Notes

Context:
JLB 160, 11/1/1880: "As regards mediocre artists, to whose ranks you think I should not want to belong, what shall I say? That depends on what one calls mediocre."

A few weeks later, to Anthon van Rappard, he describes some landscapes in his collection of prints that "I've always liked ... even if they're regarded as old-fashioned" (JLB 273, 10/22/1882). And in another letter to his friend a few days later, he openly mocks his brother's criticism: "I've heard [images like this] dismissed by people who pass for first-rate connoisseurs with a 'yes, well, that's the old-fashioned manner'" (JLB 279, 11/1/1882). Invoking his beloved English illustrators, he goes on to defend his drawings in the direct way he could not with Theo: "that brings us to what H.H. [Hubert von Herkomer] means. The old manner of engraving, that solid, honest, uncontrived drawing, is by far the best. Herkomer says: be careful, don't let that be lost." (ibid.) In a letter to Theo soon thereafter, he returns to the argument in a defiant tone: "although I can't help admiring what they make now, the old landscapes in a more old-fashioned manner always give me pleasure when I see them. ... the new, although it takes someone in, doesn't always continue to make the same strong, moving impression over time." (JLB 280, 11/5/1882.)

By the end of November, his tone has grown more combative, even sarcastic, suggesting that the earlier criticism has not ceased to rankle: "It's easier to say ... 'Oh, that's the old manner, we don't need that', than to replace the old manner by something equivalent, let alone something better. And since many reason like [Hendrik Willem] Mesdag these days, without giving it any further thought, it can do no harm if others do reflect on whether we are in the world to pull down rather than to build up. The phrase 'not needed any more' -- how eagerly people use it and what a stupid and ugly phrase it is. I believe that in a certain fairy tale Andersen puts it in the mouth not of a person but of an old pig. People who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. ... I fear, Theo, that it will come about that many who have sacrificed the old for the sake of the new will deeply regret it. Especially in the realm of art." (JLB 286, 11/24/1882; emphasis in original.)

Just as Theo used particular artists and works to make arguments to Vincent about the new art, Vincent continued to defend "old-fashioned" art with examples of his own. The large number and huge range of the examples he cites suggest the fervor of his feeling on this issue: Émile Adélard Breton, Théodore Rousseau, Jan van Goyen, "Old Crome" (John Crome), Georges Michel, Jacob van Ruisdael, Isaac van Ostade, Antoine Chintreuil, Raymond Eugène Goethals, Camille Bernier, Marie Collart, Jules Dupré, Edwin Edwards, and "Lavieille" (Eugène Antoine Samuel Lavieille or Jacques Adrien Lavieille) (all JLB 291, 12/4/1882-12/9/1882).

Regarding two drawings Vincent did in December (JH281, the other unknown) he declared them "most decidedly in what one might call an old-fashioned sentiment" (JLB 294, 12/13/1882-12/18/1882). In May 1883, at least six months after Theo lodged the original complaint, Vincent is still replaying and rebutting it. Referring to a picture by Henri Leys, Vincent writes pointedly: "It isn't that movement, though, that's the order of the day at present, but the sentiment in it is something eternal, and one can conceive reality, nature, in different ways, and even now recognize what was perhaps sought and felt more generally in Leys's time than it is today" (JLB 347, 5/30/1883). And in July, he writes, still defiant of his brother's criticism: "Among the figures of types from the people that I did there are several with a certain, what many would call old-fashioned, character, also in the approach" (JLB 361, 7/11/1883). Strangely, in almost all non-artistic contexts, Vincent uses the phrase "old-fashioned" in a pejorative sense, especially in describing his parents and their "prejudices" (JLB 186, 11/18/1881). 

Context:
JLB 272, 10/15/1882: "I agree with what you say about the small drawings -- namely, that the one of the bench is done more in the old-fashioned way. Yet I did that more or less deliberately, and may well do it more."

The criticism obviously weighed heavily on Vincent, as he carried it into his resumption of painting in the summer of 1883, referring to the "dry manner" in which he had painted figures the previous summer -- "drawing first and then filling in the outline" -- and apologizing for one of his current drawings (in paint): "the drawing isn't right as it is now, for it's too dry and too meagre" (JLB 370, 8/3/1883). He returns to the criticism twice more before leaving for Drenthe in September: "I've often tried to work less drily, but each time it came out roughly the same" (JLB 371, 8/7/1883); and, "As to the work, what is becoming increasingly clear to me in everything since it caught my attention is the meagreness of the execution" (JLB 375, 8/18/1883). In one very clever turn, he employs the conceit of a desert to blame the dryness of his work on Theo's meager allowance: "But it's [the dryness] out of my hands. If I don't have a little extra on occasion, I have to pay out so much each time when I receive the normal amount that not much is left for the 10 days that lie ahead, on the last of which one walks along the road with a very weak and faint feeling in the stomach. And then one of those sandy roads in the dunes begins to resemble a desert." (JLB 365, 7/23/1883.) 

Context:
JLB 370, 8/3/1883: "the drawing isn't right as it is now, for it's too dry and too meager."

Context:
JLB 298, 1/3/1883: "This is only a beginning -- later you'll get fine things from me, old chap! For the time being, let me know whether you think some of the objections to using pencil alone could be removed somewhat by using crayon as well."

Context:
JLB 363, 7/22/1883: "You say that the effect of the autographs is rather meagre. That doesn't surprise me in the least when I consider that someone's physical state influences his work, and my life is too dry and too meagre."

Context:
BVG 230, 9/11/1882: "Well, I hope this little bench, though perhaps not yet saleable, will show you that I am not averse to choosing subjects sometimes which are pleasant or attractive and, as such, will find buyers sooner than things of a more gloomy sentiment."
JLB 262, 9/11/1882: "Well, I hope that the small bench, even if not yet saleable, will show you that I have nothing against tackling subjects with something agreeable or pleasant about them, which are thus more likely to find buyers than things with a more sombre sentiment."

So far, this sounds like an affectionate claim of solidarity with Theo. But Vincent goes on to turn it into yet another convoluted, even supercilious plea for Theo to reconsider his career: "Many can't help it that they aren't deep enough, and act in good faith, in so far as they have good faith. Yet I believe you'll admit (the more so since it's a question here of something that isn't your own sphere, although it does concern you somewhat) that it's a fact that if many a landscape painter who is now highly rated knew half what you know of sound ideas about the outdoors, with which you're naturally familiar, he would produce much better and sounder work. Think this over, and put this and many more things besides in the balance when, weighing yourself, you say things like, 'I would only be something mediocre'. Unless you mean mediocre in its good, noble sense." (ibid.) What Vincent thinks he means by this is not clear, but he appears to suggest that Theo will never be better than a mediocre dealer, whereas he could be an exceptional landscapist. How he develops this bizarre notion to its obsessive, irrational extreme will be discussed in the next chapter. 

This is an odd excuse because elsewhere Vincent writes proudly about the speed at which he works and advertises it as one of the salient characteristics of his working style and his art. Here, he seems to be lamenting that he has to work so fast and therefore can't take the time to make the drawings more elaborate. This strikes us as an argument of convenience, ginned up to address one of Theo's primary criticisms at a time when he, Vincent, is spending inordinately on his soup kitchen preparations. Later in the same letter, he comes back to this criticism, obviously determined to allay Theo's concerns by dedicating himself to addressing it: "I must become much more skilled than I am if I'm to be at all content with myself. And I hope that gradually I'll work more deftly and more elaborately in the same amount of time that I now devote to it." (ibid.; emphasis added.)

Only a week or two later, he returns to the subject. In a barrage of excuses and apologies for his work, he pledges himself to make more elaborate images -- i.e., images that have details and background and setting. Referring to the letter sketch of a drawing he has done, he writes, "here there's now no foreground at all -- at any rate in the actual study there's a little more; ... Then perhaps it would become a composition breadthways, and the figure would be in its setting and in its place. If I did all that in the study itself, the figure would be so small that it would be of no use to me as a serious study for the figure. Believe me, the appearance isn't a tough job, if my studies are good I'm very calm about that point. And Space, Sky, breadth -- don't think that I rationalize them away." (JLB 331, 3/21/1883; emphasis in original.)

From a later letter, it appears that this criticism was one of Theo's earliest of Vincent's work. In May 1883, Vincent writes about some early drawings : "Do you remember that in the very beginning I once sent you sketches of a sort, 'Winter Tale', Shadows passing, etc.? You said at the time that you thought the action of the figures was insufficiently expressed -- do you remember?" (JLB, 5/30/1883; emphasis in original.) It is not clear what images Vincent is referring to, whether they were done in the Borinage in 1880, or in Brussels or Etten in 1881, or if they have survived. They could be the two sketches that Vincent sent to Theo along with letter JLB 162, January 1881) En Route (F none JH Juv. 15) and Before the Hearth (F none JH Juv. 16) (JLB 347, n. 3). 

Context:
JLB 326, 3/6/1883: "Although the accompanying sketch is very unfinished, it seemed to me that there could be things in it that corresponded with your intention -- and again it's a sketch from life. Don't think that I count it a quality if there isn't enough fullness of detail. Far from it. But the fullness of detail that both you and I would like to see doesn't consist in details added later, I believe, but should be more present at once than it is now."

Context:
BVG 273, 3/6/1883: "But of course I shall try to bring more variation into the tones. 'Y mettre des détails' leaves me rather cool, but 'dégrossit' [take away the coarseness] is certainly my aim, that is, 'serrer la forme de plus près' [concentrating the form more firmly]."
JLB 326, 3/6/1883: "However, I'll naturally work at getting more variation in the tones. I'm relatively indifferent to putting in details, but removing more of the rough edges is definitely my aim. That's to say, keeping closer to the form."

Theo also pushed two landscapists that had long been joint favorites of the brothers: Georges Michel (JLB 312, 2/11/1883), a proto-Barbizon painter even more celebrated for his many views of the countryside from Montmartre, and Jules Dupré (JLB 361, 7/11/1883), one of the giants of the Barbizon school. At the same time he suggested Ciceri, Theo proposed Léon Lhermitte as a model for Vincent to emulate. Vincent takes up this suggestion, by contrast, with great enthusiasm, largely because Lhermitte's reputation was primarily as a draftsman and illustrator. There is much back-and-forth about Lhermitte in the brothers' letters and the artist became one of Vincent's favorites (he referred to him as "MILLET II" [JLB 528, 8/18/1885; emphasis in original]). Theo might have hoped that Vincent could emulate the Frenchman's exquisite draftsmanship and he may have associated Vincent's aspirations with Lhermitte's monumental series of works on the life of the peasant laborer, the second of which, Harvester's Payday, had just been exhibited at the Salon in 1882. Theo may also have known (but surely Vincent didn't) that in 1879 Degas invited Lhermitte to exhibit with the Impressionists (although he never participated in any of their shows). 

Context:
JLB 327, 3/11/1883: "While for your part you say you sometimes long for us to be able to talk rather more about various things in art, for my part I feel that longing constantly, and on occasion very strongly. I would so often dearly like to know your opinion about this or that -- about some studies &c., for example whether they might be made into something suitable, or whether it was advisable to press on with something for one purpose or another."

Context:
JLB 322, 3/2/1883: "I like watercolour enough never to abandon it completely, I mess about with it constantly."

Context:
JLB 305, 1/27/1883: "But for the time being I believe that both he and I must do our best at thorough study of the figure; the more one has mastered that the more attainable such plans become."

Context:
JLB 288, 11/26/1882-11/27/1882: "Just as I get back from the printer's I receive your letter. I think your Montmartre is splendid, and I would certainly have shared the emotion that it evoked in you. I believe, by the way, that Jules Dupre or Daubigny also often tried to arouse those thoughts in their work."

Context:
JLB 291, 12/4/1882-12/9/1882: "Yet I believe you'll admit (the more so since it's a question here of something that isn't your own sphere, although it does concern you somewhat) that it's a fact that if many a landscape painter who is now highly rated knew half what you know of sound ideas about the outdoors, with which you're naturally familiar, he would produce much better and sounder work. Think this over, and put this and many more things besides in the balance when, weighing yourself, you say things like, 'I would only be something mediocre'. Unless you mean mediocre in its good, noble sense."

Context:
BVG 301, 7/22/1883: "You say that the effect of the lithographs is somewhat meager. I am not in the least surprised when I think of how a man's physique influences his work, and my life is too cramped and meager. Really, Theo, we ought to have had a little more to eat for the sake of the work, but I could not afford it, and it will remain so as long as I cannot breathe a little more freely."
JLB 363, 7/22/1883: "You say that the effect of the autographs is rather meagre. That doesn't surprise me in the least when I consider that someone's physical state influences his work, and my life is too dry and too meagre. Honestly, Theo, for the sake of the work we ought to have eaten a little better, but we couldn't afford it and things will stay like that if I don't get a little more leeway by one means or another."

It is an indication of how much this criticism rankled that Vincent returns to it again in August in an even fuller and more explicit statement of his autobiographical defense against it: "As to the work, what is becoming increasingly clear to me in everything since it caught my attention is the meagreness of the execution. That would worry me if I didn't think it a natural consequence (which I believe I've also seen in the early work of very many people I find sympathetic), a natural consequence of the effort one must make to overcome the very first obstacles. And, looking back on recent years, seeing them full of trouble behind me. That trouble having subsided, there will be another period of working, I hope. This error is so pervasive and its correction so badly needed that we must see to it that we take steps to give us a period of calm. And so work at it; otherwise it will stay like that. I am as my work is." (JLB 375, 8/18/1883.) In a letter to Van Rappard, Vincent defends his images more directly from Theo's attack: "But there's a certain kind of art, perhaps less flowery, more thorny, in which I find more for my heart" (JLB 325, 3/5/1883; emphasis in original). 

Context:
JLB 310, 2/8/1883: "The difficulties one faces in the first phase give the studies a painful quality at times. I don't regard this as something that discourages me, though, because I've noticed it in others as much as in myself, and in them it has increasingly gone away of its own accord."

Context:
BVG 277, 3/30/1883-4/1/1883: "I have a sower -- a mower -- a woman at the washtub -- a woman miner -- a seamstress -- a digger -- a woman with a spade -- the almshouse man -- a grace before meat -- a fellow with a wheelbarrow full of manure."
JLB 333, 3/29/1883 and 4/1/1883: "I have a sower -- a mower -- a woman at the wash-tub -- a woman miner -- a woman sewing -- a digger -- a woman with a spade -- the orphan man -- Prayer before the meal -- a fellow with a wheelbarrow of manure."

Context:
BVG 251, 12/3/1882-12/5/1882: "How much good it does one to see a beautiful Rousseau on which he has drudged to keep it true and honest. How much good it does to think of people like Van Goyen, Old Crome and Michel. How beautiful an Isaac Ostade or a Ruysdael is. Do I want them back or do I want people to imitate them? No, but I want the honesty, the naïveté, the truth, to remain."
JLB 291, 12/4/1882-12/9/1882: "How much good it does one to see a beautiful Rousseau on which he has drudged to keep it true and honest. How much good it does to think of people like Van Goyen, Old Crome and Michel. How beautiful an Isaac Ostade or a Ruysdael is. Do I want them back, or do I want them to be imitated? No, but I do want the honesty, the naivety, the faithfulness to remain."

Context:
JLB 279, 11/1/1882: "... and that brings us to what HH means. The old manner of engraving, that solid, honest, uncontrived drawing, is by far the best."

Only a month after making this offer to try smaller drawings, he lashes out at Theo in an unusually curt and churlish defense of his preference for the larger format: "You write about the question of making drawings in a smaller format. ... Do you know what I think -- all formats have their pros and cons. In general, for my own study, I definitely need to have the figure in fairly large proportions, so that head, hands, feet aren't too small and one can draw them robustly. ... But most take a smaller format. For my part, from the beginning I've done it like this for myself, sometimes a little smaller, sometimes a little larger, and for my own study I would be going against my convictions if I deviated from that." (JLB 290, 12/3/1882.) He goes on to challenge Theo: "Has someone said something to you like, for instance, if those figures were half the size, sheets of this kind could be used for this or that? And if you know of anything like that, I, for my part, will take the trouble either to reduce figures I already have to half the size, or to draw completely new ones in a smaller format. Without a specific reason I would think it less important than with a specific reason." (ibid.) In other words: if, and only if, Theo has a buyer for smaller drawings, then Vincent will consider doing smaller drawings. This amounts to something like, "Put up or shut up." 

Context:
JLB 290, 12/3/1882: "So for my own study I took as my example the format of [Charles] Bargue's Exercices au fusain, because that size is easy to take in at a glance and yet the details don't become too small. But most take a smaller format. For my part, from the beginning I've done it like this for myself, sometimes a little smaller, sometimes a little larger, and for my own study I would be going against my convictions if I deviated from that."

Context:
BVG 250, 12/2/1882-12/3/1882: "You write about the question of making drawings in a smaller size. I appreciate your speaking of that matter more calmly than others, who have said the same thing to me in quite a different way, and told me, If you don't work in a smaller size, this and that will happen. I think it preposterous and superficial to talk that way, and I can't believe what they say is true."
JLB 290, 12/3/1882: "You write about the question of making drawings in a smaller format. I think it good of you that you speak about this question in a calmer manner than others, who have sometimes said the same thing to me in a very different way and told me, if you don't work smaller then this will happen and that will happen. Talking about it like that seems to me premature and superficial, and I can't believe that what they say is true."

Context:
JLB 290, 12/3/1882: "Whether I personally have to work on a large or a small scale is immaterial to me, but what the illustrations demand is only part of what I ask of myself. Of myself I decidedly demand that I can draw the figure of a size such that head, hands and feet do not become too small and the details remain distinct. I cannot do this nearly as well as I have set myself to do it, and for that very reason I must not relax on this point."

Context:
JLB 330, 3/18/1883: "If you yourself were to be at the studio now, I don't think a week would pass without me presenting you with not one but a certain number of studies -- and it would amaze me if you couldn't always pick out from that certain number one or two things in which you found something attractive" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 241, 11/2/1882-11/3/1882: "But I can hardly say that I share your thought which you express in the following words: 'To me it seems quite natural that the desired change will occur.'"
JLB 280, 11/5/1882: "But for my part I can hardly say that I share your idea that you express as follows: 'in my view it's in the nature of things that the desired change will come.'"

Context:
JLB 280, 11/5/1882: "People will be forced to recognize that much of what's new, in which people at first thought they saw progress, is indeed less sound than the old, and consequently the need will become apparent for strong men to redress the balance. ... But for my part I can hardly say that I share your idea that you express as follows: 'in my view it's in the nature of things that the desired change will come.'"

Context:
JLB 280, 11/5/1882: "Nonetheless, there was still progress up to Millet and Jules Breton in my view, but as for surpassing these two men, don't talk to me of that. Their genius may be equalled in past, present or later ages, but to surpass them isn't possible. If one reaches that high zone, one is amid an equality of geniuses, but one can't climb higher than the top of the mountain."

Context:
JLB 280, 11/5/1882: "In the years to come we'll most certainly see splendid things; something more sublime than what we've already seen -- no. And for my part I fear that in a few years there may be a kind of panic, in this form: since Millet we have sunk very low -- the word decadence, now whispered or pronounced in veiled terms (see Herkomer), will then sound like an alarm bell." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 241, 11/2/1882-11/3/1882: "And I for my part am afraid that perhaps in a few years there will be a kind of panic in this regard. Since Millet we have greatly deteriorated; the word decadence, now whispered or pronounced in covert terms, (see Herkomer) will then sound as an alarm bell."JLB 280, 11/5/1882: "And for my part I fear that in a few years there may be a kind of panic, in this form: since Millet we have sunk very low -- the word decadence, now whispered or pronounced in veiled terms (see Herkomer), will then sound like an alarm bell" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 238, 10/10/1882: "And the changes which the moderns have made in art are not always for the better; not everything means progress -- neither in the works nor in the artists themselves -- and often it seems to me that many lose sight of the origin and the goal, or in other words, they do not stick to the point."
JLB 272, 10/15/1882: "And the changes introduced in art by the new people aren't improvements in every respect, it isn't all progress, neither in the work nor in the persons of the artists, and it often seems to me that many lose sight of both their starting-point and their target, or in other words don't stand firm."

Context:
BVG 238, 10/10/1882: "And the changes which the moderns have made in art are not always for the better; not everything means progress -- neither in the works nor in the artists themselves -- and often it seems to me that many lose sight of the origin and the goal, or in other words, they do not stick to the point."
JLB 272, 10/15/1882: "And the changes introduced in art by the new people aren't improvements in every respect, it isn't all progress, neither in the work nor in the persons of the artists, and it often seems to me that many lose sight of both their starting-point and their target, or in other words don't stand firm."

Context:
BVG 241, 11/2/1882-11/3/1882: "There is nowadays a hurry and bustle in everything that doesn't please me, and it seems as if the joy has gone out of most things. I wish your expectation would come true: 'that the desired change will come,' but to me it doesn't seem 'quite natural.'"
JLB 280, 11/5/1882: "The present has something hectic and harried about it for which I do not care, and it's just as if death has touched everything. I'd like your expectation 'that the desired change will come' to prove true, but in my view it isn't 'in the nature of things.'"

Context:
BVG 241, 11/2/1882-11/3/1882: "There is nowadays a hurry and bustle in everything that doesn't please me, and it seems as if the joy has gone out of most things. I wish your expectation would come true: 'that the desired change will come,' but to me it doesn't seem 'quite natural.'"
JLB 280, 11/5/1882: "The present has something hectic and harried about it for which I do not care, and it's just as if death has touched everything. I'd like your expectation 'that the desired change will come' to prove true, but in my view it isn't 'in the nature of things.'"

Context:
BVG 220, 7/26/1882: "It is not sufficient to give an à peu près[approximation]; it was and is my aim to intensify it.” JLB 251, 7/26/1882: “It isn't enough to give an approximation , and my aim has been and still is to make it more intense.”

Context:
BVG 251, 12/3/1882-12/5/1882: "Indeed, in the field of landscape painting enormous gaps are beginning to show themselves, and I should like to apply Herkomer's words to it: the interpreters allow their cleverness to mar the dignity of their calling. And I believe the public will begin to say: deliver us from artistic compositions, give us back the simple field."
JLB 291, 12/4/1882-12/9/1882: "Truly, huge voids are also beginning to come in the sphere of landscape, and I'd like to apply a remark by Herkomer: the interpreters allow their cleverness to mar the dignity of their calling. And I believe that the public will begin to say, deliver us from artistic combinations, give us back the simple field."

Context:
BVG 251, 12/3/1882-12/5/1882: "Smartness, as they call it here, the word is used so much -- I myself do not know its real meaning, and have heard it applied to very insignificant things -- is smartness what must save art?"
JLB 291, 12/4/1882-12/9/1882: "STALWARTNESS, as people say here, they make great play of this word -- for my part I don't know the true meaning of it, and have heard it applied to very insignificant things -- stalwartness, is that what must save art?" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 251, 12/3/1882-12/5/1882: "What you say is quite true, ' Earnestness is better than irony, no matter how sharp and witty it is.' In other words, I should say, 'Bonté vaut mieux que malice' [Goodness is worth more than malice], that is self-evident; but many people say, 'No, malice, that is it.' Well, they will have to reap what they sow."
JLB 291, 12/4/1882-12/9/1882: "What you say is absolutely true, ' Seriousness is better than raillery, however sharp and witty it is.' In other words, I would say, loving-kindness is better than mockery, that goes without saying, but many say, no, there's good in that mocking. Well, they must reap as they sow."

