Notes

Context:
JLB 378, 8/21/1883: "I have a map of Drenthe in front of me. On it I see a large white area with no names of villages. It's crossed by the Hoogeveen waterway, which ends suddenly, and I see the words Peat moors written on the map straight across the blank area. Around that blank area a number of black dots with the names of villages, a red dot for the small town of Hoogeveen."

Context:
JLB 378, 8/21/1883: "On the boundary [on the peat moors on the map] a lake -- the black lake -- a name that gives pause for thought -- I imagine various dredging workers on the banks. Several village names, like Oosterheuvelen [Eastern Hills], Erica, also make one think."

Context:
BVG 316, 8/21/1883: "I have a small map of Drenthe before me. On it I can see a large white space devoid of any village names."
JLB 378, 8/21/1883: "I have a map of Drenthe in front of me. On it I see a large white area with no names of villages."

Context:
BVG 316, 8/21/1883: "Near the boundary, a lake -- the Black Lake -- a name to conjure with -- I picture all sorts of workman dredging the banks."
JLB 378, 8/21/1883: "On the boundary a lake -- the black lake -- a name that gives pause for thought -- I imagine various dredging workers on the banks."

Context:
BVG 316, 8/21/1883: "I have a small map of Drenthe before me. On it I can see a large white space devoid of any village names. It is crossed by the Hoogeveen canal, which suddenly comes to an end, and I see the words ' peat moors' written right across the blank space on the map. Around that blank space, a number of small black dots with the names of villages and a red one for the little town of Hoogeveen."
JLB 378, 8/21/1883: "I have a map of Drenthe in front of me. On it I see a large white area with no names of villages. It's crossed by the Hoogeveen waterway, which ends suddenly, and I see the words Peat moors written on the map straight across the blank area. Around that blank area a number of black dots with the names of villages, a red dot for the small town of Hoogeveen."

Context:
JLB 387, 9/16/1883: "The heath is much vaster than it is in Brabant, near Zundert or Etten at least -- rather monotonous, particularly when it's afternoon and the sun's shining, and yet it's that very effect, which I've already vainly tried to paint several times, that I shouldn't want to miss. The sea isn't always picturesque either, but one has to look at those moments and effects as well if one doesn't want to deceive oneself as to its true character. Then -- the heath is sometimes far from pleasant in the heat of midday. It's as irritatingly tedious and fatiguing as the desert, just as inhospitable, and as it were hostile. Painting it in that blazing light and capturing the planes vanishing into infinity is something that makes one dizzy."

Context:
JLB 392, 10/3/1883: "Accentuated here and there by a sod hut or small farm or a few scrawny birches, poplars, oaks. Stacks of peat everywhere, and always barges sailing past with peat or bulrushes from the marshes."

Context:
JLB 402, 11/2/1883: "The poor soil of Drenthe is the same, only the black earth is even blacker -- like soot -- not a lilac black like the furrows, and melancholically overgrown with eternally rotting heather and peat."

Context:
BVG 316, 8/21/1883: "I see the words 'peat moors' written right across the blank space on the map. Around that blank space, a number of small black dots with the names of villages and a red one for the little town of Hoogeveen."
JLB 378, 8/21/1883: "I see the words Peat moors written on the map straight across the blank area. Around that blank area a number of black dots with the names of villages, a red dot for the small town of Hoogeveen."

Context:
BVG 329, 9/28/1883: "Hoogeveen itself is classed as a town on the map, where it is marked with a red dot, but in reality it isn't (it doesn't even have a tower)."
JLB 391, 9/28/1883: "Hoogeveen itself is indeed on the map as a town, where it's marked with a red dot, but in reality it isn't (there isn't even a tower)."

Context:
JLB 385, 9/11/1883-9/12/1883: "The village or town here is mainly one long row of houses by the harbour, many new houses and a few more beautiful old ones."

Context:
BVG 323, 9/11/1883-9/12/1883: "In the village harbour I saw very quaint peat barges, and figures of bargemen's wives dressed as they are here in the hayfield -- very picturesque. ... The village, or little town, is just a long row of houses along the harbour, many new houses and a few more beautiful old ones."
JLB 385, 9/11/1883-9/12/1883: "In the village harbour I saw really authentic peat barges and the figures of bargemen. Women wearing the local costume in the hayfield -- fine. ... The village or town here is mainly one long row of houses by the harbour, many new houses and a few more beautiful old ones."

Context:
JLB 392, 10/3/1883: "Here and there thin cows of a delicate colour, often sheep -- pigs."

Context:
JLB 386, 9/14/1883: "One can see that many of the people have something wrong with them -- it isn't exactly healthy here, I think -- perhaps because of unclean drinking water."

Context:
BVG 324, 9/14/1883: " The heath is magnificent. I've seen sheepfolds and shepherds more beautiful than those in Brabant."
JLB 386, 9/14/1883: " The heathland is rich. I saw sheepfolds and shepherds that were more attractive than those in Brabant."

Context:
JLB 387, 9/16/1883: "Everything is beautiful here, wherever one goes."

Context:
BVG 326, 9/21/1883: "The heath is splendid, and there are marshy meadows that often remind me of Th. [Théodore Rousseau] Rousseau."
JLB 388, 9/21/1883: "The heath is rich, and there are marshy meadows that often remind me of Theo. Rousseau."

Context:
BVG 330, 10/3/1883: "This evening the heath was inexpressibly lovely. There is a Daubigny in one of the Boetzel Albums which conveys the effect precisely."
JLB 392, 10/3/1883: "The heath was extraordinarily beautiful this evening. There's a Daubigny in one of the Albums Boetzel that expresses that effect precisely."

Context:
BVG 323, 9/11/1883-9/12/1883: "The weather is splendid, the air is clear and bracing, as in Brabant."
JLB 385, 9/11/1883-9/12/1883: "The weather was marvellous, the air is clear and sparkling, like it is in Brabant."

Context:
BVG 323, 9/11/1883-9/12/1883: "The weather is splendid, the air is clear and bracing, as in Brabant."
JLB 385, 9/11/1883-9/12/1883: "The weather was marvellous, the air is clear and sparkling, like it is in Brabant."

Context:
BVG 327, 9/24/1883: "I have seen superb figures, but I repeat, a scenery that has so much nobility, so much dignity and gravity, must be treated after deep reflection and with patience and steady work."
JLB 389, 9/24/1883: "I came across superb figures -- but again, a nature that has so much nobility, so much dignity and gravity must be treated with maturity and patience and prolonged work."

Context:
JLB 389, 9/24/1883: "... the longer I stay here the more beautiful I find it, and from the outset I'll try to stay here in this region. This is why, in my view, from the outset I mustn't regard it as just coming to take a look around here, but it's in the nature of the thing, if all goes well and we're granted a little good fortune, that I'll stay for good."

Context:
JLB 387, 9/16/1883: "I'm very glad that I'm here because, old chap, it is rich here."

Context:
BVG 324, 9/14/1883: "Inside, these cottages, dark as a cave, are very beautiful."
JLB 386, 9/14/1883: "Well, it's very beautiful inside these huts, dark as a cave."

Context:
JLB 385, 9/11/1883-9/12/1883: "In the village harbour I saw really authentic peat barges and the figures of bargemen. Women wearing the local costume in the hayfield -- fine."

Context:
JLB 386, 9/14/1883: "I'll tell you how here one sees, for example, barges pulled by men, women, children, white or black horses, loaded with peat, in the middle of the heath, just like the ones in Holland, on the Trekweg at Rijswijk, for instance" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 385, 9/11/1883-9/12/1883: "In the village harbour I saw really authentic peat barges and the figures of bargemen. Women wearing the local costume in the hayfield -- fine."

At the time of Vincent's arrival, Henderika Hartsuiker was twenty-two; Johan Seijdel, twenty; Jacob Seijdel, nineteen; Catharina Hartsuiker, twelve; Hibertus Hartsuiker, eleven; and Adrianus Hartsuiker, nine. Catharina Beukema, was forty-eight. Vincent reports "3 children" living with Albertus and his wife (ibid.). This apparently is a mistake or a misunderstanding on Vincent's part. At the time of his arrival, only Henderika is known to have moved away (to Meppel). According to Dijk and Van der Sluis, both Johan and Jacob were probably still living "at home," although Johan may have already begun his military service. Jacob worked as a "boat-hand" in Hoogeveen. Dijk and Van der Sluis seem to propose that Vincent either did not know Jacob or Johan, or perhaps thought they were unrelated because they were not living in the same unit as their mother and stepfather. (See Dijk and Van der Sluis, pp. 83-103.) 

Context:
JLB 387, 9/16/1883: "The people I'm lodging with are very good. The man works on the freight railway, a fellow with something Degroux-like about him, a face that sometimes takes on the colour of red cabbage, a real workhorse. The woman very industrious and tidy. 3 children."

Context:
BVG 325, 9/16/1883: "The people with whom I board are excellent; the man works at the railway depot, the fellow has something De Groux-like about him -- a face that sometimes has the colour of red cabbage, a real coolie; the woman, very active and neat; 3 children."
JLB 387, 9/16/1883: "The man works on the freight railway, a fellow with something Degroux-like about him, a face that sometimes takes on the colour of red cabbage, a real workhorse. The woman very industrious and tidy. 3 children."

Context:
BVG 330, 10/3/1883: "There are lots of [Adriaen van] Ostade types among them, physiognomies that put one in mind of pigs or crows, but now and then a little figure who is like a lily among the thorns."
JLB 392, 10/3/1883: "There are a lot of Ostade types among them, physiognomies that remind one of pigs or crows, but every so often there's a little figure that's like a lily among the thorns."

Context:
BVG 324, 9/14/1883: "And the melancholy which things in general have here is of a healthy kind, as in drawings by Millet."
JLB 386, 9/14/1883: "And the melancholy which things in general have is of a healthy kind, as in Millet's drawings."

Context:
BVG 326, 9/21/1883: " The more I walk around here, the better I like Hoogeveen, and I do not doubt that it will remain so."
JLB 388, 9/21/1883: " The more I walk around the area, the more I'm coming to like Hoogeveen itself, and I don't doubt that this will remain so."

Context:
BVG 327, 9/24/1883: "Last week I went farther into the peat fields -- splendid scenery. I think it is more and more beautiful here, and I intend to stay in this neighbourhood from now on."
JLB 389, 9/24/1883: "Went further into the peat fields last week -- marvellous scenes, the longer I stay here the more beautiful I find it, and from the outset I'll try to stay here in this region."

Context:
JLB 385, 9/11/1883-9/12/1883: "After that, though, I may go deeper into the countryside, but I'll wait until I have a little stock of paint."

Context:
JLB 385, 9/11/1883-9/12/1883: "I've been talking to people here, and in a day or two I'll take the barge and travel all the way down the Hoogeveense Vaart through the peat bogs, right across the south-east corner of Drenthe."

Context:
JLB 385, 9/11/1883-9/12/1883: "At least it's nice that I heard on the very first evening that I can go by barge right through the whole peat district as far as the Prussian border and the Zwarte Meer."

Context:
BVG 323, 9/11/1883-9/12/1883: " Further into the country it will be even more beautiful; but for the present I see very good things even here."
JLB 385, 9/11/1883-9/12/1883: " It will probably be even more beautiful deeper into the countryside, but meanwhile I'm already seeing very good things -- even here."

Context:
BVG 330, 10/3/1883: "I don't think I shall be able to do justice to the countryside because words fail me, but imagine the banks of the canal as miles and miles of, say, [Georges] Michels or Th. Rousseaus, Van Goyens or Ph. [Phillips] de Konincks."
JLB 392, 10/3/1883: "I see no way of describing the countryside to you as it should be done, because words fail me. But imagine the banks of the canal as miles and miles of Michels or Theo. Rousseaus, say, Van Goyens or P. de Koninck."

Context:
JLB 392, 10/3/1883: "I see no way of describing the countryside to you as it should be done, because words fail me. But imagine the banks of the canal as miles and miles of Michels or Theo. Rousseaus, say, Van Goyens or P. de Koninck."

Context:
JLB 392, 10/3/1883: "I see no way of describing the countryside to you as it should be done, because words fail me. But imagine the banks of the canal as miles and miles of Michels or Theo. Rousseaus, say, Van Goyens or P. de Koninck."

Context:
JLB 392, 10/3/1883: "But what tranquillity, what breadth, what calm there is in nature here, one doesn't feel it until one has miles and miles of Michels between oneself and the everyday" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 386, 9/14/1883: "I can't more accurately describe the way the exterior looks in the twilight or just after sunset than by reminding you of a particular painting by Jules Dupré which I think belongs to Mesdag, with two huts in it on which the mossy roofs stand out surprisingly deep in tone against a hazy, dusty evening sky. That is here." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 388, 9/21/1883: "The heath is rich, and there are marshy meadows that often remind me of Theo. Rousseau."

Context:
JLB 386, 9/14/1883: "I saw superb figures out in the country -- striking in their expression of soberness. A woman's breast, for example, has that heaving motion that is the exact opposite of voluptuousness, and sometimes, if the creature is old or sickly, arouses compassion or else respect."

Context:
BVG 325, 9/16/1883: "In the evening when a poor little figure is moving through the twilight -- when that vast sun-scorched earth stands out darkly against the delicate lilac hues of the evening sky, and the very last little dark-blue line at the horizon separates the earth from the sky -- that same aggravating, monotonous spot can be as sublime as a Jules Dupré. ... It is very beautiful to see the real heather on the graves. The smell of turpentine has something mystical about it, the dark stretch of pine wood border separates a sparkling sky from the rugged earth, which has a generally ruddy hue -- fawn -- brownish, yellowish, but everywhere with lilac tones."
JLB 387, 9/16/1883: "That same irritatingly tedious spot -- in the evening as a poor little figure moves through the twilight -- when that vast, sun-scorched earth stands out dark against the delicate lilac tints of the evening sky, and the very last fine dark blue line on the horizon separates earth from sky -- can be as sublime as in a J. Dupré. ... It's a beautiful sight to see the real heather on the graves, the scent of turpentine has something mystical about it. The dark band of pines that encloses it separates a shimmering sky from the rough ground, which is generally a reddish colour -- tawny -- brownish -- yellowish, but with lilac tints everywhere." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 325, 9/16/1883: "So with the next money I will order some at once, enough for a few more studies. For the rest, I am drawing, but you know quite well that painting must be the main thing as much as possible."
JLB 387, 9/16/1883: "So I'll immediately send for something or other with the next money, again for some studies. Otherwise I'm drawing, but you know very well that painting must be the main thing as far as possible."

Context:
BVG 318, 9/2/1883: "I must -- let me say it frankly -- try to paint a hundred serious studies ... I must carry this through."
JLB 380, 9/2/1883: "I must -- let me say it plainly for once -- try to paint about a hundred substantial studies. You see, persevering with them." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 386, 9/14/1883: "I enclose a scratch after my first painted study from this part of the world, a hut on the heath. A hut made of nothing but sods of turf and sticks. I've also seen inside about 6 of this type, and more studies of them will follow."

Context:
JLB 386, 9/14/1883: "I can't convey the way they look outside in the dusk or just after sunset better than by reminding you of a certain painting by Jules Dupré, which I think belongs to Mesdag and shows two cottages, their moss-covered roofs standing out surprisingly deep in tone against a misty, hazy evening sky."

Context:
JLB 387, 9/16/1883: "I'm working on another study of a red sun between little birches standing in a marshy meadow from which the white evening mist rises; above this one can just see a blue-grey line of trees and a few roofs on the horizon."

Context:
BVG 327, 9/24/1883: "For it is so beautiful here that it will require a lot more study to render it, and only very elaborate work can give an exact idea of the way things are basically in their serious, sober character."
JLB 389, 9/24/1883: "For it's so beautiful here that at the same time a great deal of study is needed to capture it, and only solid work can give a truer understanding of things as they are at bottom, and of their serious, sober nature."

Context:
JLB 389, 9/24/1883: "For it's so beautiful here that at the same time a great deal of study is needed to capture it, and only solid work can give a truer understanding of things as they are at bottom, and of their serious, sober nature."

Context:
JLB 387, 9/16/1883: "I hope to be able to send you studies from here before too long, when I've got a few together. And give it some thought, perhaps some of them might be something for Wisselingh."

Context:
BVG 318, 9/2/1883: "I must -- let me say it frankly -- try to paint a hundred serious studies ... I must carry this through. And those studies must have practical subjects too. Characteristic bits of nature."
JLB 380, 9/2/1883: "I must -- let me say it plainly for once -- try to paint about a hundred substantial studies. You see, persevering with them. And these studies must be practical subjects too. Fragments of nature with character." (Emphasis in original.)

Context: BVG 319, 9/4/1883: "For me, it is directly connected with my trying to become a member of the Society of Draftsmen, and then going to England -- because I know for sure that if I succeed in putting some sentiment into the subjects out there, they will find sympathy in England."
JLB 381, 7/5/1883: "But for me it's already linked directly to becoming a member of the Drawing Society and also to England -- because I know for sure that the subjects from over there will be sympathetically received in England if I'm able to put some sentiment into them."

Context:
BVG 315, 8/20/1883-8/21/1883: "Of course I do not find you in Fromont Jeune, but in Riszler ainé -- in his being absorbed in his work, his resoluteness there, for the rest a simple fellow and rather careless and short-sighted, wanting little for himself, so that he himself did not change when he became rich -- I find some likeness to myself."
JLB 377, 8/20/1883: "I do NOT see you in Fromont Jeune of course, but I do see a resemblance between myself and Risler aîné -- in his absorption in his work, his decisiveness in that, while otherwise he was an ' ordinary chap' and fairly nonchalant and short-sighted, his few wants for himself, so that he changed nothing for himself when he became rich" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 377, 8/20/1883: "I do see a resemblance between myself and Risler aîné -- in his absorption in his work, his decisiveness in that, while otherwise he was an 'ordinary chap' and fairly nonchalant and short-sighted, his few wants for himself, so that he changed nothing for himself when he became rich" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 402, 11/2/1883: "The poor soil of Drenthe is the same, only the black earth is even blacker -- like soot -- not a lilac black like the furrows, and melancholically overgrown with eternally rotting heather and peat."

