This text was originally submitted as the final project for ENG3462A Pre-Raphaelite to Decadent: The English End-of-the-Century literature course (Spring 2026) with Professor Olga Nikolova.
LETTER I
Blagoevgrad, April 2nd, 2026
Dear friend,
The other day I was walking down the road by the river, looking at the big trees bending down, as if wanting to soak their blooming branches in the cold water rushing through, and I thought of how different the view was here from where you are now. Here, there are such things as leafless trees and snow in winter and gray skies half the year. I also thought that I hadn’t reached out to you in a while.
As it is spring, the season of birth, I felt like it was a good time to rekindle this friendship of ours. We left things on complicated terms, which filled my mind with a lot of questions about relationships and about how messy they were. How, when acting in some way, someone else gets affected, for better or for worse. I guess this is what philosophers call responsibility and awareness – not only toward other humans, but also to the world we’re inhabiting. For it is true that nature and other creatures are implicated in this realm of actions and the search for flourishing.
And so, we live in a world full of relationships – but the fact that right now there’s silence between you and me, set my mind wondering on their quality. I mean, how are we relating to others, to animals, to nature? What is the quality of our link? I’d say it’s poor. It’s full of misunderstandings and domination and individuality. This says a lot about the morality of our time – the degradation of it. We preach about progress and advancement, but we always leave vulnerable groups behind. I think there’s not much morality, there is the quest for power. I remember you told me once that we should be kinder – it’s not until now that I see the meaning of your words.
I should have been kinder to you, but why was it so hard? Detachment and distance seemed so much easier and immediate. I mentioned before the degradation of morals. What I meant was that we have lost focus on life and what makes life worth living. We have magnified profit over integrity, competence over vital connections, pollution over dignity, some lives over others…
Going back to that sorrowful day, social pressure grew heavy on me and, suddenly, I saw you with different eyes – with the eyes of strangers. They considered you weird, extravagant; they would get awkward around you…when you just were being honest. Being yourself. You had something that’s not shown much these days: vulnerability. You exposed your truth so bluntly, without restrictions or shame. But, my friend, I was the one who was ashamed. I didn’t want to be tagged, to be considered like you. It was like all that mattered was to fit into these ideas, based on culture, traditions, stereotypes that dictate who we should be, how we should look, and who we should hang out with. I didn’t question them. I guess I just wanted to belong with what society considered “normal”, which was pretending, erasing my personality, blending in, averting my eyes, losing myself. Now I see that beneath my shame, what made me drift away from you was fear. You were already inspiring me to be my true self – to discover the ever-changing shades and colors of my soul, to relish in the surprise and love for everything I was. I had to flee – or at least it felt like a necessity. You see, vulnerability is the scariest thing of all. The possibility of being hurt, humiliated, or rejected just for being who you are…if they try to take that away from you, then what’s left?
I’m trying to find some clarity about my own soul. I read this thing about art having a moral purpose… I don’t know. I’ll delve into this later, for now I am tired.
LETTER II
Blagoevgrad, April 9th, 2026
Dear friend,
Where do we start?
It’s not only a matter of wanting to change – the question is if we can. We need a guide, something that would show us the possibilities, something that would make us try – to discover what can be done.
You may think this is a strange response, but I believe that in order to advocate for another way of doing things, another way of living, another world, we need art. The only way to improve is, first, accept the world as it is now; second, “negate” it through art. I mean: to dream, to question, to criticize, to imagine what it could be – even if it seems foolish or impossible. In art everything is possible. And third, the resolution – art can enable a change of attitude, of action, a direction. Art can inspire us to try – to act. It anchors the fantastic world to the real one, creating a bridge and sharing the message to anyone open to see and feel.
LETTER III
Blagoevgrad, April 14th, 2026
Dear friend,
Today was a real spring day, like those we have most of the year back home. Where nature has the chance to grow – among the concrete of the city – it is now green and colorful. Life is taking root again: the trees are blooming, slowly but steadily, the water flowing fast in the river is ice blue and bugs are buzzing in the air.
Lately, I have spent more time contemplating nature. You see, there’s this English writer. I don’t know if you’ve heard of him – his name is John Ruskin. You may wonder why I brought him into the conversation. I finished my previous letter indicating three steps to transform the world we have into a moral one through art. Well, Ruskin offered me the path. He starts with education. Before mulling over art, we need to get to know the world we’re standing in – we need to see it. It’s a certain kind of sight, related to our soul: “sight [is] a distinctly spiritual power, and … its kindness or tenderness [is] proportioned to its clearness.”[i] By this, Ruskin implies that the clearer we see things, more kindness or tenderness we feel. A nurtured, cultivated soul would find delight and worth in all forms of life – contrary to those who harm or kill, for they can’t see – they can’t understand beauty.