Context:
BVG 248, 11/26/1882-11/27/1882: "Zola, even though his Claude Lantier is real -- there certainly are Claude Lantiers, but, after all, one would like to see another kind of painter depicted by Zola than Lantier, who seems to be drawn from life after somebody who certainly was not the worst example of that school, which I think is called impressionist. And it is not they who form the nucleus of the artistic corps."
JLB 288, 11/26/1882-11/27/1882: "Even Zola might be right in his Claude Lantier -- Claude Lantiers certainly exist -- but still one would like to see Zola doing a kind of painter different from Lantier for once, who it seems to me is drawn from life by Zola after someone or other, and certainly not the worst, from the movement that was known as Impressionists, I believe. And they aren't the ones who make up the core of the body of artists." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 248, 11/26/1882-11/27/1882: "Zola, even though his Claude Lantier is real -- there certainly are Claude Lantiers, but, after all, one would like to see another kind of painter depicted by Zola than Lantier, who seems to be drawn from life after somebody who certainly was not the worst example of that school, which I think is called impressionist."
JLB 288, 11/26/1882-11/27/1882: "Even Zola might be right in his Claude Lantier -- Claude Lantiers certainly exist -- but still one would like to see Zola doing a kind of painter different from Lantier for once, who it seems to me is drawn from life by Zola after someone or other, and certainly not the worst, from the movement that was known as Impressionists, I believe."

Context:
JLB 359, 7/3/1883: "I read the articles about the Salon with a most curious feeling. I think it utterly wrong, entirely mistaken, except in part the appreciation of Manet -- I too think Manet is clever -- but very interesting, Zola on art, interesting in the same way as, for instance, a landscape by a figure painter: it isn't his genre, it's superficial, incorrect, but what an approach -- not carried through -- so be it -- not quite clear -- so be it -- but at any rate it makes one think and is original and tingling with life."

Context:
BVG R38, 7/2/1883: "So I read the articles on the Salon with a very peculiar feeling; I thought him enormously mistaken, his ideas entirely wrong, except partly his appreciation of Manet -- I think Manet clever too -- but it is very interesting to read Zola's ideas about art, as interesting, so to speak, as a landscape by a figure painter, for instance. It isn't his genre, it's superficial -- incorrect, but what a conception -- not carried through -- never mind -- not quite clear -- never mind -- it makes one think and is original and at least sparkling with life. But for all that, it's wrong and most inaccurate and unjustified."
JLB 359, 7/3/1883: "So I read the articles about the Salon with a most curious feeling. I think it utterly wrong, entirely mistaken, except in part the appreciation of Manet -- I too think Manet is clever -- but very interesting, Zola on art, interesting in the same way as, for instance, a landscape by a figure painter: it isn't his genre, it's superficial, incorrect, but what an approach -- not carried through -- so be it -- not quite clear -- so be it -- but at any rate it makes one think and is original and tingling with life. But it's mistaken and most incorrect, and rests on shifting sands."

Context:
BVG R38, 7/2/1883: "So I read the articles on the Salon with a very peculiar feeling; I thought him enormously mistaken, his ideas entirely wrong, except partly his appreciation of Manet -- I think Manet clever too -- but it is very interesting to read Zola's ideas about art, as interesting, so to speak, as a landscape by a figure painter, for instance. It isn't his genre, it's superficial -- incorrect, but what a conception -- not carried through -- never mind -- not quite clear -- never mind -- it makes one think and is original and at least sparkling with life. But for all that, it's wrong and most inaccurate and unjustified."
JLB 359, 7/3/1883: "So I read the articles about the Salon with a most curious feeling. I think it utterly wrong, entirely mistaken, except in part the appreciation of Manet -- I too think Manet is clever -- but very interesting, Zola on art, interesting in the same way as, for instance, a landscape by a figure painter: it isn't his genre, it's superficial, incorrect, but what an approach -- not carried through -- so be it -- not quite clear -- so be it -- but at any rate it makes one think and is original and tingling with life. But it's mistaken and most incorrect, and rests on shifting sands."

Context:
BVG R38, 7/2/1883: "So I read the articles on the Salon with a very peculiar feeling; I thought him enormously mistaken, his ideas entirely wrong, except partly his appreciation of Manet -- I think Manet clever too -- but it is very interesting to read Zola's ideas about art, as interesting, so to speak, as a landscape by a figure painter, for instance. It isn't his genre, it's superficial -- incorrect, but what a conception -- not carried through -- never mind -- not quite clear -- never mind -- it makes one think and is original and at least sparkling with life. But for all that, it's wrong and most inaccurate and unjustified."
JLB 359, 7/3/1883: "So I read the articles about the Salon with a most curious feeling. I think it utterly wrong, entirely mistaken, except in part the appreciation of Manet -- I too think Manet is clever -- but very interesting, Zola on art, interesting in the same way as, for instance, a landscape by a figure painter: it isn't his genre, it's superficial, incorrect, but what an approach -- not carried through -- so be it -- not quite clear -- so be it -- but at any rate it makes one think and is original and tingling with life. But it's mistaken and most incorrect, and rests on shifting sands."

Context:
BVG 248, 11/26/1882-11/27/1882: "Zola, even though his Claude Lantier is real -- there certainly are Claude Lantiers, but, after all, one would like to see another kind of painter depicted by Zola than Lantier, who seems to be drawn from life after somebody who certainly was not the worst example of that school, which I think is called impressionist. And it is not they who form the nucleus of the artistic corps."
JLB 288, 11/26/1882-11/27/1882: "Even Zola might be right in his Claude Lantier -- Claude Lantiers certainly exist -- but still one would like to see Zola doing a kind of painter different from Lantier for once, who it seems to me is drawn from life by Zola after someone or other, and certainly not the worst, from the movement that was known as Impressionists, I believe. And they aren't the ones who make up the core of the body of artists." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 341, 4/9/1883: "If I object to a certain new style, this certainly does not refer to the style of Israëls, Mauve, Maris [Willem, Matthijs, or Jacob] -- no. No! This is the best style, in my opinion, but something has resulted from it recently which -- though there seems to be a resemblance -- is in utter contradiction to the style of these masters, and that is what I disapprove of."

Context:
BVG R34, 5/8/1883: "If I object to a certain new style, this certainly does not refer to the style of Israëls, Mauve, Maris -- no. No! This is the best style, in my opinion, but something has resulted from it recently which -- though there seems to be a resemblance -- is in utter contradiction to the style of these masters, and that is what I disapprove of."
JLB 341, 4/9/1883: "If I have something against a new movement, it isn't at all that of Israels, Mauve, and Maris. No, that's simply the best in my view, but something has since arisen from it which, while resembling it, is in fact directly opposed to those masters -- and that's what I'm against."

Context:
JLB 359, 7/3/1883: "Have you noticed that Zola doesn't even mention Millet?"

Context:
JLB 252, 7/31/1882: "As regards black in nature, we are of course in complete agreement, as I understand it. Absolute black doesn't in fact occur."

Context:
JLB 252, 7/31/1882: "Absolute black doesn't in fact occur. Like white, however, it's present in almost every colour and forms the endless variety of greys -- distinct in tone and strength. So that in nature one in fact sees nothing but these tones or strengths. The 3 fundamental colors are red, yellow, blue, [the 3] composite [colours are] orange, green, purple. From these are obtained the endless variations of grey by adding black and some white -- red-grey, yellow-grey, blue-grey, green-grey, orange-grey, violet-grey. It's impossible to say how many different green-greys there are for example -- the variation is infinite." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 220, 7/26/1882: "All those things make me feel brighter and fresher -- you will see that I am not afraid of a bright green or a soft blue, and the thousands of different greys, for there is scarcely any colour that is not grey: red-grey, yellow-grey, green-grey, blue-grey. This is the substance of the whole colour scheme."
JLB 251, 7/26/1882: "All these things make me fresher and fresher inside -- you'll also see that I'm not afraid of a fresh green or a soft blue and the thousand different greys, for there's hardly any colour that isn't a grey: red-grey, yellow-grey, green-grey, blue-grey. This is what all colour mixing comes down to."

Context:
BVG 221, 8/1/1882: "Absolute black does not really exist. But like white, it is present in almost every colour, and forms the endless variety of greys, -- different in tone and strength. So that in nature one really sees nothing else but those tones or shades."
JLB 252, 7/31/1882: "Absolute black doesn't in fact occur. Like white, however, it's present in almost every colour and forms the endless variety of greys -- distinct in tone and strength. So that in nature one in fact sees nothing but these tones or strengths." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 221, 8/1/1882: "The colourist is he who, seeing a colour in nature knows at once how to analyse it. And can say for instance: that green-grey is yellow with black and blue, etc. In other words, someone who knows how to find the greys of nature on his palette."
JLB 252, 7/31/1882: "The colourist is he who on seeing a colour in nature is able to analyze it coolly and say, for example, that green-grey is yellow with black and almost no blue, &c. In short, knowing how to make up the greys of nature on the palette."

Context:
BVG 238, 10/10/1882: "It looks very different here today, but beautiful in its own way, for instance, ... the grey or brown-gray soil of spaded potato fields, ... a far-reaching view of the damp green meadows, shut off far away at the horizon by a greyish streak, ... Above it, a somewhat yellowish yet gray sky, very chilly and wintry, hanging low; there are occasional bursts of rain, and many hungry crows are flying around."
JLB 272, 10/15/1882: "Today it looks very different here, but it's beautiful too in its way, the Rijnspoor yards, for example ... the grey or brown-grey earth of dug-over potato fields ... a view of extensive, damp green meadows, cut off at the horizon far away by a grey band ... Over it a slightly yellow but still grey sky, very chilly and wintery, which hangs down low and from which a sort of drizzle comes in waves and in which many hungry crows fly."

Context:
JLB 217, 4/14/1882: "If I didn't fix your drawing -- or if I worked on it here and there after fixing it, so that there are some places with an unpleasant sheen -- go ahead and pour a large glass of milk, or water and milk, over it and let it dry, and you'll see that a peculiar dull black is produced, much stronger than one usually sees in a pencil drawing."

Vincent continues to use charcoal in combination with other media over the winter, but he never stops complaining about its difficulties. In May the following year (1883), he writes: "The only thing I have against charcoal is that it wipes off so easily; one loses things one has found because of this wiping off unless one works very carefully" (JLB 346, 5/25/1883). In June, his attitude toward charcoal is still torn between fondness and frustration: "the reluctance I felt to work with charcoal is disappearing day by day. One of the reasons is that I've found a way of fixing the charcoal and then going over it with something else, such as printer's ink." (JLB 357, 6/27/1883.) Only a few weeks later, he reports that he has ordered "an instrument that's known as a fixer which enables one to fix a charcoal drawing out of doors while one works," and promises that this will make it possible for him to "work [drawings] up" (JLB 360, 7/7/1883). It is not clear what this instrument was or to what extent it helped, but it does not appear to have solved his difficulties with the medium. As far as is known, Vincent rarely used charcoal except as an auxiliary material after leaving The Hague in September 1883 (Van Heugten, p. 29, n. 35). 

Context:
JLB 222, 5/1/1882: "Charcoal is best, but if one works with it too long it loses its freshness, and to keep the subtlety one has to fix those spots."

Context:
JLB 267, 9/19/1882: "I make no progress with charcoal, and I prefer to work with a carpenter's pencil. I would like to see someone make a charcoal drawing -- with me it so quickly becomes flat, and the cause is something that I believe would go if I saw it being done."

Context:
BVG 187, 4/15/1882: "If I have not fixed your drawing, or have worked on it again here and there after having fixed it, so that there are spots with an unpleasant shine, just pour a large glass of milk, or water and milk, over it and let it dry; you will see that it gives a peculiar saturated black, much more effective than is generally seen in a pencil drawing."
JLB 217, 4/14/1882: "If I didn't fix your drawing -- or if I worked on it here and there after fixing it, so that there are some places with an unpleasant sheen -- go ahead and pour a large glass of milk, or water and milk, over it and let it dry, and you'll see that a peculiar dull black is produced, much stronger than one usually sees in a pencil drawing."

Context:
JLB 297, 12/31/1882 and 1/2/1883: "And if it's essential, then I believe that I would sooner get a better effect than a worse one with the same ingredients on the grey paper. When I looked at what Buhot had scratched on the one sample, I saw right away that the black was of a very deep tone, and I can understand that this is really essential for reproduction, where photogravure and galvanoplasty are involved. So I immediately tried to see which black I could use, while still sketching in my normal way."

Context:
JLB 297, 12/31/1882 and 1/2/1883: "I saw at once that the black was of a very deep tone, and I can understand that this is a real necessity for the reproduction."

Context:
JLB 297, 12/31/1882 and 1/2/1883: "But I had the idea of first doing a drawing in carpenter's pencil and then working in and over it with lithographic crayon, because (owing to the greasiness of the material) it takes on pencil, whereas ordinary crayon does not, or only poorly. Having done the sketch in this way, one can confidently work in the lithographic crayon where necessary without having to search or rub out a lot." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG R37, 6/14/1883-6/15/1883: "I want to tell you something besides about a kind of Faber lead pencil that I have discovered. Here is the diameter of the lead; they are soft and of a better quality than the carpenter's pencils; they give a glorious black, and are very pleasant to work with for large studies."
JLB 354, 6/15/1883: "Wanted to tell you about a type of pencil by Faber that I've found. Here you see the thickness of the cross-section. They're soft and better quality than the carpenter's pencils, produce a marvellous black and are very agreeable to work with for large studies."

Context:
JLB 298, 1/3/1883: "While I search for a more powerful process than the one I've worked with up to now, I try to be guided to some extent by the English reproductions made using the process you described -- together with the black scratches Buhot made on the sample paper -- as to the strength of black."

Context:
BVG 256, 12/31/1882-1/2/1883: "What is called Black and White is in fact painting in black, meaning that one gives the same depth of effect, the same richness of tone value in a drawing that ought to be in a painting."
JLB 297, 12/31/1882 and 1/2/1883: "What people call Black and White is actually Painting in black. Painting in the sense that one puts into a drawing the depth of effect and the rich gradations of tone that a painting should have." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 256, 12/31/1882-1/2/1883: "What is called Black and White is in fact painting in black, meaning that one gives the same depth of effect, the same richness of tone value in a drawing that ought to be in a painting."
JLB 297, 12/31/1882 and 1/2/1883: "What people call Black and White is actually Painting in black. Painting in the sense that one puts into a drawing the depth of effect and the rich gradations of tone that a painting should have." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 322, 3/2/1883: "Do you remember bringing me pieces of natural chalk last summer? I tried to work with it then but couldn't. So I was left with a few pieces that I took up again these past few days."

Context:
BVG R30, 3/5/1883: "I found a piece of it the other day, however, and I was struck by its beautiful black colour. ... I've scratched a few strokes here at random in order to let you see the colour of the black. Don't you think it's a beautifully warm tone?"
JLB 325, 3/5/1883: "Now lately I found a piece again and I was struck by how beautiful its colour was, its blackness. ... I scrawl some lines here at random to show you the range of black. Don't you think it's beautifully warm?" (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG R30, 3/5/1883: "Now something else. Do you know bergkrijt ['black mountain crayon']? Last year I got some big sticks about this size from my brother."
JLB 325, 3/5/1883: "Now another thing -- do you know bergkrijt [natural chalk]? Last year I was given a few large pieces by my brother, this size, no less." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG R30, 3/5/1883: "I intend to go on using it in combination with lithographic crayon. It's just as if there's soul and life in that stuff, and as if it understood what you mean to express and co-operated."
JLB 325, 3/5/1883: "I intend to use it continually in combination with lithographic crayon. It's just as if there were soul and life in the stuff, and as if it understands what one intends and itself cooperates."

Context:
BVG 277, 3/30/1883-4/1/1883: "I am writing about it because it happened to be the drawing made with that crayon I mentioned, and you can tell that since you took the trouble to procure it for me, I for my part like nothing better than to work with it."
JLB 333, 3/29/1883 and 4/1/1883: "I write to you about it because the drawing was the very one in natural chalk, and you can see from this that if you take the trouble to get me some, I for my part like nothing better than to work with it."

Context:
JLB 325, 3/5/1883: "Last year I was given a few large pieces by my brother, this size, no less."

Context:
JLB 335, 4/3/1883: "When one is ready, put a little ordinary PRINTER'S INK on a palette, a little Cassel earth, for example, and white-oil paint. With this -- mixing the colours and the printer's ink, which is as thick as tar in its natural state, with TURPENTINE (no oil, of course) -- one begins to tackle the original drawing again (with the brush, naturally). This is something I've tried out lately. It goes without saying that the printer's ink -- diluted with more or less turpentine (one can make it so thin that one can do highly transparent washes with it -- at the same time, using it more thickly, one can make the deepest tones of black with it) is the main ingredient one uses. I believe this is a route by which one can do many things. Anyway, more about this later -- I myself am exploring." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 282, 5/2/1883: "I hope Rappard will be able to help me a little, for I need it as much as a meadow needs the rain after a long drought."
JLB 339, 5/2/1883 or 5/3/1883: "I hope R. will be able to help me a little, for I'm in need of it, just as the field needs a shower when it has long been dry."

Context:
JLB 339, 5/2/1883 or 5/3/1883: "When the money from you arrived this morning I had no money -- that is, had been absolutely without a single cent for about a week. Furthermore, I had run out of drawing materials. I was in discussions with Smulders [Jos. Smulders & Co.] about a batch of drawing paper and took it, although the expenditure was inconvenient now -- but I had to have it and other materials such as the engravers' printer's ink and lithographic crayon. And had to pay various things and stock up for the housekeeping. And had to pay models whom I had had in the meantime so that I could carry on working."

Context:
JLB 323, 3/3/1883: "But the road would have fewer obstacles if you could send me something extra soon. Otherwise I foresee that I'll come up against various things, whether drawing materials or taking a model or making some more changes."

Context:
BVG 286, 5/21/1883: "But, Theo, the work brings so many expenses: and in many things I haven't the free hand that would be necessary. Of course, the household costs are heavy too."
JLB 344, 5/21/1883: "But Theo, the work involves many outgoings, and in many respects I don't have the freedom of movement I consider advisable. Of course I have to spend something on housekeeping too, don't I?"

Context:
BVG 280, 4/21/1883-4/22/1883: "I repeat, I do not say this to complain, nor to force you to greater sacrifices -- you are really burdened beyond your strength too. But I say it for the sake of a better understanding, and to relieve my mind. For you will understand that I am often full of heavy cares."
JLB 337, 4/21/1883: "Again, I don't say this to complain, nor because I want to press you to make greater sacrifices -- you're already overburdened yourself. But in explanation and to open my heart for once. For you'll understand that sometimes I'm burdened with cares."

Context:
JLB 348, 6/3/1883: "It's disappointing that you write that business isn't going very well -- if the position gets more precarious, let's redouble our efforts."

Context:
JLB 348, 6/3/1883: "It's disappointing that you write that business isn't going very well -- if the position gets more precarious, let's redouble our efforts."

Context:
BVG 295, 6/22/1883: "I am rather hard up. Last year, you remember, every now and then I had something extra from you; now for certain reasons you have been rather straightened yourself since February or March, I think."
JLB 356, 6/22/1883: "I'm a little worried, last year, as you know, I sometimes had something extra from you and now since February or since March, I believe, you yourself have been hard up."

Context:
JLB 348, 6/3/1883: "But once again, as long as I don't find employment the money from you is absolutely indispensable. What I received from you today -- I immediately have to pay out exactly as much as I receive, I still have to pay three models whom I had several times, I have to pay the carpenter, pay rent, still pay the baker and grocer and the cobbler as well, and stock up again."

Context:
BVG 288, 6/3/1883: "To me it means models, studio, bread; cutting it down would be something like choking or drowning me. I mean, I can do as little without it now as I can do without air."
JLB 348, 6/3/1883: "For me it represents model, studio, bread; reducing it would lead to something like suffocating or drowning, I mean I can no more do without it now than I can do without air."

Context:
JLB 348, 6/3/1883: "So, old chap, as for my not needing you one time, I need it more than ever, but I would point out the opportunity we have if we persevere. Because of the money from Rappard, I already have several things such as sketchbooks &c., and everything you send is converted into drawings, and I believe you'll find what I'm working on now more suitable than the previous ones. So let's be of good heart and energetic."

Context:
JLB 348, 6/3/1883: "Well, you say that business isn't flourishing. That's bad enough. But the situation has always been precarious and always will be in life."

By March, however, he has retreated from this commitment almost entirely. He tells Theo that he would be willing to take a position at a magazine only if his employer agrees in advance to let him make whatever drawings he wants and to pay him regardless of whether they publish the illustrations -- exactly the arrangement he has with Theo: "Who knows if now, with better light and natural chalk and lithographic crayon, I shan't succeed in doing something for illustrated magazines. Current events -- that's what they wanted. If by that they meant things like illuminations for the king's birthday, say, that would give me precious little enjoyment. But if it pleased the gentlemen to include under current events scenes from the everyday life of the people, I'd have nothing against doing my very best for those." (JLB 324, 3/4/1883; emphasis in original.) Beneath this fog of words, Vincent has, as usual, stepped away from a project that has not borne immediate fruit. He is positioning himself as the shunning, not shunned. If he cannot find a job, it is not the fault of his images or his talent, it is the short-sightedness of the magazine publishers. 

Context:
JLB 324, 3/4/1883: "Lately I read the following in Felix Holt the Radical by Eliot. 'The people I live among have the same follies and vices as the rich -- only they have their own forms of folly and vice -- and they have not what are called the refinements of the rich to make their faults more bearable. It doesn't much matter to me -- I'm not fond of those refinements but some people are and find it difficult to feel at home with such persons as have them not.' I wouldn't have put it in those words myself, but I've sometimes felt the same." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 303, 7/23/1883: "The idea of working in fits and starts is a nightmare to me."
JLB 365, 7/23/1883: "Look, imagining how I would have to work in fits and starts is a ghastly prospect for me."

Context:
BVG 303, 7/23/1883: "So let's not lose courage, but comfort each other, instead of distressing or disheartening each other."
JLB 365, 7/23/1883: "So don't lose courage, and we must try to make each other's heart strong instead of weak or upset."

Context:
BVG 303, 7/23/1883: "So let's not lose courage, but comfort each other, instead of distressing or disheartening each other."
JLB 365, 7/23/1883: "So don't lose courage, and we must try to make each other's heart strong instead of weak or upset."

Context:
BVG 304, 7/24/1883-7/25/1883: "But what was the result? It was like the beetle which is bound to a thread and can fly a little way, but is inevitably stopped by something. I began things, but after paying the bills, I was hard up for weeks at the end of the month, sometimes almost without a penny."
JLB 366, 7/24/1883: "But what happens? -- like the May bug tied to a string, which can fly a little way but then comes up against something fatal. I started things but as soon as the month ended I had to bend over backwards for weeks to pay the bill, sometimes almost unbearably hard up."

One could interpret these as merely meaningless incantations designed to blunt his brother's criticisms, for Vincent almost never listens to Theo's advice -- indeed, he mostly defies it -- and he always returns quickly to his primary mode of self-justification. (At the same time he was writing this lavishly conciliatory passage to Theo, he was venting his spleen against dealers in general [and Theo by implication] in letters to Van Rappard. [JLB 332, 3/21/1883.]) Nevertheless, we prefer to see Vincent as genuinely conflicted about Theo's guidance, just as he was conflicted about almost every aspect of his relationship with Theo. On the one hand, he loves and respects Theo and wants to listen to his advice, but, on the other hand, he resents being in a position of subservience to Theo and therefore is inevitably inclined to resist all of his advice, no matter its merits, as a form of protest -- an acceptable expression of his underlying resentment at Theo's unnatural superior position in the relationship.

The contradictory forces at work can be heard in this unusually elaborate and pitiable (but resolutely self-justifying) request for money: "I have to say that I'm running a little short. This is certainly not your fault -- but it's not my fault either. Whatever calculations I make, I can't economize any further. And to carry out some plans I would need to have more than I can command. ... Yet I don't say this to complain -- I'm grateful that I can make progress, albeit not as forcefully as I would like. ... You will understand what I mean, I would like to be able to spend more, both on models and on painting materials. Even if I don't sell a single one of my studies, I still believe they're worth what they cost in outgoings. The studio is so much better and more practical, but I only have enough steam for 'half speed' and want to go 'full speed'. Again, I don't say this to complain, nor because I want to press you to make greater sacrifices -- you're already overburdened yourself. But in explanation and to open my heart for once. For you'll understand that sometimes I'm burdened with cares. Still, we must make shift with what we have, and undermine with patience the things we can't lift with strength." (JLB 337, 4/21/1883.)