Context:
BVG 343, 12/1/1883: "Add to this that particular torture, loneliness, and really you will no longer be able to imagine me 'well off,' either in the present or the past."
JLB 408, 12/1/1883: "Add to this that singular torture ... loneliness, and you really will no longer be able to think that there's any possibility of my feeling 'flush' for the time being -- or that I felt it then" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 385, 9/11/1883-9/12/1883: "As soon as you receive this be so good as to pop a postcard or something in the post to see if it arrives all right."

Context:
BVG 331, 10/7/1883: "But I am so out of everything, I know so little about it directly -- I think the few words I heard from Wisselingh about London are the only things I have heard about business in a year and a half, so I may be quite mistaken."
JLB 393, 10/7/1883: "However, I'm so out of things, I really have such a complete lack of direct knowledge of it -- I think the few words about London that I heard from Wisselingh are all that I've heard about the business in 1 1/2 years -- that I may have got it all entirely wrong" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 343, 12/1/1883: "Indeed, this may be a small misery, but it is a sorrow after all: A feeling of being an outcast -- particularly strange and unpleasant -- though the country may be ever so stimulating and beautiful."
JLB 408, 12/1/1883: "Granted it may be a petty vexation, but a vexation it is. Being a stranger, doubly strange and unpleasant -- however stimulating and beautiful the countryside may be." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 292, 6/10/1883: "One cannot always live away from one's native land, and one's native land is not nature alone -- there must also be human hearts who search for and feel the same things. And only then is the native land perfect only then does one feel at home."
JLB 352, 6/11/1883: "One can't always live outside the fatherland, and the fatherland isn't just nature; to that must be added human hearts that seek and feel the same. It's only then that the fatherland is complete and one feels at home."

Context:
JLB 391, 9/28/1883: "One must picture oneself being mistrusted in inns &c. -- like any poor pedlar (for that's how they view one) -- one often has to pay the money for lodgings -- as I had to do even here -- in advance in order to get a room by the grace of God" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 391, 9/28/1883: "In short, one mustn't undertake them unless one feels through and through that one will always and everywhere be faced with people who stand gaping at someone but don't lift a finger to help."

Context:
BVG 329, 9/28/1883: "One must expect to be distrusted at every inn -- like any poor peddler (for that is what they take one for). Often one has to pay the money for board and lodging in advance -- as I have to do here -- to get them to take one in for pity's sake."
JLB 391, 9/28/1883: "One must picture oneself being mistrusted in inns &c. -- like any poor pedlar (for that's how they view one) -- one often has to pay the money for lodgings -- as I had to do even here -- in advance in order to get a room by the grace of God" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 386, 9/14/1883: "A hut made of nothing but sods of turf and sticks. I've also seen inside about 6 of this type, and more studies of them will follow."

Context:
JLB 396, 10/15/1883: "The plan is simple enough. There would be talk about you, too, but there would be 6 hours' walking through Michels between the miserable little town of Hoogeveen and you, so you wouldn't be in the least bit bothered by it, would you?" (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 343, 12/1/1883: "I say loneliness, and not solitude, but that loneliness -- which a painter has to bear, whom everybody in such isolated areas regards as a lunatic, a murderer, a tramp, etc. etc."
JLB 408, 12/1/1883: "I say loneliness and not even in peace -- but that loneliness which a painter in an isolated region encounters when every Tom, Dick and Harry takes him to be a madman -- a murderer -- a vagabond &c. &c." (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 328, 9/26/1883: " I take it so much to heart that I do not get on better with people in general; it worries me a great deal, because so much of my success in carrying out my work depends on it."
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: " It really bothers me that I have so little success with people in general, I'm very concerned about this, and all the more so because rising above it and getting on with the work is at stake here."

Context:
BVG 339, 10/15/1883: "The plan it is simple enough; people would gossip about you, too, but there would be six hours' walking distance of landscape à la Michel between their wretched little town of Hoogeveen and yourself, so it would not trouble you in the least, would it?"
JLB 396, 10/15/1883: "The plan is simple enough. There would be talk about you, too, but there would be 6 hours' walking through Michels between the miserable little town of Hoogeveen and you, so you wouldn't be in the least bit bothered by it, would you?" (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 324, 9/14/1883: "I have been to various other places too, and you'll have some idea now of how primitive it all is here -- Hoogeveen is après tout [after all] a town and yet right next to it one has shepherds, those ovens, those turf huts, etc."
JLB 386, 9/14/1883: "I've also been in various other places, and now you can imagine how unchanged it still is here, since Hoogeveen is a town after all, and yet nearby there are shepherds, those ovens, those turf huts &c."

Context:
BVG 332a, 10/14/1883: "How is it possible for such absurdities to exist in a country like this? Why couldn't they look out of the windows or smoke their pipes, or at least behave as reasonably as, for instance, their pigs, which make no disturbance whatever, though they are pigs, and are in place in these surroundings and in harmony with them."
JLB 395, 10/12/1883-10/13/1883: "How are such absurdities possible, one would say, in countryside like this? Why can't they look out of the window or smoke pipes or something, and at any rate behave as reasonably as their pigs, say, which aren't a nuisance at all, even though they're pigs, and remain in harmony with their surroundings and are in place there?"

Context:
JLB 378, 8/21/1883: "Here the rent above all, and moreover the cost of everything, is nerve-racking. And the heaviest expense, the cost of models, would most certainly be different over there in the sense that for the same amount I could get more and better models or the same number for less money."

Context:
BVG 326, 9/21/1883: "At first I had some bad luck with my models on the heath; they laughed at me, and made fun of me, and I could not finish some studies of the figure I had started because of the unwillingness of the models, notwithstanding that I had paid them well, at least by local standards."
JLB 388, 9/21/1883: "At first I had some trouble here with models on the heath, where people laughed about it and I was ridiculed and couldn't finish figure studies that I'd started because of the unwillingness of the models, although I had paid them well, at least for these parts."

Context:
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "The models -- they refuse to pose if there are bystanders around, and this is the greatest difficulty that makes a studio desirable."

Context:
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "Nevertheless, I've had a model again in the barn, but in very trying light. After all, I don't refuse to do what can be done, but can I do what MUST be done in the circumstances?" (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 329, 9/28/1883: "I know from experience how it ends when one undertakes such an expedition, without knowing whether one will get an answer to, or whether people will listen to, reasonable, rational demands."
JLB 391, 9/28/1883: "I'm sorry I ventured so far without supplies -- I know from prior experience how it can be if one undertakes an excursion like this without knowing that one will also get a response to reasonable, well-founded requests, and that they'll be listened to."

Context:
BVG 343, 12/1/1883: "But for the rest I only look upon it as a bad time, which must be got through, and which one can change but little oneself, that is to say, in the relations with people whom one would love to have as models, but cannot get."
JLB 408, 12/1/1883: "But I see in this only a bad time that one has to get through. Something, though, which one can do very little about oneself -- that is, about the attitude of the people whom one would so much like to have as models and can't get."

Context:
BVG 326, 9/21/1883: "If our society were pure and well regulated, yes, then they would be seducers; but now, in my opinion, one may often consider them more as sisters of charity."
JLB 388, 9/21/1883: "If our society were a pure and ordered one, oh yes, then they were temptresses, now -- many times it seems to me they should be regarded more as sisters of charity than anything else."

Context:
BVG 326, 9/21/1883: "I tell you, brother, I am not good from a clergyman's point of view. I know full well that, frankly speaking, prostitutes are bad, but I feel something human in them which prevents me from feeling the slightest scruple about associating with them; I see nothing very wrong in them. I haven't the slightest regret about any past or present association with them."
JLB 388, 9/21/1883: "I tell you brother, I'm not good in the way of the ministers, I too, not to mince words, think whores are bad, but I nevertheless feel something human in them that means I don't have the slightest scruple about consorting with them, I see nothing particularly evil in them, I haven't the slightest remorse about the acquaintance I have or have had with them."

Context:
BVG 326, 9/21/1883: "I tell you, brother, I am not good from a clergyman's point of view. I know full well that, frankly speaking, prostitutes are bad, but I feel something human in them which prevents me from feeling the slightest scruple about associating with them; I see nothing very wrong in them. I haven't the slightest regret about any past or present association with them."
JLB 388, 9/21/1883: "I tell you brother, I'm not good in the way of the ministers, I too, not to mince words, think whores are bad, but I nevertheless feel something human in them that means I don't have the slightest scruple about consorting with them, I see nothing particularly evil in them, I haven't the slightest remorse about the acquaintance I have or have had with them."

Context:
BVG 324, 9/15/1883: "I know that she is not good, that I have an absolute right to act as I do, that I could not stay with her back there, that I really could not take her with me, that what I did was even sensible and wise, whatever you like; but, for all that, it cuts right through me when I see such a poor little figure feverish and miserable, and it makes my heart melt inside."
JLB 386, 9/14/1883: "I know that she isn't good, that I have every right to do what I'm doing, that to stay with her there WASN'T POSSIBLE, that bringing her with me really wasn't possible either, that what I did was even sensible, wise, what you will, but that doesn't alter the fact that it goes right through me when I see some poor little creature, feverish and miserable, and that then my heart melts."

Context:
BVG 326, 9/21/1883: "Oh, if only the poor woman could have enjoyed it too. I think of her with such tender regret -- though my common sense tells me clearly that it is impossible under the circumstances."
JLB 388, 9/21/1883: "Oh if only the poor woman could have had it -- I think of her with such profound sadness -- although my common sense tells me quite clearly that it's impossible now in the circumstances."

Context:
BVG 325, 9/16/1883: "And if I constantly imagine her as a phantom, it is not as a reproachful one, but I am melancholy because I did not have the means to act toward her as I should have wished."
JLB 387, 9/16/1883: "And the way things are, each time I still see her in my imagination as a phantom, it's not as a reproachful one, but I'm only sad that I didn't have the means to behave towards her as I'd have wished."

Context:
JLB 386, 9/14/1883: "Theo, when I see some poor woman on the heath with a child in her arms or at her breast my eyes become moist. I see her in them; her weakness and slovenliness, too, only serve to intensify the likeness."

Context:
JLB 392, 10/3/1883: "I drew, among others, a woman in the barge with crepe around her cap brooches because she was in mourning, and later a mother with a small child -- this one had a purple scarf around her head."

Context:
JLB 395, 10/12/1883-10/13/1883: "Well, downstairs is an inn and a peasant kitchen with an open peat fire, very cosy in the evenings. One can think best by one of those peasant hearths with a cradle beside it. If I feel melancholy or can't work something out, I just go downstairs. I can tell you that I've heard something indirectly about the woman. After all, I couldn't for the life of me understand why she hadn't even written to me."

Context:
BVG 324, 9/14/1883: "I know that she is not good, that I have an absolute right to act as I do, that I could not stay with her back there, that I really could not take her with me, that what I did was sensible, wise, whatever you like, but that doesn't alter the fact that it cuts right through me when I see a poor little figure like that, feverish and miserable, and it melts my heart."
JLB 386, 9/14/1883: " I know that she isn't good, that I have every right to do what I'm doing, that to stay with her there WASN'T POSSIBLE, that bringing her with me really wasn't possible either, that what I did was even sensible, wise, what you will, but that doesn't alter the fact that it goes right through me when I see some poor little creature, feverish and miserable, and that then my heart melts" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 324, 9/14/1883: "Theo, when I see a poor woman like that on the heath, with a child on her arm or at her breast, my eyes grow moist."
JLB 386, 9/14/1883: "Theo, when I see some poor woman on the heath with a child in her arms or at her breast my eyes become moist."

Context:
JLB 386, 9/14/1883: " I know that she isn't good, that I have every right to do what I'm doing, that to stay with her there WASN'T POSSIBLE, that bringing her with me really wasn't possible either, that what I did was even sensible, wise, what you will, but that doesn't alter the fact that it goes right through me when I see some poor little creature, feverish and miserable, and that then my heart melts. How much sadness there is in life. Well, one may not become melancholy, one must look elsewhere, and to work is the right thing, only there are moments when one only finds peace in the realization: misfortune won't spare me either." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 388, 9/21/1883: "Women like her really are bad, but first infinitely, I say infinitely, more pitiable than bad, and secondly they have a certain passion, certain warmth which has something so very human that the respectable could learn a lesson, and I for my part understand the words of Jesus, who said to the superficially civilized, the respectable people of His time, 'the harlots go BEFORE you'" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 326, 9/21/1883: " Women of her kind are certainly bad, but in the first place they are infinitely -- oh, infinitely more to be pitied than condemned; and in the second place they have a certain passion, a certain warmth, which is so truly human that the virtuous people might take them as an example, and I for my part understand Jesus's words when He said to the superficially civilized, the respectable people of His time, 'The harlots go into the Kingdom of God before you.'"
JLB 388, 9/21/1883: " Women like her really are bad, but first infinitely, I say infinitely, more pitiable than bad, and secondly they have a certain passion, certain warmth which has something so very human that the respectable could learn a lesson, and I for my part understand the words of Jesus, who said to the superficially civilized, the respectable people of His time, 'the harlots go BEFORE you'" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 326, 9/21/1883: "... the only thing I felt in the beginning was, Poor, poor, poor creature, and I still feel it at the end."
JLB 388, 9/21/1883: " Poor, poor, poor creature is all that I felt at the start and I still feel in the end."

Context:
JLB 388, 9/21/1883: "Well, I can tell you that the open air and the life here are really doing me good. Oh if only the poor woman could have had it -- I think of her with such profound sadness -- although my common sense tells me quite clearly that it's impossible now in the circumstances."

Context:
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "I can't hide from you that I'm overcome by a feeling of great anxiety, dejection, a je ne sais quoi of discouragement and even despair, too much to express. And that if I can find no consolation for it, it might all too easily overwhelm me unbearably. ... I'm at a point where I need credit, trust and some warmth, and you see there's no trust in me." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "This was that, rather than separating, I would have risked one more attempt by marrying her and going to live with her in the country."

Context:
BVG 328, 9/26/1883: "But I felt sure that this was the straight way, notwithstanding even temporary financial objections; not only might it have saved her, but it would also have put an end to my own great mental anguish, which has now unfortunately been doubled."
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "But I believed one thing, that this was the right course, even despite the temporary financial drawbacks, and that not only could it have been her salvation but would also have put an end to great inner struggle for me, which has now, unhappily, doubled for me."

At this, Vincent condemned the carpenter as "the blackguard" and a "bastard" (ibid.) and immediately wrote Sien directly, jettisoning the previous plan with a new and contrary argument: "I do not want now or ever to conceal or to have to conceal myself, and I'd rather write to her at her family's address than have even the semblance of hiding" (ibid.; emphasis in original). This, at least, is the story in Vincent's letters. We have no specific basis for challenging it, so suffice it to say that it is not consistent with Vincent's impetuous personality, his obsessive fixation on Sien, his overwhelming guilt about his departure from The Hague, or his long hours of idleness in Drenthe. Given the dire circumstances, it is inconceivable to us that he could have waited a month to write her, regardless of the plans he had laid or of his need to show Theo that he had his feelings for her under control. 

Context:
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "The fate of the woman, moreover, the fate of my sweet, poor little lad and the other child, cut me to the quick."

Context:
BVG 328, 9/26/1883: "Now you can understand that I am anxious about her fate, though I believe if she were simply in need, she would have written; but now there must be something basically wrong."
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "Now you understand that I'm concerned about her fate, although I believe that if she were simply in need she'd have written, but now there must be something wrong behind it" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 388, 9/21/1883: "I've NEVER SAID that he must do something, nor do I now. I count what he did or might do as a favour, and as such something for which I've always thanked him, and for my part have also given him studies, certainly 50 altogether, with the right to swap them later. And all this being so, I certainly don't have to tolerate any insults, and it is a gross insult that I haven't even had word that he received the last packet of studies. Not a syllable." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 325, 9/16/1883: " My money is almost gone, and strictly speaking I had hoped to be able to lay in a small stock of colours and other materials, but well -- we must cut our coat according to our cloth -- though it's a pity there isn't a little more cloth. ... I don't know how I shall manage to get the money changed here."
JLB 387, 9/16/1883: " I'm running out of money again, though, and I had actually hoped to be able to lay in some more paint and some tools. But there -- we have to cut our coat according to our cloth, although it's a great shame that there isn't a little more cloth. ... I don't know what it's like changing money here."

Context:
JLB 387, 9/16/1883: "I hope you'll be able to send something by the 20th -- no later -- because I paid the people for a week as soon as I got here, so that will be up then and I'll have to pay again."

Context:
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "I'm at a point where I need credit, trust and some warmth, and you see there's no trust in me."

Context:
JLB 388, 9/21/1883: "And before I begin on that, I'd like to pay Rappard his money back, although it may be that later I'll perhaps borrow something from him again after I've seen him, and if I know for sure that I can make something specific with it."

Context:
JLB 381, 7/5/1883: "I must do that to revitalize myself. And over there they have nothing in the way of painting equipment." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "What else can I do? -- last year ended with an even bigger deficit than I told you, for I've already paid off more than I mentioned to you, including Rappard, and still however owe Rappard above all, and that worries me the most because he's a friend, and although at this moment I've paid off everything that was in the slightest bit urgent I'm faced with the problem that I still have to pay for other things before the paint that I would otherwise buy, or rather I don't dare take it on credit, which would again cause me a considerable bill in time" (emphasis in original).

