated and thus less acute? If we think of ourselves as both actors and attributes, our desire for actors/attributes would essentially be a desire for more of ourselves, wouldn't it? Sorry to provide more questions than answers.
Hi Megan,
Your reflections on objects of desire as a network was interesting because it provided a new interpretation of Latour's argument that "'to have' (friends, relations, profiles...) is quickly becoming a stronger definition of oneself than 'to be'"(7). I do wonder that even though the characters who desire Dorian seek ways to network themselves to him, do they see a larger network in which they are constituents, or do they only care for the network they have with him? In that way, as a variation of Sarah's question, can one consciously become networked to others without desire? I also wonder, if networks reveal traits of the characters (which is a latent claim in your post) are there different attributes revealed in networks filled with desire and those lacking that? I am curious about these questions given that your post provides examples of cases when networks are actively curated, whereas in Latour's essays, networks seem to be there and are not sites of conscious effort or active awareness like those in Dorian Gray .
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