I think it has something to do with genius. Something being remarkably clever, and so absurdly brilliant, that for one moment, you're elevated to an almost divine plane of existence. That genius might express itself through remarkable insight, expert use of language, or wonderfully deviant pathways of thought - and Oscar's work, though more often invoking the first genre, incorporate aspects of all three sorts of genius.
It was his birthday last Sunday, and by a lucky coincidence, I happen to have just finished a collection of his works. I'm sitting here, trying to conjure up a reason to explain why I'm about to say I'm posting up Oscar-related materials here every day, for a week - I mean, wouldn't it be quite boring? - but the truth is that I just love the things he writes, and when you think something is brilliant, you want to tell everybody, whether or not they want to listen.
So here's my sort of tribute to my favourite Irish wit, more a personality and a philosopher than he is a writer - Oscar Wilde.
Happy Birthday.
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