Approaching the chattering Wildeans in the Chaplain’s Quad of Magdalen College, I was aware of my usual social anxiety. I had travelled from Wexford, Ireland, with a genuine interest. As an obscure novelist working on nineteenth-century historical fiction, I have spent the last year studying Oscar and Speranza. But this was the thirtieth anniversary lunch of the Oscar Wilde Society, and there have been so many books and scholarly works written on Oscar Wilde that I was certain that my relative ignorance would be swiftly exposed.