The Picture of Dorian Gray is a novel that is said to be without hidden meaning or symbolism. That proves to be false within the first sentence of the book. Dorian Gray is a young naive boy that has no need of a conscience; he does no wrong. He is the unmarked canvas of youth. Dorian meets Lord Henry Wotton while Dorian is sitting for a portrait. Basil Hallward seems to know that Lord Henry is not the greatest of influences and bids him adieu. Basil pleads him to stay, and Lord Henry obliges. This is the start of Dorian’s fall. Up until this point, Dorian has no apparent need of a conscience. This leads me to believe that the portrait is a sense of right and wrong for him throughout the book. The painting carries his burdens and weighs heavily on Dorian Gray’s mind. The painting becomes so laden with his sins that Dorian can hardly look at it, or rather, himself. Dorian’s wrongs are shown through the painting, just like a person’s conscience becomes blackened and heavy when wrongs are committed. “For every sin that he committed, a stain would fleck and wreck its fairness. But he would not sin. The picture, changed or unchanged, would be to him the visible emblem of conscience” (88). Dorian cannot bear the burden, and destroys the painting; the painting in turn destroys him.
There is another character in the novel that acts as a conscience of sorts. Basil Hallward is the “God” of the story. He is the seemingly perfect, all knowing character. As Dorian becomes progressively more tainted by his sins, he disassociates himself with Basil. When a person sins, they know that they are wrong, but he or she tries to hide from the wrongs. When a person knows exactly what he or she has done, the first instinct is to run from whoever that may be. In this case, it is Basil. A person’s conscience is just like that—the conscience knows all. A person may push his or her conscience to the back of his mind, but it never goes away. “He says things that annoy me. He gives me...