One can see the contest between defiance and deference especially clearly in two letters written a couple of days apart. In one (JLB 331, 3/21/1883), Vincent is militant and angry in defense of his figure drawings and studio expenses. In the other (JLB 330, 3/18/1883), he is compliant and cooperative -- a different person altogether. He encloses a drawing (Man in a Village Inn [F 276 JH 339]) that was clearly created specifically to address Theo's criticisms and concerns. He even provides a lengthy commentary for the drawing which is designed to highlight its elaborateness and charm -- two of the qualities that Theo has lobbied for. "It shows a gentleman who has had to spend the night at a village inn due to the late arrival of a diligence or some such reason. Now he has risen early, and while he orders a glass of brandy for the cold he pays the innkeeper's wife (a woman with a peasant's cap). But it's still very early in the morning, 'the crack of dawn', -- he must catch the mail-coach -- the moon is still shining and the glistening snow can be seen through the window of the taproom -- and the objects cast oddly whimsical shadows." (ibid.; emphasis in original.) Vincent is very explicit about the effort to placate Theo that this drawing represents: "So should it be that the drawings in natural chalk I sent you aren't what you intended, even though I had your tip in mind when I did them, don't let that discourage you, and feel at liberty to come back to that point, the more often the better. And be assured that once I've grasped your intention I'll be prepared, for example, to do as I said above." (ibid.; emphasis added.) 

Context:
JLB 377, 8/20/1883: "If you won't mention that my dress occasionally leaves something to be desired, I'll be content with what I have and even grateful for it."

Context:
JLB 375, 8/18/1883: "I know I make a disagreeable impression. Attempts to change that may well come up against the difficulty that the work would suffer if one lived differently."

Context:
JLB 363, 7/22/1883: "You say that the effect of the autographs is rather meagre. That doesn't surprise me in the least when I consider that someone's physical state influences his work, and my life is too dry and too meagre. Honestly, Theo, for the sake of the work we ought to have eaten a little better, but we couldn't afford it and things will stay like that if I don't get a little more leeway by one means or another."

Context:
JLB 332, 3/21/1883: "Anyway, be that as it may, let's keep up each other's enthusiasm, and let's encourage each other, as far as we can, to carry on working. Not in the direction of pleasing dealers or the ordinary art lovers but in the direction of manly strength, truth, loyalty, honesty. Which are all directly connected, in my view, with working with models. It seems that everything one makes in this way is doomed to be called 'disagreeable', but I believe this far from imaginary but definitely existing prejudice ought to give way all the same before the attempts of the painters against it, provided the painters are agreed on this between themselves and support and help each other, and don't allow the dealers to be the only ones who speak to the public, but put a word in for themselves now and again. For while I'm prepared to accept that what a painter says about his own work won't always be understood, I still believe that in this way better seed would be scattered in the field of public opinion than the seeds the dealers and their associates are in the habit of sowing according to a conventional formula that's always the same."

Context:
JLB 367, 7/25/1883: "I tell you plainly that few of the ideas about art with which I became familiar during my time with Goupil -- in so far as they had to do with practice -- have been borne out, although I've kept the same taste. Creating things doesn't take place as one imagines if one is a dealer, and the life of a painter is different, the study is different."

Context:
JLB 375, 8/18/1883: "If only I had got a bit further so that it would be easier to sell, I would definitely say, you be the man who takes care of business, I don't want to have anything to do with selling, and live entirely outside those circles. Unfortunately, though, I can't yet say that now, and you aren't to blame for that, but I ask you for patience in both our interests and for the sake of peace. ... It's so painful for me to talk to most people, I'm not afraid to, but I know I make a disagreeable impression. Attempts to change that may well come up against the difficulty that the work would suffer if one lived differently. And provided one perseveres with the work, it will turn out all right later. Take Mesdag, a veritable mastodon or hippopotamus, all the same he sells his paintings. I haven't got as far as that yet, but the person I mention also began late and worked his way up by an honest, manly route, whatever else he may be. It's not in the least because of laziness that I don't do this or that; rather it's to be able to work more and to leave aside anything not directly part of the work."

Context:
BVG 315, 8/20/1883-8/21/1883: "For I think if you consider things seriously, you will not doubt my working hard, and besides, if you should insist on my going to ask people to buy from me, I would do so, but in that case I should perhaps get melancholy. If possible, let me go on as I have up to now. If not, and if you want me to take my work around to different people, I shall not refuse to do so if you think it better. But, brother dear, human brains cannot bear everything; there is a limit. Look at Rappard, who got brain fever, and had to travel as far as Germany to recover. Trying to go and speak to people about my work makes me more nervous than is good for me."
JLB 377, 8/20/1883: "For I believe that if you think about it carefully you won't doubt that I'm industrious, and if, moreover, you were to demand that I asked people to buy from me, I would do it, but I might then become melancholic. If possible, allow me to go on as before. If not, and if you want me to call on people with my work, I shan't refuse if you advise that. Yet, dear brother, human brains can't withstand everything. Take Rappard, who got brain fever and has now gone all the way to Germany to get rid of it. I become more agitated than is good for me when I take steps like going to people to talk about the work." (Emphasis in original.)

This leads to a truly delusional scheme: "I'd like to work towards being PERMANENTLY employed for a monthly wage rather than selling a drawing now and again for a relatively higher sum. And commit myself to a series of compositions following on, for example, from these two that are on the easel or from others that I'll add. I would think it advisable to go to London myself with studies and drawings and to look up the managers of the various organizations, or preferably the draughtsmen Herkomer, Green [Charles Green or Henry Towneley Green], Boughton (some, however, are in America at present) or others, if they're in London. And would be able to get information about processes better there than elsewhere. Who knows, perhaps Rappard would also like to come along and bring drawings as well? Something like that needs to be done, I believe, with or without changes to the plan. I would dare, I believe, to undertake to supply about 1 large drawing each month for a double-page engraving, and shall apply myself to the other formats too, the whole page and the half page." (ibid.; emphasis added.)

The true delusion of this plan lies in its specificity. Vincent imagines it at a time when he has yet to sell anything to anybody at any price (except to his Uncle Cor, who was hardly an arms-length buyer and, anyway, did not like the drawings he bought and refused afterward to speak to his nephew [JLB 363, 7/22/1883]). This dream of England as a perfect refuge (which, we would argue, recapitulates a similar fantasy that overtook Vincent in the depths of the Borinage [see Chapter 12]) lingers throughout the summer of 1883. "I sometimes think of going to England. ... Perhaps there may be work and a salary there." (JLB 358, 7/2/1883.) "As for going to London sooner or later for a while, long or short, I too believe that there would be more chance of doing something with my work over there; I also think that I could learn a great deal if I could make the acquaintance of some people there. And there I wouldn't be short of subjects to do, I assure you. There would be beautiful things to do on the wharves beside the Thames." (JLB 361, 7/11/1883.) "I believe it's still always possible that on looking through the work we may decide on another plan for the future -- I don't know what as yet -- but somewhere there must be work that has to be done and that I can do as well as someone else. If London were a little closer, I for one wouldn't leave it to others." (JLB 368, 7/27/1883.) "Then I would certainly go to London right away to look for no matter what, even carrying bales, and leave art for better times, at least having a studio and painting" (JLB 375, 8/18/1883).

This last offer, to work as a delivery boy, is clearly meant for rhetorical purposes only, for in a letter the very next day, Vincent dismisses the idea of London in a tortured knot of rationalization. He says it is because of "the woman," but the real reason is clearly another attack of insecurity about his work: "When I think of London, it's a stimulating thought, I assure you, but the question is: is it practicable now, is now the right moment? Wouldn't it be better if I said plainly to myself: 'Consider your work not yet mature enough, because what you want and intend doesn't yet seem to be sufficiently comprehensible to those who see it, since they're more or less startled by it, so to speak -- carry on -- work faithfully and forcefully from nature -- look again deep in the country on the heath or in the dunes, and for the time being let it be enough that those who have seen it don't yet see much in it now, so don't go on showing it, don't count on support in London right away, it must be better?'" (JLB 376, 8/19/1883; emphasis in original.) 

Context:
JLB 293, 12/11/1882: "I begin to feel in myself that if, for example, I went to England and tried right and left, I would indeed have a chance of finding a place. To achieve that was my ideal, was and is, despite everything, still what spurred me on to overcome the enormous initial difficulties. -- -- -- But my heart becomes heavy at times when I think of what's going on -- my pleasure vanishes. I really want to do my best in my drawings, but all those editors and having to present oneself there -- bah! I shudder at the thought."

Context:
JLB 298, 1/3/1883: " I'll show you more when you come, sooner or later -- and then we can talk about the future. You know well enough how little suited I am to approaching either dealers or art lovers, and moreover how it goes against the grain for me. ... I'm too fond of my very simple life to want to change it, but later on we'll have to incur greater expenses to do greater things." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 338, 11/11/1883: " Father used to ponder over the story of Jacob and Esau with regard to you and me -- not quite wrongly -- but fortunately there is less discord, to mention only one point of difference, and in the Bible itself there are plenty of examples of better relations between brothers than existed between the venerable patriarchs mentioned above."
JLB 405, 11/11/1883: " Pa sometimes mulled over the story of Jacob and Esau with regard to you and me -- not entirely mistakenly -- although happily there's less enmity, to mention just one difference, and in the Bible itself there are examples aplenty of better relations between brothers than existed between the aforementioned venerable patriarchs."

Context:
JLB 308, 2/5/1883: "That je ne sais quoi, as with the heath, or that recalls her native country, the old coast of Brittany, is something that will become stronger rather than weaker with time, I believe, when you've been with her longer."

Context:
BVG 279, 4/11/1883: "And further, your particular case is different from the more commonplace ones like mine [i.e., Sien], for instance, because the person in question possesses a special charm and, as I see it, sympathy of feeling; as a consequence, the possibility of an inner struggle about the problem you mention would also have emerged, even if the meeting had taken place under quite different and less dramatic circumstances."
JLB 336, 4/11/1883: "And now, your particular case differs from the more everyday -- such as mine, for instance -- because of the singular circumstance that the person in question has a special charm and that there is, I believe, a sympathy of feeling, so that even if the meeting had taken place under entirely different and less dramatic circumstances, you might have been in two minds over the question at issue."

Context:
JLB 306, 2/3/1883: "How is your patient getting along? In what you write I see things that touch me deeply (such as that she paid the debt of the man who had deceived her)." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 306, 2/3/1883: "In what you write I see things that touch me deeply (such as that she paid the debt of the man who had deceived her)" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 336, 4/11/1883: "And now, your particular case differs from the more everyday -- such as mine, for instance -- because of the singular circumstance that the person in question has a special charm and that there is, I believe, a sympathy of feeling, so that even if the meeting had taken place under entirely different and less dramatic circumstances, you might have been in two minds over the question at issue."

Context:
JLB 344, 5/21/1883: "Am glad you're enjoying yourself these days. Le Paradou -- must have been real. Yes, I would have nothing against giving something like that a try sometime. And you would be good models, I don't doubt that."

Context:
JLB 301, 1/13/1883: "I think it rather a pity that she has no child."

Context:
BVG 291, 6/5/1883-6/6/1883: "And perhaps in your case, 'That poor Catholic girl must not be forsaken,' or something like that; so don't worry, keep good courage and try to reassure them."
JLB 351, 6/7/1883: "Now, probably the same in your case: 'that poor papist woman shouldn't be alone even so', or something like that. So don't be concerned, be of good heart, and put their minds at ease."

Context:
BVG 267, 2/15/1883: "From what you say about her reading, for instance, I see she has a sentiment which many other women completely lack."
JLB 316, 2/15/1883: "From what you say about reading, for example, I can see that she has a feeling that many other women certainly do not have."

Context:
BVG 267, 2/15/1883: "... she has known other things beside poverty and narrow-mindedness, so that I suppose she can fully appreciate you with regard to culture and broad-mindedness too, more than a woman who has been crushed by misery from childhood on and knows no better."
JLB 316, 2/15/1883: "... she has known not only misery and straitened circumstances, but also other things, so I believe that she'll appreciate you fully, also as regards civilization and broader views, much more so than a woman who has been hurt by misery from an early age and knows no better than to think that normal."

Context:
BVG 290, 6/3/1883: "But as there are qualities in your woman which indicate that there is something intellectual about her, and as she is not without culture, I think that for this reason she doubly deserves your confidence."
JLB 349, 6/3/1883: "Yet because your woman is likely to prove to have an intellectual side and isn't uncultured, I believe that for that reason she deserves to be doubly trusted."

Context:
BVG 264, 2/5/1883: "That je ne sais quoi coming from the heath, or whatever it is that reminds you of her native country, that old coast of Brittany, is something which I think will become stronger rather than weaker the longer you are with her."
JLB 308, 2/5/1883: "That je ne sais quoi, as with the heath, or that recalls her native country, the old coast of Brittany, is something that will become stronger rather than weaker with time, I believe, when you've been with her longer" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 308, 2/5/1883: "I thought your expression: 'Will she later be like the dog with the shepherd, or something better?' quite typical -- don't you think it likely that it will vary considerably from time to time? In one and the same love there are so many different states or metamorphoses -- precisely because of the loyalty to one and the same love -- that it's constantly changing." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 308, 2/5/1883: "That je ne sais quoi, as with the heath, or that recalls her native country, the old coast of Brittany, is something that will become stronger rather than weaker with time, I believe, when you've been with her longer" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 306, 2/3/1883: "That not finding that member of parliament 'at home' reminded me of the name that Punch gives to the secretary of home affairs (the Home Secretary is his title). In Punch this personage is never called anything but the Seldom at Home Secretary. What a lot of these Seldom-at-home people there are! And Dickens calls all of them together the circumlocution office." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 301, 1/13/1883: "It seems to me that you should pay special attention to the surroundings of the woman you write about if you want to see some benefit. It would be desirable for her to be somewhere other than in an empty room in a hotel or something like that, and for her to be in more domestic surroundings."

Context:
JLB 313, 2/12/1883: "I took the view in a previous letter that there were objections to your having mentioned a job? -- I had already glimpsed something dimly in my mind -- now you write about the beginnings of melancholy -- well, I was afraid of that."

Context:
JLB 301, 1/13/1883: "So don't let go of this thought, for it's good for love to ripen so that marrying becomes very much a secondary matter. That is safer, and no one suffers harm as a result."

Context:
BVG 260, 1/13/1883: " To save a life is a great and beautiful thing, but it is also very difficult and requires great care."
JLB 301, 1/13/1883: " Maintaining a life above water is a great and fine thing, but it's also very difficult and requires a lot of care."

Context:
BVG 260, 1/13/1883: "As to what I wrote you about sending me a little more money -- yes, I am rather hard up and wish it were possible, but do not deprive her for my sake, and know well that because of what you wrote, I will try twice as hard to make progress, so that the burden may become somewhat lighter for you."
JLB 301, 1/13/1883: "As for my writing to ask whether you could send me a little more, well, I'm a little worried and wish it was possible, but don't let her go short for my sake. And be assured that because of what you write I'll gladly redouble my efforts to make progress, so that the burden on you is lightened." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 313, 2/12/1883: "I find some expressions in your letters from which I see, or at least believe I see, that as regards the future you're in doubt as to the question of whether or not she will love you now and for ever."

Context:
JLB 228, 5/16/1882: "... there are aspects of life that are less developed in you than your understanding of business, about which I freely grant that you're far better informed than I, and shan't lightly dare to say to you this or that isn't so. On the contrary, especially when you explain a little to me, I often feel that your grasp of things is better than mine. But on the other hand, when it comes to love -- I'm sometimes astonished by your views."

Context:
BVG 260, 1/13/1883: " It would be desirable for her to be elsewhere than in a dreary hotel room -- she ought to have more home-like surroundings."
JLB 301, 1/13/1883: " It would be desirable for her to be somewhere other than in an empty room in a hotel or something like that, and for her to be in more domestic surroundings."

Context:
BVG 268a, 2/12/1883: "I repeat, if I am mistaken in thinking that in your patient's case there is also confusion or an inner struggle (of course, unjustified), so much the better; but if the signs of melancholy persist -- let her promise once more she will get well, and show her unmistakably that you insist on her getting well, and that you cannot live without her."
JLB 313, 2/12/1883: "Again, if I'm mistaken in thinking that there's a kind of delirium or inner conflict (unfounded naturally) in your patient too, so much the better. But should symptoms of melancholia persist, have her promise again that she'll get better, and show her plainly that you want her to get better and that you simply can't do without her." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 316, 2/15/1883: "As for reading, the work of Michelet seems to me to be something that would give her spirit and tone."

Context:
JLB 305, 1/27/1883: "Below an English figure of a woman (by [Helen] Paterson [Allingham]) is the name Dolorosa, which pretty well expresses it. I'm thinking of the two women now, and at the same time I thought of a drawing by [George John] Pinwell, The sisters, in which I find that 'Dolorosa'. That drawing shows two women in black in a dark room. One has just come home and is hanging her coat on the hatstand. The other briefly smells a primrose on the table while picking up a white piece of needlework."

Context:
BVG 262, 1/25/1883-1/29/1883: "Generally speaking (apart from the difference between the two persons in question), to you and me there appeared on the cold cruel pavement a sad pitiful woman's figure, and neither you nor I passed it by -- we both stopped and followed the human impulse of our hearts."
JLB 305, 1/27/1883: "In broad outline (leaving aside the difference between the two people in question), on a cold, merciless pavement a sombre, sorrowful figure of a woman appeared before you and before me, and neither you nor I passed her by, but both of us stopped and followed the promptings of our human heart."

As Hulsker notes, these accounts do not seem to justify the outpouring of anxiety that Vincent lavishes on Marie's medical situation over the next two months (Hulsker, Vincent and Theo, p. 127-128). "I congratulate you especially on the operation being behind you. Things such as you describe make one shudder. May it now be overcome -- and at least the crisis over. Poor woman!" (JLB 310, 2/8/1883.) "What a difficult operation that is, at least I was shocked when I read the description" (ibid.). "I'm longing to know whether any unusual effects of the operation have appeared in your patient" (JLB 312, 2/11/1883). "[T]he symptom of 'rather depressed' in your patient worries me" (JLB 313, 2/12/1883). "I'm glad your patient is making progress, if only slowly"(JLB 297, 12/31/1882 and 1/2/1883). Vincent also refers to her "anaemia" at one point (JLB 322, 3/2/1883), but that could be just a post-operative problem; and, in April, two months after the operation, he asks about the recovery, "Is she up already?" (JLB 334, 4/2/1883.) This could be a specific reference to the aforementioned foot problem or it could just be a general expression of encouragement.

While the two-month recovery period does support the scenario of foot surgery, the deep concern of both Vincent and Theo points to a more serious illness -- or at least a major surgical intervention on the foot, such as correction of a clubfoot or amputation. (Whether Charles Bovary's famous operation on Hippolyte's clubfoot in Madame Bovary had any influence on Vincent's account is impossible to tell.) Given Marie's past, Theo's past, and their present situation, one cannot entirely discount the possibility that the "operation" related to the termination of a pregnancy. The length of "recovery" may relate to an extended period of isolation to prevent her condition showing in public (both of her parents enter the picture around the time of her reappearance in April) (JLB 334, 4/2/1883). Such a scenario, entirely conjectural, would have to account for Vincent's "foot" reference and frequent subsequent references to a discreet operation dating to early February. It is possible either that Theo did not tell Vincent the truth or, less likely, that Vincent and Theo are talking in an agreed-upon code. Vincent's advice in June that "I consider it DESIRABLE that there be a child," would argue against an earlier pregnancy, although not dispositively because the aborted child would probably have been the previous lover's (JLB 313, 2/12/1883; emphasis in original). 

Context:
JLB 308, 2/5/1883: "It's still a difficult phase, that operation -- if I were you I shouldn't talk to her too much about looking for a job later -- given that, especially in relation to her foot, the future is so uncertain -- better leave it uncertain."

Context:
JLB 313, 2/12/1883: "... for days I've pictured your patient in my imagination (perhaps mistakenly, though -- I don't know for sure of course, and these are the kinds of thing one can't help linking together) as being in the same sort of condition as my woman in the days after her confinement was over."

Context:
JLB 313, 2/12/1883: "I see this resemblance between your patient and mine then: 1) both have undergone a difficult operation and weren't entirely calm throughout that operation, despite the chloroform;
2) shortly before the operation both had huge shocks to the mind through anxiety and tension and unrest, and their morale suffered almost more than a nervous system can bear;
3) for both, rest for the soul and body is absolutely necessary for recovery and recuperation" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 268a, 2/12/1883: "I hope quite unnecessarily -- but if the melancholy persists, and the restlessness too, and the je ne sais quoi which is interfering with her recovery -- then my opinion is that a renewed assurance of your love and loyalty will ease her mind and enable her to get well again -- yes, I truly think her life may depend on it."
JLB 313, 2/12/1883: "I hope quite wrongly, but if the melancholy persists and the unrest and the je ne sais quoi that blocks recovery, then in my view it's a new assurance of your love and faithfulness that will reassure her and prepare her for recovery. Yes, in my view her life may depend on it." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 339, 5/2/1883 or 5/3/1883: "What you write concerning your patient is to some extent new and to some extent not. That you've written home about it, or rather will write, is something that will give you peace and is right."

Context:
BVG 290, 6/3/1883: "Well, it is not superfluous to say so, taking into account that Father, for instance, said to me at the time, 'There is something immoral in a liaison with a woman of a lower station in life' (which I do not think true, as I do not see any connection between the station in life and morality: the station in life concerns the world, morality concerns God) ..."
JLB 349, 6/3/1883: "Anyway, it isn't superfluous to say this when one takes into account that, for example, Pa once said to me, 'There's something immoral in a relationship with a woman of a lower class' (I don't think this is true, since I see no connection between class and morality" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 288, 6/3/1883: "But, Theo, now that in your case -- knowing that you have a permanent position and a good salary (nota bene, considerably more than their own) -- they raise the same objection, I can only say that I think it unutterably pretentious and downright ungodly."
JLB 348, 6/3/1883: "But now that they're raising this same objection in your case, Theo, you who have a permanent position and a good income (more substantial than their own, mark you), I find that unspeakably pretentious and utterly wicked" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 348, 6/3/1883: "You've fulfilled your duty to inform Pa and Ma, but now that they talk like this they give you the right, it seems to me, to exclude them from further confidences and to consult them less than you would if they were more reasonable."

Context:
JLB 348, 6/3/1883: "So it grieves and offends me, it again disappoints me terribly, that Pa and Ma said that. I would do I don't know what if I could get this undone somehow."

This passage, convoluted even by Vincent's standards, constitutes nothing more than a warm bath of noncommittal supportiveness while Vincent waits to see which way the winds of love blow. He is saying that Theo's earlier advice that Vincent should not marry Sien was correct given Vincent's circumstances at the time (i.e., not having the financial option of setting Sien up separately, as a mistress). Although he reminds Theo of his advice ("don't marry her") he is tendentiously reluctant to come down on whether it is good advice for Theo given Theo's circumstances. He seems to suggest that Theo could wait to marry her (allowing "love to ripen"), but carefully avoids advocating doing so. Elsewhere in the letter, he speaks vaguely of a positive result ("a good outcome," "happiness for you and for her") that certainly invokes marriage (ibid.).

In February, when Marie is recovering from her "operation," Theo's love-sympathy surges, and so does Vincent's support for a formal union: "Social standing and her vicissitudes help to shape her character and, it seems to me, make her suitable for you. Yes, if she gets better, you'll be doubly happy. And I wish from my heart that she becomes your wife." (JLB 316, 2/15/1883.) In the same letter, Vincent wishes for his brother "an unending inner happiness for both her and you" (ibid.). At the end of the month, Marie apparently expresses some reservations ("I think it's only half a good sign that she wants to go back to her country" [JLB 319, 2/23/1883]), which, of course, only inflames Theo's passion more, so that by mid-March, Vincent has notched up his support for marriage: " Two good people -- man and woman united -- wanting and intending the same, steeped in the same earnestness, what couldn't they achieve!" (JLB 331, 3/21/1883; emphasis in original).