In the same letter, Vincent appears to suggest an alternative to merely raising his stipend: that Theo could convince someone in the family -- almost certainly one of their rich uncles -- to supplement Theo's support ("I wish everything would turn out all right, but we need more trust from other people, otherwise I fear it won't work" [ibid.]). This reading would seem to be confirmed in October when, in the throes of persuading Theo to join him in Drenthe, Vincent proposes that Uncle Cor might be persuaded to put up the 4,800-franc "credit" that Vincent has calculated the brothers will need to launch their joint artistic enterprise (JLB 393, 10/7/1883, see Ch. 20, n. 313). In fact, the solution Vincent is pursuing here is the same one he has been pushing since he came to The Hague at the end of 1881 -- financial independence. This becomes clear in the next letter when he writes: "I must have some security before I venture any further" (JLB 391, 9/28/1883). Citing the self-abusive privations of the Borinage ("one doesn't even have a roof over one's head and must tramp on and tramp on like a vagabond") as a cautionary tale, Vincent warns that he would be forced to the same extremes " if I were to venture far without security -- if I weren't to put my affairs in reasonable order -- if, I say, I were to venture far into the countryside without backing. ... EXPERIENCE compels me to ask for a certain unshakeable understanding." (ibid; emphasis in original.) This is exactly the same phrase that he used when the brothers first argued over Theo's support in early January 1882 (JLB 197, 1/5/1882). 

Context:
JLB 391, 9/28/1883: "Before the winter proper (and winter will be here all too soon!! I really don't know how I'll manage) I'd like to be better housed." (Emphasis in original.)

According to testimony cited by Dijk, a peat laborer's family "receives, depending on its size, ƒ 0.50, ƒ 0.75 or ƒ 1.- per week for a longer or shorter time'" (Dijk and Van der Sluis, p. 156). Those rates work out to 2-4 florins a month. A florin equaled approximately 2 francs; thus the monthly wages ranged from 4 to 8 francs a month, depending on the size of the family. This is obviously an extreme example that only underscores the incredible plight (unremarked upon by Vincent) of the peat laborers. A better comparison might be the seven guilders a week that Vincent's landlord, Albertus Hartsuiker in Hoogeveen, was paid for his job at the railroad depot, "working from five in the morning to twelve at night," according to his son, Adrianus Hartsuiker (quoted in Dijk and Van der Sluis, p. 99). That is roughly the equivalent of 50-60 francs a month -- still only slightly more than a third of what Theo was sending Vincent. 

Context:
BVG 328, 9/26/1883: "Because from the very first I have found so much beauty here that, if I could afford it, I would send for my things in The Hague, and I would fit this very same garret up as a studio (by making a little more light) or I would hunt up some other room."
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "Since I can already see straightaway that there's so much beauty here, if I could afford it I would send for my things that are still there in The Hague, and I would either fit up this same attic here as a studio (by letting a bit more light in) or look for another place."

Context:
BVG 325, 9/16/1883: "Personally, I would rather have stayed with the woman, though it would have been doubly difficult; but as far as I could see, it was impossible under the circumstances. And if I constantly imagine her as a phantom, it is not as a reproachful one, but I am melancholy because I did not have the means to act toward her as I should have wished."
JLB 387, 9/16/1883: "As for myself, I would rather have stayed with the woman, although it would have been twice as hard, but as far as I could tell it was impossible in the circumstances. And the way things are, each time I still see her in my imagination as a phantom, it's not as a reproachful one, but I'm only sad that I didn't have the means to behave towards her as I'd have wished."

Context:
BVG 329, 9/28/1883: "Let's make the most of our time, for loss of time is most expensive."
JLB 391, 9/28/1883: "Let's make the most of the time, because wasting time is the most expensive thing of all."

Context:
BVG 328, 9/26/1883: "And so I have decided, for the very reason that I was already in debt, and that the future was dark -- but this decision brings little relief, and does not remove the exhaustion brought about by a year of too many cares, and a bleeding heart and a void and feeling of disappointment and melancholy also remain which are not easily cured."
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "I decided, because I already had debts and the future was dark. But this decision is not yet a renewal, and doesn't take away the exhaustion that a year of too many cares brings in its train, while I'm also left with a wounded heart and a feeling of emptiness and disappointment and melancholy -- not so easy to cure."

Context:
JLB 388, 9/21/1883: "The fact is that I do need money and a stock of paint and various things before I can expect any results from the trip through the south-east corner of Drenthe. But in six months or so I hope I'll have saved enough, and in the meantime I'll still be able to do things here. So for the present I won't go further away for good, but will stay and work in this area."

Context:
BVG 328, 9/26/1883: "And so I have decided, for the very reason that I was already in debt, and that the future was dark -- but this decision brings little relief, and does not remove the exhaustion brought about by a year of too many cares, and a bleeding heart and a void and feeling of disappointment and melancholy also remain which are not easily cured."
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "I decided, because I already had debts and the future was dark. But this decision is not yet a renewal, and doesn't take away the exhaustion that a year of too many cares brings in its train, while I'm also left with a wounded heart and a feeling of emptiness and disappointment and melancholy -- not so easy to cure."

Context:
BVG 326, 9/21/1883: " It would be too reckless to undertake these two excursions if one did so without a stock of materials and without taking the necessary precautions."
JLB 388, 9/21/1883: " It would be too reckless to go on these two trips if one were to undertake them without supplies and without being prepared for the circumstances."

Context:
BVG 328, 9/26/1883: "And so I have decided, for the very reason that I was already in debt, and that the future was dark -- but this decision brings little relief, and does not remove the exhaustion brought about by a year of too many cares, and a bleeding heart and a void and feeling of disappointment and melancholy also remain which are not easily cured."
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "I decided, because I already had debts and the future was dark. But this decision is not yet a renewal, and doesn't take away the exhaustion that a year of too many cares brings in its train, while I'm also left with a wounded heart and a feeling of emptiness and disappointment and melancholy -- not so easy to cure."

Context:
BVG 329, 9/28/1883: " I feel inexpressibly melancholy without my work to distract me, as you will understand, and I must work and work hard, I must forget myself in my work, otherwise it will crush me."
JLB 391, 9/28/1883: "And I'm so unbearably melancholy when the work doesn't provide me with a distraction, as you'll understand, and I must work and work steadily -- FORGETTING MYSELF IN THE WORK, otherwise it would overwhelm me" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 328, 9/26/1883: "And so I have decided, for the very reason that I was already in debt, and that the future was dark -- but this decision brings little relief, and does not remove the exhaustion brought about by a year of too many cares, and a bleeding heart and a void and feeling of disappointment and melancholy also remain which are not easily cured."
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "I decided, because I already had debts and the future was dark. But this decision is not yet a renewal, and doesn't take away the exhaustion that a year of too many cares brings in its train, while I'm also left with a wounded heart and a feeling of emptiness and disappointment and melancholy -- not so easy to cure."

Context:
BVG 329, 9/28/1883: "I did not see any good at the time, nor do I now, in reaching such a point of destitution, in literally having no roof over my head, in having to wander and wander forever like a tramp, without finding either rest or food or covering anywhere -- besides, without any possibility of working."
JLB 391, 9/28/1883: "I take no pleasure in it, I saw no good in it then and see even less now in reaching a point of destitution such that one doesn't even have a roof over one's head and must tramp on and tramp on like a vagabond into infinity without finding either rest or food or shelter anywhere, moreover without the possibility of doing any work."

Context:
JLB 388, 9/21/1883: "I count what he did or might do as a favour, and as such something for which I've always thanked him, and for my part have also given him studies, certainly 50 altogether, with the right to swap them later."

Context:
BVG 325, 9/16/1883: "Well, that is exactly what I do suppose, though I do not doubt that he can be very pleasant, but only when he has his attention fixed on the matter, which is certainly not so in my case, the more so because he seems to have certain unshakable opinions about me which I do not think I must try to change."
JLB 387, 9/16/1883: "Well, I most certainly do presume that, although I don't doubt that he really can be very obliging, at least provided he has gathered his thoughts together, and in my case he has not, all the more so because he appears to have certain fixed opinions about me that I don't believe I may endeavour to dispel" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 326, 9/21/1883: "This being so, I certainly need not put up with insults, and it is a decided insult that he did not acknowledge the receipt of the past packages of studies. Not a syllable."
JLB 388, 9/21/1883: "I certainly don't have to tolerate any insults, and it is a gross insult that I haven't even had word that he received the last packet of studies. Not a syllable." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 326, 9/21/1883: "Then and now I have kept back a lot of things I might have said, but when the time comes for me to attack him, he will feel in his conscience, whatever he may say, that neither in the past nor at present have I ever committed a base action towards him, so that there are no reasonable grounds for this insult of not answering."
JLB 388, 9/21/1883: "Then and now I've kept to myself a good many things that I could have said, and if I ever tackle him about them he'll have to feel a thing or two in his conscience, whatever he may say; how I, neither in the past nor now, have ever committed any base acts against him, so there's no conceivable reason for this insult of his failure to reply."

Context:
BVG 326, 9/21/1883: "But be assured that I shall not mention you, although it is a fact that if he will not undo his insulting you (I have the impression he is inaugurating the same policy toward you), it makes my resolve to have it out with His Honour inexorable, and it is my firm intention to tell him a lot of home truths."
JLB 388, 9/21/1883: "Be assured, though, that I shall NOT mention you, even though his insult to you, if he doesn't set it right (it occurs to me that he's beginning to use something of the same policy towards you) is what's making me resolved to have it out with His Hon., and I've decided to say a great many things to him" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 326, 9/21/1883: "I would certainly not drop the matter in case he should be unwilling to receive me, for I am firmly resolved to get satisfaction."
JLB 388, 9/21/1883: "If he isn't willing to talk to me then, that would by no means finish the matter, because my mind is made up that I shall have satisfaction about it." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 326, 9/21/1883: "And if it should happen that your letter remains unanswered too, then it would be cowardly to let the matter rest, and in that case I shall and must demand an explanation, and, as I said, even if I have to postpone it for some time, I shall do so very resolutely and by means of a personal visit. I would certainly not drop the matter in case he should be unwilling to receive me, for I am firmly resolved to get satisfaction. If he is willing to give it, all right then; but if he should refuse (I did not make use of a single discourteous expression in addressing him, I only wrote in a very cool vein), if he should refuse, then I shall tell him to give me -- and I have a right to tell him so -- an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, and then in my turn I shall insult him without restraint, quite cold-bloodedly."
JLB 388, 9/21/1883: "And should your letter remain unanswered on top of this, it would be cowardice to leave it at that, and I must and shall demand an explanation. Which, as said, I shall most certainly do, and in a personal visit, even though some time may elapse. If he isn't willing to talk to me then, that would by no means finish the matter, because my mind is made up that I shall have satisfaction about it. Should he give it me, well and good, but should he refuse to give it me (I haven't used a single impolite term to him, I've only written in a very cool tone), should, I say, he refuse to give it me, I may say an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and insult him roundly back, which I would do in cold blood." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 326, 9/21/1883: "The principal thing is that he goes too far in losing sight of my rights as a human being. Even if I were a stranger (I never mention our relationship, I never count on that), I could not endure being treated as a reprobate, being judged or accused of things without being heard myself."
JLB 388, 9/21/1883: "No. 1 is that he goes too far in losing sight of the rights that I have as a human being, even were I a stranger to him (I never speak of our relationship, nor rely on it), not to be treated as a bad lot, not to be condemned or accused of this or that without being able to speak up for myself."

Context:
BVG 329, 9/28/1883: "I, who like to have the initiative because sometimes a proof of sincerity is needed ..."
JLB 391, 9/28/1883: "I, who like to take the initiative for acting myself, because a proof of sincerity, a deed proving that one deals in actions not words, is sometimes needed …"

Context:
BVG 329, 9/28/1883: "Experience forces me to demand a definite fixed arrangement."
JLB 391, 9/28/1883: "Experience compels me to ask for a certain unshakeable understanding …"

One of the most curious things about the letters from the second half of September is Vincent's strangely defensive insistence that he "trusts" Theo -- assurances that appear nowhere else in the letters: "I trust and know that you've done right by her" (JLB 387, 9/16/1883); "It's neither distrust nor suspicion of you" (JLB 391, 9/28/1883); "I ASSURE YOU, not in the least because I mistrust you" (ibid.; emphasis in original); "Again, I don't mistrust you in the very, very least" (ibid.). The implication appears to be that Vincent does not trust Theo's promise to do his best to continue his support, and therefore wants something more definite -- more binding. It is possible that Theo has commented on this apparent lack of trust in a letter and Vincent is reassuring his brother to the contrary. But we see yet another sign of Vincent's rational control unraveling. His paranoia whispers that Theo is not to be trusted -- perhaps over Uncle Cor's perfidious silence -- but Vincent's rational mind clearly resists this apocalyptic suspicion. Thus, these insistent assurances sound directed less at Theo than at the voices in Vincent's head. 

Context:
JLB 391, 9/28/1883: "I've never before told you as plainly as this, and if I tell you now it is, I ASSURE YOU, not in the least because I mistrust you, but because since I planned the trip I haven't yet spoken to you as seriously as this about the drawbacks and their relationship to what you might have available or be able to find for it." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 391, 9/28/1883: "Before I start -- it's neither distrust nor suspicion of you but simply a common-sense measure -- before I start -- I say -- (and ask because you wrote to me very recently that you yourself were worried because you feared that there could be trouble and calamities ahead) can you assure me that the usual won't be lacking? ... Experience compels me to ask for a certain unshakeable understanding."

Context:
BVG 329, 9/28/1883: "If I go deeper into the country, I shall be even more handicapped -- and I must be prepared for anything, or, I repeat, it would be sheer madness."
JLB 391, 9/28/1883: " I'll be even more embarrassed deeper in the countryside and must be prepared for everything or, I repeat, it would be madness."

All three of these passages communicate clearly that if Vincent does not have the money and supplies to continue working, idleness will make him even "gloomier" and more "melancholy" -- both code words for mental instability -- and eventually will "overwhelm" him. There is no way to see this as other than a threat -- a threat of both self-destruction and family upheaval. Such a threat would hardly rise above venality if we took Vincent at his word -- i.e., that it was just about extorting money from his brother. In fact, Vincent is pursuing much larger stakes: he wants to extract retribution for Theo's pressing him to abandon Sien, and, of course, paradoxically, he wants proof of Theo's love. 

Context:
BVG 329, 9/28/1883: "If I go deeper into the country, I shall be even more handicapped -- and I must be prepared for anything, or, I repeat, it would be sheer madness."
JLB 391, 9/28/1883: "I'll be even more embarrassed deeper in the countryside and must be prepared for everything or, I repeat, it would be madness."

Context:
JLB 393, 10/7/1883: "You're then beaten, and it's painful to know in advance that one will certainly go through a lot of mistakes before one finds out for oneself, which cause a waste of time and misery that could have been avoided."

Context:
BVG 328, 9/26/1883: "As I feel the need to speak out frankly, I cannot hide from you that I am overcome by a feeling of great anxiety, depression, a je ne sais quoi of discouragement and despair more than I can tell."
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "Because I have a need to speak frankly, I can't hide from you that I'm overcome by a feeling of great anxiety, dejection, a je ne sais quoi of discouragement and even despair, too much to express" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "And that if I can find no consolation for it, it might all too easily overwhelm me unbearably."

Context:
BVG 328, 9/26/1883: "I am at a point where I need some credit, some confidence and warmth, and, look here, I find no confidence."
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "I'm at a point where I need credit, trust and some warmth, and you see there's no trust in me."

Context:
BVG 328, 9/26/1883: "Oh, boy, I am so melancholy -- I am in a splendid country, I want to work, I absolutely need it -- at the same time, I am absolutely at a loss as to how to overcome the difficulties, when I think that all my things are in a most miserable condition, and that I am here without a studio or anything, and shall be handicapped on all sides until I can mend matters. ... What can I do? Will it get better or worse in time? I do not know, but I cannot shake off a feeling of deep melancholy."
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "Oh, old chap, I've become so melancholy -- I'm in magnificent countryside, I have a desire, indeed an absolute need to work -- at the same time I'm absolutely at a loss as to how we're going to get on top of it, when I think that my things are in the most miserable state and I'm here without a studio or anything, and will be embarrassed everywhere until I can improve matters. ... What's to be done? Will things worsen or improve with time? I don't know, but I feel really miserable and can't shake it off."

Context:
BVG 329, 9/28/1883: "And so everything is prose, everything is calculation in regard to a plan for an excursion, which, after all, has poetry for its end."
JLB 391, 9/28/1883: "And so EVERYTHING IS PROSE, EVERYTHING IS CALCULATION in regard to the plan for a trip that after all has poetry as its goal" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 387, 9/16/1883: "That same irritatingly tedious spot -- in the evening as a poor little figure moves through the twilight -- when that vast, sun-scorched earth stands out dark against the delicate lilac tints of the evening sky, and the very last fine dark blue line on the horizon separates earth from sky -- can be as sublime as in a J. Dupré."

Context:
BVG 340, 11/2/1883: "The poor soil of Drenthe is the same, except that the black earth is even blacker -- like soot -- not lilac-black like the furrows, and overgrown in a melancholy way with perpetually rotting heather and peat."
JLB 402, 11/2/1883: "The poor soil of Drenthe is the same, only the black earth is even blacker -- like soot -- not a lilac black like the furrows, and melancholically overgrown with eternally rotting heather and peat."

Context:
JLB 402, 11/2/1883: "That earth brings forth that young wheat -- it's as if that wheat is a growth of mould."

Context:
JLB 387, 9/16/1883: "Yesterday I came across one of the oddest churchyards I've ever seen -- imagine a patch of heath with a hedge of small, closely planted pines around it -- so that one would think that it was an ordinary little pine-wood. However, there's an entrance -- a short avenue and then one comes upon a number of graves overgrown with bent-grass and heather. Many of them marked with white posts bearing the names."

BVG 331, 10/7/1883. A drawing like the one Vincent describes survives: Landscape with Bog-Oak Trunks (F 1095 JH 406, October, 1883, pen, pencil, 12.2 by 14.8 in., 31 by 37.5 cm., Boston, Museum of Fine Arts). 

Context:
JLB 393, 10/7/1883: "Yesterday I drew decaying oak roots, so-called bog trunks (being oak trees that have been buried under the peat for perhaps a century, over which new peat has formed -- when the peat is dug out these bog trunks come to light)."

