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72 February 1882 20. “Oscar Wilde” Cincinnati Enquirer, 21 February 1882, 4 Oscar Wilde, the aesthete, arrived in the city yesterday, and took up his quarters in Burnet House, where a representative of the Enquirer met him late yesterday afternoon. The original of “Bunthorne” was reclining on a fauteuil when our ambassador entered his apartments. He arose rather more quickly than poetic grace demanded, and with a pleasant smile extended his right hand and gave him a cordial greeting. In person he is very tall, with broad shoulders and a plethora of arms and legs—that is, he has the usual complements of limbs, but they appear longer and more loosely jointed than perfect accord with manly beauty requires. His face is long and narrow, and appears narrower than it really is on account of the length of his hair, which is light brown in color, is parted in the middle, and touches the shoulders like a dark flaxen mane. His eyes are large and light blue in color. Their outside corners are lower than the inside like a Chinaman’s, though they are far from being almond-shaped. His nose is long, large, and aquiline, and his mouth betrays his Hibernian origin, his lips being thick and the upper one so shut that his speech partakes somewhat of the character of a lisp. His teeth, especially, the upper ones, are long, large, and irregular. His chin is protuberant, and he has very high cheekbones. His sack coat and natty vest were of cobwebby grey velvet hue, with a cold gravy bloom; his trousers were light in color and loose and limp in make. His shoes were of patent leather, with buff gaiters, and his low-cut Byronic collar was encircled by a silk cravat that was tied in a sailor knot, and was between a Dunducketty grey and a dull pink in color. In the left lapel of his coat was a beautiful rosebud, and he held another in his left hand, whose delicate exhalations he ever and anon inhaled with evident rapture. Within easy reach stood a marble-topped table, on which was a vase containing four splendid calla lilies, whose faint perfume almost drowned the senses with olfactory delight. As soon as the greetings were over, and our guileless youth took the chair which was proffered him by Mr. Wilde, he began operations by remarking: “Mr. Wilde, I presume by this time you are sufficiently acquainted with the customs of this country to know that you are face to face with the ubiquitous interviewer?” “Oh, yes,” smilingly replied the aesthetic apostle, “and I am glad of it, for some of the brightest hours I have passed in this country have been with the gentlemen of the press who have interviewed me, and I have found them among the most intelligent men I have met here.” i-xii_1-196_Wild.indd 72 8/4/09 9:11:42 AM February 1882 73 “Taffy,”1 mentally ejaculated our reporter, and then said: “How long will you remain in the city?” “Only until morning. I am on my way to Louisville, where I will lecture tomorrow evening; then I go to Indianapolis, and on Thursday I return to this city and lecture here. Today I drove to the Rookwood pottery, with Mrs. George Ward Nichols,2 and inspected its work very closely.” “How did you like it?” “Some of it was very good, and much of it indifferent. On the whole I was very much pleased, as it showed what can be done for art even by one person , as in the case of Mrs. Nichols. There is one young man named Bowen3 at Rookwood who I am sure has true poetic art and fervor. His productions are wonderful, and he should be encouraged.” “I am going to tell you something that I fear will shock you,” said our scribe. “Shock me?” interrupted Oscar. “Yes,” was the reply. “Several years ago one of our most promising young artists was employed by a number of our merchants to make a series of pictures for the Vienna Exposition.4 He executed the commission, his pictures attracted great attention, and, I believe, received a medal. What do you think was their theme?” “Indeed, I can’t tell.” “Hog killing!” “Well, I don’t know but even that could be treated in an artistic manner. You see, there is no such thing as a poetic subject no more than that there is a natural school...

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