After another month passes, however, Vincent returns to equivocation, suggesting in the very same letter that (1) Theo should marry Marie even if he doesn't love her ("At least it seems to me that one must make it a principle to continue with this protection once offered until rescue is complete, and to protect with one's own breast if necessary. Even without a particular love? Perhaps, yes -- in that case it's a marriage of convenience, so be it -- but not in the sense of a marriage that one enters into for gain." [JLB 336, 4/11/1883]); and (2) Theo should not marry Marie because then he could then not have sex with other women ("While still emphasizing that staying loyal comes first and foremost in all love, I remind you of your own words that 'marrying' (i.e. civil marriage) 'is such an odd thing.' These words of yours express exactly how it is, and on that point I declare I don't know which is better or worse, to meddle or not. It's what they call 'puzzling'. It puzzles me too -- and I for my part wish so much that one had nothing to do with that." [ibid.; emphasis in original.]), and because she might have a frightful family ("I believe it's well said that 'when one marries, one marries not only the woman herself but the family too', which is sometimes more or less fatal and wretched if they're nasty people" [ibid.]).

Only a few weeks later, Vincent is wishing his brother well on what appear to be nuptial plans for October: "Well, I sincerely hope that everything happens as you have planned towards October, and am glad the time has come, sincerely glad both for you and for her. I think this is for the best -- especially because I know details -- when one meets each other like that one should never again part." (JLB 339, 5/2/1883 or 5/3/1883; emphasis in original.) As to whether October is, in fact, a prospective wedding date, the phrase "the time has come" as well as the subsequent sentence ("when one meets each other like that one should never again part") both point to a marriage, especially given the distinction Vincent draws elsewhere between "permanent relationships" (i.e., marriage) and "relationships with no obligations" (mistress). In the same letter, Vincent also suggests that Theo bring Marie with him when he visits Holland in August ("I sincerely hope that this summer it will be possible for you to come to Holland with her" [ibid.]), an unthinkable suggestion if she is still merely his mistress at that time. 

The point, of course, is that women who become mistresses (instead of marrying) not only neglect their children, they also let their looks go to seed. Vincent's urging Theo to have a child by Marie is also just another way of urging him to marry (ibid.). It is very telling on this subject that when Dorus visits The Hague in May, Vincent reports the following exchange: "When Pa was here he spoke disapprovingly about my being with the woman. I said then that I didn't refuse to marry her" (JLB 348, 6/3/1883). In Vincent's defiant, Manichean argument, there are only two alternatives: either abandon a woman or marry her. 

Context:
JLB 348, 6/3/1883: "From a moral standpoint one might perhaps be entitled to object to marriage in certain cases where destitution in the absolute sense is to be expected, but in my view this objection is at once completely invalid morally as soon as there's no question of destitution in the literal sense. And in your case it would be ridiculous to expect immediate destitution." (Emphasis in original)

Context:
BVG 290, 6/3/1883: "... petites misères of various kinds have befallen me, and the 'precariousness' of such situations is so clear to me that, seeing it is only the beginning for you, I wanted to tell you once and for all that in my opinion it is right to try to save the life of such an unknown woman, even if one does not know beforehand how this woman will turn out later, nor what she will prove to be."
JLB 349, 6/3/1883: "I too suffered petty vexations of various kinds, and the 'precarious' nature of such matters has become so evident to me that I wanted to give you my opinion once and for all, while you're at the beginning, that I think it good that someone tries to save the life of a woman like that who isn't known to him, even though he doesn't know in advance how the woman will turn out later or what she'll prove to be like" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 349, 6/3/1883: "I believe that it's a thing not to be repented of to aim for a permanent relationship, in contrast to many who in principle only enter into relationships with no obligations. With a permanent relationship one finds great inner calm and is in harmony with nature in my view, whereas one goes against the eternal moral laws if one tries to evade the consequences of a relationship with a woman. ... A permanent relationship is often a source of renewed energy and capacity for work. One loses patronage but gains in capacity for work, and holds one's own in the end."

Context:
BVG 290, 6/3/1883: "Further, this letter is meant to tell you that I think it desirable that there be a child, for you will see that most people consider this a difficulty, which I do not see, just the reverse."
JLB 349, 6/3/1883: "At the same time this letter is also to add that I consider it DESIRABLE that there be a child. For there, too, you'll see that most people consider that a problem, which I do not, the opposite in fact." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 348, 6/3/1883: "Not to do this is a great fault in Pa, and it's inhuman of whoever does this, and doubly inhuman if a minister does it."

Context:
JLB 348, 6/3/1883: "Suppose someone like old Mr Goupil had an objection concerning money -- one expects no less from his standpoint, that of a rich dealer. But with Pa and Ma, who are supposed to be humble and content with simplicity, I think it very nasty of them to speak like that, and I'm ashamed."

Context:
JLB 348, 6/3/1883: "And to stand in the way of such a woman, to obstruct her rescue and salvation, is monstrous" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 348, 6/3/1883: "You and I likewise, we occasionally do something that's perhaps a sin, but after all we're not merciless and we do feel compassion ..."

Context:
BVG 290, 6/3/1883: "Look, this is a crisis nobody can escape, and it is a crisis which may cause some to become more firmly attached to each other, whereas on the other hand, it may cause others to become estranged by it, which is always a very deplorable thing to have happen once one has started. In short, sticking it out is not always an easy thing to do."
JLB 349, 6/3/1883: "You see this is a crisis no one can avoid, and a crisis through which some become more strongly attached to each other and, on the other hand, many also become separated, which is always most lamentable after one has once started. In short, persevering isn't always easy." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 343, 5/20/1883: "In addition, I was surprised by a very brief visit from Pa."

Context:
JLB 351, 6/7/1883: "The letter in question is Pa's first since his visit and is very amiable and cordial and was accompanied by a package containing a coat, a hat, a packet of cigars, a cake, a money order. In the letter was the outline of a sermon, by far the best part of which I thought was the biblical text, and which made less of an impression on me than a few words about the funeral of a farm labourer later on."

Context:
BVG 87a, 3/8/1877: "It was a glorious day when Pa was here recently; we took a walk together, and also went to the museum to see the pictures by [Ary] Scheffer."
JLB 107, 3/8/1877: "It was a wonderful day when Pa was here recently; we took a walk together and also went to the museum to see the paintings by Scheffer."

Context:
JLB 348, 6/3/1883: "When Pa was here he spoke disapprovingly about my being with the woman. I said then that I didn't refuse to marry her. Then Pa AVOIDED that and talked around the subject. He didn't want to come out with it and say that I should abandon her, but regretted that I had relations with her. I've hardly talked this over with Pa at all, as a matter of fact, precisely because I fail to see that he's exactly the person who has anything to do with this." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 351, 6/7/1883: "Pa writes not a syllable about it directly, and said not a word about it at the time of his visit. But not talking about it is in fact also rather abnormal." (Emphasis in original.)

BVG 299, 7/11/1883: Vincent waxes eloquent on this conciliatory image (see context), and one can hear in that eloquence the old, irresistible pull of reconciliation: "Leaving aside irrelevant differences in religious views, to me the figure of a poor village pastor is one of the most sympathetic in type and character that there is, and I wouldn't be myself if I didn't attack it sometime" (JLB 361, 7/11/1883). Once this image of reconciliation resurfaces, as it does when Theo's troubles bring Vincent temporarily closer to his father, it will be only a matter of time before Vincent goes home and tries yet again to realize it. We believe it is likely that a few drawings (Sower [F 1035 JH 374], Weed Burner [F none JH 376], Gardener [F none JH 380]), lithographs (Weed Burner [1660 JH 377], and Gardener [F 1659, JH 379]) and one watercolor (Weed Burner [F 1035a JH 375]), from around the same time (July 1883), come out of the same new wave of nostalgia for home that will ultimately draw Vincent to Nuenen in time for Christmas, and are related to Vincent's fantasy of doing a portrait of his father (JLB 362, 7/13/1883). Vincent's insistence that it would be a "type," not a portrait, is undoubtedly a defensive posture to ensure that no one expects the drawing to actually resemble his father -- always a point of sensitivity for Vincent. 

Context:
JLB 361, 7/11/1883: "Something I'd like to have terribly much, and which I feel I can do, given certain conditions of patient posing, is the figure of Pa on a path on the heath, the figure severely drawn with character and, as I say, a stretch of brown heath with a narrow, white, sandy path running across it, and a sky applied with some passion and evenly expressed. Then, for instance, Pa and Ma arm in arm -- in an autumn setting -- or with a beech hedge with dry leaves. I'd also like to have the figure of Pa when I do a country funeral, which I'm definitely planning, although it would be a great deal of trouble."

Context:
JLB 351, 6/7/1883: "For perhaps, perhaps Pa himself is conscious of having gone a little too far, or worried about how you'll take it, or afraid that you won't come. Of course I don't know how matters stand and am only guessing, but I do think this, Pa is an old man and deserves to have people cheer him up if they can. You know well enough that in my view you ought to be loyal to the woman; there's no question of my saying anything less about that than I did, but do what's right and don't blame Pa if he's mistaken. That's what I wanted to say. Don't even refer to the fact that he's mistaken unless he keeps going on, perhaps he'll retract of his own accord."

Context:
BVG 291, 6/5/1883-6/6/1883: "I suppose you will take Father's words in the same way of your own accord, so that I'm not telling you anything new, but I should be glad if, with a little good will, peace might be preserved."
JLB 351, 6/7/1883: "I believe you'll have your own, similar view of Pa's words, and so I'm not telling you anything new, but because I spoke so sharply about it I wanted you to know at the same time that I don't do such a thing with pleasure but with regret, and would be glad if peace could be kept with a little geniality."

Vincent implies that Marie's mother will probably encourage her daughter either to leave Theo or to demand money from him, but not to marry him: "if the woman had left her family completely, you could expect fewer problems in the future, I believe" (ibid.; emphasis in original). Vincent also suggests that the mother will fear damage to the family reputation if Marie continues as Theo's mistress. (He quotes Zola: "Yet these women are not bad, the impossibility of living a straight life in the midst of the gossip and calumny of the suburbs is the cause of their faults and their fall" [ibid.].) Theo's attitude toward Marie's mother does, apparently, take a turn for the worse, as Vincent issues a much stronger warning in his next letter: "keep an eye on the relations between your patient and her mother. ... It would surprise me if she doesn't share in the general foolishness. And your patient the general female tendency to make a mistake when deciding what they'll be guided by." (JLB 338, 4/30/1883.)

Marie's father is an even more shadowy figure in the record, but there is a strong suggestion that he entered the picture later and threatened to cause trouble, perhaps unhappy with the financial terms Theo offered Marie. In a letter from October, Dorus writes Theo this opaque expression of concern: "Did you hear anything more from that father? Prepare yourself for those difficulties and be wise and courageous." (b2245 V/1982, ''Gogh, Theodorus en Anna C. van'' to ''Gogh, Theo van'', 10/1/1883.) Two weeks later, he inquired again: "Also, about the other subject. What is the father doing?" (b2246 V/1982, ''Gogh, Theodorus van'' to ''Gogh, Theo van'', 10/15/1883.) The timing, the lack of context, and the furtiveness all suggest that these are both references to Marie's opportunistic father. 

Context:
BVG 332, 10/12/1883: "What is the purpose -- your own purpose and Father's, Mother's, Wil's, Marie's and mine? What do we all want? We want to pull through, acting righteously; we all want to arrive at a clear position, not a false position, don't we?"
JLB 394, 10/12/1883: "What is your goal and Pa's, Ma's, Wil's, Marie's and mine? What do we all want? We want, acting decently, to keep our heads above water, we all want to arrive at a clear position, not a false position, don't we?"

By May 1993, when he went to Van Rappard's studio in Utrecht, Vincent had already conceived of these large-scale figural works: "Now at the moment I have many studies and 2 or 3 more important compositions are dawning in my mind for which I probably have most of the material in my studies" (JLB 341, 4/9/1883; emphasis in original). On his visit to Van Rappard's studio, Vincent found images similar to the ones Van der Weele was doing. As a result, he returned with redoubled determination to attempt a large, finished composition consisting of multiple figures drawn from his studies. He wrote Van Rappard, "I need to tell you again that the visit to you raised my spirits enormously. I intend to make a start on some larger compositions too, and I've already started on one of them. That is peat diggers in the dunes [Peat Diggers in the Dunes (F 1031 JH 363)]." (JLB 346, 5/25/1889; emphasis in original.) He wrote Theo, too: "I've come back from Rappard full of plans and full of hope, precisely because with him I already see the fruits of the studies, namely combinations of several figures in more important compositions" (JLB 344, 5/21/1883; emphasis in original).

Van Rappard's encouragement of Vincent's new ambition ("When I talked to Rappard, he said 'those very first drawings of yours were good after all, you should do something in that genre again'" [JLB 347, 5/30/1883]) was no doubt given additional weight by the simultaneous exhibition of his painting Tile Painters in Amsterdam starting May 1 -- notwithstanding Vincent's vociferous denunciation of his friend for taking part in an exhibition (see Chapter 17). By June, Vincent was overwhelming in his praise of Van Rappard's work ("Do you know what Rappard's drawing is like? It's as if one were reading a description of a factory by Zola or [Alphonse] Daudet or [Camille] Lemonnier" [JLB 355, 6/16/1883]) and there is good reason to suspect that his example had overtaken Van der Weele's in Vincent's adhesive artistic ambitions.

Moreover, these works were hardly the step forward that Theo was pressing for, but rather the latest in a series of failed efforts to do the group scenes that would justify his years of "studies" and secure an unending supply of models. As such they represented the fulfillment of an artistic ambition expressed in one of Vincent's earliest letters from The Hague: "I have around 12 figures of diggers and people working in the potato field, and I'm wondering if I couldn't make something of them" (JLB 199, 1/8/1882 or 1/9/1882). This ambition echoes all the way back to the birth of his career in the Borinage. In August 1880, Vincent attempted two elaborate group drawings: one "of miners, male and female thrutchers, going to the pit in the morning, in the snow, on a path beside a thorn-hedge: passing shadows, dimly visible in the dusk. In the background, the large mine buildings and the slag heap are becoming indistinct against the sky" [JLB identify this drawing as Miners (F 831 JH Juv. 11)]; the other ("the pendant") "is of the miners' return ... an effect of brown silhouettes encircled by light against a streaky sunset sky." (This second drawing remains unidentified [JLB 156, 8/20/1880.)

Vincent was clearly not happy with the product in either case: of the first, he writes, "I'd very much like to execute the drawing in question better than I have done"; and of the second, "it's less successful as it stands" (ibid.). These early efforts, or related ones that Vincent did a few months later in Brussels, may be the drawings Van Rappard refers to when he tells Vincent in May 1883, "those very first drawings of yours were good after all, you should do something in that genre again" (JLB 347, 5/30/1883). Exactly which drawings Vincent is referring to is not clear. He refers to two ("Winter Tale," "Shadows passing") that apparently have not survived, unless they are the two sketches that Vincent sent to Theo along with letter JLB 162 (January 1881): En Route (F none JH Juv. 15) and Before the Hearth (F none JH Juv. 16) (JLB 347, n. 3).

Somewhat surprisingly, he admits to Theo that these new compositions represent a return and fulfillment of previous ambitions, not a step forward. "For a few years now I've been toiling solely on the figure in order to get some action and also some structure into it. And precisely because of that toil, I had rather lost my enthusiasm for composing and for making my imagination work once more." (JLB 347, 5/30/1883.) Of course, this may be Vincent's effort to get credit for achieving Theo's goal of more elaboration while at the same time vindicating his previous efforts. Perhaps recognizing the recherché nature of the new (1883) compositions, Vincent tried to frame them to Theo as fulfillments of these much earlier ambitions and therefore signs of pronounced progress. He cast the new drawings as a direct response to Theo's criticisms of the previous ones: " You said at the time that you thought the action of the figures was insufficiently expressed -- do you remember? ... I believe you'll find something of the earliest time in [the new work], but just with more action." (ibid.; emphasis in original.)

But the diggers and haulers that Theo saw in the finished drawings -- awkward caricatures crowded into unnatural tableaux -- all bore a striking resemblance to the single-figure studies that his brother had been turning out for as long as he could remember. Vincent revised at least one of the drawings in response to Theo's criticism of a letter sketch: "I can inform you that my first composition, of which I sent you a croquis, has progressed to a level where it's nearly finished. I did the drawing in charcoal first, then I worked it over with the brush and printer's ink. So there's quite some force in it, and I believe that the second time one looks at it one will be able to find more than one saw the first time." (JLB 348, 6/3/1883.) 

Shortly thereafter, Vincent reports progress: "I've got as far with the sketch of the dung-heap as more or less getting into it that sheep-shed effect of inside against outside -- the light under the dark sheds -- and the group of women emptying their dustbins is beginning to develop and take shape" (JLB 351, 6/7/1883). "Well, since I last wrote I've slaved away at that drawing of the dung-heap. It's a splendid sight. ... [I] am now working again on that. I have to get up early in the morning, for that's when I see the effects I want. If only I could get it as I have it in my mind." (JLB 352, 6/11/1883.) Vincent did two versions of this image, the second of which was apparently the last of the large, group compositions he made at this time (JLB 355, 6/16/1883). The related surviving drawings are Garbage Dump (F none JH 369) and Garbage Dump (F none JH 370).

We would suggest that there are many other examples. In addition to the ones Hulsker cites, we see direct quotation in Peat Diggers from the following previous studies: Sand Diggers (F 922 JH 114), Digger (F 906 JH 260], Digger (F 907 JH 261), Digger (F 1656 JH 262), Man Carrying Peat (F 964 JH 273), and Scheveningen Woman with Wheeelbarrow (F 1021 JH 362). This suggests that there were many studies in his studio at the time, beyond those that have survived, on which some of the figures in these drawings were surely based. In addition, his sketchbooks were filled with related images, mostly of diggers, going back at least as far as Etten (e.g., Digger [F 859 JH 29], Digger [F 150 JH 30], Digger [F 860 JH 38], Digger and Figure of a Woman [F 150 JH 39], Digger [F 860a JH 42], Digger [F 855 JH 43], Digger [F 866 JH 54], Digger [F 151 JH 55], Torn-Up Street with Diggers [F 930a JH 131], Diggers in Torn-Up Street [F None JH 132], Man Stooping with Stick or Spade [F 12 JH 185], and Woman Digging [F 275 JH 337]). Although these surviving images do not exactly match the figures in the large group scenes from 1883, they suggest the existence of many related drawings, presumably lost, that Vincent may have used in piecing together these artificial aggregations. There is no indication that Vincent did not recreate these same poses, yet again, in his studio in May and June, but the existence of so many precedents does suggest that he may not have undertaken extensive new observation at the worksites sufficient to produce any significant new vocabulary of poses. 

The drawing Vincent describes does not survive, apparently because he was waiting until the potato harvest began later, "towards the autumn," to finish it (JLB 353, 6/15/1883). However, he did do some related studies: "I've studied it from close up and have a man who is sticking one of these forks in the ground (the first movement), another who is pulling out the potato plant (the second movement), then a female figure in the same action and a third male figure who is throwing the potatoes into the basket" (JLB 356, 6/22/1883; emphasis in original). In late June, he did a preliminary drawing on a much-reduced scale: "looking for something ... namely the potato grubbers on their knees and working with short forks, about whom I recently wrote to you that I was doing studies for them. I now have a sketch of them on the easel with 4 figures, 3 men and 1 woman" (JLB 357, 6/27/1883). This apparently refers to Potato Grubbers, Four Figures (F 1034 JH 372, June 1883, medium unknown, size unknown, location unknown) and a letter sketch with the same title (Potato Grubbers, Four Figures, F 296 JH 373, June 1883, Van Gogh Museum). 

Context:
JLB 353, 6/15/1883: "Just while I'm doing these studies, a plan for an even larger drawing, namely of the potato-digging, begins to take root in me."

Context:
JLB 353, 6/15/1883: "It's to be a coal-yard on the Rijnspoor site as I see it from the window of the studio. There are heaps of coal and fellows working in them, and people come with small wheelbarrows to buy a sack of coal; trade is very busy some days, and especially in the winter, with the snow it was a charming scene."

Context:
JLB 348, 6/3/1883: "I can inform you that my first composition [Peat Diggers in the Dunes (F 1031 JH 364)], of which I sent you a croquis [JLB 347, 5/30/1883], has progressed to a level where it's nearly finished. I did the drawing in charcoal first, then I worked it over with the brush and printer's ink. So there's quite some force in it, and I believe that the second time one looks at it one will be able to find more than one saw the first time."

Context:
JLB 347, 5/30/1883: "I went into the dunes with Van der Weele recently. There we found a place where the dunes are being levelled for sand, a fine sight with fellows and wheelbarrows."

In July, Vincent reiterates that his goal is to make elaborate drawings when he sends Theo a letter sketch of one such drawing with the following note: "I'm also considering having today's gardener done as well, for that figure is much, much more detailed than in this scratch" (JLB 362, 7/13/1883). Vincent also telegraphs to Theo his dedication to elaborateness in the way he decribes the drawings: "The row of diggers should be just a row of dark shapes at first sight or from a distance, but highly finished and varied in movement and type. For instance, a young, plain fellow opposite one of those really typical old Scheveningers in a white and brown patched suit with an old top hat, one of those matt black ones that they wear low in the neck. For instance, a short, stocky figure of a woman in sober black with a white cap opposite a tall grass-mower in white trousers, light blue smock and straw hat -- a bald crown next to a young woman." (JLB 353, 6/15/1883.)

Whether Vincent has genuinely dedicated himself to greater elaboration or is just attempting to accommodate Theo is a difficult question. The following passage from a letter to Van Rappard suggests that Vincent's concessions on the issue may have arisen more from appeasement than from conviction: "I even do my best not to give any details THEN -- because then the reverie goes out of it. If Tersteeg and my brother &c. then say: so what's that, grass or cabbages? -- I say: glad YOU can't make it out." (JLB 437, 3/13/1884; emphasis in original.) In an earlier letter to Van Rappard, Vincent wrote, "Now I want to continue with those [large group drawings] I'm working on to get them to the same level, if possible, by the time my brother comes" (JLB 354, 6/15/1883). 

Context:
JLB 350, 6/5/1883: "The scene at the dung-heap is splendid but very complicated and difficult, and will be a hard struggle."

Context:
JLB 353, 6/15/1883: "The row of diggers should be just a row of dark shapes at first sight or from a distance, but highly finished and varied in movement and type."

Context:
BVG 287, 5/30/1883: "I hope that when this is finished, you will not mind taking it with you some day to show to the illustration people, and that such a thing will please you more than those single studies."
JLB 347, 5/30/1883: "I believe you may not be opposed to taking this one when it's finished to show to the people at the illustrated magazines. And will take greater pleasure from something like this than from separate studies."

Context:
BVG 290, 6/3/1883: "And also, I should like so very much to wash on Torchon again, probably before your arrival too. For you must not suppose that I have dismissed the idea of doing watercolours or painting."
JLB 349, 6/3/1883: "I should like so very much to wash on Torchon again, probably before your arrival too. For you must not suppose that I have dismissed the idea of doing watercolors or painting."

In March, under pressure to justify the expenses of the changes in the studio, Vincent argued that the more modulated light provided by the new shutters would be ideal for watercolor ("the studio is now infinitely more suitable for colour" [JLB 324, 3/4/1883]). At the same time, in response to a specific prompting from Theo ("I didn't want to answer your question about watercolour in words alone" [JLB 322, 3/2/1883]), Vincent sent his brother a watercolor accompanied by a torrent of explanation and excuse. Although it was an old one, not one recently done, Vincent claimed that it proved that "I see things in strong colours" (ibid.). (He dismissed his more recent efforts as "various failures" [ibid.; emphasis in original].) He boldly re-pledged himself to his brother's preferred medium: "I like watercolour enough never to abandon it completely, I mess about with it constantly," but used the weather as an excuse for yet another delay: "Spring is coming and I'd like to do some painting again. So that is in part why I'm not watercolouring at the moment." (ibid.)