Context:
JLB 391, 9/28/1883: "The countryside is very beautiful -- today I saw a funeral in a barge, which was very curious -- six women wrapped in cloaks in the vessel that was being towed by the men along the canal in the heath -- the minister -- in tricorne and breeches -- just like a[n Ernest] Meissonier figure -- followed on the other side -- oh, there are all sorts of things."

Context:
BVG 338, 11/11/1883: "Certainly when one's work does not go smoothly and one is checked by difficulties, one gets bogged in the morass of such thoughts and insoluble problems."
JLB 405, 11/11/1883: "Now, if the work doesn't go well or one runs up against a lack of knowledge, one becomes bogged down in such thoughts and insoluble questions."

Context:
BVG 331, 10/6/1883-10/7/1883: "One is absolutely beaten then, and it is so painful to know in advance that one is sure to make a number of mistakes before finding out for oneself; all such losses of time and misery are expenditures which might have been avoided."
JLB 393, 10/7/1883: "You're then beaten, and it's painful to know in advance that one will certainly go through a lot of mistakes before one finds out for oneself, which cause a waste of time and misery that could have been avoided."

Context:
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "The fate of the woman, moreover, the fate of my sweet, poor little lad and the other child, cut me to the quick. I'd still like to help and I can't. I'm at a point where I need credit, trust and some warmth, and you see there's no trust in me. You're an exception to this, but precisely because everything falls on you it makes it even more apparent how dismal everything is in my case."

Context:
JLB 391, 9/28/1883: "You know yourself a little of how I fared in the Borinage. Well I'm already all too anxious that exactly the same thing could happen to me here."

Context:
BVG 329, 9/28/1883: "I am thinking of pushing on farther into the country, notwithstanding the bad season, not doubting that wherever I go, I shall find at least just as good an opportunity to work as here, and I hope even more space, etc."
JLB 391, 9/28/1883: "I'm thinking of continuing my journey deeper into the countryside despite the season, not doubting that everywhere (or where I'll go, at any rate) I'll find at least as good an opportunity to work as here, and even better space &c."

Context:
BVG 329, 9/28/1883: "Before the real winter comes (and it will be there at all too soon!! I really do not see how to manage), I should like to try to get some better quarters -- even farther out on the heath."
JLB 391, 9/28/1883: "Before the winter proper (and winter will be here all too soon!! I really don't know how I'll manage) I'd like to be better housed -- find quarters somewhere -- even further into the heath." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 328, 9/26/1883: "As long as the weather was fine I did not mind the troubles because I saw so many beautiful things; but now that it has been pouring incessantly these last days, I see more clearly how I have got stuck here, and how handicapped I am."
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "As long as the weather was good I wasn't aware of things because I saw so much that was beautiful, but now that it's been pouring with rain incessantly for several days I increasingly see how I'm actually stuck here, and I'm embarrassed."

Context:
JLB 389, 9/24/1883: "Write again soon, won't you -- I'm longing to hear, for despite all the beauty outside I still feel dejected."

Context:
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "You're an exception to this, but precisely because everything falls on you it makes it even more apparent how dismal everything is in my case."

Context:
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "As long as the weather was good I wasn't aware of things because I saw so much that was beautiful, but now that it's been pouring with rain incessantly for several days I increasingly see how I'm actually stuck here, and I'm embarrassed."

       The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;
       It rains, and the wind is never weary;
       The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
       But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
       And the day is dark and dreary.

Context:
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "In every life some rain must fall / And days be dark and dreary" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 328, 9/26/1883: "It is true and it cannot be otherwise, but the question is, isn't the number of dark and dreary days sometimes too great?"
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "... that is true, it cannot be otherwise, yet I wonder if the number of dark and dreary days can't sometimes get too great?"

Context:
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "We're having gloomy, rainy days here, and when I come into the corner of the attic where I've installed myself it's all remarkably melancholy there -- with the light from one single glass roof tile that falls on an empty painting box, on a bundle of brushes with few decent bristles remaining, well it's so curiously melancholy that luckily it also has a funny enough side not to weep over it but to regard it more cheerfully."

Context:
BVG 328, 9/26/1883: "We have gloomy rainy days here, and when I come to the corner of the garret where I have settled down, it is curiously melancholy there; through one single glass pane the light falls on an empty colour box, on a bundle of worn-out brushes; in short, it is so curiously melancholy that fortunately it also has a comical aspect, enough not to make one weep over it, but to take it gaily."
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "We're having gloomy, rainy days here, and when I come into the corner of the attic where I've installed myself it's all remarkably melancholy there -- with the light from one single glass roof tile that falls on an empty painting box, on a bundle of brushes with few decent bristles remaining, well it's so curiously melancholy that luckily it also has a funny enough side not to weep over it but to regard it more cheerfully" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 328, 9/26/1883: "And if I look at my equipment, everything is too miserable, too insufficient, too dilapidated."
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "And if I look at my things, they're too poor, too inadequate, too much exhausted."

Context:
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "We're having gloomy, rainy days here, and when I come into the corner of the attic where I've installed myself it's all remarkably melancholy there -- with the light from one single glass roof tile that falls on an empty painting box, on a bundle of brushes with few decent bristles remaining, well it's so curiously melancholy that luckily it also has a funny enough side not to weep over it but to regard it more cheerfully. But even so, it's in a very strange relationship to my plans -- in a very strange relationship to the seriousness of the work, and -- this is where the laughing stops."

Context:
BVG 328, 9/26/1883: "You are an exception, but it makes me feel even more how hopeless everything is just because you have to bear the brunt of it all."
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "You're an exception to this, but precisely because everything falls on you it makes it even more apparent how dismal everything is in my case."

Context:
BVG 328, 9/26/1883: "And besides, these last few days I have been overwhelmed by forebodings about the future ..."
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "And over and above all this, I've been overwhelmed these past few days by sombre feelings about the future ... "

Context:
BVG 328, 9/26/1883: "And this letter is a cry for more breath, and if this winter is the way it has been these last days, I should be badly off."
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "And this letter is a sigh for space, and if the winter has to be like these days, I would be in a bad way."

Context:
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "I wish that for once I could do this really thoroughly, and if I could find someone who would trust me that far, my greatest concerns would be allayed. But either everything falls on you or I find no one who trusts me, this is the circle in which my thoughts revolve, and I see no way out."

Context:
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "Now you understand that I'm concerned about [Sien's] fate, although I believe that if she were simply in need she'd have written, but now there must be something wrong behind it. You will understand my feeling about it ... But I'll say that I haven't yet got so far that I can resign myself to the idea of separation, at present I'm still very, very concerned about her fate, precisely because she's leaving me in the dark about it." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 328, 9/26/1883: "I do not think lightly of your faithful help, on the contrary, but I cannot help asking myself if I must not tell you, ' Leave me to my fate, there is no help for it; it is too much for one person, and there is no chance of getting help from any other side. Isn't that proof enough that we must give it up?'"
JLB 390, 9/26/1883: "I don't regard your trust in me lightly, on the contrary, but I rather wonder whether I shouldn't say to you, forget about me for we won't get there -- it's too much for one, and there's no chance of getting any relief from another quarter -- is this not proof enough that we should give up?"

Context:
BVG 339, 10/15/1883: " So, boy, do come and paint with me on the heath, in the potato field, come and walk with me behind the plough and the shepherd -- come and sit with me, looking into the fire -- let the storm that blows across the heath blow through you."
JLB 396, 10/15/1883: " Come on, old chap, come and paint with me on the heath, in the potato field, come and walk with me behind the plough and the shepherd -- come and stare into the fire with me -- just let the storm that blows across the heath blow through you."

Context:
BVG 339, 10/15/1883: "So, boy, do come and paint with me on the heath, in the potato field, come and walk with me behind the plough and the shepherd -- come and sit with me, looking into the fire -- let the storm that blows across the heath blow through you."
JLB 396, 10/15/1883: "Come on, old chap, come and paint with me on the heath, in the potato field, come and walk with me behind the plough and the shepherd -- come and stare into the fire with me -- just let the storm that blows across the heath blow through you."

Context:
BVG 333, 10/16/1883: "But, when I cannot help imagining the future I should no longer be alone, but you and I, painters, working together as comrades here in this moorland."
JLB 397, 10/16/1883: "But I can't help envisaging the future as consisting not of me alone but of you and me as painters, and working together as comrades here in this peat country."

Vincent's faith in the power of these schemes (and his tendency to escape into them) only strengthens as each in turn fails. This increasingly desperate clinging to "rational" solutions (he spends more and more time thinking through the details of each scheme) may be a sign of his slipping grasp on mental stability. It is interesting to note that, in a letter from his sister Elisabeth to Theo from 1875, the same expression appears, suggesting a common parental root. Describing her ambition to be more than a teacher, she writes, "Some say that it is a good life, for you live for teaching and correcting others. However, I feel that I could never correct others, because I always have to be myself. These are still castles in the air, but I would like to do something other than teaching grammar and mathematics." (b2330 V/1982, "Gogh, Elisabeth van" to "Gogh, Theo van", 4/11/1875.) 

Context:
BVG 199, 5/16/1882: "The baby's clothes are also ready, of course the very simplest. I am not living in a castle in the air or in a dream, but in plain reality, where one must act with firmness."
JLB 229, 5/18/1882: "The linen for the child is ready too -- the essentials. I am faced here not by an illusion or abstraction but by reality, which requires firm action."

As part of this campaign, Vincent developed an elaborate argument that Theo, not Vincent, was the true landscape painter in the Van Gogh family. In a long postscript, he wrote: "Listen Theo, wouldn't you like to ponder whether there's not a great landscapist in you?" (JLB 211, 3/11/1882). In his next letter, he returned to the subject more forcefully: "I thought it might possibly have seemed strange to you to find in my last letter a remark about something I'd never discussed with you before, a remark, moreover, in a rather peremptory tone, namely something like: Theo, let it all go hang and become a painter. There's a great landscapist in you." (JLB 212, 3/16/1882-3/20/1882.) This arguments served a double purpose: it also deflected Theo's pressure for Vincent to do landscapes instead of his beloved figures (see Chapter 18): "Theo, I'm certainly no landscape painter, if I were to make landscapes there would always be something of the figure about them. I think it very good, though, that there are also people who are essentially landscapists. And it preoccupies me greatly that you might be just such a person -- without knowing it. The opposite preoccupies me just as much. Namely, Theo, are you in fact essentially a dealer?" (JLB 212, 3/16/1882-3/20/1882.)

Sometime around the fourth (JLB 214, 4/2/1882) or fifth (JLB 215, 4/6/1882) letter in this campaign, a response from Theo calmly making the rational arguments against Vincent's proposal swept Vincent to even more hyperventilating advocacy. Claiming that his previous arguments had not done justice to his cause ("what I had written wasn't quite right, and I couldn't find words strong enough"), Vincent enlisted an entirely new set of arguments: (1) "By your 30th year you could have progressed to the extent that people must respect you as a painter and take your work seriously. And in your 30th year you'll still be young." (JLB 214, 4/2/1882); (2) "What you've learned at Goupil, your knowledge of many things, means that you have exactly what it takes to catch up with many who 'started early'. Because those early starters often have a period of staying at the same level fruitlessly for years, and that period isn't necessary for someone who starts energetically at a later age." (ibid.; emphasis in original); (3) "You'll see immediately that you're in your element and then -- then -- you'll be younger and more full of life than ever before, then your second youth will begin, which is better than the first ..." (ibid.); (4) "But it's precisely those people who have the intellect and intelligence, and it goes without saying that I count you among them and I'd like to count myself among them too, it's fitting that they're eminently suited to handiwork" (ibid.); (5) "It's as though one were young again" (JLB 215, 4/6/1882); (6) "It's a wonderful thing to look at something and find it beautiful, to reflect on it and hold it fast and then to say: I'm going to draw that, and then to work on it until it's done" (ibid.); (7) "I know for certain that something would awaken in you in your own studio which you don't know of now -- a huge, hidden force of working and creating" (ibid.). Many of these arguments resurfaced in the campaign from Drenthe the following year.

At Christmastime in 1882, unwelcome in his own family and isolated in the facsimile on the Schenkweg, Vincent renewed the plea yet again: "you are after all one of those on watch, not one of the sleepers," he wrote Theo. "Would you not rather keep watch while painting than while selling paintings?" (JLB 288, 11/26/1882-11/27/1882.) Then he added disingenuously: "I say this coolly, not even adding: this or that would be preferable in my view, and trusting to your own insight into things." Theo responded immediately with a jesting argument that if he were to become a painter, he would only be a mediocre one. Inflamed, no doubt, by the implication (probably not consciously intended) that he, Vincent, was a mediocre artist, Vincent wrote back in an agitated tone: "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." (JLB 291, 12/4/1882-12/9/1882.) That this exchange took place on the eve of St. Nicholas Day is probably significant, as it was the time of Vincent's most urgent family feeling, when his need to imagine a unfulfilled solidarity with Theo was at its most intense. Surely some of the same seasonal needs and vulnerabilities contributed to the events of December 1888. (See Chapter 36.)

There is an interesting parallel between this assault of persuasion and the one that starts eighteen months later in October 1883. In both cases, the campaign is announced with a single, seemingly offhand mention, only to be followed by a storm of argument in subsequent letters. The 1882 campaign continues through a third (JLB 213, 3/24/1882), fourth (JLB 214, 4/2/1882), and fifth (JLB 215, 4/6/1882) letter. Despite this deluge of argument, and despite other scattered mentions in the two years between 1881 and 1883 cited in the text, Hulsker and many others try to minimize the antecedents for Vincent's obsessive drive to bring Theo to Drenthe: "This was not a completely new thought; when he was still in The Hague he had once suggested it" (Hulsker, Vincent and Theo, p. 165). We suspect that the tendency to ignore these prior expressions or minimize them (see also Nagera, p. 89) represents a reluctance to confront the absolute irrationality of the Drenthe campaign. (Hulsker writes that "Vincent's proposed solution to Theo's problems, which at first seems utterly foolish, becomes somewhat more understandable" [Hulsker, Vincent and Theo, p. 165].) The fact that Vincent had not only raised this proposal often, but also argued it in great detail -- and been repeatedly rebuffed -- does tend to make the Drenthe arguments look less like a lonely man's desperate, last-ditch pleas, and more like the dissociated rantings of a madman. (696; 697) 204. "move to the country" BVG 302, 7/22/1883. 

Context:
BVG 302, 7/22/1883: "I only wish you were here, that we might again talk together about moving to the country."
JLB 364, 7/22/1883: "I wish you were here and we could confer again about a move to the country."

Context:
BVG 347, 12/18/1883: "The other says, 'I am getting [less and less] like Father -- I am turning into a dog, I feel that the future will probably make me uglier and rougher still and I foresee 'a degree of poverty' as my lot -- but, but, man or dog, I shall be a painter, in short a creature with feeling.'"
JLB 413, 12/15/1883: "The other says -- 'I'm becoming less and less like Pa -- I'm becoming a dog, I feel that the future will probably make me uglier and rougher, and I see 'a certain poverty' as my lot -- but -- but -- I will be a painter and, man or dog, in short a being with feeling'" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 394, 10/12/1883: "Perhaps a year ago that you would certainly not become a painter, would certainly stay in your present profession."

Context:
JLB 408, 12/1/1883: "And you said, 'sometimes I think I should just disappear' -- and you said -- there were things about the idea of painting to which you were at least not averse."

Context:
JLB 408, 12/1/1883: "There was a moment when you were very melancholy, and you wrote me the following: the gentlemen are making it almost impossible for me, and I actually believe that they would rather dismiss me than that I should resign" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 394, 10/12/1883: "It's that you and I have in common a time of quietly drawing impossible windmills &c., where the drawings are in a singular rapport with the storm of thoughts and aspirations -- "

Context:
BVG 325, 9/16/1883: "The other day I saw the large engraving after Herkomer's 'The Last Muster.' I suppose you have seen it too -- what a manly thing!"
JLB 387, 9/16/1883: "I recently saw the large engraving after Herkomer, The last muster -- you must have seen it too -- what virility!"

Context:
BVG 335, 10/22/1883: "I think one feels more a man among other men as a painter, than in a life which is founded on speculation, and in which one has to heed conventions."
JLB 398, 10/22/1883: "As a painter, one feels one is a human being among other human beings, it seems to me -- more so than when one is living a life that's founded more on speculation, and where one has to be mindful of the conventions."

Context:
BVG 184, 4/1/1882-4/15/1882: "At all events an artist is the exact opposite of a man who lives on his income, and I repeat, if one wants to make a comparison, there is more similarity between an artist and either a blacksmith or a physician."
JLB 214, 4/2/1882: "Painting is just as good a profession by which to earn a living as, for example, smith or doctor. An artist, in any case, is the exact opposite of someone living a life of leisure, and as I said, if one wants to draw a parallel, then either a smith or a doctor corresponds more closely."

Context:
BVG 335, 10/22/1883: "I think one feels more a man among other men as a painter, than in a life which is founded on speculation, and in which one has to heed conventions."
JLB 398, 10/22/1883: " As a painter, one feels one is a human being among other human beings, it seems to me -- more so than when one is living a life that's founded more on speculation, and where one has to be mindful of the conventions."

Context:
BVG 342, 11/26/1883: "If it is possible, reassure me -- as for the calamities, I am not particularly afraid of them -- in general one should be afraid of nothing except of deteriorating as a man."
JLB 407, 11/26/1883: "Reassure me if you can -- as for disasters, that's not what I'm so terribly afraid of -- on the whole one shouldn't fear anything other than becoming worse."

Context:
BVG 336, 10/28/1883: "We shall do nothing we need be ashamed of; with what Carlyle [Thomas Carlyle, 1795-1881; English writer and philosopher] calls 'quite a royal feeling,' we shall be able to roam about in nature freely, and to work -- we shall be able to work, because we are honest.
JLB 400, 10/28/1883: "We do nothing of which we have to be ashamed. We can openly stroll about the countryside and work, with what Carlyle calls quite a royal feeling. We can work because we're honest."

Context:
JLB 400, 10/28/1883: "Zola says -- I, an artist, I want to live life to the full -- want to live without ulterior motive -- naive as a child, no not as a child, as an artist -- with good will, just as life unfolds, so I'll find something in it, so I'll do my best in it" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 339, 10/15/1883: "It would be hard work, but by the pleasure of being together, by living together in that unutterably beautiful scenery, and especially the consciousness of being two craftsmen, boy, how delightful it would be."
JLB 396, 10/15/1883: "We'd have a hard struggle, but the pleasure of being together, living together in this inexpressibly beautiful nature, above all the consciousness of being two craftsmen, old chap, how almighty pleasant it would be." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 214, 4/2/1882: "Painting is just as good a profession by which to earn a living as, for example, smith or doctor. An artist, in any case, is the exact opposite of someone living a life of leisure, and as I said, if one wants to draw a parallel, then either a smith or a doctor corresponds more closely."

Context:
BVG 184, 4/1/1882-4/15/1882: "But so that you won't suspect me of overlooking the financial end, I should like to say -- though with all respect for your present position as a dealer -- unless one has a real handicraft and can make something with one's own hands, I doubt the soundness of the position."
JLB 214, 4/2/1882: "Nevertheless, so that you won't suspect me of overlooking the financial side, I'd just like to say -- yet with all due respect for your present position as an art dealer: unless one has a certain handicraft and can make something with his own hands, I doubt the soundness of the means of subsistence."

Context:
JLB 401, 10/31/1883: "Well, old chap, for me painting is too logical, too reasonable, too straightforward for me to make a change. Well, you yourself helped me carry through the idea of a craft; I know that basically it's your own idea too, and so it seems to me that we should go on to work together."

Context:
JLB 393, 10/7/1883: "Furthermore, if you have personal energy, don't wear it out, don't let it get rusty, if things get miserable and one can't count on anything, look for something simpler."

Context:
BVG 331, 10/7/1883: "For the very reason that I owe my having been able to work on till now to you, I want to tell you that I do not doubt for a moment that you would consider it a delightful thing to have a handicraft; and though at first it might bring you into the most impossible and queer relations with your real position as far as life in general is concerned, the glimpse of the future would give you a 'qu'est-ce que ça me fait' -- a future which, though it does not entirely depend on personal activity, nevertheless has a more direct connection with it than trade, which is no handicraft."
JLB 393, 10/7/1883: "Precisely because I have you to thank that I've been able to carry on thus far, I wanted to say to you that I don't doubt for a moment that you would regard it as something wonderful if you had work for your hands, and even if initially it were to bring about the most impossible and conflicting relationships in your actual position in regard to life in general, nevertheless you would have a sense of 'what does it matter to me' to counter this, because of that view of the future. A future which, although it doesn't depend entirely on making personal effort, would be more directly connected with it than things which aren't manual work."

Context:
BVG 331, 10/7/1883: "For the very reason that I owe my having been able to work on till now to you, I want to tell you that I do not doubt for a moment that you would consider it a delightful thing to have a handicraft; and though at first it might bring you into the most impossible and queer relations with your real position as far as life in general is concerned, the glimpse of the future would give you a 'qu'est-ce que ça me fait' -- a future which, though it does not entirely depend on personal activity, nevertheless has a more direct connection with it than trade, which is no handicraft."
JLB 393, 10/7/1883: "Precisely because I have you to thank that I've been able to carry on thus far, I wanted to say to you that I don't doubt for a moment that you would regard it as something wonderful if you had work for your hands, and even if initially it were to bring about the most impossible and conflicting relationships in your actual position in regard to life in general, nevertheless you would have a sense of 'what does it matter to me' to counter this, because of that view of the future. A future which, although it doesn't depend entirely on making personal effort, would be more directly connected with it than things which aren't manual work."

As for the image of a small boat on the wide, treacherous ocean: not since the Richmond sermon has Vincent used this metaphor more extendedly or more incoherently: "If, on the contrary, you now persevere even more, seek your own diligence, your own craft even more and say, I won't hesitate, I'll risk it, I'll push off from the shore into the open sea, you'll get a certain sombre seriousness straightaway -- something mightily serious rises up from inside -- one looks at the calm shore, very well, it's very pleasant -- but the secret of the deep, the intimate, serious charm of the Ocean, of the artist's life -- with the Something on high above it -- has taken hold of you. ... You personally are what the little boat is in a seascape by Jules Dupré. You are smaller but you are bigger -- you're an artist and you can do nothing -- sure enough, your act of submission has already changed you -- your own impotence or power is irrelevant here." (JLB 396, 10/15/1883; emphasis in original.)

Two weeks later, Vincent takes up the metaphor yet again, only adding to the muddle: "but nevertheless something called conscience is a sort of compass for man to distinguish between this direction and that -- between north and south, between right and left -- broadly. Consequently, in spite of chance currents, in spite of deceptively friendly-looking coasts, to say, yes, but fundamentally this isn't the right direction. And there you have it, earning money in Paris, even for other people, particularly given your recent experiences, seems to me to be a deceptive fata Morgana, a coast that would recede further and further away the more you continued to try to land there, meanwhile carrying you further and further away from your proper direction." (JLB 401, 10/31/1883; emphasis in original.) A few sentences later, he concludes confusingly: "I just point out to you very, very seriously and decidedly that it seems to me to be a fact that you're standing at a fork in the road" (ibid; emphasis in original). 

Context: JLB 401, 10/31/1883: “Our goal, first and foremost, is to reform ourselves through craft and contact with nature, believing that it's our duty first and foremost, precisely so that we can remain straight with other people, and consistent. Our goal is 'walking with God' -- as against living amid the affairs of the big cities.” (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 339a, 11/5/1883: "Be a peasant -- be, if it could be considered possible nowadays, a village clergyman or a schoolmaster -- be -- and in my opinion this ought to be thought of first, the present times being what they are -- be a painter, and as a human being, after a number of years of living in the country and of having a handicraft, as a human being you will in the course of these years gradually become something better and deeper in the end."
JLB 403, 11/5/1883: "Be a peasant -- be, if that were fitting at the present time, a village clergyman or schoolmaster -- be, and given the present time that's the form that seems to me to be the most fitting, be a Painter -- and in so doing as a person you will, after that spell of years of outdoor life and manual work, as a person you will, in the end and in the passage of years, gradually become something better and deeper" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 336, 10/28/1883: "Think these things over, write me about them. It must be ' une révolution qui est, puisqu'il faut qu'elle soit' [a revolution that is, because it must be]."
JLB 400, 10/28/1883: "Think about these things, write about these things. It must be a revolution that is, because it's necessary that it should be -- the most self-evident thing in the world for you and for me, so I write about it calmly and I have no doubt you'll also think about it calmly."

Context:
JLB 405, 11/11/1883: "When I look at our temperament and type of physiognomy, I find rapports and very pronounced similarities between, for example, the Puritans and ourselves. ... I recognize a figure of one of those Puritans in Boughton's paintings, and if I didn't know better I would believe that you had posed for it. The physiognomy above all, exact, exact -- a little silhouette on a rock against a background of sea and mist." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 405, 11/11/1883: "When I look at our temperament and type of physiognomy, I find rapports and very pronounced similarities between, for example, the Puritans and ourselves."

Context:
BVG 338, 11/11/1883: "It is exactly, exactly the same physiognomy -- a small silhouette on a rock against a background of sea and fog; I can show you myself also, that is to say, that variation of the same physiognomy, but my profile is less characteristic."
JLB 405, 11/11/1883: "The physiognomy above all, exact, exact -- a little silhouette on a rock against a background of sea and mist -- if need be I can also show you myself, i.e. that variation of the same physiognomy, but my profile is less characteristic" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 338, 11/11/1883: "If I mention The Pilgrim Fathers, it is because of the physiognomy, to show you that certain reddish-haired people with square foreheads are neither only thinkers nor only men of action, but usually combine both elements."
JLB 405, 11/11/1883: "When I speak of the Pilgrim Fathers it's for reasons of physiognomy, to point out to you that certain red-headed folk with square foreheads aren't thinkers alone nor men of action alone, but usually have both elements combined."

Context:
BVG 338, 11/11/1883: "If I mention The Pilgrim Fathers, it is because of the physiognomy, to show you that certain reddish-haired people with square foreheads are neither only thinkers nor only men of action, but usually combine both elements."
JLB 405, 11/11/1883: "When I speak of the Pilgrim Fathers it's for reasons of physiognomy, to point out to you that certain red-headed folk with square foreheads aren't thinkers alone nor men of action alone, but usually have both elements combined."

The problem with judicious equivocation, from Vincent's point of view, is that it permits Theo to endlessly contemplate becoming a painter, instead of acting immediately, as Vincent so desperately wants him to do. Yet he does not want to surrender to the view, presumably suggested by Theo, that Vincent is the man of action and, in contrast, Theo is the man of contemplation. To accept that contrast would be to undermine Vincent's ultimate goal of establishing their joint identity. Vincent resolves this dilemma with a messy syllogism. After protesting that he, too, would do more contemplating if it were not for the "prejudice that someone who has a need to think things through is not practical and only belongs among the dreamers," he arrives at his resolution: thinking does not preclude acting (ibid.; emphasis in original). "I say that I have nothing against thinking about it, though, provided I may also draw and paint" (ibid.). This, of course, is the approach that he urges on Theo: Act first, then think. "I wish that painting became such a fixed idea with you that the question, am I an artist or am I not an artist, was somewhat consigned to the realm of abstractions, and that more practical questions concerning putting a figure or a landscape together would come to the fore, being more enjoyable" (ibid.). 

Context:
BVG 338, 11/11/1883: "If I mention The Pilgrim Fathers, it is because of the physiognomy, to show you that certain reddish-haired people with square foreheads are neither only thinkers nor only men of action, but usually combine both elements."
JLB 405, 11/11/1883: "When I speak of the Pilgrim Fathers it's for reasons of physiognomy, to point out to you that certain red-headed folk with square foreheads aren't thinkers alone nor men of action alone, but usually have both elements combined."

Context:
BVG 338, 11/11/1883: "When I consider our temperament and type of physiognomy, I find similarity, and a very pronounced resemblance between, for instance, the Puritans and ourselves besides. I mean the people in Cromwell's time or thereabouts, the little group of men and women who sailed from the Old World to America in the Mayflower, and settled there, firmly resolved to live simple lives."
JLB 405, 11/11/1883: "When I look at our temperament and type of physiognomy, I find rapports and very pronounced similarities between, for example, the Puritans and ourselves. … the folk from around Cromwell's time, a small band of men and women who sailed out to America in the Mayflower, away from an old world, and settled there, determined to live in simplicity."

Context:
BVG 338, 11/11/1883: "I know that the initiative taken by a small group, called in history The Pilgrim Fathers, however small in itself, had great consequences; and as to ourselves, I think that in the first place we should philosophize but little about great consequences, and only try to find a path for ourselves to travel through life as straightforwardly as possible. "
JLB 405, 11/11/1883: "I know that the initiative taken by a small band, known to history as the Pilgrim Fathers, however small in itself, had great consequences. And for ourselves I'd think in the first place that we shouldn't really philosophize about great consequences, should seek nothing but a path for ourselves so that we can travel through life as straight as possible."

       "America" was the magic word
       heard so often in a sweet dream
       And finally the mouth repeated dancing:
       "Happiness grows elsewhere,
       it is called America."

The group of emigrants who are filled with these eager expectations of a new life beyond the ocean will be fatally disappointed, according to Andersen, for:

       Death is peeking from America's trees.
       The kiss that meets you with the air
       makes the fever rush through the blood
       with flames that you extinguish with your life! ...
       Pray, religious people, pray for those who
       travel to their grave on the other side
       of the ocean.

If Vincent subscribed to this morbidly skeptical view of America's allure, it is not apparent elsewhere in his letters. In 1882, in a letter to Van Rappard, he defended America -- in particular, American magazines -- from Herkomer's charges, citing his hero Charles (John Huffam) Dickens (1812-1870; English writer): "the criticism of [William St John] Harper, and the Americans, reminds me of Chas Dickens. He spoke out against them, see [Martin] Chuzzlewit &c., and later, seeing that people drew the wrong conclusions from his words, such as that nothing good could come out of America, he added a preface to the later editions of Chuzzlewit in which he described his other impressions of America and his experiences on his second journey to America" (JLB 279, 11/1/1882).

During his mania for illustrated magazines while in The Hague, Vincent followed the American magazines closely and referred to them in glowing terms, often citing scenes of Americana as particular favorites: "I come back to Boyd Houghton again -- a Shaker or Mormon church, unbelievably real" (JLB 303, 1/20/1883); "[Houghton] went to America and I know, among other things, drawings of Shakers by him, and a Mormon church, and Indian women &c. ... In a barricade scene, for example, he can have something ghostly, or rather something mysterious like Goya. He also treated the American subjects in that way, namely Goya-like, but then sometimes all at once something runs underneath that recalls [Charles] Meryon because of its extraordinary austerity" (JLB 305, 1/27/1883; emphasis in original); "One print that particularly struck me is [Edwin Austin] Abbey, Xmas in old Virginia engraved by [Joseph] Swain ... There are many fine ones by Boyd Houghton, most of them smaller compositions from America" (JLB 304, 1/25/1883).

Vincent appears to have done some characteristic biographical digging on Abbey: "Have you ever seen anything by an American named Abbey?" he asked Theo in late March 1883 (JLB 333, 3/29/1883 and 4/1/1883; emphasis in original). "In New York at the moment there's a club of draughtsmen who call themselves The Tile Club or The tile painters and some of whose drawings I've seen, in a Xmas number of illustrations from Harper's among other places. ... In my view Abbey is by far the cleverest." (JLB 333, 3/29/1883 and 4/1/1883.) Vincent apparently also knew America from the works of Karl Bodmer, a friend of Millet, who was best known for his paintings of the American West and its indigenous tribes (Bodmer had traveled as far as Wyoming as early as the 1830s) (JLB 507, 6/9/1885). After Theo reveals that he is considering going there, however, Vincent no longer has anything good to say about America or the art trade there. He tells Theo "you'll waste time" there, and that anything he might undertake there "will be a failure" (JLB 404, 11/8/1883). 

Context:
JLB 394, 10/12/1883: "Making yourself scarce is nothing but sheer nerves."

Context:
BVG 330, 10/3/1883: "But at times -- like those moments when you think of going to America -- I think of enlisting for the East Indies; but those are miserable, gloomy moments, when one is overwhelmed by things, and I could wish you might see those silent moors, which I see here from the window, for such a thing calms one down, and inspires one to more faith, resignation, steady work."
JLB 392, 10/3/1883: "But at times -- like those moments when you think about going to America -- I think about going to the East as a volunteer. But they're those wretched, sombre moments when things overwhelm one, and I would wish that you might see the silent heath that I see through the window here, because such a thing soothes one and inspires more faith, resignation, calm work."

Context:
BVG 337, 10/31/1883: "I too have my moments of deep melancholy, but I say again, both you and I ought to regard the idea of disappearing or making oneself scarce as becoming neither you nor me."
JLB 401, 10/31/1883: "I myself also have my moments of great melancholy, but the thought: disappear, make yourself scarce, must, I repeat, be regarded by me and by you as not befitting us."

Context:
BVG 337, 10/31/1883: " Look here -- as regards now or never -- making oneself scarce or disappearing, neither you nor I should ever do that, no more than commit suicide."
JLB 401, 10/31/1883: " Look here -- about now or ever -- making yourself scarce or disappearing -- neither you nor I must ever do that, any more than a suicide" (emphasis in original).

In Drenthe, this same contest plays out in an interesting way. Not only does Vincent threaten to go to the East Indies if Theo goes to America, he almost simultaneously threatens to go home for the same reason: "In the meantime, let me know if I should go home for a while so that you have your hands free. And again, Pa, Ma, Wil, Marie, I, in a word all of us, think much more of you yourself than of your money." (JLB 394, 10/12/1883; emphasis in original.) The ostensibly generous rationale for this offer is to relieve Theo of the expense of supporting Vincent and to express solidarity with Theo's other beneficiaries that Theo's happiness is more important than his money. The subtextual threat, however, is that Vincent will return to Nuenen and reclaim his birthright if Theo leaves. This, of course, is almost exactly what happens. Theo ultimately rejects Vincent's pleas to come to Drenthe and Vincent retaliates by going the one place Theo has told him not to go -- home. 

Context:
BVG 330, 10/3/1883: "But at times -- like those moments when you think of going to America -- I think of enlisting for the East Indies ..."
JLB 392, 10/3/1883: "But at times -- like those moments when you think about going to America -- I think about going to the East as a volunteer."

Context:
BVG 331, 10/6/1883-10/7/1883: "I think I have found my little kingdom, you know."
JLB 393, 10/7/1883: "I believe I've found my country, you know."

Context:
BVG 331, 10/7/1883: "Here it is so absolutely and entirely what I think beautiful, that means there is peace here."
JLB 393, 10/7/1883: " What I find beautiful is everywhere here. That's to say, there is peace here." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 339, 10/15/1883: " The heath speaks to you; you listen to this still voice of nature, and at times nature will seem a little bit less hostile, until at last you are her friend. Then your work too will be beautiful and calm."
JLB 396, 10/15/1883: " The heath speaks to you, you listen to that still voice of nature, and nature sometimes becomes a little less hostile; ultimately you are her friend. Then your work is beautiful and calm too."

Context:
JLB 402, 11/2/1883: "That return of the flock in the dusk was the finale of the symphony that I heard yesterday."

Context:
BVG 340, 11/2/1883: "The day passed like a dream, I had been so immersed in that heart-rending music all day that I had literally forgotten to eat and drink -- I had had a slice of black bread and a cup of coffee in the little inn where I had drawn the spinning wheel."
JLB 402, 11/2/1883: "That day passed like a dream, I had been so immersed in that heart-rending music all day that I had literally forgotten even to eat and drink -- I took a slice of coarse peasant bread and a cup of coffee at the little inn where I drew the spinning wheel."

Context:
BVG 340, 11/2/1883: "The day passed like a dream, I had been so immersed in that heart-rending music all day that I had literally forgotten to eat and drink -- I had had a slice of black bread and a cup of coffee in the little inn where I had drawn the spinning wheel."
JLB 402, 11/2/1883: "That day passed like a dream, I had been so immersed in that heart-rending music all day that I had literally forgotten even to eat and drink -- I took a slice of coarse peasant bread and a cup of coffee at the little inn where I drew the spinning wheel."

Context:
BVG 339, 10/15/1883: "It would be hard work, but by the pleasure of being together, by living together in that unutterably beautiful scenery ..."
JLB 396, 10/15/1883: "We'd have a hard struggle, but the pleasure of being together, living together in this inexpressibly beautiful nature ..."

Context:
JLB 397, 10/16/1883: "I've now been breathing heathland air for a month, I absolutely needed it too -- I went and sat by a peasant's peat fire with a cradle beside it. I speak calmly, I think calmly now."

Context:
JLB 406, 11/12/1883 or 11/13/1883: "One thing I tell you, that this countryside has the effect on me of bringing me peace, faith, courage, and I believe you also need this influence yourself -- it would be the very, very best thing for you -- let you find yourself, your soul again."

Context:
BVG 332, 10/12/1883: "The longer you remain in this mood, the more you foster nervousness, your constant enemy and mine."
JLB 394, 10/12/1883: "The more you remain in the frame of mind of not being part of nature, the more you play into the hands of your eternal enemy (and mine too), Nerves."

Context:
JLB 397, 10/16/1883: "I must now warn you of something from my own experience. Take care that your nerves don't play you a nasty trick. You've been through periods of dreadful strain, are right in the middle of it. Are not the man to break down."

Context:
BVG 339a, 11/5/1883: "What life I think best, oh, without the least shadow of a doubt it is a life consisting of long years of intercourse with nature in the country -- and Something High -- inconceivable, 'awfully unnamable' -- for it is impossible to find a name for that which is higher than nature."
JLB 403, 11/5/1883: "What I think is the best life, oh without even the slightest shadow of a doubt, is a life made up of long years of being in touch with nature out of doors -- and with the something on high -- unfathomable, ' awfully Unnameable', because one can't find a name for it -- above that nature" (emphasis in original.

Context:
BVG 339a, 11/5/1883: "What life I think best, oh, without the least shadow of a doubt it is a life consisting of long years of intercourse with nature in the country -- and Something High -- inconceivable, 'awfully unnamable' -- for it is impossible to find a name for that which is higher than nature."
JLB 403, 11/5/1883: "What I think is the best life, oh without even the slightest shadow of a doubt, is a life made up of long years of being in touch with nature out of doors -- and with the something on high -- unfathomable, ' awfully Unnameable', because one can't find a name for it -- above that nature" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 333, 10/16/1883: "Now I speak calmly -- I think calmly -- It is excellent that you have written about it to me go on confiding in me -- go on trusting me a little bit more, or rather not me, but put your trust in the same thing I put my trust in, namely that one ought to risk leaving the world in order to look for ' It' in a more quiet life with a handicraft."
JLB 397, 10/16/1883: "I speak calmly, I think calmly now. It's very good that you wrote to me about it -- keep trusting me -- trust me a little bit more, or rather not me, but trust in the same thing in which I trust, that one must dare to step out of the world and to look to a quieter life with a craft." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 392, 10/3/1883: "I received a postal order for 10 guilders from Pa, which with what I got from you means that I can now do some painting."

Context:
JLB 392, 10/3/1883: "I received a postal order for 10 guilders from Pa."

Context:
JLB 392, 10/3/1883: "For I'd had paint sent from Furnée's, because I thought the same about it as you say in your letter, that by making sure I become absorbed in the work and lose myself in it so to speak, my mood would change, and indeed it's already a good deal better."

Context:
JLB 392, 10/3/1883: "For I'd had paint sent from Furnée's, because I thought the same about it as you say in your letter, that by making sure I become absorbed in the work and lose myself in it so to speak, my mood would change, and indeed it's already a good deal better."

Context:
BVG 330, 10/3/1883: "This time I am writing to you from the remotest corner of Drenthe, where I have arrived after an endless passage by barge through the heathland."
JLB 392, 10/3/1883: "This time I'm writing to you from the very back of beyond in Drenthe, where I arrived after an endless trip through the heath on the barge."

Context:
JLB 392, 10/3/1883: "I'm close to Zweeloo here, where Liebermann [Max Liebermann, 1847-1935; German artist], among others, has been, and besides there's an area here where there are large, very old sod huts where there isn't even a partition between the barn and the living room. My plan for these first days is to visit that region." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 395, 10/12/1883-10/13/1883: "I now have a reasonably large room where a stove has been placed, where there happens to be a small balcony. From which I can even see the heath with the huts. I also look out on a very curious drawbridge."

Context:
BVG 330, 10/3/1883: "The fantastic silhouettes of Don Quixote-like mills or curious monsters of drawbridges are profiled against the vibrant evening sky."
JLB 392, 10/3/1883: "The spiky silhouettes of Don Quixote-like mills or strange hulks of drawbridges are profiled against the teeming evening sky."

Context:
BVG 330, 10/3/1883: "The fantastic silhouettes of Don Quixote-like mills or curious monsters of drawbridges are profiled against the vibrant evening sky."
JLB 392, 10/3/1883: "The spiky silhouettes of Don Quixote-like mills or strange hulks of drawbridges are profiled against the teeming evening sky."

Context:
BVG 330, 10/3/1883: "Such villages look wonderfully cosy in the evening sometimes, with the reflections of little lighted windows in the water, or in the mud and puddles."
JLB 392, 10/3/1883: "In the evening a village like that is sometimes really snug, with the light from the little windows reflected in the water or in mud and puddles."

Context:
BVG 331, 10/7/1883: "I often think of Van Goyen on these misty mornings, the cottages are just like this, they have that same peaceful and naïve aspect."
JLB 393, 10/7/1883: "Well, I often think about Van Goyen on these misty mornings, the little houses are just like this. That really peaceful and naive look."

Context:
BVG 340, 11/2/1883: " Imagine a trip across the heath at 3 o'clock in the morning in a small open cart (I went with the man with whom I'm lodging, who had to go to Assen market), along a road, or 'diek' as they call it here, which had been banked up with mud instead of sand."
JLB 402, 11/2/1883: " Imagine a trip across the heath at 3 o'clock in the morning in an open cart (I went with the man where I lodge, who had to go to the market in Assen). Along a road, or 'diek' as they say here, which they'd put mud on to raise it instead of sand."

That all of Vincent's discussion of the latter's imagery is based on this minimal, hearsay familiarity is a sign of how desperately Vincent wants to use Theo's approval of Liebermann as an additional lure to Drenthe. Most of that discussion consists of comparing Liebermann's unseen work to that of other artists, all of whom Vincent invokes to enhance the allure of the Drenthe landscape. These include Gerke Henkes, a now-obscure landscapist and genre painter (JLB 387, 9/16/1883); the brothers' Barbizon favorites, Georges Michel and Jules Dupré (JLB 395, 10/12/1883 or 10/13/1883); and, most improbably, Hubert Herkomer (JLB 387, 9/16/1883). "I see from your description that he, Liebermann, must work much in Herkomer's manner," Vincent writes, straining to merge these very different artists in the same way he is straining to merge with Theo, "mainly because of consistently carrying through, and analyzing that, those patches of light and shade caused by sunbeams through the foliage, which dazzles many an eye" (ibid.; emphasis in original). (Vincent may have designed this passage to recruit Theo's enthusiasm for the Impressionists to his Drenthe cause ["analyzing that, those patches of light"]. If so, it suggests just how poorly Vincent understood -- or how little he cared about -- the new artistic movement in Paris.)

Although Vincent knew of the painting Liebermann exhibited at the Salon of 1883 (Die Rasenbleiche [The Washerwomen]) (he refers to it in JLB 402), we assume from his previous statement ("I've never seen anything by him") that he knew of it only by report. While in Zweeloo, Vincent "[made] a sketch of the very apple orchard where Liebermann made his large painting," but we conclude this is based on information that Theo gave him in a letter, not on having actually seen the painting or knowing the image (JLB 402, 11/2/1883). 

Context:
JLB 387, 9/16/1883: "I had already heard something about Liebermann, but your description of his brushwork, in particular, is more enlightening."

Context:
JLB 395, 10/12/1883-10/13/1883: "According to a current rumour, it appears that Liebermann is somewhere here in the neighbourhood. I'd like to meet him sometime."

Context:
JLB 402, 11/2/1883: "A silence, a mystery, a peace as only he has painted."

Context:
BVG 340, 11/2/1883: "Journeying through these parts for hour after hour, one feels that there really is nothing but that infinite earth, that mould of corn or heather, that infinite sky. Horses and men seem as small as fleas. One is unaware of anything else, however large it may be in itself; one knows only that there is earth and sky."
JLB 402, 11/2/1883: "When one travels for hours and hours through the region, one feels as if there's actually nothing but that infinite earth, that mould of wheat or heather, that infinite sky. Horses, people seem as small as fleas then. One feels nothing any more, however big it may be in itself, one only knows that there is land and sky."

Context:
BVG 340, 11/2/1883: "That's what the good, fertile lands of Drenthe really are -- and all in a misty atmosphere."
JLB 402, 11/2/1883: "That's what the good, fertile lands of Drenthe really are -- and all in a misty atmosphere."

Context:
JLB 402, 11/2/1883: "However, in one's capacity as a tiny speck watching other tiny specks -- leaving aside the infinite -- one discovers that every tiny speck is a Millet."

Context:
BVG 340, 11/2/1883: "Imagine that sea of mud at dusk with a whitish sky overhead, thus everything black against white. And in that sea of mud a shaggy figure -- the shepherd -- and a mass of oval shapes, half wool, half mud, jostling one another, pushing one another out of the way -- the flock. You see them coming, you stand in their midst, you turn around and follow them. Laboriously and reluctantly they work their way up the muddy road."
JLB 402, 11/2/1883: "Imagine this muddy mess in the evening twilight with a whitish sky above, so everything black on white. And in this muddy mess a rough figure -- the shepherd -- a throng of oval masses, half wool, half mud, that bump into one another, jostle one another -- the flock. You see it coming -- you stand in the midst of it -- you turn round and follow them. With difficulty and reluctantly they progress along the muddy road."

Context:
JLB 402, 11/2/1883: "In a little inn along the way drew a little old woman at the spinning wheel, little dark silhouette -- like something out of a fairy tale -- little dark silhouette against a bright window through which one saw the bright sky and a path through the delicate green and a few geese cropping the grass."

Many of the images Vincent are taken from previous descriptions and from favorite prints and paintings: roads lined with "slender poplars" and "an avenue of tall poplars"; church towers; isolated huts on the heath; "the red glow of the fire shining through the tiny windows"; reflections in standing water; objects in silhouette ("so everything black on white"); farmhouses with "mossy roofs and piles of straw and peat between the poplars" (ibid.).

Twilight -- always one of Vincent's favorite images -- receives an especially elaborate treatment as Vincent describes the return of a flock of sheep to the sheepfold at dusk: "With difficulty and reluctantly they progress along the muddy road. Still, there's the farm in the distance -- a few mossy roofs and piles of straw and peat between the poplars. Again the sheepfold is like a triangle in silhouette. Dark. The door stands wide open like the entrance to a dark cave. The light from the sky behind shines through the cracks in the boards at the back. The whole caravan of masses of wool and mud disappears into this cave -- the shepherd and a woman with a lantern shut the doors behind them." (ibid.)

The relationship of this final image -- a small light in the darkness -- to the "light from within" of the "Au charbonnage" in Brussels (see Chapter 11) is unmistakable, as is the parallel between the miners -- the "people of darkness" -- laboring toward the light of Christ, and the sheep following their shepherd into the "dark cave" of the sheepfold. All of Vincent's twilight images, written or painted, including his starry nights, fall within this lineage of imagery. It is possible, of course, that Vincent was fortunate enough to encounter all of these familiar and beloved images in his day-trip to Zweeloo. It is more likely, however, that he manufactured some of the details, assembling his narrative from memories and imagination to create a persuasive (and consoling) vision -- exactly the creative process that produced his paintings. 

In November 1877, Vincent announced the death of Brion in a way that clearly suggests Theo would grieve with him: "And Brion has also died, it really is beautiful work that he did in his lifetime. ... what a great variety of things he has made, he had a great talent and he made the most of it and gained from it" (JLB 135, 11/24/1877-11/25/1877). In the same letter, Vincent used Brion's imagery to describe the son of an old Zundert dependent who had just died, suggesting Theo's familiarity with his imagery. In March 1878, Vincent used Brion again to illustrate the pain he felt at the death of another artist admired by both brothers, Charles Daubigny: "Uncle told me that Daubigny has died, I freely admit that it made me sad to hear it, just as it did to hear that Brion had died ... because the work of such men, if one understands it, moves one more deeply than one is aware of, it must be truly good, when one dies, to be conscious of having done a thing or two in truth, knowing that as a result one will continue to live in the memory of at least a few, and having left a good example to those who follow" (JLB 142, 3/3/1878).

Indeed, so strong was the fondness for Brion that Vincent immediately made a list of "the paintings by Brion that I could remember" and confirmed that Theo's familiarity with -- and fondness for -- Brion's work matched his own: "next time you come you must tell me whether I've forgotten many" (ibid.). From the moment in the fall of 1880, in the Borinage, when Vincent declared himself an artist, he took Brion as one of his principal models: "But I feel the need to study figure drawing from masters like Millet, Breton and Brion or Boughton, or someone else" (JLB 156, 8/20/1880). Brion also figured prominently in Vincent's nostalgia for the art of the recent past: "Just think of how many great men have died or ... won't be with us much longer -- Millet, Brion, Troyon [Constant Troyon, 1810-1865; French artist], Rousseau, Daubigny, Corot -- and a host of others -- are no more" (JLB 280, 11/5/1882).

As a self-proclaimed draftsman, Vincent took a special interest in Brion's illustrations for some of his favorite novels, including Les Deux Frères by Erckmann-Chatrian and Charles-Alexandre Chatrian (JLB 265, 9/17/1882 or 9/18/1882) and Hugo's Les Misérables (JLB 333, 3/29/1883 and 4/1/1883). In his figure drawing, Vincent considered Brion the equal of Millet (JLB 156, 8/20/1880), Paul Gavarni, (JLB 280, 11/5/1882), Charles Degroux (JLB 291, 12/4/1882-12/9/1882), and Israëls (JLB 298, 1/3/1883). When reaching for landscape painters that Theo admired, Vincent also invoked the "sombre, noble quality" (JLB 291, 1/3/1883) of Brion: "Do you know the effects one sees here early in the morning these days? It's splendid -- it's what Brion painted in the painting in the Luxembourg, The end of the flood, namely that band of red light on the horizon with rain-clouds above." (JLB 280, 11/5/1882; emphasis in original.)

In the last year of his life, when Vincent returned to his fascination with figure drawing and reached out from the asylum at St. Rémy to reassert fraternal solidarity with his recently-married brother, he invoked the artist one last time: "And Brion -- oh a maker of Alsatian genre paintings people will tell me. That's fine, he has indeed done the Engagement meal, the Protestant wedding &c. which are indeed Alsatian. When no one is up to illustrating Les Misérables, he however does it in a manner unsurpassed up to now, and he isn't mistaken in his types. Is it a small thing to know people so well, the humanity of that period, so well that one scarcely makes a mistake in expression and type?" (JLB 798, 9/2/1889.) 

Context:
JLB 402, 11/2/1883: "Think of the Last day of creation by Brion -- well, yesterday I felt that I understood the meaning of that painting."

Context:
BVG 340, 11/2/1883: "But now you can see what it is like here. One feels just as if one were at, say, an exhibition des cent chef-d'œvres. What does one bring back from such a day? Merely a number of rough sketches. Yet there is something else one brings back -- a quiet delight in one's work."
JLB 402, 11/2/1883: "But that's how it is here. One feels exactly as if one had been at an exhibition of one hundred masterpieces, for example. What does one get out of a day like that? Just a few scratches. And yet one gets something else out of it, too -- a calm passion for work."

Context:
BVG 335, 10/22/1883: "I don't mean to say it is if it happens through thoughtlessness, but if it happens through that odious, wanton, capricious, reckless way of outliving one's fame, and through supposing that everything is only a question of money, and that anything is allowed; it may succeed many a time, but the end is a breakdown, and such a managing director is the only man who gets off safely for the moment."
JLB 398, 10/22/1883: "I wouldn't say this if it happens through thoughtlessness, but if it happens because of that odious, bumptious, capricious, reckless way of outliving one's reputation and taking the position of believing that everything is a question of money and that one can and may simply do anything -- it may succeed many times, but in the end they'll get into trouble, and that general manager will be the only one who comes out of it well for the time being."

Context:
BVG 335, 10/22/1883: "The latter will have lost their wits entirely by then; and decadence being decadence, a deserved ruin of a business will follow, the fatal consequence of certain mistakes."
JLB 398, 10/22/1883: "By then they'd be even less competent -- and decline is decline -- be the deserved ruin of a business, fatally associated with certain mistakes."

A week later, Vincent returns to the subject of Van Wisselingh, despite the fact that his history proves rather more than is convenient to Vincent's argument that Theo should leave dealing altogether. Vincent solves that problem with characteristic abandon by suggesting that Van Wisselingh, too, should quit dealing and become a painter: "You see a way in the art trade -- as far as I can see that makes you something like Wisselingh, to mention a good man. I have great respect for Wisselingh, I like him, what you will, but even now I'd like to say to him, old chap, become a painter even now. You're much too honest for the present-day art trade, much too clever &c." (JLB 396, 10/15/1883.)

Another week later, Vincent takes up again the subject of the halcyon days of Goupil, enhancing the argument with a delusively fond remembrance of his own time working there: "I -- who spent six years in it -- who, although I was one of the lowliest employees, feels that something of my heart is still in it, even after more than 10 years -- I find it bitterly, bitterly, bitterly sad. It's a subject better not discussed. I don't know the story of the firm that well, perhaps I've got things wrong, but this much I do know. It was very different there in the past and, I say again, I think it's dreadful that things are going so badly now. In my view the gentlemen should have thought better of it much earlier. They started in Uncle Vincent's time with a few employees, whom they treated by no means so high-handedly and like machines. There was cooperation then, people could put their hearts into it then." (JLB 398, 10/22/1883; emphasis in original.) Did Vincent offer these uncharacteristic paeans to the "old" Goupil sincerely or merely as arguments of convenience? The question itself probably distorts the reality of Vincent's complicated relationship with the past. 

Context:
BVG 335, 10/22/1883: "Suffit, in my opinion the house of G. & Co. is going in for gambling now, and who sows the wind shall reap the whirlwind."
JLB 398, 10/22/1883: "Enough. In my view the house of G&Cie is indulging in a bubble company, and he who sows the wind reaps the whirlwind."

Context:
JLB 394, 10/12/1883: "Now, stand your ground and don't let your pain throw you off balance -- if the gentlemen behave like this, stand on your dignity and don't accept your dismissal except on terms that guarantee you'll get a new situation."

Context:
JLB 394, 10/12/1883: "Because, and actually to my surprise, for I thought that even if they did it to me they would, however, certainly not have dared to do it to you, I read in your letter the words 'when I spoke to them this week the gentlemen made it almost impossible for me.'"

Context:
BVG 339b, 11/8/1883: "Enough, I myself have a presentiment that it will come to pass that you will leave Goupil & Co. because G. & Co. is unsupportably arrogant, and will do mean things, and in a word, they will do their utmost to make staying on impossible for you."
JLB 404, 11/8/1883: "Enough, for myself I have a presentiment that it will come to pass that you leave G&Cie because G&Cie will behave intolerably, recklessly, really badly, in short will do everything they can to make it impossible for you."

Context:
BVG 343, 12/1/1883: "On looking back -- remembering your somewhat melancholy but to me so touching letter, written at a moment when G. & Co. was treating you horribly unfairly (a moment I passed through in something of the same way) -- on looking back, I say that I believe you took a different view of the moment at which I myself said to Messrs. Goupil & Co.: 'If you are bent on inducing me to go, I shall not refuse to go.' And that things have really calmed down, for good and all perhaps -- and with your assent -- que soit -- I do not protest against it."
JLB 408, 12/1/1883: "Now, looking back, I think as regards your somewhat melancholy but for me so touching letter, written at a time when G&Cie were being terribly nasty to you (a moment COMPARABLE to what I experienced myself) -- now in hindsight I think, I say, that you took a different view of that moment when I said to the G&Cie gentlemen 'if you force me to go, I won't refuse to go', and that things really have calmed down, perhaps for good -- and with your consent -- so be it -- I won't object" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 339b, 11/8/1883: "Enough, I myself have a presentiment that it will come to pass that you will leave Goupil & Co. because G. & Co. is unsupportably arrogant, and will do mean things, and in a word, they will do their utmost to make staying on impossible for you."
JLB 404, 11/8/1883: "Enough, for myself I have a presentiment that it will come to pass that you leave G&Cie because G&Cie will behave intolerably, recklessly, really badly, in short will do everything they can to make it impossible for you."

Context:
BVG 339b, 11/8/1883: "Just wait and see how things turn out, but do not flatter yourself with the belief in reconciliation."
JLB 404, 11/8/1883: "Wait and see what transpires, but don't flatter yourself with much hope of reconciliation."

Context:
BVG 332, 10/12/1883: "Now, stick to your point, and don't let your grief let you lose your head; if the gentlemen behave like that, then stand on your honour, and do not accept your dismissal except on conditions which guarantee your getting a new situation. Don't fly into a rage, they are not worth that, though they incite you to it. I flew into a rage and walked out. Now again, my position was different from yours. I was one of the least, you, one of the foremost, yet I am afraid you would feel what I say about being uprooted too if you were out of it, so face this fact coolly, don't give in, and don't let yourself be turned out without being somewhat prepared for the difficult situation of having to start anew."
JLB 394, 10/12/1883: "Now, stand your ground and don't let your pain throw you off balance -- if the gentlemen behave like this, stand on your dignity and don't accept your dismissal except on terms that guarantee you'll get a new situation. They aren't worth your losing your temper, don't do that, even if they provoke you. I lost my temper and walked straight out. Now in my position it was different again from yours; I was one of the least, you are one of the first, but what I say about being uprooted, I'm afraid that you would feel the same if you were out of it, so look at that, too, cold-bloodedly, stand up to them and don't let them push you out without being a little prepared for that difficult situation of beginning again." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 380, 9/15/1884-9/30/1884: "Goupil & Co. has always been a bit orthodox, and has been rather in the habit of looking down on other houses, as if they were something better than the other dealers -- well, it was and is tweedledum and tweedledee."
JLB 436, 3/10/1884: "It seems to me that G&Cie were rather orthodox and tended to look down on other houses as if they themselves were better than other dealers. Well they were, and still are, all tarred with the same brush."

Context:
BVG 335, 10/22/1883: "But leaving that out of it, it seems to me that the whole art business is rotten -- to tell you the truth, I doubt if the present enormous prices, even for masterpieces, will last."
JLB 398, 10/22/1883: "But that aside -- it occurs to me that the whole art trade is sick -- to tell you what I really think, I doubt whether the appalling prices will hold, even for masterpieces."

Context:
BVG 331, 10/7/1883: "Personal activity, personal energy, Tersteeg has it, you have it, and at the same time you have a position; but in case of a change, it might not be of any use to you, and you would hurt yourself everywhere against 'triomphe de la médiocrité, de la nullité, de l'absurdité.'"
JLB 393, 10/7/1883: "Personal passion for work, personal energy. Tersteeg has it, you have it, and at the same time despite that you have a position. But in the case of change, be aware that it could be that you get nothing out of it, and may everywhere come up against the 'triumph of mediocrity, of nullity, of absurdity.'" (Emphasis in original.)

Also: "I have a silent hope that one would be able to go ahead in a reasonable way, not going absolutely without, but with a relatively small part of what's needed for food and shelter" (JLB 397, 10/16/1883). Vincent sounds an interesting variation on this theme in a later letter in which he suggests that, as painters, he and Theo might become so engrossed in their work that they would forget to eat: "That day passed like a dream, I had been so immersed in that heart-rending music all day that I had literally forgotten even to eat and drink" (JLB 402, 11/2/1883). 

Context:
JLB 396, 10/15/1883: "When I think now about the possibility or impossibility of your coming here, now or later, and start working it out, then I come to the conclusion that together we'd need little more or no more than I alone" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 396, 10/15/1883: "All right, fine, but there's one thing I ask everyone who says, I don't have the means -- that question is: My friend, what are your demands, how high do you set your standard? Is your character such that you think the same about it as Corot, say, who wasn't embarrassed, if he could dine out, to buy a loaf from the baker and eat it in the fields? In short, managing to make do and not clinging in the least to life's routine."

Context:
BVG 336, 10/28/1883: " Money, as far as it is not used for the absolute necessaries of life, leaves us cold."
JLB 400, 10/28/1883: " Money leaves us cold except as far as it's needed for the absolute essentials of life."

Context:
BVG 332, 10/12/1883: "I have reached the point where my work will probably yield some profit soon."
JLB 394, 10/12/1883: "I'm at a point where there will probably be some income from my work soon" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 338, 11/11/1883: "Above our doing the right thing and doing the wrong thing there is an infinitely powerful force."
JLB 405, 11/11/1883: "There's an infinitely powerful force over our doing right and our doing wrong."

Context:
BVG 336, 10/28/1883: "I know all these things have a perilous money side, but what I say is, let's weaken this perilous money side as much as possible, in the first place by not being under its sway too long, and then by feeling that if one will only set about things with love, with a certain understanding of each other and cooperation and mutual helpfulness, many things which would otherwise be insupportable would be softened -- yes, even totally changed."
JLB 400, 10/28/1883: "I know that all these things have an inevitable financial aspect, but I say, let's weaken this inevitable money side as much as possible, in the first place by not being too afraid of it, and by feeling that if one sets to work with love, with a singular understanding of one another and working together and supporting one another, this would alleviate many things that would otherwise be unbearable, indeed sometimes change them utterly" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 339, 10/15/1883: "When I think of the possibility of your coming here sooner or later, and I begin to calculate, I arrived at the conclusion that together we shall need little more or no more than I alone."
JLB 396, 10/15/1883: "When I think now about the possibility or impossibility of your coming here, now or later, and start working it out, then I come to the conclusion that together we'd need little more or no more than I alone" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 396, 10/15/1883: "We'd have to have, let's say, 150 francs a month as a minimum, preferably 200. Credit would have to be found for that, not without a security, but that security would be our work. Let's say that we'd have to work for another 2 years before we start to earn quickly, and more than the outgoings, so that we can pay off the debt." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 393, 10/7/1883: "If C.M. comes, talk to him about things again. I wish above all that things would become a little easier for you through your relationship with him."

Context:
JLB 396, 10/15/1883: "For myself, I can say no more than that I'm willing to pledge all my own studies as security for the repayment of what we absolutely need for the first two years."

Context:
JLB 396, 10/15/1883: "The guarantee of this -- I'm talking now about you and me working together -- is that we'll already have thrown a lot into it ourselves and have laid a certain foundation. What I can do, I can do, some aspects of drawing, yes and even some aspects of painting are firmly ingrained in me, and not in the least coincidentally but acquired through honest work. I say, yet another guarantee that we aren't just talking hot air."

Context:
BVG 339, 10/15/1883: "I call this another guarantee that we do not build castles in the air."
JLB 396, 10/15/1883: "I say, yet another guarantee that we aren't just talking hot air."

Context:
BVG 339, 10/15/1883: "We should need credit to the amount of 1500 guilders. I do not know where and how to get it. I will work out for you how we should use the money."
JLB 396, 10/15/1883: "We'd have to have 1,500 guilders credit. I don't know where and how it would be possible to come by it. I'll work out for you what it would buy."

Context:
JLB 396, 10/15/1883: "Two years is a long time, is all you'll need in the circumstances to reach a certain level."

Context:
JLB 396, 10/15/1883: "Now, as far as I'm concerned, I have a lot of plans, but for myself I do wish that I could spend a hundred guilders to improve my equipment. And I wish that I knew for certain that I would be able to be here for two years, say, come what may. At the moment I have so little security for the future, and I wish that I knew for sure that I wouldn't have to leave here again in a while."

Context:
JLB 396, 10/15/1883: "I said many things that people say can't be done actually can be when you come down to it. Why shouldn't we be able to live with Pa if circumstances meant that we had to? I don't say for nothing, but in the event that we couldn't get as much credit as we'd need to last out here in Drenthe." (Emphasis in original.)

Elsewhere, however, Vincent indirectly acknowledges that their parents will oppose Theo leaving Goupil: "I know that my words will stand out oddly against what other people would say if you consulted them; they'd dismiss it with 'it will turn out all right', 'the desired changes will happen'" (JLB 401, 10/31/1883). "People may make a fuss, but you won't hear much of it" (JLB 396, 10/15/1883). Vincent engages these inevitable challenges in two, opposite ways: by assuring Theo that the family will ultimately accept his decision and see the rightness of his new course (JLB 394, 10/12/1883); and by urging him to ignore the family's negative reaction ("Let the world spitefully say what it wouldn't refrain from saying, that can leave you and me cold" [JLB 401, 10/31/1883]). 

Context:
JLB 394, 10/12/1883: "In the meantime, let me know if I should go home for a while so that you have your hands free. And again, Pa, Ma, Wil, Marie, I, in a word all of us, think much more of you yourself than of your money." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 404, 11/8/1883: "Dear brother, you don't in the least have to abandon your endeavours in general to keep the whole family going. On the contrary, although I didn't feel until now that I was entitled to put in a word here, the current state of affairs leads me to propose that in future you and I will talk about these things further. We give up nothing of what we have in hand, but everyone at home, Pa, Ma, Wil, Marie and we ourselves, too, have to understand something clearly. That we'll have to work together."

Context:
JLB 394, 10/12/1883: "A storm is brewing. We see it brewing. That lightning might well strike us."

Context:
JLB 404, 11/8/1883: "That we'll have to work together and that, because of the G&Cie debacle, we're facing a few years when we'll have to: Stoop to conquer" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 332, 10/12/1883: "Theo, when, perhaps a year ago, you said you would certainly not become a painter, but would definitely stay in your present profession, I could not but acquiesce; now I no longer acquiesce to the same extent: throughout the history of art one repeatedly finds the phenomenon of two brothers being painters."
JLB 394, 10/12/1883: "Theo, if you had said perhaps a year ago that you would certainly not become a painter, would certainly stay in your present profession, I would have had to accede; now I don't accede so readily, I still see that repeated occurrence in the history of art of the phenomenon of two brothers who are painters" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 336, 10/28/1883: "We shall do nothing we need be ashamed of; with what Carlyle calls 'quite a royal feeling,' we shall be able to roam about in nature freely, and to work -- we shall be able to work, because we are honest. We shall say, when we were children we made a mistake, or rather, We had to obey, and do certain things to earn our bread."
JLB 400, 10/28/1883: "We can openly stroll about the countryside and work, with what Carlyle calls quite a royal feeling. We can work because we're honest. We say, we made a mistake when we were children, or rather we had to do what we were told then, and do what we did to earn our living."

Context:
BVG 332, 10/12/1883: "Yes, for a time, if it must be, and if both sides feel that everything must be subordinated to what the force majeur of circumstances demands."
JLB 394, 10/12/1883: " Yes, for a time, if we have to and people on both sides understand that everything has to be subordinated to what the force majeure of circumstances dictates" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 339b, 11/8/1883: "And although the interval may be something of a 'bad passage' for all of us, we must try to make up for it by a little cordiality and love between us."
JLB 404, 11/8/1883: "And even if the intervening period is a bit of a rough ride for us all, we'll just have to try to make up for it with a little warmth and love between us."

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."

Context:
BVG 332, 10/12/1883: "And today I shall simply write Father this: In case Theo considers it advisable that my expenses be reduced to a minimum and I should have to live at home for a while, I hope, for myself as much as for you, that we shall possess the wisdom not to make a mess of things by discord, and that, ignoring the past, we shall resign ourselves to what the new circumstances may bring."
JLB 394, 10/12/1883: "Well, I'll write to Pa today, without more ado, simply this: if Theo were to think it advisable that my expenses should be reduced to a minimum and I should live at home for a while, I hope that both you and I will have the sense not to put a spoke in the wheel through mutual discord, but keeping silent about everything that has passed will reconcile ourselves to what circumstances bring."

Context:
BVG 339, 10/15/1883: "But never mind that, and take the first possibility. It would be hard work, but by the pleasure of being together, by living together in that unutterably beautiful scenery, and especially the consciousness of being two craftsman, boy, how delightful it would be. So delightful that I hardly dare to think of it, yet cannot help doing so, though that happiness seems too great, for you as well as for myself, because we are not used to getting pleasure out of life, and feel that is rather more for others than for us."
JLB 396, 10/15/1883: "We'd have a hard struggle, but the pleasure of being together, living together in this inexpressibly beautiful nature, above all the consciousness of being two craftsmen, old chap, how almighty pleasant it would be. So almighty pleasant that I scarcely dare think of it and yet can't help myself, although that happiness seems too tremendous to me, for you as well as for me myself, since we aren't accustomed to having pleasure in our lives, and feel as if that were more for other people -- not for us." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 406, 11/12/1883 or 11/13/1883: "The rent is very low; if one only had company it would be such a wonderful thing to rent a peasant cottage and to arrange everything solidly and less precariously than in an inn."

Context:
JLB 400, 10/28/1883: "Neither of us would be alone, our work would flow together. We might have frightening moments at the outset, we'd prepare ourselves for them and arrange things in such a way that we had to withstand them, couldn't turn back. Not look behind us nor be able to look behind us, actually force ourselves to look forward. But it's precisely then that we're far away from all friends and acquaintances, we fight the fight without anyone seeing us, and that's best, other people can only hinder us. We see victory ahead -- we feel it in us. We'll be so busy working that we won't be able to do anything but think positively about the work."

Context:
JLB 396, 10/15/1883: "You would awaken, and when you got up you would find yourself by a peasant's open peat fire with a cradle beside it. You would think better there and feel Correggio's anche io -- I too am a painter. They'd say, you aren't -- you would reply, well, well." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 339, 10/15/1883: "We will have insured our lives as to board and lodging, and will not be able to go back, but must, must, must go forward and win."
JLB 396, 10/15/1883: "We'll have assured our lives as far as food and shelter are concerned, and can no longer go back but must, must, must go forward and win."

Context:
BVG 336, 10/28/1883: "There is a saying of Gustave Dore's which I have always admired, ' J'ai la patience d'un boeuf,' I find a certain goodness in it, a certain resolute honesty -- in short, that saying has a deep meaning, it is the word of a real artist."
JLB 400, 10/28/1883: "There's a saying of Gustave Doré's that I've always found exceedingly beautiful -- I have the patience of an ox -- right away I see something good in it, a certain resolute honesty; in short there's a lot in that saying, it's a real artist's saying."

Context:
BVG 337, 10/31/1883: "However, the How-to-do-it system entails saying, I shall do my best to do it, without asking any such questions; on the other hand, it seems to me that it is the How-NOT-to-do-it system which says, 'I know in advance I shall not be able to do it.'"
JLB 401, 10/31/1883: "Only the How to do it system involves saying I'll do my best to do it, asking no such questions; in my view the How not to do it system is only that which says 'I know in advance that I can't do it anyway.'" (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 396, 10/15/1883: "But were that same desire to work to be the driving force behind your feeling for beauty, the result would be a true painter."