In other words, the aim of education is to train our capacity to “rejoice rightly”[ii] in the things that are worthy to love, and admire beautiful things. And that is to have good taste. For it is not enough to do the right things, if we don’t find pleasure while doing them: “[T]he entire object of true education is to make people not merely do the right things, but enjoy the right things.”[iii] There has to be congruency between our thoughts and actions so that we can possess the right moral state. Here, I’m encountered with two questions: what things are beautiful and what are the right things to do?
For Ruskin, if we were well educated and formed into a moral character, we would know. The things that deserve love inspire joy and admiration. Works of art embody the “delight in the perpetual contemplation of a good and perfect thing”[iv] – those that lie in truth and authenticity, revealing “the great spirit-truths of nature”;[v] and our actions are good when they sprout from kindness. Therefore, education, taste and morality are linked together – there can’t be one without the other. If the education we receive is grounded in kindness, compassion and contemplation of the world around us – the study of its shapes and forms, its lines and limits – we sharpen our perception of how life moves and creates. How life lies in the river and the bird and the person. In every expression of the world Ruskin sees God’s gift – that is, he approaches the world with veneration towards a superior intelligence.[vi]
As for me, I don’t understand God as a divine figure – but as an inherent value pulsating underneath all. A mystical current that gives worth and dignity to everything. And when I see it, I’m filled with this warm yet shocking knowledge: we all matter, we all fit in this world – our existences don’t have to battle for room, because there’s room for everyone and everything. I am swarmed by feelings of joy, admiration and gratitude for what is out there, for what is alive – and in this emotional state, my actions reflect kindness.[vii]
But the current only appears when I glimpse at the truth of things – when I see them as they are and not as I want them to be. At the end, things are valuable for being what they are, instead of presenting an appearance or a false image – “mere imitation.”[viii] From the root of truth, beautiful things bloom – those with the quality of ‘loveliness’.[ix] I was able to hurt you, my friend, because I refused to see you as you are – accept what made you lovely. When we love something, we try to take care of it and protect it. What we love, we cherish and we try to understand. We accept it, “however imperfect.”[x]
Now, to understand something, we study it. And art is studying.
When studying – in an open, caring way – we sink into a state of wonder. And art is the canvas through which we can express this feeling – or rather, these feelings that wrap around wonder: of understanding, contemplation, kindness, life. For Ruskin, art is the expression of what is true and beautiful and lovely – what is good.[xi] But here is the important thing: it is not a matter of doing something ‘lovely’ or ‘beautiful’; rather doing something because we enjoy it and we’re looking to portray its truth – sincerely, eagerly, genuinely. Through art we’re looking to convey what the world is telling us – we’re quickeningly aware of nature surrounding us, holding us, embracing us. And it’s a beautiful feeling – to be alive, and wonder how something this grand, this majestic exists – why it is here, what it has to teach me, what it means.
I think art is the softest way of being in the world – as opposed to the modern methods of exploitation, utilitarianism, and domination – and still so powerful. Nature is valuable in itself – and depicting it through our own authentic impression, genuinely, we accept the world as it is.
Also, the intention matters – the artist’s purpose. If they intended to paint a picture, for example, with no intention to illustrate a moral lesson or depict truthfully what they wanted to say, then that’s not art. Art has to teach and be authentic. In the painting, the artist pours their heart – their truth. The viewer, on the other hand, sees on the canvas what is already inside of them. Therefore, “the men who see – and who by their representations make others see what they see themselves, are true artists.”[xii] Their work becomes “revelations, … in the highest sense, educative.”[xiii] I believe that if we’re able to glimpse compassion and kindness in the shades and figures portrayed, we know what kindness looks like. Once in our minds, once we have the idea of it, then we can translate it into actions.
So here they rest, the three steps of art – we accept the world by contemplating it to know the truth of what expands before our eyes; we express our morality through art and hope for an impact on the viewer; and if art meets its moral end, the message will spread into kind, just actions, as well as the taste for them. For Ruskin, “art is only art – tasteful – because it is moral.”[xiv] We ask “for better things to be reached hereafter, whether by ourselves or others […] according to our proper power.”[xv] That is, whatever we can do to contribute, this is our duty.
But there’s an aspect I disagree with, when Ruskin says that art can only depict beautiful scenes – because in their truth, they’re beautiful. He illustrates his point mentioning a painting by Teniers “of sots quarrelling over their dice: it is an entirely clever picture […] it is also an entirely base and evil picture. It is an expression of delight in the prolonged contemplation of a vile thing, and delight in that is an ‘unmannered’, or ‘immoral’ quality. It is ‘bad taste’ in the profoundest sense – it is the taste of the devils.”[xvi]
It makes me wonder, if art has a moral purpose – shouldn’t it let us know what things to avoid and move on from? Depictions of vice and cruelty can make us reaffirm the reasons we should stay away from such things – why change may be good and why we should never get back into some situations. Art encapsulates lessons of old and immortalizes them for us to reflect through the centuries to come. Through art we make it possible to upgrade to care and kindness.
Perhaps what bothers Ruskin is that the painting is made in a way that triggers delight over its vile content: instead of inspiring rejection of such behavior, it preaches it. For Ruskin, art is only the illustration of beautiful, good, virtuous things – and finding delight in these marks our sense of morality.
But in “ugly” scenes I can reflect on my mistakes – I can go back to the moments where I did wrong. Here, I find a different author for another day…
LETTER IV
Blagoevgrad, April 18th, 2026
Dear friend,
I keep thinking about the vile, ugly scenes Ruskin refuted.
He says that when we learn to see, we find things beautiful. So, are there really any ugly things? When our soul is rooted in kindness and we possess an honest wish to express ourselves as we are, we create art. And ugly scenes can have their place when we’re trying to tell a moral story – to warn others what we should avoid or improve. The beautiful rests in seeing these lessons. If we rejoice in the evil act – this shows a corrupted morality, a bad taste. And what is evil? Something that, instead of giving more life, takes it away.
The other day I was reading this book The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. I don’t know if you would like it, but it depicts a society very similar to the one we have today – one that relishes in appearances and material luxury, where “people know the price of everything and the value of nothing.”[xvii] Everyone has to look pleasant and talk about trivial things. When it gets too serious – we need to find a way to lighten the burden: we distract ourselves with pleasures and entertainment.
How easy it would be for each of us to cleanse our consciousness – to give up remorse and regret and guilt! To live free from that which dictates what’s right and what’s wrong, our soul – and instead, only pursue our pleasures, our selfish wishes. This is Dorian’s resolve: “Eternal youth, infinite passion, pleasures subtle and secret, wild joys and wilder sins – he was to have all these things.”[xviii] We can see through this character how unrestrained devotion to personal desire leads to moral corruption, lack of responsibility, and ultimately self-destruction.[xix] Dorian tries to escape life. But when we don’t make ourselves responsible for our actions and their effects, we become callous, numb to life’s spark. Take me, for example. Life stopped making sense, stopped feeling real and substantial, because I gave up my autonomy. Life is about choices, and I chose to give up myself to belong with others who never tried to see me and rarely cared for true things.
Through his portrait, Dorian glimpses at the state of his own soul – this means that art works as a moral indicator, if we dare to face it: the picture “held the secret of his life, and told his story. It had taught him to love his own beauty. Would it teach him to loathe his own soul? Would he ever look at it again?”[xx] Consequences are frightening, but the answer is not at the other extreme – to give up every pleasure. It is rather in deliberation: “If, in the pursuit of one’s desires and of the beautiful aspects of life, the condition of others’ or of one’s own intellect is jeopardized, the enjoyment garnered must sometimes be sacrificed for the greater good.”[xxi]
Are we, as society, deliberating our pleasures and profit?
Every day it gets harder to relish in nature – for apparently it gets in the way of the city’s growth. I could enjoy the buildings’ façades, but they are born from “cold mechanism.”[xxii] They’re soulless. I cannot find a human touch in them, only attempts to erase all marks of humanity, that is, all quirks and irregularities.[xxiii] There’s no personality, just the “dead perfection” of mechanical reproduction.[xxiv] This is what Ruskin was against in our modern architecture. If what matters is the expression of the soul, our cities have strived the other way. “All good architecture is the expression of national life and character; and it is produced by a prevalent and eager national taste, or desire for beauty”[xxv] – so it makes me wonder, where did that desire for beauty go?
Look at the buildings around us – do you find any delight in them? Do you feel overwhelmed by joy and inspiration? The way we do things says a lot about us. Do we like where we are? Do we feel gladness standing here? What kind of society are we living in?
I would call this “dead perfection” an ugly scene. And it is everywhere. If our expressions show the state of our soul, the love we’re giving to the world is fading out. Now I see more than ever the necessity and urgency of “true art”[xxvi] – where our expressions fight to become authentic, not imitation; full of soul, not shallow; not perfect, but true; not deafening, but thoughtful. I call this resistance, defiance, transgression.
This is what remains. Because even if we know which values we should pursue – being respectful, kind, empathetic – in most of the cases, the final word is dictated by capitalism, where the expectations are to excel, compete, produce, consume, follow fashions. Therefore, being yourself in a society that makes it very hard to like who you are – throwing at you images of perfection, of everything you’re not – is the most powerful form of resistance. Of love. Of being human. Wilde wrote, “All art is immoral,”[xxvii] meaning that art lies out of the order of this world – it sweeps us away from this dimension through its dream-like quality, its fantasy, its infinity – and we can defy what it is now. We can attempt to change the degradation of the world into Ruskin’s “happy refuge” for all creatures.[xxviii] Art expands life: we can criticize and imagine another way. By inspiring other people and having an impact – we can test if our views for a better world are actually possible through actions. These are the last two steps of transformation.
And as with any impact and actions, they come with responsibility. We need to be careful with our expressions, with what we’re sharing to others – for we never know its effect until it takes place. Even when the work of art may not be accountable for its impact, the people involved in its viewing are: “If Wilde is saying art cannot be judged, he is saying man is judged instead.”[xxix]
Art exerts an influence on the culture it is part of. It has an effect that “can only be to the good, not because art instructs people to be good or because art illuminates the rarely seen connection between God and man, but because art makes of people sentient, emotional, sympathetic beings whose consciousness of beauty diminishes their capacity for meanness.”[xxx] Wilde’s thoughts converge with Ruskin’s feelings of “joy, admiration and gratitude.”[xxxi] Art moves us emotionally, not just individually but collectively: “A nation which enjoys an awareness of beauty will be less destructive and more creative than a nation which knows only commerce.”[xxxii]
Therefore, art has a moral purpose.
LETTER V
Blagoevgrad, April 20th, 2026
Dear friend,
I still get confused sometimes… what if the things I consider worthy of love are different than yours? What if I see good in the things you don’t? Is one of us wrong? Is one of us immoral? Tasteless? What if our gazes are grounded in kindness but not toward the same things? Who is properly educated?
Morality is not about oppressing the other with our truth – which would be the easiest way to get to an “agreement” – but rather, it sets the path for both of us to show up and communicate. Art doesn’t tell us what to believe, what to do, what to follow – it leaves us room to question, to ponder, to reflect on what we are contemplating. The artist says what they want to say – now it’s up to us to think, learn and shape our actions.
I mentioned that life is about choices. We need to realize where we are going to, what we want to build and what we are willing to fight for. In other words, we need to have a degree of self-knowledge. By knowing who we are we can express ourselves genuinely – this is the way to do art for Ruskin. But also, for Oscar Wilde. Authenticity comes from making things in your own manner – and to do this, not only creativity is necessary, but “the critical element in all creative work.”[xxxiii]
Ruskin says: “This function of the imagination […] is threefold: Associative, or the power to create new forms through combination; penetrative, or the power to apprehend; and contemplative, or the mode in which the associative and penetrative faculties work.”[xxxiv]
Wilde says: “Without the critical faculty, there is no artistic creation at all”[xxxv] – we need it to select the shapes and forms we want to express. “That spirit of choice, that subtle tact of omission, is really the critical faculty […] and no one who does not possess [it] can create anything at all in art.”[xxxvi]
Ruskin and Wilde agree on the critical faculty, on the importance of making choices about what we want to create and how. “All fine imaginative work is self-conscious and deliberate,”[xxxvii] which means that when doing something – commit to it, be in it. To live is to choose how we are going to unfold ourselves in the creation we’re doing, and do it proudly. Art is a choice: to see, to learn, to say our truth, to be kind – and to shape the way we’re going to do it.
What world do I want to contribute to make – together, since great things are never made alone?
This is the moral world I want to live in…
Where people don’t get rejected or oppressed, where we choose open communication, understanding, kindness and respect. Even if it’s harder, effort is what makes the journey worthwhile. As I see it, we can keep blending in for fear of… what? Being rejected, judged, unloved, humiliated, of being seen as we are. Or we can choose life. And what is it to choose life? It’s to accept what has been given to us and do something with it – do something with our existence. It’s to embrace who we are and who we will become – and to never close the question, because there’s still so many things to find out, so many things to live for and rejoice in. To choose life is to choose humanity, living creatures and nature – and cohabitate in search of a better world. We all can stand here; we just need to ponder how – through morality and ethics.