He explained his on-again, off-again watercolor efforts as a deliberate strategy. "When I've been drawing for a month I do a few watercolours, for instance, by way of throwing out the sounding lead" (ibid.). Yet, in the same letter, he couldn't resist lobbying his brother against the intractable medium: "It's not pleasant to do sketches like the enclosed ... I hate this so much myself that I do them very rarely, purely to see whether I've found this or that and how far I've got." (ibid.) Still, in the very next letter, he offered a "plan for a new watercolour," arguing again that the improved light in the studio inspired him to express himself in color and mustering yet another facsimile of enthusiasm: "I hope to reach a higher standard with this one than in the one I sent. Shall I succeed??? I can't tell in advance." (JLB 323, 3/3/1883.) The next day, he did, indeed, begin a watercolor of three figures (a boy, a girl, and a woman) in his studio "soup distribution" (JLB 324, 3/4/1883). But the effort ended in failure as the "watercolour became too unclear" (ibid.).

He attributed this latest failure to unsuitable paper, but could not avoid the larger implications: "This drawing therefore leaves the question of watercolour where it was" (ibid.). The next day, he confided to Van Rappard, "I'll concentrate more and more on Black and White" (JLB 325, 3/5/1883), claiming the reason was the expenses, not the failures. To Theo, however, he continued to express enthusiasm, assuring him that he, Vincent, intended to use some extra money "to get everything back in order for watercolours" (JLB 327, 3/11/1883). But his very next effort, in mid-March, again ended in disappointment. "I don't think it lively or vigorous enough," he told Theo, substituting a letter sketch for the image itself (JLB 330, 3/18/1883). He does not try watercolor again until mid-May after a visit to Van Rappard's studio where he sees many successful examples ("outstanding in sentiment, highly original" [JLB 344, 5/21/1883]). But the effort once again leaves him pleading: "Ah, Theo. I'll get the hang of watercolour one day or another" (JLB 343, 5/20/1883). 

Context:
BVG 299, 7/11/1883: " By way of a change did a few watercolours again in the countryside recently, a little cornfield and a bit of a potato field."
JLB 361, 7/11/1883: " Of late I've done a few watercolours outdoors again for a change, a cornfield and a bit of a potato field."

Context:
BVG 307, 7/29/1883-7/30/1883: "Though, after our last letters, I think less about the future than about the present, and I still hope that when you come we shall decide that I shall make a number of small watercolours for you, and perhaps some small oil paintings, just as an experiment."
JLB 369, 7/29/1883-7/30/1883: "When, since our recent letters, I reflect less on the future than on the more or less present, I still have hopes that when you come we'll take the decision that I should do a number of small watercolours for you just to try it out, and perhaps smaller paintings."

Context:
BVG 292, 6/10/1883: "But that light effect is really there because the light falls from overhead between the sheds on the figures in the pathways. It would be a splendid thing to paint."
JLB 352, 6/11/1883: "Yet that light effect really is there, since the light falls from above between the sheds onto the figures that are on the paths. It would be a splendid sight to paint."

Context:
BVG 299, 7/11/1883: "I must earn a bit of money so that I can start something new and also do some painting, as I am just in the mood for it now."
JLB 361, 7/11/1883: "I must try to earn a little so that I can make a start on something new and do some painting too, for I'm just in the mood for that."

Context:
JLB 370, 8/3/1883: "But otherwise, as I've already written to you briefly, I'm outdoors a great deal, looking and doing landscape studies or seascape studies to have a distraction from the figure for once, and feel fine doing that."

Context:
JLB 361, 7/11/1883: "Of late I've done a few watercolours outdoors again for a change, a cornfield and a bit of a potato field."

Context:
JLB 370, 8/3/1883: "I'm outdoors a great deal, looking and doing landscape studies or seascape studies to have a distraction from the figure for once, and feel fine doing that."

BVG 298, 7/6/1883-7/8/1883: Vincent writes in early July: "this week I did a few landscape studies as well, one yesterday at De Bock's [Théophile Emile Achille de Bock, 1851-1904; Dutch artist], a potato field in the dunes" (JLB 360, 7/7/1883). We believe this is Potato Field in the Dunes (F 1037 JH 390, July-August, 1883, brush, ink, heightened with white, 10.8 x 16.5 in., 27.5 x 42 cm., Otterlo, Kröller-Müller Museum). For unknown reasons, Hulsker (The New Complete Van Gogh, p. 92) dates this work to "August 1883?" in the caption, but in the text (p. 88) links it to the reference in letter JLB 360 from early July. 

Context:
JLB 360, 7/7/1883: "To give an example, this week I did a few landscape studies as well, one yesterday at De Bock's, a potato field in the dunes; the day before a spot under the chestnut trees; another, a yard with heaps of coal."

Context:
BVG 307, 7/29/1883-7/30/1883: "Between the village and the beach are bushes of a deep bronzed green, tangled by the sea wind, and so striking that more than once one thinks, oh, now that's the 'Buisson' by Ruysdael."
JLB 369, 7/29/1883-7/30/1883: "Well, there between the village and the sea stand bushes of a deep, bronze-like green blown about by the sea wind, and so real that more than one makes one think: Oh, now this is Ruisdael's Bush."

Context:
BVG 307, 7/29/1883-7/30/1883: "This is a scratch of the path to the beach."
JLB 369, 7/29/1883-7/30/1883: "See, this is a scratch of the path to the sea."

When Theo does not respond to this scheme, Vincent proposes a different one, equally elaborate: "You know that I give lessons to a surveyor [Antoine Philippe Furnée. Well, his father [Hendrik Jan Furnée] is a chemist and deals in paints; he's a stockist for Paillard, and supplies Mauve among others. I've never had anything for teaching the son, but the father has often expressed his readiness to help. I took him up on this and said the following to him. That I had no doubt that there must be a fair number of tubes in his stock that were no longer in demand. That I could use them even so, and that I would take them from him for Paillard's net price, on condition that in future he also supplied me with the saleable tubes on the same terms. At first he raised objections, but then he took another look at his stock and I reached an agreement with him along the above lines. I'm taking nearly 300 tubes from him, including several carmine and ultramarine, for instance, for less (10 guilders off the whole lot, which would cost over 50 guilders at Paillard's net price) than Paillard's NET price, so the 300 tubes will cost me 40 guilders. For which I also gain the right to order all the paint I need in future for Paillard's net price, thus saving 33 1/3 %. And I get that discount of 33 1/3 not only on oil paints but on watercolours too." (JLB 369, 7/29/1883 - 7/30/1883; emphasis in original.) As it turns out, most of this paint was bought on credit and Vincent never did pay the bill before leaving The Hague. Furnée continues to dun him for it in Drenthe and Nuenen. 

Context:
JLB 369, 7/29/1883-7/30/1883: "I would take them from him for Paillard's net price, on condition that in future he also supplied me with the saleable tubes on the same terms. At first he raised objections, but then he took another look at his stock and I reached an agreement with him along the above lines. I'm taking nearly 300 tubes from him."

Context:
JLB 363, 7/22/1883: "Now that I was doing it again I took more pleasure in things from last year, and have hung painted things in the studio again. ... As you know, last summer I painted -- now I've hung up several studies again, because when I was doing new ones I saw that there was something in them after all."

Context:
BVG 301, 7/22/1883: "You know I painted last summer -- I have hung several of these studies on the walls again, because while making new ones, it struck me there was something in them after all."
JLB 363, 7/22/1883: "As you know, last summer I painted -- now I've hung up several studies again, because when I was doing new ones I saw that there was something in them after all."

Context:
JLB 368, 7/27/1883: "For it's a fact that at present ALL my work is TOO MEAGRE AND TOO DRY" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 368, 7/27/1883: "For it's a fact that at present ALL my work is TOO MEAGRE AND TOO DRY. That has become crystal clear to me recently, and I don't doubt for a moment that a general, thorough change is needed. I plan to consult you again, when you've seen this year's work, as to whether you agree with me about a few measures, and if you do then I think we'll succeed in getting back on our feet. We mustn't doubt but have collier's faith." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 293, 6/13/1883-6/14/1883: "As you know, I had repressed my desire to make compositions for a long time, and in that respect a revolution has taken place in me now because the time was ripe for it, and I breathe more freely now that I have loosened the reins which I had put on myself."
JLB 353, 6/15/1883: "I had long restrained myself from composing, as you know, and in that respect a revolution has now come about in me because it was time it came, and I breathe more freely now that I've slightly slackened the rein I had imposed on myself."

Context:
JLB 348, 6/3/1883: "If I could take a model more often, I could do them far, far better. So, old chap, as for my not needing you one time, I need it more than ever, but I would point out the opportunity we have if we persevere."

Context:
JLB 349, 6/3/1883: "I have hopes of making good progress because I'm getting some results with the lithographic crayon &c. that are stronger and better than the earlier drawings. Just a little further and I believe they'll be able and willing to use me for illustration work of one kind or another."

Context:
BVG 296, 6/23/1883-6/28/1883: "I want something broad and audacious, with silhouette and relief in it. That is what I am seeking more and more."
JLB 357, 6/27/1883: "I wanted to have something broad and bold in silhouette and delineation in it. I'm searching for that more and more."

Context:
BVG 287, 5/30/1883: "I want so much to make something comforting, something that makes one think."
JLB 347, 5/30/1883: "I feel such a need to make something pleasing, something that makes one think."

Context:
BVG 308, 8/2/1883: "You are right in saying that what I wrote you about the finances weighs on your mind, but on the other hand, we cannot now be far from the moment when I shall make something that is saleable, even if it be for a small price."
JLB 370, 8/3/1883: "You rightly say that what I wrote to you about financial matters is worrying, but on the other hand we can't be far from making a thing or two that can be sold, even if for relatively little."

Later in the same passage, Vincent suggests that Theo show his drawings to "friend Wisselingh sometime, ... For supposing he thought they were suitable for this purpose, it might be possible to come to an arrangement with him for more." (ibid.) Elbert Jan van Wisselingh, son of a prominent Amsterdam dealer, had worked with Vincent at Goupil in Paris before joining Cottier's gallery in London, where Vincent visited him also in 1876. In February 1882, Wisselingh had sent Vincent "regards" from London (JLB 206, 2/25/1882). Later that year, he returned to Paris and opened a gallery at 52, rue Laffitte, not far from Theo's gallery on the boulevard Montmartre (Nonne, p. 41). The move came as a surprise to Vincent when Theo wrote that he had seen Wisselingh in March 1883: "I'm pleased that you've spoken to friend Wisselingh -- so he's come back to Paris -- still in Cottier's firm?" (JLB 331, 3/21/1883). Finally, citing his latest group drawings as evidence of his "ability and energy" for illustration (JLB 327, 3/11/1883), he revived the grand plan for a book of lithographs: "although I no longer talk so much about that plan of figures of workmen for lithography, I've borne it in mind all the time" (JLB 333, 3/29/1883 and 4/1/1883). Actually, Vincent revives this plan twice in 1883: first in March and again in May, suggesting that, in his mind, it never died.

In March, he reports a chance encounter with an unidentified printer at Jos. Smulders & Co and puts his ambitions in the printer's mouth: "he asked me on the street whether I was going to do some more [lithographs]. ... It often seems to me that something that would have a raison d'être could be made from figures of workmen." (ibid.; emphasis in original.) Apparently reluctant to renew a direct campaign so soon after the recent failure, he waxes poetic to Theo about the lithographic process: "I've always thought printing a miracle, the kind of miracle by which a grain of wheat becomes an ear. An everyday miracle -- all the greater because it's everyday. One sows a single drawing on the stone or in the etching plate and one reaps a multitude." (ibid.) But his ultimate purpose is unmistakable: "Can you understand that it's something I think about a great deal while at work, and that I have a great love of it?" (ibid.). He explicitly disavows any current intention to pursue the plan, however, saying that he wants to work on improving "the quality of the seed (namely the drawings themselves). ... I haven't got any further with making a final plan, since I find the execution of it more interesting." (ibid.)

In early May, however, the plan re-emerges, again indirectly: "I saw with great interest a publication, Le Salon 1883, a first issue of a series of illustrations, some deuced good. Done with that new way of reproduction. I've subscribed to it, although I have enough expenses, with a view to what I'm doing myself at present with the printer's ink and lithographic crayon. Listen, I definitely believe that some of my things would do well if reproduced in that way." (JLB 342, 5/10/1883.) In the same letter, he asks Theo to convey some questions about the reproductive method to the Paris printer Buhot: "perhaps I'll write down a detailed statement of several matters about which I need information, and you could take some of my studies together with that to show to Buhot, for instance, who would then probably shed light on a few things for me" (ibid). The large group drawings of the summer give Vincent the confidence to push openly to revive the project. Referring to the studies (e.g., Sand Diggers in Dekkersduin near The Hague [F 1029 JH 366] and Sand Diggers in Dekkersduin near The Hague [F 1028 JH 367]) he did for the second of the studies in this series (an unknown drawing Vincent describes as "similar" to Peat Diggers in the Dunes [F 1031 JH 363]), Vincent writes, "I would very much like them to be reproduced" (JLB 348, 6/3/1883). 

Context:
JLB 349, 6/3/1883: "One can't help having 'visions of the future.' Even if one is convinced that nothing can be foreseen with certainty or sufficient accuracy. Yet what you wrote to me today could have a great influence on my future."

Context:
BVG 308, 8/2/1883: "I should be very astonished if, in the long run, some people did not alter their opinion about my doing or planning absurd things."
JLB 370, 8/3/1883: "It would greatly surprise me if some didn't finally begin to give up the idea that I intend or am doing something absurd."

Context:
BVG 288, 6/3/1883: "The work is an absolute necessity for me. I can't put it off, I don't care for anything but the work; that is to say, the pleasure in something else ceases at once and I become melancholy when I can't go on with my work."
JLB 348, 6/3/1883: "For me work is an absolute necessity, indeed I can't really drag it out, I take no more pleasure in anything than in work, that's to say, pleasure in other things stops immediately and I become melancholy if I can't get on with the work."

This passage contains familiar themes of self-justification ("I can't help it") as well as pleas for patience ("one must go through many periods") and for lowered demands ("didn't make demands"). Yet beneath the manipulative hyperbole, the passage also rings with genuine pathos ("I'm just a burden to you"). In fact, both readings are probably correct. Moreover, the inquiry may be misguided in that it implies that Vincent's mixed motivations somehow dilute the pain and pity of his dilemma. We think the reverse is true. Vincent surely recognized that his dependence on Theo rendered his pleas suspect, and he probably suspected them himself. What more agonizing fate could there be for a man with only one friend in the world than to doubt the authenticity of that friendship? 

Context:
BVG 302, 7/22/1883: "And now I thought, I am sorry that I didn't fall ill and die in the Borinage that time, instead of taking up painting, for I am only a burden to you."
JLB 364, 7/22/1883: "Now I thought that I was sorry that I didn't get ill and give up the ghost somewhere in the Borinage years ago instead of painting. For I'm just a burden to you ..."

Context:
JLB 356, 6/22/1883: "You can just imagine Iterson, with a friendly-looking, wise-like face, with his head a little to one side and expressing his feeling gently and sweetly with a certain undulating weightiness. I was rather entertained by his observations."

Context:
JLB 356, 6/22/1883: "Eerelman, the painter, was also there and was more or less in agreement with Iterson, which seemed to me entirely understandable."

Context:
BVG303, 7/23/1883: "Now I have spoken to Blommers about my painting -- he wants me to keep it up; personally I also feel that having finished those last ten or twelve large drawings, I have reached a point where I must change my course instead of making more in the same way."
JLB 365, 7/23/1883: "I've talked to Blommers about painting. He wants me to carry on; I myself also feel that after having done these 10 or 12 large drawings I'm now at a point where I must change my manner rather than do more in the same vein."

Context:
JLB 360, 7/7/1883: "If you're like me you sometimes have a sudden desire to look up someone you haven't seen in a long time. This is what happened to me with De Bock, and I wanted to write to you about what I saw at his place."

Context:
BVG 298, 7/6/1883-7/8/1883: "Then there were some pictures more 'blondly' brushed, several pretty studies."
JLB 360, 7/7/1883: "There were also a few paintings with blonder accents, various pleasing studies."

Context:
BVG 298, 7/6/1883-7/8/1883: "Then there were some pictures more 'blondly' brushed, several pretty studies."
JLB 360, 7/7/1883: "There were also a few paintings with blonder accents, various pleasing studies."

Context:
BVG 298, 7/6/1883-7/8/1883: "The first thing I saw in the hall was a large sketch -- an enormous windmill covered with snow, near a kind of ditch or canal. Half romantic, half realistic -- a combination of styles which I don't dislike. But far from finished -- though energetically put down with a fine, strong effect in it. In short, a thing one would always look at with pleasure, and I don't mind it's being unfinished. I should like that thing of his just as it is, in my studio, because it is so impressive."
JLB 360, 7/7/1883: "The first thing I saw there in the hall was a large sketch -- an enormous windmill, entirely covered in snow, beside a kind of canal or waterway. Half romantic, half realistic -- a combination of styles I find not unsympathetic. But it was far from finished -- but energetically tackled, and there was a fine, forceful effect in it. Anyway, something that one always sees with pleasure, and it doesn't bother me that it isn't finished -- I'd like to have that piece by him hanging in my studio just as it is, because it's so expressive."

The question arises as to why De Bock, who had often been the butt of Vincent's defensive criticisms and no doubt joined other Hague artists in shunning Vincent for his dress and behavior, should suddenly be so solicitous of Vincent. We do not accept the explanation often inferred from Vincent's rosy account that the two men shared common artistic ground. Their lifestyles, their interests, their ambitions, and their work could not have been more different (as Vincent makes clear). We think it more likely that De Bock's generosity to Vincent was designed to curry Theo's favor. De Bock's submission to the 1883 Paris Salon (A Ferryboat in Holland) had received mixed reviews and failed to sell (JLB 360, 7/7/1883). Probably unconsciously, Vincent seems to acknowledge this connection when he writes Theo, "[De Bock] asked after you warmly, and I said you'd probably visit him this summer. His big painting in the Salon not sold of course." (ibid.; emphasis in original.) 

Context:
BVG 298, 7/6/1883-7/8/1883: "But now I think I will ask De Bock to let me have a corner of his garret as a pied-à-terre, and to keep my drawing material there, so that I needn't drag it along every time.”
JLB 360, 7/7/1883: "I'm thinking of asking De Bock to let me have a corner of his attic as a pied-à-terre and then leaving my equipment there so that I don't need to lug it around."

Context:
JLB 360, 7/7/1883: "I'm thinking of asking De Bock to let me have a corner of his attic as a pied-à-terre and then leaving my equipment there so that I don't need to lug it around. If one arrives tired (if one didn't need to work immediately that slight fatigue wouldn't matter, of course), the work is sometimes weak and the hand is none too steady. One is just hot and tired enough to be bothered by it."

Context:
JLB 360, 7/7/1883: "So that pied-à-terre at De Bock's and taking the tram more often might perhaps be enough to be able to do something with the sea and Scheveningen after all, more seriously than I've done so far. ... I think it will work out, to be at Scheveningen often this autumn with a pied-à-terre at his place. We'll see -- but I yearn very much to do something with the beach."

Context:
JLB 349, 6/3/1883: "And for my part, to lighten your burden, I wrote to C.M. (although I took no pleasure in that, I assure you) and wanted to ask you, could you perhaps write a word to Tersteeg telling him that I'm working on those large drawings."

BVG 289, 6/4/1883-6/5/1883: Vincent sent sketches of Peat Diggers in the Dunes [F 1031 JH 363] and a second, unknown composition that Vincent describes elsewhere as "a similar scene, but just the team of workmen labouring" (JLB 348, 6/3/1883). The first sketch (after Peat Diggers in the Dunes) is unknown. The second, according to JLB, is likely Sand Diggers in Dekkersduin near The Hague (F 1029 JH 366) (JLB 350, 6/5/1883; n. 1). 

Context:
JLB 350, 6/5/1883: "I've sent small sketches of the two compositions to C.M. My hope is that this will perhaps result in his being ready to help carry out the whole of the plan I have, namely to do a series of drawings of work in the dunes."

Context:
BVG 290, 6/3/1883: "And even if we don't sell these, I think they might become the means of finding new connections, and perhaps of re-establishing relations with C. M. or Tersteeg or Mauve."
JLB 349, 6/3/1883: "And even if we don't sell these, I think it could be a way of finding new contacts and perhaps of putting things right with C.M. or Tersteeg, say, or Mauve."

Context:
BVG 295, 6/22/1883: "I told Tersteeg that I was very anxious to be on good terms with Mauve again, but he did not answer a word."
JLB 356, 6/22/1883: "I told Tersteeg that I very much wished to be on good terms with Mauve once more, but he didn't give me so much as a word in reply."

Context:
BVG 290, 6/3/1883: "Look here, boy, if Mauve gave a helping hand now, for instance, perhaps, perhaps they might be turned into paintings. I think the studies and compositions are worked out enough to serve as a foundation for a painted picture."
JLB 349, 6/3/1883: "You see, old chap, if Mauve, say, was to come around now, perhaps, perhaps paintings might be made of them. The studies and composition are sufficiently worked up, I believe, to serve as the basis for a painting if need be." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 295, 6/22/1883: "The drawing which I showed Tersteeg showed up very poorly in his little room; one must see it surrounded by other drawings: then it has quite a different effect."
JLB 356, 6/22/1883: "The drawing in question that I took to Tersteeg wasn't seen at its best in his small office in my view; it needs to be seen in the company of other drawings, then it looks very different."

Context:
JLB 339, 5/2/1883 or 5/3/1883: "It's now almost a year since I had the unpleasantness with him (i.e. with HGT) ... If I count from last May, Theo, this year hasn't been exactly easy or free of care, eh."

Context:
BVG 282, 5/2/1883: "It is now almost a year since I had differences with him, that is to say, with Tersteeg. I will not cross his path again; he must have noticed that, I think; and he may be sure that I hardly ever think of what has happened."
JLB 339, 5/2/1883 or 5/3/1883: "It's now almost a year since I had the unpleasantness with him (i.e. with HGT). I shan't cross his path again, I believe he realizes that too, and he can rest assured that I hardly ever think of what occurred."

Context:
BVG 290, 6/3/1883: "And for my part, in order to lighten the burden for you, though apart from that I assure you I did not like it at all, I wrote to C. M., and I want to ask you: could you perhaps write a little word to Tersteeg, telling him that I am working on those large drawings?"
JLB 349, 6/3/1883: "And for my part, to lighten your burden, I wrote to C.M. (although I took no pleasure in that, I assure you) and wanted to ask you, could you perhaps write a word to Tersteeg telling him that I'm working on those large drawings" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 289, 6/4/1883-6/5/1883: "If only you were here, you might perhaps make some arrangement with him."
JLB 350, 6/5/1883: "If only you were here. Perhaps something could be arranged with him."

In addition to the overwhelming unlikeliness that Tersteeg would agree to such an exchange of retractions, what makes this deal delusional is Vincent's bizarre calculation of the benefits and sacrifices that it constitutes. Vincent is offering to take back an opinion that he says he has not expressed to anybody else -- and, even if he had, nobody would have listened to. Nobody, least of all Tersteeg, cares what Vincent says or thinks about Tersteeg -- except Vincent. The only person for whom Vincent could retract his opinion of Tersteeg is Theo. In addition, how would the deal work? Does Vincent expect Tersteeg to write a letter to Dorus officially retracting his opinion of Vincent? Why would Tersteeg do such a thing? So Vincent will think better of him? Indeed, Tersteeg has probably barely thought about Vincent since their last altercation -- whereas Vincent has been harboring a bitter grudge that only grows with each new slight or indignity, all of which Vincent blames, ultimately, on Tersteeg. In his delusional state, Vincent imagines exactly the reverse to be true: "I shan't cross [Tersteeg's] path again, I believe he realizes that too, and he can rest assured that I hardly ever think of what occurred" (ibid.). 

