Stephen Fry ne aduce aminte cîteva bizarerii care dădeau farmecul personal al lui Wilde.
Tocmai acum pentru că Wilde s-a născut într-un 16 octombrie, iar Fry l-a jucat într-un film cu mulţi fani, Wilde.
Într-o zi legată de Wilde, pe lîngă interviul cu Fry, decupez o bucată dintr-o declaraţie de dragoste. E partea a doua din Two Lovers, poemul scris de Lord Alfred Douglas, iubitul lui, şi care a fost adus ca probă în procesul în care Wilde a fost condamnat la ani grei de puşcărie pentru ceea ce atunci s-a numit gross indecency. Poemul e despre o dragoste care pentru cei mai mulţi a părut vinovată şi deviată. Era the Love that dare not speak its name; o dragoste al cărei nume nu putea fi rostit, dragostea dintre doi oameni de acelaşi sex. Nu că azi am trăi un paradis al incluziunii şi al toleranţei tuturor diferenţelor.
And lo! within the garden of my dream
I saw two walking on a shining plain
Of golden light. The one did joyous seem
And fair and blooming, and a sweet refrain
Came from his lips; he sang of pretty maids
And joyous love of comely girl and boy,
His eyes were bright, and ‘mid the dancing blades
Of golden grass his feet did trip for joy;
And in his hand he held an ivory lute
With strings of gold that were as maidens’ hair,
And sang with voice as tuneful as a flute,
And round his neck three chains of roses were.
But he that was his comrade walked aside;
He was full sad and sweet, and his large eyes
Were strange with wondrous brightness, staring wide
With gazing; and he sighed with many sighs
That moved me, and his cheeks were wan and white
Like pallid lilies, and his lips were red
Like poppies, and his hands he clenched tight,
And yet again unclenched, and his head
Was wreathed with moon-flowers pale as lips of death.
A purple robe he wore, o’erwrought in gold
With the device of a great snake, whose breath
Was fiery flame: which when I did behold
I fell a-weeping, and I cried, ‘Sweet youth,
Tell me why, sad and sighing, thou dost rove
These pleasant realms? I pray thee speak me sooth
What is thy name?’ He said, ‘My name is Love.’
Then straight the first did turn himself to me
And cried, ‘He lieth, for his name is Shame,
But I am Love, and I was wont to be
Alone in this fair garden, till he came
Unasked by night; I am true Love, I fill
The hearts of boy and girl with mutual flame.’
Then sighing, said the other, ‘Have thy will,
I am the Love that dare not speak its name.’
Cred că pe lîngă lobbyul pro-dragoste, momentul mai suportă şi un shortlist personal cu cîteva wildisme preferate. Şi măcar un act dintr-o piesă cu multe dedesubturi, citită pe roluri, aşa, de-o distracţie. În caz că aveaţi chef să sărbătoriţi ceva şi nu găseaţi o temă.
Stephen Fry începe primul:
