Honestly, Oscar Wilde was the original king of the "shitpost." If he were around today, his Twitter feed would be a chaotic masterpiece of irony and aestheticism. But since he lived in the late 19th century, we got The Importance of Being Earnest instead. It’s arguably the funniest play ever written in the English language.
Why? Because it’s a "trivial comedy for serious people." It’s a play about absolutely nothing. It’s about two guys, Jack and Algernon, who invent fake people so they can get out of boring social obligations. Jack has an imaginary brother named Ernest; Algy has an imaginary invalid friend named Bunbury. They’re basically just dodging brunch.
The play premiered on February 14, 1895, at the St James's Theatre in London. It was the height of Wilde's career. It was also the beginning of his absolute destruction. While the audience was howling at his jokes about cucumber sandwiches, the Marquess of Queensberry—the father of Wilde’s lover, Lord Alfred Douglas—was planning to humiliate him.
The Absolute Ridiculousness of Victorian Manners
Victorian society was obsessed with "earnestness." People took themselves incredibly seriously. They had rules for everything: how to drink tea, who to marry, how to mourn. Wilde looked at all of it and decided to make it look ridiculous.
In The Importance of Being Earnest, being "earnest" is the one thing no one actually does. Gwendolen and Cecily, the two lead women, are both obsessed with the idea of marrying someone named Ernest. Not a guy who is earnest (sincere), just a guy whose name is Ernest. It’s a literal pun that carries the entire plot.
Wilde uses a style called the comedy of manners. This isn't just about slapstick or easy gags. It’s about using language as a weapon. Every line is a polished diamond. Take Algernon’s take on marriage: "Divorces are made in Heaven." Or Lady Bracknell’s reaction to Jack being an orphan: "To lose one parent, Mr. Worthing, may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness."
It’s brutal. It’s fast. If you blink, you miss three insults that are disguised as compliments.
Why Lady Bracknell is the Greatest Villain in Literature
You can’t talk about this play without talking about Lady Bracknell. She is the gatekeeper of Victorian society. She represents the "Old Guard"—money, status, and a total lack of empathy for anyone who wasn't born in the right zip code.
When she interviews Jack to see if he’s a fit husband for Gwendolen, she doesn't ask about his character. She asks about his income and his politics. When she finds out he was found in a handbag in the cloakroom at Victoria Station, she’s disgusted. Not because he was abandoned, but because a handbag is an "unfashionable" place to be found.
She's iconic.
Many scholars, like Richard Ellmann in his definitive biography of Wilde, point out that Lady Bracknell is a caricature of the very people who were paying to see the play. Wilde was biting the hand that fed him, and he was doing it with such style that they didn't even realize they were the joke.
The Subversive Layer Nobody Talks About
Underneath the tea and the muffins, there’s something darker. "Bunburying."
Algernon calls the act of creating a double life "Bunburying." For a long time, people just thought this was a quirky plot device. But think about Wilde’s life. He was a gay man living in a society where his existence was illegal. He had to live a double life. He was married with kids while also frequenting the underground gay scene of London.
"The Importance of Being Earnest" is a play about the necessity of lying to survive. It’s a farce, sure, but it’s a farce born out of the tension of being a social outsider. When Jack says, "It is a very ungentlemanly thing to read a private pocket-book," he’s talking about privacy and the secrets we keep to protect ourselves.
The play isn't just "silly." It’s a survival guide disguised as a rom-com.
The Scandal That Killed the Show
The play was a massive hit. It should have run for years. Instead, it closed after 86 performances.
The Marquess of Queensberry showed up at the theater on opening night with a bouquet of rotting vegetables to throw at Wilde. He was barred entry, but the feud escalated. Wilde eventually sued for libel, which was a disastrous move. The evidence brought forward during the trials led to Wilde’s own conviction for "gross indecency."
He went from being the toast of London to a prisoner in Reading Gaol. His name was even scrubbed from the posters of the play while it was still running.
It’s heartbreaking.
The play is the peak of his wit, written right before the world crushed him for it. It makes the humor feel a bit more poignant when you realize the guy who wrote "Ignorance is like a delicate exotic fruit; touch it and the bloom is gone" was about to lose everything.
The Language of the Play
Wilde loved epigrams. An epigram is basically a short, witty statement that turns a common truth on its head.
- "The truth is rarely pure and never simple."
- "I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read in the train."
- "All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That’s his."
The dialogue doesn't sound like real people talking. It sounds like the smartest, most caffeinated version of people. It’s stylized. It’s "camp" before Susan Sontag ever defined the term.
Misconceptions about "The Importance of Being Earnest"
People think it’s a "period piece" that’s dusty and boring. It’s not.
If you watch a good production—like the 2002 movie with Colin Firth and Rupert Everett, or any pro-shot from the National Theatre—the pacing is more like a modern sitcom than a 130-year-old play. It’s basically Seinfeld with better outfits.
Another misconception is that it’s just a light comedy. It’s actually a scathing critique of the class system. Wilde is showing us that the "upper class" is built on nothing but hollow rituals and performative nonsense.
How to Actually Enjoy This Play Today
You don't need a PhD in English Lit to get the jokes. You just need to appreciate the art of the "burn."
If you're going to read it or watch it, pay attention to the food. The characters are constantly fighting over food—muffins, tea cake, cucumber sandwiches. In Wilde's world, food is a proxy for sex and power. When Gwendolen and Cecily get into a fight, they don't scream; they put too much sugar in each other's tea.
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It’s passive-aggressive mastery.
Key Takeaways for the Modern Reader
- Satire is timeless. The way Wilde pokes fun at influencers (the "Dandies" of his day) feels very relevant to our current obsession with personal branding.
- The "Bunbury" concept. We all have a "Bunbury." It’s our work persona vs. our home persona. It’s our finsta vs. our main feed.
- Style over substance. Wilde argued that how you say something is often more important than what you’re saying. In an age of 15-second TikToks, he was kind of a prophet.
Practical Steps for Engaging with Wilde’s Work
If this play sparked your interest, don't stop here. Here is how to actually dive deeper without feeling like you’re doing homework.
- Watch the 1952 Film. It stars Edith Evans as Lady Bracknell. Her delivery of the line "A handbag?" is legendary. It’s the gold standard for how the play should be performed.
- Read the Original Four-Act Version. The version most people know is three acts. Wilde’s editor forced him to cut it down. The four-act version has even more ridiculous subplots, including a scene where a debt collector tries to arrest Algernon.
- Listen to a Full Cast Audio Recording. Because the play is 90% dialogue, it works incredibly well as an "audiobook." L.A. Theatre Works has a great production.
- Visit the Oscar Wilde Statue in London. It’s near Trafalgar Square. It’s titled "A Conversation with Oscar Wilde," and it’s a great place to sit and think about why being "earnest" is overrated.
Wilde’s legacy isn't just a bunch of funny quotes on Pinterest. It’s the idea that we can use humor to survive a world that often feels rigid and unforgiving. He taught us that sometimes, the most serious thing you can do is refuse to be serious at all.
Check out the play. Look for the subtext. Laugh at the muffins. It’s what Oscar would have wanted.
Actionable Insight: Next time you’re stuck in a social situation you hate, remember "Bunbury." You don't have to be sincere; you just have to be witty. Or, better yet, just go read the play. It’s shorter than a movie and significantly funnier than whatever is trending on Netflix right now.
Research Note: For those interested in the historical accuracy of Wilde’s downfall, the primary source remains the trial transcripts from Regina v. Wilde. They offer a sobering contrast to the glittering dialogue of his final play. For a literary deep dive, Peter Raby’s "The Importance of Being Earnest: A Reader's Companion" provides excellent context on the social nuances of the 1890s that modern audiences might miss.
The play remains a staple of the repertoire for a reason. It’s perfect. It’s a mechanism of wit that hasn't aged a day, even if the society it satirized is long gone.