Context:
JLB 339, 5/2/1883 or 5/3/1883: "I freely admit that as a result my judgement of him wasn't correct either and, on condition that H.G.T. takes back what he wrote about me to Pa (that I had made it impossible for him to have anything further to do with me), I will take back my opinion that H.G.T. was to blame for disagreeable things that happened to me."

Context:
JLB 339, 5/2/1883 or 5/3/1883: "If I express myself clearly enough, you may find in these thoughts something that could lead to more peace or better mutual understanding, which would be far from a matter of indifference to me."

Context:
JLB 350, 6/5/1883: "It also occurred to me that, were he not prejudiced against having anything to do with me, perhaps Tersteeg could make use of these compositions in a smaller format, with sepia for example."

Context:
JLB 356, 6/22/1883: "Then I reached the point, in desperation, of going to Tersteeg. I thought, I have nothing to lose, perhaps it will be a way of stirring things back into life."

Context:
BVG 299, 7/11/1883: "Nor do I think it nice of H. G. T., now that I, for my part, have tried to thaw the ice between us, not to come to see me."
JLB 361, 7/11/1883: "Nor do I think it nice of H.G.T. that he didn't pay a call after I'd made an attempt to break the ice."

Context:
JLB 356, 6/22/1883: "The overall impression I bring back from my visit to Tersteeg is that I would have thought it kinder if, given that such an awfully long time has since passed, he had suddenly referred to it lightly, but there remained an element of gloominess and of 'Have you come to pester me again? Keep away from me.' He didn't say that, for he spoke in very measured terms, but in the light of what he might have done -- namely say something like, I think it's right that we should make up and I'll come round and have a look sometime, or something like that -- in my view the above was implied to some extent." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 356, 6/22/1883: "I would have thought it kinder if, given that such an awfully long time has since passed, he had suddenly referred to it lightly, but there remained an element of gloominess and of 'Have you come to pester me again? Keep away from me.' He didn't say that, for he spoke in very measured terms, but in the light of what he might have done -- namely say something like, I think it's right that we should make up and I'll come round and have a look sometime, or something like that." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 295, 6/22/1883: "My total impression of the visit to Tersteeg is that it would have been nicer if he had taken things somewhat lightly, as such a long time had passed; but there was a ponderousness in the air, and something of, 'There you are, bothering me again -- do leave me alone.'"
JLB 356, 6/22/1883: "The overall impression I bring back from my visit to Tersteeg is that I would have thought it kinder if, given that such an awfully long time has since passed, he had suddenly referred to it lightly, but there remained an element of gloominess and of 'Have you come to pester me again? Keep away from me.'"

Context:
JLB 356, 6/22/1883: "And so I went there with the large sketch which I wrote to you about lately. It has become a row of Diggers, men and women, with a foreground of clods of earth and a view of some roofs in a village in the background." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 356, 6/22/1883: "I also told him how it was on my mind that I still had Bargue's drawing examples, that I would have returned them long ago if what happened last year had not been an impediment to speaking about them, but that I had come now to clear the matter up. That -- since a few were damaged, although only slightly, through use, and I had also had a few other things at that time that were still outstanding -- I hoped he would be willing either now or later to accept a few of my drawings to settle up for everything, and I believed that he would appreciate my coming to him to settle the matter. Well, he thought that was very good and now fortunately the Bargues are back."

Context:
BVG 295, 6/22/1883: "I told Tersteeg that I understood perfectly well this sketch could not be anything for him, but that I came to show it to him because it was so long since he had seen any of my work and because I for one wanted to prove that I did not feel any ill will about what had happened last year."
JLB 356, 6/22/1883: "I said to Tersteeg that I understood very well that this sketch wasn't something he could use, but that I'd come to see him partly because he'd seen nothing of my work for so long, and because for my part I wanted to give him proof that I didn't wish for there to be continuing rancour about what had happened last year."

Context:
BVG 295, 6/22/1883: "The drawing which I showed Tersteeg showed up very poorly in his little room; one must see it surrounded by other drawings: then it has quite a different effect."
JLB 356, 6/22/1883: "The drawing in question that I took to Tersteeg wasn't seen at its best in his small office in my view; it needs to be seen in the company of other drawings, then it looks very different."

Context:
BVG 295, 6/22/1883: "Well, he said that he did not hold a grudge, either; as to the drawing, he had told me last year that I ought to make watercolours, and he did not want to repeat himself by talking about it again."
JLB 356, 6/22/1883: "Well, he said that he didn't feel any rancour either, that as to the drawing he'd told me last year that I should do watercolours, and that he didn't want to discuss it any further now because he didn't want to end up repeating himself."

Context:
JLB 356, 6/22/1883: "The overall impression I bring back from my visit to Tersteeg is that I would have thought it kinder if, given that such an awfully long time has since passed, he had suddenly referred to it lightly, but there remained an element of gloominess and of 'Have you come to pester me again? Keep away from me.' He didn't say that, for he spoke in very measured terms, but in the light of what he might have done -- namely say something like, I think it's right that we should make up and I'll come round and have a look sometime, or something like that -- in my view the above was implied to some extent." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 297, 7/2/1883: "Tersteeg would not be satisfied with them. He would always say, 'It is not saleable and saleability must come first now.'"
JLB 358, 7/2/1883: "Tersteeg would still not be content with it. Keep on saying, it isn't saleable and the saleable must be your no. 1. "

Context:
BVG 297, 7/2/1883: "Personally I think he means in plainer terms, ' You are a mediocrity and you are arrogant because you don't give in and you make mediocre little things: you are making yourself ridiculous with your so-called seeking, and you do not work.' That is the real meaning of what Tersteeg said to me the year before last, and last year; and he still means it.
JLB 358, 7/2/1883: "For my part I see in that in plainer terms ' you're a mediocrity and you're pretentious in not submitting yourself and not making small mediocre things; you make yourself ridiculous with your so-called seeking, and don't work.' This is implied in what Tersteeg said to me the year before last and last year, and I'm still faced with it."

Context:
BVG 295, 6/22/1883: "Well, yesterday I worked at it all day again to finish the figures better."
JLB 356, 6/22/1883: "Well, yesterday I worked on it again for the whole day to get the figures more finished."

Context:
JLB 358, 7/2/1883: "Sometimes one is burdened by it and feels wretched and, so to speak, overwhelmed."

Context:
BVG 297, 7/2/1883: "But for all that, life sometimes becomes gloomy, and the future, dark, because the work costs money, so the harder one works, the deeper one gets into debt, instead of the work helping one on, so that difficulties and expense may be surmounted by working harder."
JLB 358, 7/2/1883: "It is so, however, that life sometimes becomes sombre and the future dark when working costs money and one feels oneself going ever deeper into the ground the harder one works, instead of work helping one to stay above water and one being able to overcome the difficulties and costs by making a greater effort."

Context:
BVG305, 7/25/1883-7/26/1883: "After all, I don't feel discouraged at heart. On the contrary, I agree with what I recently read in Zola: 'Si à présent je vaux quelque chose c'est que je suis seul et que je hais les niais, les impuissants, les cyniques, les railleurs idiots et bêtes’ [If at present I am worth something, it is because I am alone, and I hate the fatuous-minded, the impotent, the cynics, the idiotic and stupid scoffers].”
JLB 367, 7/25/1883: “Despite everything, at heart I don’t have a feeling of dejection, and on the contrary I can agree with what I read recently in Zola, ‘If at present I’m worth something, it’s because I am alone and because I hate the ninnies, the incapable, the cynics, the idiotic and foolish mockers.’”

Context:
BVG 295, 6/22/1883: "But I will leave it to time, and if he persists in thinking everything I do is wrong, well, I will take it in my stride and go my own way as if he did not exist."
JLB 356, 6/22/1883: "But I'll leave that largely to time, and if he continues to find all I do wrong, well, I'll take that very coolly and quietly go my own way as if he didn't exist."

Context:
BVG 295, 6/22/1883: " I should not be in the least surprised if he considered it crazy work, or absolutely absurd, because he said he would rather not have anything to do with it."
JLB 356, 6/22/1883: "And as for Tersteeg himself, it wouldn't surprise me in the least if he considered it sheer madness or something absurd, precisely because he said he would rather stay out of it completely."

Context:
JLB 356, 6/22/1883: "Otherwise, the work is going well, I've been working with an extraordinary amount of pleasure lately, and with a firm feeling that I'm 'on a road', as R. says of himself in the letter I sent you."

Context:
BVG 295, 6/22/1883: "But I will leave it to time, and if he persists in thinking everything I do is wrong, well, I will take it in my stride and go my own way as if he did not exist."
JLB 356, 6/22/1883: "But I'll leave that largely to time, and if he continues to find all I do wrong, well, I'll take that very coolly and quietly go my own way as if he didn't exist."

Context:
BVG 297, 7/2/1883: "I am afraid Tersteeg will always be for me 'the everlasting no.' That is what not only I, but almost everyone who seeks his own way, has behind or beside him as an everlasting discourager."
JLB 358, 7/2/1883: "To me Tersteeg will I think remain 'the everlasting no.' Not only I but almost all who seek their own way have something like this behind or beside them as a perpetual discourager." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 367, 7/25/1883: "Circumstances have been a little too much for me recently, and my plan to win back old friends by working constantly and sensibly has been shattered."

Context:
JLB 363, 7/22/1883: "The weeks passed, many, many weeks and months of late, when each time the expenses were slightly more than I could keep up with, even with all the fretting and worrying and economizing."

Context:
BVG305, 7/25/1883-7/26/1883: "I am in rather a tough spot. You can see from what I told you about this morning's skirmish that people are very inconsiderate of me."
JLB 367, 7/25/1883: "I'm a little worried, you can see from what I've written about my skirmish this morning that people don't treat me with much consideration."

Context:
JLB 367, 7/25/1883: "Well, all the small shopkeepers &c. one deals with for daily necessities belong to the same type. They come themselves to ask you to take this or that from them or, if one goes to someone else, they ask for your custom, but if one must unfortunately put off payment for longer than a week it's cursing and scolding."

Context:
JLB 367, 7/25/1883: "I tell him I'll pay him as soon as I receive money but that I don't have it at the moment, and that adds fuel to the flames. I ask him to leave, and in the end I push him out of the door but, perhaps deliberately letting things get to this point, he grabs me by the neck and throws me against the wall and then flat on the floor."

Context:
JLB 367, 7/25/1883: "They then sent me demands and final notices but I ignored all that and said, when they came back again, that it was pointless because I simply lit my pipe with them. That I didn't have it, and my 4 chairs, table &c. wouldn't raise anything anyway. That they weren't worth as much new as they wanted to assess me for. They have indeed left me in peace since, for months now."

Context:
BVG305, 7/25/1883-7/26/1883: "Then they sent me assessments and summonses, but I didn't pay the slightest attention, and once when they came to ask about them, I said it was simply no use, I'd lit my pipe with them."
JLB 367, 7/25/1883: "They then sent me demands and final notices but I ignored all that and said, when they came back again, that it was pointless because I simply lit my pipe with them."

Context:
BVG301, 7/22/1883: "I do not approve, Theo, of spending more than one receives, but when it is a question of going on strike or working on, I vote for working on to the utmost. Millet and the other masters worked on till writs were served on them, or some have been in prison, or have had to move from one place to another, but I do not see that any one of them gave up his work."
JLB 363, 7/22/1883: "I don't think it right, Theo, to spend more than one receives -- but if it's a question of stopping or carrying on working, I'm for carrying on to the end. Millet and other predecessors carried on right up to the bailiff, and some went to prison or had to move hither and thither, yet I don't see in them that they stopped."

Context:
JLB 367, 7/25/1883: "So far there hasn't been a soul here in the street who pays tax, yet all have been assessed for various sums, including me, and I have twice had appraisers here; I drew their attention, however, to my 4 kitchen chairs and unpainted table and said I wasn't eligible to be assessed for so much. That if they found carpets, pianos, antiques &c. at a painter's, they might not be wrong to assess such a man as being able to pay, but that I couldn't even pay my paint bill, and that there were no luxury items but only children in my house, and that consequently there was nothing to be had from me."

Context:
JLB 367, 7/25/1883: "Theo, there is one thing we must settle -- I don't mean that it will happen immediately, but the days might become even gloomier, and in that case I should like to make an arrangement. My studies and all the work that is in the studio are absolutely your property."

Context:
JLB 367, 7/25/1883: "When I went to Scheveningen I had to leave one or two others waiting. I'm a little worried, brother, and have considerable sorrow and difficulty."

Context:
JLB 363, 7/22/1883: "Then, if there's no hope for the future financially, I would propose a move to the country, saving half the rent in a village deep in the country, and for the same amount of money that one pays here for bad food getting good, healthy food, which is needed for the woman and the little ones, and for me too in fact" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 368, 7/27/1883: "To my surprise another letter from you arrived yesterday with a banknote enclosed. I don't need to tell you that I was glad of it, and truly thank you for it."

Context:
JLB 369, 7/29/1883-7/30/1883: "Today I bought a field easel and painting canvas. The first is nice, because one doesn't get as dirty as when one works on one's knees outdoors."

Context:
JLB 352, 6/11/1883: "But I've had a disappointment with the Orphanage in that I have not been given permission to draw there -- Well, it's not too bad for there are other orphanages, it's just that in this one I know a man who has modelled for me regularly, and that would have made it easier for me to do sketches." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 368, 7/27/1883: "In many cases a carpenter's boy becomes a carpenter's boss, small-minded, dry, mean, vain, and whatever one thinks of Jesus his approach to things was different from my friend the carpenter's from the yard behind here, who has worked his way up to become a slum landlord and is a lot more complacent and much more preoccupied with himself than Jesus."

Context:
JLB 361, 7/11/1883: "Was at Van der Weele's last Sunday; he was working on a painting of cows in the milking yard, for which he has several substantial studies. He's moving to the country for some time."

The same defensive obfuscation may be at work in Vincent's murky account of his contacts with Blommers that summer. (See Ch. 19, n. 226.) On July 22, Vincent reports, "I've seen and spoken to Blommers twice already in Scheveningen," but he doesn't say when, how long ago, or under what circumstances, except that it was not, apparently, at Blommer's house or studio (which was attached to his house) (JLB 363, 7/22/1883). He reassures Theo that Blommers "asked me to call on him sometime," but he never reports doing so (ibid.). In a plaintive letter only a week later, one can hear renewed feelings of rejection and alienation that probably betray the failure of Vincent's summer outreach to his fellow artists: "one gets particularly upset if more superficial people are amused by thinking they're so much wiser and are so much better at getting where they want. Yes, then it's sometimes difficult, and if conditions are such that the difficulties rise to a spring flood, one can be led to regret that one is as one is and wish one had been less conscientious" (JLB 368, 7/27/1883). Van der Mast and Dumas (and others) suggest a more substantive relationship between Vincent and De Bock, citing the latter's participation in a posthumous exhibition of Vincent's work in 1892 (Van der Mast and Dumas, p. 162). But there is no evidence to support any warmth or influence either way at this time, and much evidence to the contrary. De Bock's later enthusiasm for Vincent's work was more likely opportunism (consistent with Vincent's account of him) than nostalgia or "courage" (Van der Mast and Dumas's term). 

Context:
BVG 284, 5/9/1883-5/10/1883: " At times her temper is such that it is almost unbearable even for me -- violent, mischievous, bad. I can tell you, I am sometimes in despair. She comes round again, and she has often told me afterward: I myself do not know what I am doing then."
JLB 342, 5/10/1883: " Her mood can be such that it's almost unbearable, even for me, quick-tempered, wilfully wrong, in short, sometimes I despair. It passes -- and more than once she has said to me later -- I DON'T MYSELF KNOW WHAT I'M DOING THEN." (Emphasis in original.)

His relationship with Sien was increasingly marked by this painful ambivalence. His first defense against it was to attribute it to the changeable nature of all women. Citing Michelet, he explained to Theo: "Michelet says rightly: a woman is an illness. They are changeable, Theo -- they are changeable like the weather. Now those with an eye for it see something beautiful and good in all weathers, find snow beautiful and burning sun beautiful and storm beautiful and calm beautiful, cold good and heat, are fond of all seasons and don't want to miss a single day of the year, and are fundamentally content and resigned to things being as they are -- yet even if one looks at the weather and the changing year like this -- and the changing female nature in the same way -- believing that in the essence of that nature, in its mysteriousness, there is a Reason -- accepting where one doesn't understand -- even, I say, if one should view it in that way, our own nature and vision isn't always and at every moment in harmony and accord with that of the woman with whom we're united, and individually one feels either concern or dissatisfaction or vacillation, despite the belief and the good spirits or serenity one may have." (JLB 342, 5/10/1883; emphasis in original.)

Another coping mechanism was to blame himself: "I must change so much in myself too, but I must ensure that in me she has an example of working and of patience, and that's damned difficult, brother, to be so that one can indirectly show someone how to do something, and I too fall short sometimes, I must raise myself to something better in order to awaken her interest." (ibid.) Another was sheer denial: "I don't find anything unusual in what has befallen me ... there are deuced good things in her character that are still well worth the trouble when things are going well" (JLB 344, 5/21/1883). As late as July, Vincent was protesting that things had improved: "I once wrote to you that things might turn out as they did years ago when I was also living in The Hague -- that at first it would be a miserable time but become more agreeable later on. In many respects it has already become more pleasant and agreeable of late." (JLB 362, 7/13/1883.) This brief flare of optimism may be related to Vincent's procurement at this time of the pied-a-terre in Scheveningen where he spent most days away from the Schenkweg -- and away from Sien. Like so much of Vincent's optimism that summer, it may also be merely face-saving happy-talk for Theo's benefit. It is hard to imagine that, at this late date, even Vincent could bring himself to believe that the relationship with Sien had someplace to go.

Vincent became especially defensive when Theo wrote that he was "a little concerned about what [Vincent] wrote regarding the woman" (JLB 344, 5/21/1883). Vincent responded with yet another delusional wave of optimism for the future: "it has remedied itself once again, and there will come a time, I hope, when everything goes a great deal better. When you come, I'll be able to tell you better than I can in writing what I'm sometimes worried about. I repeat, my woman's true and thorough recovery in both mind and body will take years. So you needn't be immediately concerned that there's something unusual if I write to you that I'm a little worried about it." (ibid.) Vincent was especially eager that Theo not mention any of his complaints about Sien to others: "But, in particular, don't talk about it to others" (ibid.). This could refer either to their parents, or to Tersteeg, or both. The fear of losing face undoubtedly drove Vincent's efforts to salvage the relationship with Sien long after an objective observer would have declared it a lost cause. 

Context:
JLB 342, 5/10/1883: "My woman has certain faults and defects in the way she acts - that's bound to be the case. THAT DOES NOT MAKE HER BAD in my view. Still, those defects must be eliminated -- habits of laxity, indifference, lack of activity and deftness, oh, a mass of things." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 342, 5/10/1883: "Still, those defects must be eliminated -- habits of laxity, indifference, lack of activity and deftness, oh, a mass of things."

Context:
JLB 342, 5/10/1883: "Her mood can be such that it's almost unbearable, even for me, quick-tempered, wilfully wrong, in short, sometimes I despair. It passes -- and more than once she has said to me later -- I DON'T MYSELF KNOW WHAT I'M DOING THEN." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 376, 8/19/1883: "If I left the woman, she might go mad, but because I for my part have more than once found a way of calming her down during her moods of intolerable bad temper, ... there has come into her that je ne sais quoi of calm when I'm with her" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 338, 4/30/1883: "Do you know what I'd prefer to the woman's relations with her mother? -- in my case, where they have decidedly unfortunate consequences -- that the mother should move in with me completely. I suggested that once this winter when the mother was very hard pressed, and I said if you're so attached to each other, come and live together."

Context:
JLB 337, 4/21/1883: "It is, however, a sad thought that something like the relationship between mother and daughter can have a dark side. So that a man who loves light and seeks it can be fatally thwarted by it."

Context:
JLB 348, 6/3/1883: "Anyway, I leave it to you to decide to what extent these suspicions about me were well founded. Well then, but it was secretly discussed behind my back."

Context:
BVG 281, 4/30/1883: "A wife's mother is, in some cases, the representative of a meddlesome, slandering, aggravating family, and as such decidedly injurious and hostile, though she may not be so bad herself."
JLB 338, 4/30/1883: "In some cases the mother of a woman is the representative of a meddlesome and malicious and insufferable family -- and as such definitely harmful and hostile, even if she isn't that bad in herself."

Context:
BVG 280, 4/21/1883-4/22/1883: "Not everybody's intention is to act silently, and some older and wiser members of the family often get so clamorous that one regrets having spoken to them. The more so, because they cannot stop intriguing and, oh well -- they are probably wolves."
JLB 337, 4/21/1883: "Act and be silent is not everyone's aim, and some older and wiser family members lapse so easily into noise-making that one may regret having spoken to them. Especially because they can't help intriguing, and anyway -- they're probably wolves." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 288, 6/3/1883: "… her family tried to draw her away from me; I have had nothing to do with any of them except the mother, because I did not trust them. The more I tried to analyze the history of that family, the more I was strengthened in that opinion. Now, just because I kept out of their way, they plot against me, and so a treacherous attack occurred. I told the woman my opinion of their intentions, and said she had to choose between her family and me, but that I did not want to have anything to do with any of them, primarily because I thought that relations with her family would lead her back to her former bad life."
JLB 348, 6/3/1883: " Her family were trying to get her away from me. I've never involved myself with anyone except the mother, because I considered them untrustworthy. The more I try to analyze the history of that family, the more I'm strengthened in that view. Well, they were intriguing precisely because I ignored them, and this led to a treacherous attack. I've told the woman how I view their intentions and also that she must choose between her family and me, but that I didn't wish to have any dealings with any of them, in the first place because I believed relations with her family would lead her back to her previous wrong life." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 348, 6/3/1883: "The reason why the family advised her to leave me was that I earned too little and I wasn't good for her, and only did it for the posing but would leave her in the lurch."

Context:
JLB 348, 6/3/1883: "The reason why the family advised her to leave me was that I earned too little and I wasn't good for her, and only did it for the posing but would leave her in the lurch."

Context:
JLB 348, 6/3/1883: "The reason why the family advised her to leave me was that I earned too little and I wasn't good for her, and only did it for the posing but would leave her in the lurch" (emphasis added).

Context:
BVG 280, 4/21/1883-4/22/1883: "A mother's influence and conversation with friends, more than anything else, sometimes bring a kind of backsliding in women which prevents a reform in thought and action -- sometimes so urgently necessary."
JLB 337, 4/21/1883: "Through the influence of the mother and mixing with girlfriends -- perhaps more than through anything else -- something called a retrograde gets into women sometimes and prevents reforms in their thinking and actions, which are sometimes needed, and urgently needed" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 348, 6/3/1883: "I would think it brave and generous of her if she broke off all relations with her family, I myself advise her not to go there."

Context:
JLB 379, 8/23/1883-8/29/1883: "She might have trusted me completely a long time ago, but she hasn't."

Context:
BVG 317, 8/22/1883-8/23/1883: "She preferred to listen to and believe people who told her that I should desert her, which -- if it should come to that in the end -- would be her family's fault, because she takes their view of things, at least more their fault than hers, for the family never stopped upsetting her with this talk."
JLB 379, 8/23/1883-8/29/1883: "What she listened to and believed more was that I would leave her in the lurch after all, which, if it were finally to happen in the end, precisely because she sees it like that, would be more the family's fault than hers, because the family continually upset her with that."

Context:
BVG 284, 5/9/1883-5/10/1883: " He often sits with me in the studio on the floor in a corner, on a few sacks; he crows at the drawings and is always quiet in the studio, because he looks at the things on the wall."
JLB 342, 5/10/1883: " He often sits with me in the studio on the floor in a corner on a couple of sacks or something, he crows at the drawings and is always quiet in the studio because he looks at the things on the wall."

