Constructing Wilde

Part 4

Three months later, Oscar and Frank were lounging in their sitting room having a bit of whisky and a long conversation about women, naturally, and the progress of Oscar's books. He was, as anticipated, doing fairly well, but the criticism that he was getting was rather harsh. Poor Oscar tried not to let it get to him, but when criticism as harsh as the stuff he was getting hit anyone, it never turned out pleasantly. Oscar, naturally, was no exception to this rule. While not the sort to indulge in meaningless drivel and wearisome whining about his lot, Oscar was feeling the effects of his whisky strongly, and he did feel rather sorry for himself — not an unusual response all things considered.

"I think you're doing famously for the first three months of publication, Oscar, old boy. What's there to be upset about? A bit of criticism? Bah! Those doddering old fools haven't a scrap of intelligence left to them, I say; I'm quite sure they spent it ages ago critiquing some other fellow as hapless as you," declared Frank, imbibing in his third glass of whisky; at the rate he threw them back, it was a wonder he wasn't slurring his words yet.

"It's more than that, Frank!" cried Oscar bleakly. "They're calling me insincere! Insincere, Frank... Surely they understand that insincerity is the very heart of the work I do? I mean, what would the world come to if every author and poet was sincere? No, no..." moaned he. "It can't happen; I mustn't let it happen to me, at any rate." He lapsed off into silence; staring down at his half-empty glass of whisky, he wondered if he oughtn't to have another. It was probably a poor idea, but he felt entitled considering all he was going through. He drained the last of it, satisfied with the burn of it as it slid down his throat; unfortunately, however, as was often wont to happen, life never did let him have that third glass of whisky on that night.

The door burst open; Frank's father, Canon Miles, burst into the room, his face ruddy with an unnatural, apoplectic rage, brandishing a small, bound book above his head. The two men sat up quickly; Frank's liquor sloshed about and spilled down his front.

"I say! I say!" stammered Frank. "Father, good heavens!" He started to get up, wobbled, and, on account of having drunk far more whisky than one ought, fell back into his chair.

Oscar stilled and stared up at Canon Miles as the man approached, his lips set in a grim line, still brandishing the little volume. Upon closer inspection, Oscar realized with a start that the object of Canon Miles' irate behavior was, in fact, his little volume of poems; swallowing back his anxiety, he tried to get up and face Frank's belligerent father. "I don't suppose you'd care to—"

"Sit down, sir!" roared Canon Miles. "And do us all a favor by shutting that dirty mouth of yours, why don't you?"

"But..."

"It wasn't a request!" shouted he, face reddening further as he pushed Oscar back into his seat.

Wide-eyed, Frank just shrugged when Oscar looked to him pleadingly; he hadn't the vaguest idea what his stubborn, unsavory father was on about either, and he, quite understandably, didn't dare voice the question.

As it was, he could not, unfortunately, escape his father's wrathful gaze. "Have you seen this Satanic book, Frank?" spat he.

Frank swallowed hard; and he cast a desperate look at Oscar, who avoided his gaze entirely. "I... Well, yes. I live in the same house as Oscar; I should think I've seen it. Why? Is something the matter with—"

"Is something the matter with it?" shouted Canon Miles, who really had the nastiest habit of interrupting others when he didn't like their opinions; most were of the opinion that he ought to learn some manners or, at the very least, have the decency to keep his mouth shut ninety-nine percent of the time. Of course, as Canon Miles was far too busy interrupting those who would've told him so and might have, perhaps, helped him to improve, he never heard wind of those opinions; therefore, he never did improve — a most unfortunate affair for his poor son and Oscar.