I want to be seen as I am, and be loveable because of that, not for a false image of myself. If I am to be loved, then let it be earnestly. I want to follow a morality that cares for authentic and real people; for kind and careful actions; for all forms of life over profit. I don’t want to strive for perfection – I just want to be human.
I would like to meet up with you when I get back home. Let me know if you’d like to, too.
Best wishes,
Footnotes:
[i] John Ruskin. “Lecture IX. The story of the Halcyon.” The Eagle’s Nest: Ten Lectures on the Relation of Natural Science to Art, Given Before the University of Oxford in Lent Term, 1872, pars. 172-179. Pre-Raphaelite to Decadent, 23 Jan. 2026, AUBG. Class handout. par. 172.
[ii] Ibid. par. 177.
[iii] Ruskin, “Traffic.” The Crown of Wild Olive, 1866. Pre-Raphaelite to Decadent, 23 Jan. 2026, AUBG. Class handout.
[iv] Ibid.
[v] Marshall Mather. “Chapter VII. Art.” John Ruskin, his life and teaching. Frederick Warne & Co., 1901, pp. 114-127, p. 126.
[vi] Yuichi Shionoya. “RUSKIN’S ROMANTIC TRIANGLE: NEITHER WEALTH NOR BEAUTY BUT LIFE.” History of Economic Ideas, vol. 22, no. 1, 2014, pp. 15–49. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/43924191. Accessed 11 Apr. 2026. p. 22
[vii] Ibid.
[viii] Mather 116.
[ix] Ruskin, Traffic.
[x] Mather 120.
[xi] Ibid.
[xii] Ibid. 116.
[xiii] Ibid. 126.
[xiv] Jeremy Tambling. “INTERRUPTED TRAFFIC: READING RUSKIN.” The Modern Language Review, vol. 105, no. 1, 2010, pp. 53–68. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/25655133. Accessed 11 Apr. 2026. p. 64.
[xv] Shionoya 26.
[xvi] Ruskin, Traffic.
[xvii] Wilde, Oscar. The Picture of Dorian Gray. Alma Classics, 2024, p. 45.
[xviii] Ibid. 97.
[xix] Duggan, Patrick. “The conflict between aestheticism and morality in Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray.” WR: Journal of the Arts & Sciences Writing Program, 2009, pp. 60-68. https://www.bu.edu/writingprogram/files/2009/11/wrjournal1duggan.pdf. Accessed 11 Apr. 2026. p. 61.
[xx] Wilde 85.
[xxi] Duggan 67.
[xxii] Mather 116.
[xxiii] John Ruskin. “Chapter VI. The Nature of Gothic.” The Stones of Venice. Volume II. Second, or Gothic, Period, 1851, pars. I-LXV. Pre-Raphaelite to Decadent, 3 Feb. 2026, AUBG. Class handout. par. VIII.
[xxiv] Mather 116.
[xxv] Ruskin, Traffic.
[xxvi] Mather 116.
[xxvii] Oscar Wilde. “The Critic as Artist: part I, with some remarks upon the importance of discussing everything; part II, with some remarks upon the importance of doing nothing.” 1891, pp. 1-11. Pre-Raphaelite to Decadent, 24 & 27 Mar. 2026, AUBG. Class handout. p, 7.
[xxviii] Ruskin, The Eagle’s Nest, par. 179.
[xxix] Jessica M. Brophy. “The Unspoken Solidarity Between Ruskin and Wilde.” The Wildean, no. 45, 2014, pp. 102–112. JSTOR, https://www.jstor.org/stable/48569600. Accessed 10 Apr. 2026. p, 10.
[xxx] John Allen Quintus. “The Moral Implications of Oscar Wilde’s Aestheticism.” Texas Studies in Literature and Language, vol. 22, no. 4, 1980, pp. 559–574. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/40754628. Accessed 10 Apr. 2026. p, 570.
[xxxi] Shionoya 22.
[xxxii] Quintus 569.
[xxxiii] Wilde, The Critic 2.
[xxxiv] Mather 125.
[xxxv] Wilde, The Critic 2.
[xxxvi] Ibid.
[xxxvii] Ibid. 3.