Context:
BVG306, 7/27/1883: "… when I am with them and the little boy comes creeping toward me on all fours, crowing for joy, I haven't the slightest doubt that everything is right."
JLB 368, 7/27/1883: " When I'm with them and the little fellow comes crawling towards me on hands and knees, crowing with delight, I haven't the slightest doubt that it's all right."

Context:
JLB 364, 7/22/1883: "Whether it's fever or nerves or something else I don't know -- but I don't feel well. ... I may have caught a chronic fever or something."

Context:
JLB 363, 7/22/1883: "I, too, have an enormous feeling of faintness at times in the dunes or elsewhere, because there's nothing coming in."

Context:
JLB 369, 7/29/1883-7/30/1883: "For the rest, I'm not yet exactly back to normal. It may be that my stomach is somewhat weakened, which is what I conclude from the symptom of dizzy spells in the head, etc., which are sufficiently troublesome to make doing something about them an urgent matter."

Context:
JLB 369, 7/29/1883-7/30/1883: "I got some nourishing things with what you sent, but I have little appetite because my stomach isn't working properly, and I fear it will be some time before that clears up."

Context:
BVG305, 7/25/1883-7/26/1883: "What I told you about my feeling rather weak is true. It has now settled into a pain between the shoulders and in the lumbar vertebrae."
JLB 367, 7/25/1883: "What I said to you about not feeling strong is true, it has now come down to pain between the shoulders and in the lumbar vertebra."

Context:
BVG 305, 7/25/1883-7/26/1883: "I must go on with my work, but a feeling of prostration overwhelms me again and again -- a general faintness, a reaction after exertion, which keeps returning, and which I must try to overcome, otherwise it will get worse."
JLB 364, 7/22/1883: "I must keep on working, and there's a feeling of weariness that overwhelms me time and again, a general weakness that's a reaction to exertion and keeps recurring, but which I must do something about or it will get worse."

Context:
BVG302, 7/22/1883: "Except for what I told you about, there is nothing the matter with me, and things are going well -- but perhaps I am a little feverish or something -- I feel miserable."
JLB 364, 7/22/1883: "Apart from what I've already written, there's nothing particular wrong with me and things carry on as normal -- but I may have caught a chronic fever or something, and have suddenly fallen ill."

Context:
JLB 365, 7/23/1883: "If I don't have a little extra on occasion, I have to pay out so much each time when I receive the normal amount that not much is left for the 10 days that lie ahead, on the last of which one walks along the road with a very weak and faint feeling in the stomach."

Context:
BVG 301, 7/22/1883: "And it happens to me, too: when I am sitting in the dunes or somewhere else, I have a faint feeling in my stomach because there isn't enough to eat."
JLB 363, 7/22/1883: " I, too, have an enormous feeling of faintness at times in the dunes or elsewhere, because there's nothing coming in."

Context:
JLB 370, 8/3/1883: "I don't feel entirely well yet, but fortunately the work is so animating that as long as I am busy, I don't feel the weakness so much; but it overtakes me occasionally during the intervals when I am not in front of my easel. Sometimes it's a kind of dizziness, and at times a headache too. Well, it's nothing but weakness. I have repeatedly put off taking more nourishing food because there were other things more pressing, but it has lasted a little too long."

Context:
JLB 368, 7/27/1883: "In a few days, when I shall have had some more nourishing food than recently, I think I shall get rid of my worst depression; but it is more deeply rooted than that."

Context:
BVG306, 7/27/1883: "I think one may consider these thoughts partly the consequence of overwrought nerves, and if one has them, one must not think it one's duty to believe that things are really as gloomy as one supposes; if one did, it would make one mad."
JLB 368, 7/27/1883: "I believe one has the right to regard those thoughts as the consequence, in part, of stress and if one has them one shouldn't make it a duty to believe things are indeed as black as one then thinks but, because if one were to worry about it one would go mad."

Context:
JLB 368, 7/27/1883: "… it's reasonable to strengthen oneself physically in that case, and really set to work when that has been done, and if that doesn't help continue nonetheless with these two remedies and regard it as something fatal if that melancholy persists. In time one will gain in strength of mind and carry on with life." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 368, 7/27/1883: "I believe one has the right to regard those thoughts as the consequence, in part, of stress and if one has them one shouldn't make it a duty to believe things are indeed as black as one then thinks but, because if one were to worry about it one would go mad, on the contrary, it's reasonable to strengthen oneself physically in that case, and really set to work when that has been done, and if that doesn't help continue nonetheless with these two remedies and regard it as something fatal if that melancholy persists. In time one will gain in strength of mind and carry on with life." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 361, 7/11/1883: "Imagine, I go to the garret that he has at Siebenhaar's."

Context:
BVG 299, 7/11/1883: "It has been furnished in the main with various (empty) matchboxes, and for the rest with a razor or the like and a box with a bed in it."
JLB 361, 7/11/1883: "It was furnished mainly with various matchboxes (empty), and then with a razor or something, and a cupboard with a bed in it."

Context:
BVG 299, 7/11/1883: "From a distance it looks like patches of faded colour on a bleached, mouldering and mildewy wallpaper and in that respect it has some qualities, which to me are none the less positively objectionable."
JLB 361, 7/11/1883: "From a distance they're areas of faded colour as on bleached and rotting and mouldering wallpaper, and in that sense there are qualities in it that are absolutely unpalatable to me."

Context:
BVG 299, 7/11/1883: "Now, you try to imagine something like that, but on ne peut plus absurd and heavy-handed to boot, and you have the work of friend Breitner."
JLB 361, 7/11/1883: "You see, try to picture such a thing, but it couldn't be more absurd, and heavy-handed as well, and you have the work of Friend Breitner."

Context:
BVG 299, 7/11/1883: "That's why I believe B. will be all right again, but I do find this stuff ridiculous."
JLB 361, 7/11/1883: "This is why I think that B. will be all right in the end, but I find this absurd."

Context:
BVG 299, 7/11/1883: "But I look on [Breitner's work] as the result of a spell of ill-health. Van der Weele also has two rather curious little watercolours of his, stylishly done, which have a touch, a certain je ne sais quoi, of what the English call 'weird.' "
JLB 361, 7/11/1883: "But I regard [Breitner's work] as a period of illness. Van der Weele has two rather curious drawings by him, elegantly done in watercolour, which have a certain je ne sais quoi of what the English call 'weird'" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 299, 7/11/1883: "They are like something seen in a fever, impossible and meaningless as in the most preposterous dream."
JLB 361, 7/11/1883: "It's the sort of thing one sees when one has a fever -- or impossible and meaningless as in a dream that makes no sense at all."

Context:
BVG 299, 7/11/1883: "They are like something seen in a fever, impossible and meaningless as in the most preposterous dream."
JLB 361, 7/11/1883: "It's the sort of thing one sees when one has a fever -- or impossible and meaningless as in a dream that makes no sense at all."

Context:
BVG 299, 7/11/1883: "Imperceptibly he has strayed far from a composed and rational view of things, and so long as this nervous exhaustion persists he will be unable to produce a single composed, sensible line or brushstroke."
JLB 361, 7/11/1883: "Imperceptibly he has strayed terribly far from a calm, rational contemplation of things, and now he can't put down a single calm, reasonable line or brushstroke as long as this stress continues."

Context:
JLB 361, 7/11/1883: "You remember the painting The madness of Hugo van der Goes by Wauters? In some things B. faintly reminds me of a state of mind like Van der Goes's. I'd not like to be the first to say this, but I believe his work has already been discussed in these terms for some considerable time."

Context:
BVG302, 7/22/1883: "I have tried to work a little today, but suddenly I was overcome by a depression which I cannot exactly account for."
JLB 364, 7/22/1883: "I did do some work today, but I was overcome all at once by a malaise in my very marrow, and I don't exactly know what to attribute it to."

Context:
BVG306, 7/27/1883: "Yes, then it is sometimes difficult, and when circumstances occur which make the difficulties rise like a tidal wave, one is almost sorry to be the way one is, and would wish to have been less conscientious."
JLB 368, 7/27/1883: "Yes, then it's sometimes difficult, and if conditions are such that the difficulties rise to a spring flood, one can be led to regret that one is as one is and wish one had been less conscientious."

Context:
BVG 306, 7/27/1883: "When I am at work, I have an unlimited faith in art and the conviction that I shall succeed; but in days of physical prostration or when there are financial obstacles, I feel that faith diminishing, and a doubt overwhelms me, which I try to conquer by setting to work again at once."
JLB 368, 7/27/1883: "While I'm working I feel an unlimited confidence in art and that I'll succeed, but on days of physical exhaustion or when there are financial obstacles I feel that faith less and am overcome by doubt, which I try to get over by immediately setting to work."

Context:
BVG 306, 7/27/1883: "I think one may consider these thoughts partly the consequence of overwrought nerves, and if one has them, one must not think it one's duty to believe that things are really as gloomy as one supposes; if one did, it would make one mad."
JLB 368, 7/27/1883: "I believe one has the right to regard those thoughts as the consequence, in part, of stress and if one has them one shouldn't make it a duty to believe things are indeed as black as one then thinks but, because if one were to worry about it one would go mad …"

Context:
JLB 355, 6/16/1883: "I won't sleep much tonight again because of the drawing. But it's very pleasant with a pipe at night when everything's quiet, and the dawn and the sunrise is glorious."

Context:
JLB 355, 6/16/1883: "But it's very pleasant with a pipe at night when everything's quiet, and the dawn and the sunrise is glorious."

Context:
BVG 294, 6/15/1883-6/17/1883: "But just when one feels so much attracted by the work, one must stick to it till one drops with exhaustion, so to speak."
JLB 355, 6/16/1883: "But precisely when one is so strongly drawn by the work, one must continue with it until one is fit to drop, so to speak."

Context:
BVG 295, 6/22/1883: "I have a great serenity and good spirits in regard to the work, and I have so much to do that it quite absorbs me."
JLB 356, 6/22/1883: "I have a great deal of serenity and cheerfulness and so much to do that it completely absorbs me."

In only a few paragraphs, Vincent manages to pack most of the arguments he has made over the last two years in defense of his ignored art: (1) Public opinion is tardy and fickle and often flat-out wrong (message: Tersteeg is wrong about me); (2) Great artists go unrecognized (as I am); (3) Great artists are recognized after their time (as I still might be); (4) Great artists face depression and obstacles (as I do); (5) Great artists were often simple and without friends (as I am); and (6) The illustrators that I admire are unrecognized great artists (like me). 

Context:
BVG305, 7/25/1883-7/26/1883: "I think, Theo, that if I can work on regularly and calmly, I, too, shall be able to make something of the kind in the future."
JLB 367, 7/25/1883: "I believe, Theo, that I too could do something like that through carrying on working regularly and calmly in the future."

Context:
BVG303, 7/23/1883: " Taking a rest is out of the question, but I think it would be a good thing to find distraction in a change of subjects and style."
JLB 365, 7/23/1883: " There's no question of resting, but I believe that finding a diversion by changing the manner of work and the subjects would be a good thing."

Context:
BVG307, 7/29/1883-7/30/1883: " I shouldn't be surprised if you also remember that spot once you had walked there."
JLB 369, 7/29/1883-7/30/1883: " It wouldn't surprise me if you were also to remember that landscape if you walked there."

Context:
JLB 369, 7/29/1883-7/30/1883: "I believe that if we were there together, that spot would put you and me into a mood in which we wouldn't hesitate about the work but firmly feel what our intentions should be."

Context:
BVG 259, 1/11/1883: "… one passes from melancholy to animation and enthusiasm; and this will always remain so -- only the oscillations become stronger."
JLB 300, 1/10/1883: "So one goes from melancholy to cheerfulness and enthusiasm, and this will always remain and the swings will only get stronger."

Context:
BVG301, 7/22/1883: "So now my first batch of photographs for you to show to some artists coincides with your 'I can give you little hope for the future.' Has anything happened?"
JLB 363, 7/22/1883: "So now my first consignment of photos to be shown to someone or other if needed coincides with your 'as for the future, I can give you little hope'. Is there something in particular???"

Context:
BVG301, 7/22/1883: "Thanks for your letter, thanks for the enclosure, though I cannot repress a feeling of sadness at your saying, 'I can give you little hope for the future.' ... I do not know what you mean by that expression, how can I know it? Your letter is too short, but it hit me unexpectedly right in the heart."
JLB 363, 7/22/1883: "I thank you for your letter, and for the enclosure, although I can't suppress a feeling of sadness over what you say, 'as for the future, I can give you little hope'. ... I don't know how you intended those words, nor can I know. Your letter is too brief, but it gave me an unexpected blow right in the chest."

Context:
BVG301, 7/22/1883: "But I feel my ardour vanishing, one needs to have a fixed point somewhere. When you say, "Set your hopes on the future," it sounds to me as if you yourself had no confidence in me. Is this true?"
JLB 363, 7/22/1883: "But I feel my enjoyment fading, one needs a fixed point somewhere. You see, the fact that you say to me, just have hope for the future, is as if you yourself no longer have any hope for me. Is that so?"

Context:
JLB 365, 7/23/1883: "Still, after all, whatever may come, I hope not to restrain myself weakly, and have hope that a certain fever and fury of work will carry me through it if it comes to the worst, as a boat can be hurled over a reef or a sandbank by the swell and can take advantage of the storm not to founder. Yet such manoeuvres don't always work, and it would be desirable to sail round the spot by tacking. After all, if it fails, what is lost in me?" (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG302, 7/22/1883: "I had written you early this morning, but after I had mailed my letter, it suddenly seemed as if all my troubles crowded together to overwhelm me, and it became too much for me because I could no longer look clearly into the future. I can't put it any other way, and I can't understand why I shouldn't succeed in my work. I have put all my heart into it, and, for a moment at least, that seemed to me a mistake. But, boy, you know it yourself -- what things in practical life must one devote one's strength and thought and energy to? One must take a chance and say, I will do a certain thing and carry it through. Well, then it may turn out wrong, and one may hit an impenetrable barrier when people do not care for it; but one needn't care after all, need one? I don't think one has to worry over it; but sometimes it becomes too hard, and one feels miserable against one's will."
JLB 364, 7/22/1883: "I wrote to you early this morning, but when I had posted my letter it was just as if suddenly all the trouble I had had with one thing and another gathered itself together and it was too much for me, because I could no longer comprehend the future. Otherwise I cannot say -- cannot understand -- why the work shouldn't be making progress. I've set my whole heart on it, and that seemed to me a mistake, at least for the moment. Still, old chap, you know yourself, on what (in practice, in real life), to what should one give one's strength and one's thoughts and mental powers? One must have a stab at it and say, I'll do something and carry it through. Now and then it may turn out wrong and one may come up against a wall if people don't want to have it, but still one needn't take it to heart, need one? I don't believe that one should make oneself ill over it, but sometimes it becomes too much for someone and one falls ill, even though one would rather not."

Context:
BVG302, 7/22/1883: "And now I thought, I am sorry that I didn't fall ill and die in the Borinage that time, instead of taking up painting, for I am only a burden to you."
JLB 364, 7/22/1883: "Now I thought that I was sorry that I didn't get ill and give up the ghost somewhere in the Borinage years ago instead of painting. For I'm just a burden to you."

Context:
JLB 371, 8/7/1883: "For no particular reason I can't help adding something here that's just a recurring thought of mine. Not only did I start drawing relatively late, but on top of that I can't count on living for a great many years, relatively speaking."

Context:
JLB 369, 7/29/1883-7/30/1883: "The flat areas there behind Loosduinen, it's just like Michel, and the lonely beach too."

Context:
BVG307, 7/29/1883-7/30/1883: "I think if we were together on that spot, it would put you and me into a mood such that we would not hesitate about the work, but feel decisive about what we have to do. Was it a chance harmony of my rather gloomy mood with those surroundings, or shall I find the same impressions there again in the future?"
JLB 369, 7/29/1883-7/30/1883: "I believe that if we were there together, that spot would put you and me into a mood in which we wouldn't hesitate about the work but firmly feel what our intentions should be. Was it due to a chance correspondence between a rather sombre mood and those surroundings, or will I have the same impressions there again in the future?"

Context:
JLB 371, 8/7/1883: "Lately I've thought sometimes of a story that I read in an English magazine, a tale of a painter in which a person featured who had also been weakened during a difficult time, and went to a remote area in the peat fields and found himself in the melancholy nature there, so to speak, and was able to paint nature as he felt and saw it. It was very accurately described in the story, evidently by someone who knew about art, and it struck me when I read it, and I've now been thinking of it from time to time these past few days."

Context:
JLB 371, 8/7/1883: "Not only did I start drawing relatively late, but on top of that I can't count on living for a great many years, relatively speaking."

Context:
BVG 309, 8/4/1883-8/8/1883: "The world concerns me only in so far as I owe it certain debt and duty, so to speak, because I have walked this earth for 30 years, and out of gratitude would like to leave some memento in the form of drawings and paintings -- not made to please this school or that, but to express a genuine human feeling. … That is how I regard myself, as having to accomplish in a few years something full of heart and love, and to do it with a will. Should I live longer, tant mieux, [so much the better] but I put that out of my mind. Something must be accomplished in those few years, this thought guides all my plans."
JLB 371, 8/7/1883: "I'm concerned with the world only in that I have a certain obligation and duty, as it were -- because I've walked the earth for 30 years -- to leave a certain souvenir in the form of drawings or paintings in gratitude. … I see myself in a similar way -- as having to do something with heart and love in it within a few years, and do it with willpower. If I live longer, so much the better, but I'm not thinking about that. In those few years SOMETHING MUST BE DONE -- that thought is my guiding principle in making plans for the work." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG310, 8/11/1883: " The only thing I want is to make some good work 'quand bien même,' and there is a chance of doing this if we keep our serenity, whether the future is dark or not."
JLB 372, 8/12/1883 or 8/13/1883: " By which I mean only that I want to do something good, come what may, and there's a chance of bringing that about if we keep our serenity, dark future or no dark future."

This sequence of thoughts clearly suggests Theo is the author of the phrase "manly element." However, if Theo did not share this positive critique until after his visit, then any opinion of Vincent's art that Theo expressed during his visit must have been more negative; because, in the same letter as the "manly" comment, Vincent writes with some relief, "I'm still very pleased with your revised opinion of the work," and says that Theo's " revised opinion agrees with Van Rappard's [and with] Van der Weele [who] also thinks that my work has something" (JLB 379, 8/23/1883-8/29/1883; emphasis in original). If "manly" is the "revised opinion" referred to here, then the thrust of Theo's opinion at the time of his visit must have been that there was "nothing" in Vincent's work. This would only make the point in the text stronger. 

Context:
BVG317, 8/22/1883-8/23/1883: "… the better work I do later will cast a reflection on the work I am doing now, and will show more clearly that even now there is already some truth and simplicity in it, and as you yourself express it, a manly conception and perception."
JLB 379, 8/23/1883-8/29/1883: "Later, through better work, there will come a reflection about what I'm doing now which will make it clearer that even now it already has an element of simplicity and truth and, because you say it yourself, of a manly approach and perception." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG310, 8/11/1883: "I am quite sure that at all events our being together will calm me down. I hope we shall take some nice long walks together, too."
JLB 372, 8/12/1883 or 8/13/1883: "I firmly believe that our being together will calm me down at any rate. I hope we'll also go for a long walk together."

Not until months later, however, does Vincent allow himself to use a word like "fight" to characterize their meeting (JLB 413, 12/15/1883). His statement at that time includes, for the first time, a characterization of Theo's attitude during their encounter, which clearly indicates that he, too, made his arguments forcefully, even heatedly (JLB 469, 11/14/1884). Like the other reconstructions in the text, this one is based on Vincent's later recollections of the conversation, some of which come immediately afterward (i.e., the same night), some of which come a full year later. In some cases, Vincent specifically signals that a subject was discussed that night; in others, we have made inferences based on the proximity of report and event. Because Vincent received a letter or letters from Theo in the week after the meeting, some of the topics discussed in Vincent's immediately subsequent letters may have been raised in Theo's letters, not in their conversation. As before, the order of subjects is conjectural, except that Vincent says explicitly that the last topic of discussion was their father ("we talked about Pa, you will recall, during your visit" [JLB 388, 9/21/1883]). 

Context:
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "I don't dare take it on credit, which would again cause me a considerable bill in time. You know yourself how we weren't exactly in the mood to be able to say more during your visit." Vincent himself raised another old injury at the brothers' reunion in The Hague. Launching a fierce attack on Theo's misguided dedication to Goupil, Vincent tried yet again to lure his brother away from that world, away from their family, away from their father, and convince him that his only true companion in the world was walking beside him at that moment. 

Context:
JLB 370, 8/3/1883: "You remember what you wrote about the possibility of a disappointment with the percentage from the business. Well, I hope that that catastrophe doesn't happen, but we must regard it as a pleasant surprise if it does turn out all right, and not lose a fraction of the time we have left."

Context:
JLB 366, 7/24/1883: "The division of your income, directly and indirectly, among no fewer than 6 people is indeed remarkable."

Context:
BVG314, 8/19/1883: "Perhaps it will come sooner if one goes on working quietly than if one goes begging for it, or visiting people …"
JLB 376, 8/19/1883: "And perhaps sooner when one works on quietly than when one goes and asks him or visits him" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 312, 8/17/1883: "It is practically always so painful for me to speak to other people. I am not afraid of it, but I know I make an unfavorable impression."
JLB 375, 8/18/1883: "It's so painful for me to talk to most people, I'm not afraid to, but I know I make a disagreeable impression. "

Context:
BVG 312, 8/17/1883: "My opinion is that the best thing would be to work on till art lovers feel drawn towards it of their own accord, instead of having to praise or explain it."
JLB 375, 8/18/1883: "And as for how I think about selling, I wanted to say this again. I believe that the best would be if we carry on working until, instead of having to praise or explain it to art lovers or say something to go with it, they feel drawn to it of their own accord."

Vincent's demand that Theo take back anything he said to Cor "about me possibly leaving the woman" indicates that this was either a condition imposed by Uncle Cor on his assistance or a promise made by Theo in courting their uncle's support, which may or may not have been elicited by Cor (JLB 376, 8/19/1883). When Theo's letter arrives around August 21, there is more news of the arrangement with Cor. "Your letter arrived today and gave me leeway in many respects. Accept my thanks for the step taken with C.M." (JLB 378, 8/21/1883.) This apparently refers to a firming up of the deal, probably through a conversation between Theo and Cor in Nuenen, where Theo was at the time. Vincent reports in the same letter "having paid my debts with the money from C. M." (ibid.). If the letter did not include payment, the inevitable inference is that Theo gave Vincent money from Uncle Cor when he visited The Hague on August 17. But Vincent adds a caution to his brother which further suggests that the deal was originally somehow conditioned on Vincent's leaving Sien: "I'll thank C.M., send him some studies, otherwise, especially about the woman, nothing " (ibid., emphasis in original). Vincent sent his uncle "a number of studies" a few days later (JLB 379, 8/23/1883-8/29/1883). 

This kind of indirect assault would have been typical of Theo. The most interesting (and, of course, unanswerable) question is whether and to what extent Theo gave Vincent the money from their uncle conditioned on Vincent leaving Sien. If he did so, whether explicitly or implicitly, Vincent's acceptance of the money constituted a corresponding agreement to break off the relationship. This scenario makes an interesting reprise of Vincent's experience with Kee Vos and her family's rejection of Vincent's suit because he did not have enough money. In his later fury over the incident, Vincent accuses them of "slave trading." Perhaps because of these resonances, Vincent resists being held explicitly accountable to Theo's cold bargain. In a letter soon after his brother's visit, he appears to back away from the "deal" that was effectively sealed by his taking the money: "If perhaps you said something to C.M. about me possibly leaving the woman, then please take it back immediately -- I can't do something that now seems to me cruel or merciless" (JLB 376, 8/19/1883). 

Context:
JLB 418, 12/28/1883: "Cruel, I repeat, because what is crueller than to deprive such an unfortunate, withered woman and her little child of support?"

This strikes us as an easy out for Vincent -- i.e., "I did it on account of love" -- an invocation of Michelet that he hopes will assuage his perpetually lovelorn brother and relieve the pressure to abandon Sien. If there is any reality to the connection, it is one that Vincent would not have recognized or acknowledged: that his family's rejection of Sien reprised their rejection of his suit of Kee Vos. By claiming to be a victim of love (rather than of his family's failure to love him), Vincent could cast himself as shunning ("I must avoid everything and everybody") rather than shunned, thus finding some delusional consolation at a time when there was little to be found elsewhere. 

Context:
BVG313, 8/18/1883: "A simple word said about it during our walk, made me feel that absolutely nothing is changed in me in that respect, that it is and remains a wound which I carry with me, while it lies deep and cannot be healed. After years it will be the same as it was the first day."
JLB 374, 8/17/1883: "The few words about it that we exchanged on the road made me feel that nothing has changed in me in this regard, that it is and will remain a wound which I live above but which is there deep down and cannot heal -- years from now it will be what it was the first day."

Context:
BVG350a, 12/15/1883-12/31/1883: "Don't think it will help you if you reason that it was only a question of a faded whore and of bastards."
JLB 418, 12/28/1883: "Don't think that you can fool yourself that it was nothing, or just my imagination; don't think that it will help you to argue that this is just about one faded whore and her bastards."

Context:
BVG350a, 12/15/1883-12/31/1883: "Don't think it will help you if you reason that it was only a question of a faded whore and of bastards."
JLB 418, 12/28/1883: "Don't think that you can fool yourself that it was nothing, or just my imagination; don't think that it will help you to argue that this is just about one faded whore and her bastards."

The thrust of this extraordinarily obscure passage appears to be this: In their conversation, Theo wondered why Vincent did not leave Sien and suggested that it was because he had fathered Sien's son, Willem. Although Vincent twice calls the accusation "absurd," he does not appear to deny it directly. Instead, he mounts a defense -- not against the deed, but against the calumny. He insists that he is playing by different rules: the rules of "a farm labourer or factory worker" (ibid.). And his actions, including fathering a child out of wedlock, should be seen in that light -- as part of that whole (an argument he has used to defend his drawings). If he had been in Theo's position, if he laid claim to a place in the family, a place in society, then an illegitimate child would be a shame that would require him to withdraw from proper society ("withdraw of my own accord from contact with people who keep up a certain position "), and even from his family (ibid.). But because he does not make any such claims, because he is an artist who aspires to the life of a laborer (as opposed to "painters in other circumstances who can and must act differently"), an illegitimate child should not be looked on in that way, and he is under no obligation to apologize, feel ashamed, or withdraw (ibid.). Vincent adopts the same dismissive, unapologetic tone in a third letter only days later: "But I desire only that you shouldn't doubt me with respect to good will, application -- and grant me a little common sense so that you don't suspect me of doing silly things, and so quietly let me carry on working in my normal way" (JLB 377, 8/20/1883; emphasis added).

It is not until a year later that he returns to the subject. In 1884, living in Nuenen, where his father is the parson, Vincent becomes involved with a local woman, Margot Begemann. In September, Margot attempts suicide. Vincent claims that her family, who did not approve of their courtship, drove her to it by accusing her of having had sex with Vincent and perhaps making her pregnant (see Chapter 22). "Theo, now that I know more than I did at first about what made her so desperate, do you know what it was? Her family spoke to her in pretty much the same tone as you to me -- that evening. Well, I was furious with you (then, that's passed now), and she would also have taken umbrage at it if she'd had my constitution." (JLB 458, 9/21/1884; emphasis in original.) Again, in a later letter, Vincent draws the parallel between the hurtful accusation Margot's sisters made against her and the infuriating accusation Theo made against him the year before: "As for you, on looking back I feel sure that now you would not speak the way you did that evening any more (JLB 469, 11/14/1884). The undisclosed common subject could only be of a personal, sexual, scandalous nature. The other issues argued over by Vincent and Theo in the summer of 1883 would have no parallels in the Begemann imbroglio. 

Context:
BVG 377, 9/15/1884-9/30/1884: "Well, then I decidedly lost my temper with you ... "
JLB 458, 9/21/1884: "Well, I was furious with you …" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 375, 8/18/1883: Just to return briefly to what you said on leaving: 'I'm beginning to think more and more like Pa.'"

Context:
BVG 312, 8/17/1883: "… it is: do not hurry me in the various things we could not settle at once, for I need some time to decide."
JLB 375, 8/18/1883: "It is: not to rush me in the various matters we were unable to deal with all at once this time. For I need some time in order to decide."

Context:
JLB 375, 8/18/1883: "For be assured that the continuing main thought -- compared with which all the rest becomes as little as nothing -- is and will remain, whatever the future brings, a sense of gratitude towards you."

Context:
JLB 375, 8/18/1883: "By sticking to one's work, things will come out right in the end. For instance, take Mesdag, a real mastodon or hippopotamus, but he sells his pictures. I am not that far yet, but the man I mention also began late and worked his way along an honest, manly path, wherever he may be in other respects. I don't leave things undone from laziness, but rather to be able to work more, putting aside everything that does not belong directly to the work ... I beg you to have patience."

Context:
JLB 375, 8/18/1883: "It wasn't so much that I got angry with you as that you astonished me, because you know how much pain I've already suffered over it, and that it has become a piece of gossip that won't disappear whatever I do. Anyway. At all events I have the new suit from you and the old one, which is certainly still good, and so it's over for the time being, isn't it?, and let's say no more about it.

Context:
JLB 375, 8/18/1883: "I'm terribly sorry that I make life difficult for you -- perhaps it will clear up by itself -- but if you're faltering, tell me plainly. In that case I would rather give up everything than make you carry a heavier burden than you can bear."

Context:
JLB 377, 8/20/1883: "I'm at your disposal."

Context:
BVG 315, 8/20/1883-8/21/1883: "All my ideas about my work are so well ordered, so definite, that I think you would do well to accept what I say: let me go my own way, just as I am."
JLB 377, 8/20/1883: "As regards my work all my ideas are so ordered, so definite, that I believe you'd do well to accept what I say: let me get on with it as I am …"

Context:
JLB 375, 8/18/1883: "I'm terribly sorry that I make life difficult for you -- perhaps it will clear up by itself -- but if you're faltering, tell me plainly. In that case I would rather give up everything than make you carry a heavier burden than you can bear. Then I would certainly go to London right away to look for no matter what, even carrying bales, and leave art for better times, at least having a studio and painting."

Context:
BVG 312, 8/17/1883: "I would rather give up everything than put too heavy a burden on your shoulders."
JLB 375, 8/18/1883: "… I would rather give up everything than make you carry a heavier burden than you can bear."

Context:
BVG 313, 8/18/1883: "So this is the fact: My firm resolve is to be dead to anything except my work."
JLB 374, 8/17/1883: "Thus we're faced by this fact, my firm intention to be dead to everything except my work."

Context:
BVG 313, 8/18/1883: "Regards -- good luck on your journey -- write soon -- but you know now how I shall face the future, with serenity, and without a line on my face to betray the struggle in my very depths …"
JLB 374, 8/17/1883: "Regards -- safe journey -- write soon -- but you understand how I will approach the future, with serenity and without one sign in my face betraying the struggle in the deepest depths."

Context:
BVG 316, 8/21/1883: "… but yet -- I should like to be alone with nature for a time -- far away from the city."
JLB 378, 8/21/1883: "But still, I would like to be alone with nature for once -- without the city."

Context:
JLB 370, 8/3/1883: "This is just the right time, and for that reason there can be no question of taking a holiday, for I'll keep at it as best I can."

Context:
JLB 370, 8/3/1883: "I literally can't put it into practice, because going to the polders for a fortnight would cost me more than staying at home for a fortnight, and I don't even know how I'll scrape by at home for the next fortnight" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 316, 8/21/1883: "Once there, I think I would remain permanently in that country of heath and moorland, where more and more painters are settling down, so that perhaps, after a time, a kind of colony of painters might spring up."
JLB 378, 8/21/1883: "Once there, I believe I would stay for good in the heathland and the peat districts, where more and more painters are coming, and in time a kind of painters' colony might develop."

Context:
BVG 297, 7/2/1883: "Here I could also do what I want if I could earn a little more and go here and there to make studies."
JLB 358, 7/2/1883: " I could do what I want here as well if I could earn some more -- go here and there now and again to get studies."

Context:
JLB 376, 8/19/1883: "A move is desirable, though, but it must also be an economy measure."

Context:
JLB 378, 8/21/1883: "Life there is so much cheaper than here that I believe it would save me 150 or 200 guilders a year in any case, on housing especially in any case."

Context:
JLB 363, 7/22/1883: "Then, if there's no hope for the future financially, I would propose a move to the country, saving half the rent in a village deep in the country, and for the same amount of money that one pays here for bad food getting good, healthy food, which is needed for the woman and the little ones, and for me too in fact. Also having advantages perhaps for models." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 259, 8/26/1882: "I have an everlasting nostalgia for heath and pine-woods with the curious figures. A woman gathering wood, a peasant fetching sand -- in short, that simplicity that has something grand like the sea."

Context:
JLB 363, 7/22/1883: "I would propose a move to the country ... Also having advantages perhaps for models" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 259, 8/26/1882: "You also write about a stretch of heath and a pine-wood nearby. Well, I have an everlasting nostalgia for heath and pine-woods."

Context:
BVG 299, 7/11/1883: " What I should tremendously like to do, and what I feel I could do, too, on the understanding that circumstances made patient posing possible, is the small figure of Father on a path across the heath; the figure rigorously drawn, with character, and as I have said, on a stretch of brown heathland crossed by a narrow white sandy path and a sky applied and suggested with just a touch of passion. In addition, Father and Mother arm in arm, let's say -- in autumnal surroundings -- or against a small beech hedgerow with withered leaves."
JLB 361, 7/11/1883: " Something I'd like to have terribly much, and which I feel I can do, given certain conditions of patient posing, is the figure of Pa on a path on the heath, the figure severely drawn with character and, as I say, a stretch of brown heath with a narrow, white, sandy path running across it, and a sky applied with some passion and evenly expressed. Then, for instance, Pa and Ma arm in arm -- in an autumn setting -- or with a beech hedge with dry leaves."

Context:
JLB 361, 7/11/1883: "Which I feel I can do, given certain conditions of patient posing, is the figure of Pa on a path on the heath" (emphasis added).

Context:
BVG 299, 7/11/1883: "But they will have to understand that it is a serious matter, which they might perhaps not realize if the likeness isn't exact. And so they will have to be gently warned that if it comes off, they will have to adopt the pose I choose and not change it."
JLB 361, 7/11/1883: "But they must know that it's serious, which they might not see for themselves if the likeness isn't exact. And should be a bit prepared, in the event that this happens, for having to pose as I say and not change anything."

Context:
JLB 394, 10/12/1883: "I would consider it desirable that we all understood that circumstances urgently require that Brabant no longer be closed to me. I myself think it better that I do not go there unless there's no other choice, but in the event of an emergency the rent that I'm obliged to pay could be saved, because Pa has a house there rent-free." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 175, 10/12/1881-10/15/1881: "Mauve has gone to Drenthe, have agreed that I'll go to him as soon as he writes to me."

Context:
JLB 181, 11/8/1881-11/9/1881: "Mauve is ill, but Pa and Ma have asked him to come here and get well as soon as he can make the journey."

Context:
JLB 257, 8/14/1882: "I received a letter from Rappard yesterday. He has been to Drenthe, and judging by two sketches he sent me he hasn't been idle."

Context:
BVG 295, 6/22/1883: "I have been working with enormous pleasure lately, and with a firm feeling of 'being on the open road,' as Rappard says of himself in the letter which I sent you."
JLB 356, 6/22/1883: "Otherwise, the work is going well, I've been working with an extraordinary amount of pleasure lately, and with a firm feeling that I'm 'on a road', as R. says of himself in the letter I sent you."

Context:
JLB 344, 5/21/1883: "Now, as to my visit to Rappard -- I'm very glad I went. We'll visit each other in turn more often now. I found one painting by him, a woman spinning, and above all the large sketch for it, the same size, highly serious and truly sympathetic."

Context:
BVG R11, 8/13/1882: "I imagine it is something like Brabant when I was young -- say, some twenty years ago. I remember as a boy seeing that heath and the little farms, the looms and the spinning wheels in exactly the same way I see them now in Mauve's and ter Meulen's drawings."
JLB 256, 8/13/1882: "I imagine it as being like North Brabant when I was young, about 20 years ago. I remember as a boy seeing the heath and the small farmhouses, the looms and the spinning wheels exactly as I see them now in drawings by Mauve and Ter Meulen." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 378, 8/21/1883: "As I say, my thoughts have become fixed on Drenthe, particularly since his visit and what we discussed in connection with the work."

Context:
JLB 378, 8/21/1883: "I suppose if I settled down there [i.e., Drenthe], Rappard would visit that same neighbourhood even more often than now, so that we could profit a little from each other's company."

Context:
BVG 316, 8/21/1883: "I suppose if I settled down there, Rappard would visit that same neighbourhood even more often than now, so that we could profit a little from each other's company."
JLB 378, 8/21/1883: "I think that if I were to settle somewhere there, Rappard would come even more often to that area than now, and we'd be company for each other."

Context:
BVG 316, 8/21/1883: "Once there, I think I would remain permanently in that country of heath and moorland, where more and more painters are settling down, so that perhaps, after a time, a kind of colony of painters might spring up."
JLB 378, 8/21/1883: "Once there, I believe I would stay for good in the heathland and the peat districts, where more and more painters are coming, and in time a kind of painters' colony might develop."

Context:
BVG 317, 8/22/1883-8/23/1883: "The main thing now is to paint a great deal. That, and again saturating myself in nature's serenity on the heath, will bring us victory in the end -- do not doubt it -- and progress from month to month."
JLB 379, 8/23/1883-8/29/1883: "Now, however, painting a lot isn't something that may not be postponed. That, and being steeped once more in the serenity of nature in a heath area -- have no doubt -- will bring us to victory in the end." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 314, 8/19/1883: "Knowing now, however, how her people upset her last year, and fearing she might fall back again, I should like to live with her someplace in a little village where she could see nothing of the town and could live a more natural life."
JLB 376, 8/19/1883: "But knowing now how she was often upset by her family last year, and fearing that she may relapse, I would like to be able to live with her in a village somewhere where she saw nothing of the city and was confronted with a great deal of nature as a matter of course."

Context:
JLB 376, 8/19/1883: "If I left the woman, she might go mad …"

Context:
JLB 376, 8/19/1883: "Well, the little boy is terribly attached to me …"

Context:
JLB 358, 7/2/1883: "I've already thought of country life for her many, many times. But moving also means spending a large amount in one go. And I'd also like to be married before I moved, if it came to going to the country or to London."

Context:
JLB 379, 8/23/1883-8/29/1883: "And you'll understand that I would so dearly like to stop her going under that, if that could be achieved by marrying her, for instance, I would marry her even now."

Context:
JLB 383, 9/7/1883 or 9/8/1883: "In recent days I again saw clearly how looking at the advertisements was done merely for the sake of appearances, and that they're probably waiting for my departure before embarking on something they don't discuss with me. All the more reason for me to leave immediately, for otherwise they'd resort to delaying things deliberately. And the mother again has a hand in this."

Context:
JLB 379, 8/23/1883-8/29/1883: "She -- and long ago -- from the very beginning could have, should have, fully trusted me -- that was never the case, ... What she listened to and believed more was that I would leave her in the lurch after all, which, if it were finally to happen in the end, precisely because she sees it like that, would be more the family's fault than hers, because the family continually upset her with that."

Context:
BVG 319, 9/4/1883: "As I wrote you, I had spoken to the woman -- we felt that in the future it would be impossible for us to stay together, nay, that we should make each other unhappy, yet we both felt how strongly we are attached to each other."
JLB 381, 9/5/1883: "I spoke to the woman as I wrote to you -- we felt that staying together in the future was ruled out, indeed that we'd make each other unhappy, but we felt on both sides how strongly we were attached to each other."

Context:
BVG 318, 9/2/1883: "I told her, 'perhaps you will not be able to stay quite straight, but go as straight as possible.'"
JLB 380, 9/2/1883: "I said to her, you may not be able to manage by going entirely straight, but go as straight as possible."

Context:
BVG 318, 9/2/1883: "That she must get her people to take the children, and that she must look for a job."
JLB 380, 9/2/1883: "She'd have to get her family to take the children in, and that she must go into service."

In reporting the storm to Theo, Vincent recasts it as the consolation he needed, taking great care to frame it in the poetic nature imagery that he knew his brother loved as a signal that he had come out of his long enthrallment to Sien (and, by extension, the figure): "Well, at that moment, high above the meadows as endless as the desert, came one driven mass of cloud after the other, and the wind first struck the row of country houses with their trees on the opposite side of the waterway, where the black cinder road runs. Those trees, they were superb, there was a drama in each figure I'm tempted to say, but I mean in each tree. Then, the whole was almost finer than those windblown trees seen on their own, because the moment was such that even those absurd summer houses took on a singular character, rain-soaked and dishevelled. In it I saw an image of how even a person of absurd forms and conventions, or another full of eccentricity and caprice, can become a dramatic figure of special character if he's gripped by true sorrow, moved by a calamity." (ibid.) 

Context:
JLB 378, 8/21/1883: "I'm also expecting a letter from Rappard about Drenthe. In any case, I'll write to you again soon about a plan to simply stay here when I have information from my landlord about a place in Voorburg that he says I may be able to get cheaply."

The "someone" he refers to is probably Michiel Anthonie de Zwart, the thirty-year-old son of and business manager for Vincent's landlord, Pieter Willem de Zwart. The arrangement with De Zwart eventually becomes a source of friction (as Vincent's business deals often did) because he failed to pay the storage fee he agreed to. Vincent, of course, portrays himself as the wronged party: "I got a note from my former landlord, who gave me the impression that he could seize my things that I left behind (including all my studies, prints, books -- that I could hardly do without) if I didn't send him 10 guilders that I've promised him as payment for the use of an attic room for my belongings, and some rent that it was doubtful he was entitled to claim, but I agreed on condition of an arrangement to store my things." (JLB 408, 12/1/1883.) 

Context:
BVG 320, 9/6/1883-9/7/1883: "Well, I had to decide, as each week's delay took me deeper into the labyrinth, without additional benefit to her."
JLB 382, 9/6/1883: "Well, I had to decide, because every week of delay got me more entangled in thorns here, without any progress with her."

Context:
BVG 321, 9/7/1883-9/8/1883: "This plan is again a corruption of what they started a few days ago; it will almost certainly lead to nothing but wretchedness."
JLB 383, 9/7/1883 or 9/8/1883: "This plan, which is again a twisting of what they began a few days ago, will almost certainly lead to nothing but wretchedness."

Context:
JLB 382, 9/6/1883: "I had to decide to separate, precisely because I was almost as certain of that then as I am now that I know more exactly what the plans were. Having taken the decision, I wanted to go ahead with my travel plans without delay." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 378, 8/21/1883: "A journey there [Drenthe] to assess the situation would seem to me unnecessary, really."

Context:
BVG 322, 9/10/1883: "Friend Rappard has also started on his trip, has left Drenthe already, has almost reached Terschelling. He wrote to me from Drenthe: 'The country has a very serious character, the figures often reminded me of studies of yours.'"
JLB 384, 9/10/1883: "Friend Rappard is also travelling, and already has Drenthe behind him and is nearly on Terschelling. He wrote to me from Drenthe 'the country here is very earnest in mood, the figures often made me think of studies by you."

Context:
JLB 383, 9/7/1883 or 9/8/1883: "Do your best towards the tenth to send me enough for me to be able to leave if need be, because this would be wise. All the same, don't put yourself in difficulties for I'll act according to the circumstances and write to you straightaway to say what I've done."

Context:
BVG 318, 9/2/1883: "But the sooner the better. I want to be free of that heavy rent, you see, and I want to leave here as soon as possible."
JLB 380, 9/2/1883: "But first I want to be rid of the burden of my house rent, the sooner the better, you understand, and I want to go over there, the sooner the better."

Context:
JLB 380, 9/2/1883: "I want to go over there, the sooner the better. I need it to make progress. Drenthe, Katwijk [a seaside village just north of The Hague], Brabant, I don't mind. To stay for a time with a farmer or someone, far, far away in the country, far enough away for nature there to be real."

Context:
BVG 318, 9/2/1883: "… to live with a farmer for a time, far, far away in the country -- far away, alone with nature."
JLB 380, 9/2/1883: "To stay for a time with a farmer or someone, far, far away in the country, far enough away for nature there to be real."

Context:
JLB 384, 9/10/1883: "I've just received your letter and the 100 francs enclosed. And I leave tomorrow for Hoogeveen in Drenthe."

Context:
JLB 385, 9/11/1883-9/12/1883: "The woman and her children were with me until the last minute, of course, and the parting wasn't very easy when I left." Vincent also reports that his land surveyor friend and student, Antoine Furnée, "came to the station to see me."

Context:
BVG 326, 9/21/1883: "As I told you, the little boy was very fond of me, and when I was already on the train, I still had him on my lap."
JLB 388, 9/21/1883: "As I wrote to you, the little lad loved me very much, and when I was already sitting in the wagon I still had him on my lap."

Context:
BVG 322, 9/10/1883: "That is a thing I thought over at once, and because my work so indubitably demands my going away, my opinion is that my work is my duty, even more immediate than the woman, and that the former must not suffer because of the latter."
JLB 384, 9/10/1883: 'That's something I immediately thought about a great deal, and because my work so undoubtedly demands the step of going there, it's my understanding that work is more directly duty than even the woman, and that the former mustn't suffer for the sake of the latter."

Context:
JLB 381, 9/5/1883: "I received your letter just now when I came home from the dunes behind Loosduinen, soaking wet because I had spent 3 hours in the rain at a spot where everything was Ruisdael, Daubigny or Jules Dupré. I came back with a study of crooked, windswept trees, and a second of a farm after the rain. Everything is already bronze, everything is what one can see in nature only at this time of year, or if one stands before one of those paintings like a Dupré, for instance, and so beautiful that one's imagination always falls short of it."

Context:
JLB 384, 9/10/1883: "So thanks for this, and I believe it'll prove to be a good step. My plan is to stay there until you come to Holland next year, for instance. I wouldn't want to miss you then. But in that way I would just see all the seasons go by and have a general view of the character of things in that region."

Context:
JLB 381, 9/5/1883: "My plan is to get a long way with painting in Drenthe so that I'll be eligible for the Drawing Society when I come back."

Context:
JLB 381, 9/5/1883: "My plan is to get a long way with painting in Drenthe so that I'll be eligible for the Drawing Society when I come back. That, in turn, is linked to a second plan, to go to England."

Context:
BVG 317, 8/22/1883-8/23/1883: " The main thing now is to paint a great deal. That, and again saturating myself in nature's serenity on the heath, will bring us victory in the end -- do not doubt it -- and progress from month to month."
JLB 379, 8/23/1883-8/29/1883: " Now, however, painting a lot isn't something that may not be postponed. That, and being steeped once more in the serenity of nature in a heath area -- have no doubt -- will bring us to victory in the end, and to progress from one month to another." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 299, 7/11/1883: "I do at times like the work of [Ernst Theodor Amadeus] Hoffmann and Edgar [Allen] Poe (the Fantastic Tales, Raven, etc.) but I find Breitner's stuff objectionable because the imagination behind it is clumsy and meaningless and has virtually no contact with reality."
JLB 361, 7/11/1883: "I like the work of Hoffmann and Edgar Poe on occasion. (Contes fantastiques, Raven &c.) But I find this unpalatable because the fantasy is heavy-handed and without meaning, and there are almost no correspondences to what exists."