At one point, Vincent even assures Theo that he will be a painter by the time he turns thirty, in 1887, although he hedges this prediction in a welter of indirections: "And as for you, I still don't see it as a misfortune, this hasn't been proved to me at all, on the contrary, if the outcome were to be that you became a painter in your 30th year, say, I should think it a great good fortune. Real life only begins at 30, that being the most active part." (JLB 398, 10/22/1883.) There is, however, a clear hint of an assurance of commercial success in both that passage, and this one from later in the same letter: "if you do ever decide to become a painter, do it with inner cheerfulness and as coolly as possible. Then, taking the broad view of things, you would have to see the time between now and your 30th year as a rather wretched period of pottering around, but at the end of it you would see everything renewed, and a broad future." (ibid.) 

Context:
JLB 393, 10/7/1883: "When you started you wouldn't have to be alone, and that, I assure you, enormously shortens the time when nothing works. It's really terrible that one sometimes has to search for a year for something that could be explained in a fortnight by someone who is further along. It comes down to personal effort, but the road is easier or harder depending on whether one is alone or not." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 339a, 11/5/1883: "I am so deeply convinced of your artistic talent that to me you will be an artist as soon as you take up a brush or a piece of crayon and, adroitly or maladroitly, make something."
JLB 403, 11/5/1883: "I believe so strongly in your artistic ability that to me you'll be an artist as soon as you pick up a brush or a piece of chalk and, clumsily or not clumsily, make something."

Context:
BVG 343, 12/1/1883: "Well -- then I told you frankly all my thoughts about the possibility of your becoming a painter; I said, ' You can do it if only you want to, and I believe in you as an artist, from the moment you take up the brush,' though nobody else might."
JLB 408, 12/1/1883: "Very well -- then I candidly told you all my thoughts about the possibility of your becoming a painter, I said you can do it provided you want to, and I believe in you as an artist, from the moment you pick up a brush, even if no one else does" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 396, 10/15/1883: "Mine is in the past, I did what I did up to today, but I wish above all that you would start painting straightaway; I do know what you'd want to make here" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 396, 10/15/1883: "I would like you to get down straightaway to landscapes conceived in the spirit of Michel ... I don't pretend that they're Michels, but I do dare say that once you've gone that far you'll find your own way from there." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 339, 10/15/1883: "I should like you to try your hand at landscape at once, in the spirit of Michel, which I see here all the time. It is absolutely Michel, that's what it is here."
JLB 396, 10/15/1883: "I would like you to get down straightaway to landscapes conceived in the spirit of Michel which I see over and over again, wholly and utterly Michel, that is absolutely what it is here" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 339, 10/15/1883: "I should like you to try your hand at landscape at once, in the spirit of Michel, which I see here all the time. It is absolutely Michel, that's what it is here."
JLB 396, 10/15/1883: "I would like you to get down straightaway to landscapes conceived in the spirit of Michel which I see over and over again, wholly and utterly Michel, that is absolutely what it is here" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 396, 10/15/1883: "You see here the genre of studies that I'd like you to tackle straightaway."

Context:
JLB 396, 10/15/1883: "I've already thought about it for so long."

Context:
JLB 397, 10/16/1883: "One becomes a painter by painting."

Context:
JLB 404, 11/8/1883: "And it has also become a fixed idea that you'll feel so uprooted, so disoriented, so shattered, that at the thought of standing behind another counter again you'll simply feel 'I can't', 'it wouldn't be any good', 'I'm no use as a dealer any more', 'it was good at G&Cie, where I was since I was a boy, but now it's all over.' There you have it, my presentiment tells me that au fond you'll feel something like that." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 339a, 11/5/1883: "They will tell you that you are a fanatic, but most certainly you -- after having undergone so many mental trials -- will know that it is impossible for you to be fanatical, for you are in a period of disenchantment. Don't let them try to turn things upside down, that won't do for me!"
JLB 403, 11/5/1883: " People will tell you, you're a fanatic and you don't foresee the future -- in my view you do foresee the future, in my view in a period like the one you're in now, certainly after such emotional experiences as you have had, one can't be fanatical then, one is in a period of disenchantment. People needn't try to twist things with me, that won't wash with me." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 341, 11/12/1883-11/13/1883: "So my plan is always to risk too much rather than too little; if one is defeated by too much, well, so be it."
JLB 406, 11/12/1883 or 11/13/1883: "Consequently, my plan is always to try to do too much rather than too little; if one bumps one's head doing too much, well then, one bumps it."

Context:
BVG 336, 10/28/1883: " If you hear a voice within you saying, 'You are not a painter,' then by all means paint, boy , and that voice will be silenced, but only by working."
JLB 400, 10/28/1883: " If something in you yourself says 'you aren't a painter' -- IT'S THEN THAT YOU SHOULD PAINT, old chap, and that voice will be silenced too, but precisely because of that" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 338, 11/11/1883: "And my aim in my life is to make pictures and drawings, as many and as well as I can; then, at the end of my life, I hope to pass away, looking back with love and tender regret, and thinking, 'Oh, the pictures I might have made!' But this does not exclude making what is possible, mind you. Do you object to this, either for me or for yourself?"
JLB 405, 11/11/1883: "And -- my plan for my life is to make paintings and drawings, as many and as well as I can -- then, when my life is over, I hope to depart in no other way than looking back with love and wistfulness and thinking, oh paintings that I would have made! But this doesn't, if you please, rule out making what is possible. Do you have anything against this, either for me or for you?"

Context:
BVG 339, 10/15/1883: "I should like you to try your hand at landscape at once, in the spirit of Michel, which I see here all the time. It is absolutely Michel, that's what it is here."
JLB 396, 10/15/1883: "I would like you to get down straightaway to landscapes conceived in the spirit of Michel which I see over and over again, wholly and utterly Michel, that is absolutely what it is here." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 395, 10/12/1883-10/13/1883: "As to colour, things often remind me of Michel too. You know, he also has a grey sky (slate-grey sometimes), a brown earth with yellow-greys. It's completely true and faithful to nature."

Context:
BVG 330, 10/3/1883: "But what tranquility, what expanse, what calmness in this landscape; one feels it only when there are miles and miles of Michels between oneself and the ordinary world."
JLB 392, 10/3/1883: "But what tranquility, what breadth, what calm there is in nature here, one doesn't feel it until one has miles and miles of Michels between oneself and the everyday" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 339, 10/15/1883: "So, boy, do come and paint with me on the heath, in the potato field, come and walk with me behind the plough and the shepherd -- come and sit with me, looking into the fire -- let the storm that blows across the heath blow through you."
JLB 396, 10/15/1883: "Come on, old chap, come and paint with me on the heath, in the potato field, come and walk with me behind the plough and the shepherd -- come and stare into the fire with me -- just let the storm that blows across the heath blow through you."

Context:
BVG 336, 10/28/1883: "It is something good, something peaceful, an honest enterprise."
JLB 400, 10/28/1883: "It's something good, something peaceful, a just enterprise."

Context:
JLB 400, 10/28/1883: "One must take it up with assurance, with a conviction that one is doing something reasonable, like the peasant guiding his plough or like our friend in the scratch, who is doing his own harrowing. If one has no horse, one is one's own horse -- a lot of people do that here."

Context:
JLB 397, 10/16/1883: "Painting is coming more easily to me; I feel an urge to tackle all sorts of things that I left undone until today."

Context:
JLB 398, 10/22/1883: "Your heart is in it, and you're more loyal to them than any of the others; I believe that you would rather stay because the house is the house, if it was endurable, even if another position would be more advantageous" (emphasis in original).

Vincent's defensiveness here suggests that Theo has "reminded" him that he did not support Theo's earlier artistic ambitions. True or not, meant seriously or not, the accusation sends Vincent into a two-letter tailspin of opaque "explanation" of the apparent volte face: "When I was in London, how often I would stand on the Thames Embankment and draw as I made my way home from Southampton Street in the evening, and it looked terrible. If only there had been someone then who had told me what perspective was, how much misery I would have been spared, how much further along I would be now. Well, fait accompli is fait accompli. It didn't happen then." (ibid.; emphasis in original.) Vincent's explanation amounts to this: "I myself was discouraged at the time because of my experience in England and the fact that no one supported my aspiration to be an artist."

We believe this represents a revision of history to suit his current persuasive purposes. There is no contemporaneous evidence that Vincent had any specific artistic ambitions in 1875–77 and copious evidence that he was entirely consumed by religious ambition from the time he left England in 1875 until the debacle in the Borinage in 1879–80. A few months later (in December 1883), Vincent appears to attempt an explanation of this anomaly in the record: "I was so burdened by a conviction that I was certainly not a painter that, even when I left G&Cie, I didn't turn my thoughts to it but to something else" (JLB 347, 12/15/1883; emphasis in original). Here Vincent insists that, in fact, he did want to be an artist when he left Goupil (a career in art dealing being his "first mistake"), but was somehow seized by a false conviction that he could not be one, and therefore turned to religion instead (his "second mistake"). This wildly implausible explanation (Vincent rarely denied his impulses) does triple duty: it explains why he did not become an artist earlier; it reaffirms his solidarity with Theo (i.e., "I, too, was beset by doubts"); and it supports his argument that Theo should set aside his doubts about coming to Drenthe (i.e., "Look how much time I lost and how much suffering I endured unnecessarily; don't make the same mistake, Theo"). How Vincent could be gripped by a conviction that he was "not a painter" even though he "didn't turn my thoughts to it" poses a epistemological quandary that reflects Vincent's broader defensive disarray when his arguments were confronted with the facts of his own past. 

Context:
JLB 397, 10/16/1883: "Now, the art trade brings with it certain prejudices that I believe you may perhaps still cling to, particularly ideas that painting is a gift -- well yes, a gift, but not as they make it appear; one must reach out and take it (and that taking is a difficult thing)" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 398, 10/22/1883: "I received your letter this morning; in many respects the contents didn't surprise me. It does surprise me, though, that you should credit me with even the slightest grasp of affairs, since, as you know, I'm considered to be a dreamer in that respect, and I didn't imagine that you would think any differently."

Context:
JLB 398, 10/22/1883: "For you say that your heart is in the art business. That's as may be, but I believe it's even more in art itself."

Vincent is trying to answer Theo's most practical argument against quitting Goupil (for Theo, unlike Vincent, is an eminently practical man) with this murky, metaphysical argument: i.e., "We'll pull together! The adversity will only bring us closer." Vincent pretends to speak on behalf of the entire family ("All, all of us without exception") when, without doubt, not a single family member would have seconded his preposterous proposal, or understood his recondite reasoning about "clear" and "false positions." In a later letter, Vincent confirms the substance of the quote attributed to Theo in the text: "I do have every sympathy for what you say, that for the sake of so many things you feel your heart pulled towards throwing yourself back into the business, not so much for your pleasure as for the welfare of many others" (JLB 404, 11/8/1883). 

Context:
BVG 332, 10/12/1883: "Theo, understand clearly what I mean at this moment: Father, Mother, Wil, Marie and particularly I myself are all assisted by you; you think you will have to stick it out for all our sakes, and believe me, I quite enter into your feelings about this, at least I can sympathize with them to a great extent."
JLB 394, 10/12/1883: "Make no mistake, Theo, at this moment Pa, Ma, Wil, Marie, and I above all, are supported by you; it seems to you that you have to go on for our sakes, and believe me I fully understand that, or at least can understand it to a very great extent."

Context:
BVG 339b, 11/8/1883: "Well, dear fellow, what I advise you is something quite new. Foi de charbonnier in art, instead of saying (and to me it is twaddle), I can't do anything, I am not an artist, do not attribute qualities to me that I do not possess, and all that rubbish."
JLB 404, 11/8/1883: "Well, old chap, I'm advising you to do something altogether new. Collier's faith in art instead of saying (to me it's whining) I can't do anything, I'm not an artist, don't attribute qualities to me that I don't have, and all the rest of it." (Emphasis in original.)

Even when Vincent did not intend to address the potential problems of a return home, his discussions must have terrified Theo. Passages like this one, filled with anger and an aching to settle old scores, could only have reinforced Theo's opposition to Vincent's plan for Nuenen: " They'll have to understand one thing at home -- that, come what may, you and I will always have the same goal in view as we have now, namely to keep things going, not only ourselves but things in general. But that one path has been closed to us and we have to create a new one for ourselves, and for that we need them to keep quiet about it and not upset us, and on the contrary help us with it should that be needed. Our plan must be respected at home and not interfered with." (JLB 404, 11/8/1883; emphasis added.) 

Context:
JLB 394, 10/12/1883: "I broach this because I see that perhaps things will come to pass such that you must have your hands free, and if it might help for me to live at home for a while, I think that Pa and I would both have to reconcile ourselves to that immediately. Although if it isn't necessary -- so much the better." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 342, 11/26/1883: "As far as I am concerned, because the woman I was with is a thoroughly unhappy person, and so heavily burdened with a tainted past, two children, poverty, etc., etc., that, even if I found no good in her, I should not want to sever all ties, and I should not stop seeing her to please anybody, nor speaking to her nor writing to her, nor sending her a little money when I happen to have it. Let people think and say what they like about it, all right, I have long ceased to take it ill of them."
JLB 407, 11/26/1883: "As for me, precisely because the woman I was with is someone who is unhappy through and through and so heavily burdened with a bad name, 2 children, poverty &c., that, even if I thought she wasn't good, I wouldn't want to break all the ties, and I wouldn't let anyone stop me from seeing her, speaking to her, writing to her, sending her some money if I should have any. Let people think something of it or talk about it, fine, I've long since ceased even to take it amiss."

If it were not for the earlier mention in JLB 396, one would argue that Vincent has raised the idea of going to Paris as a straw man to persuade his brother that the best option is for him (Theo) to be a painter and come to Drenthe, otherwise he will have Vincent on his doorstep in Paris or making trouble for their parents in Nuenen. Vincent seems to confirm this reading in the very next sentence when he dismisses both Paris and Nuenen with the line: "But oh, I must tell you that I'm not even thinking about that now, I'm thinking about my present work, and also about the plan for you" (JLB 397, 10/16/1883). But Theo surprises him in his next letter, issuing a broad and, by all appearances, enthusiastic invitation for Vincent to come and live in Paris. "Well, now I come to what you write about me," Vincent replies, "I would certainly very much like to spend some time in Paris, because I believe I would get the friction with artists that I'll have to have at some point" (JLB 398, 10/22/1883). The phrasing suggests that this is the first time an invitation has been issued -- not earlier, prior to JLB 396.

That Theo would issue it at all may indicate how desperately he does not want Vincent to go home to Nuenen. The invitation is provisional, however, as it depends on Theo going ahead with a business venture that would provide Vincent employment and allow the two brothers to work together (a direct response to Vincent's plan for a joint painting enterprise on the heath, no doubt). Consequently, Vincent's expression of interest is also provisional: "I'd have no objections to a plan to come to Paris if you believed that it might do some good or was more appropriate for one reason or another" (JLB 398, 10/22/1883).

; The unexpected invitation briefly jolts Vincent into some rare, clear-eyed self-examination in the middle of his manic campaign. He foresees that he and Theo might have problems in a business together: "Well, I am not qualified to advise YOU about business; I've been out of it too long, and if I were to come back we should be in complete agreement about very many things" (ibid.; emphasis in original). And he even recognizes that having him in Paris might pose larger problems for Theo: "I would certainly very much like to spend some time in Paris," he writes, "Is it possible? It could be if it didn't constrain you too much ..." (ibid.; emphasis in original).

After this brief flirtation with reality, Vincent retreats again into self-justification and his delusional campaign for the heath: "here in this magnificent heathland, I don't have to tell you that I have absolutely no hankering for Paris, and I wouldn't give it a thought if your letter hadn't given cause to do so. And I simply say about this: if that's the way it turns out, fine, to Paris; if that's the way it turns out, fine, here in the peat fields. ... [But] should we be together in Paris for one reason or another, because there was no choice or it was more convenient, then I dare say to you even now: start drawing and I'll clarify the first principles for you." (ibid.)

The exact nature of Theo's proposed business venture is not clear. In late November, Vincent quotes Theo calling it "a new idea" and suggests it is more related to "the financial sphere" than to "the field of work or art" (JLB 407, 11/26/1883). It appears from Vincent's references that it was a "modern business" that involved "a good plant for reproduction," investors ("you say there's capital"), and directors ("the employers of that business are people who are serious ... their plan is to supply good things, to seek success in honesty") (JLB 398, 10/22/1883). Still, Vincent sees this competing enterprise as an impediment to his plans for Drenthe and he sites as a cautionary tale the history of the brothers' friend Elbert Wisselingh who left Goupil to work at the gallery of Daniel Cottier: "At Cottier's, however, Wisselingh clashed too much with his employer's character (although he never told me this, or anyone else); but I came to this conclusion myself a long time ago, and it's consistent with what Wisselingh said, 'I wasted my time at Cottier's'" (ibid.; emphasis in original). 

Context:
BVG 335, 10/22/1883: "I repeat, I think that there are things for me to learn in Paris as well as here on the moor; in the city, I should have an opportunity to learn from other people and to see what they are doing, and that is worth something; but working here, I think I can make progress even without seeing other painters."
JLB 398, 10/22/1883: "Again, I think that I'd be able to learn in Paris as well as here on the heath; in the city I'd have the opportunity to learn from other people and see what they were doing, and I'm by no means indifferent to that. For that matter, I think that I'd also make progress working here without seeing other painters."

Context:
BVG 342, 11/26/1883: "I should not have thought so if you had written: In the matter of printing I am on the trail of something, or -- I have discovered a number of energetic new artists, with whom I shall probably be able to do business, or something of the sort -- in short, if you had discovered something in the field of work or art, I should have thought it excellent, but -- the field of finance -- pardon my saying it -- it is too much in the air for my taste."
JLB 407, 11/26/1883: "I wouldn't have thought that if, say, you'd been able to write, I'm on to something in the sphere of printing, for instance, or -- I've discovered some bold new artists with whom I'll be able to do something -- in short, I'd have found anything you like in the field of work or art capital, but -- financial sphere -- I'm sorry -- it's too much up in the air for me."

Context:
JLB 400, 10/28/1883: "In the first place this is a great blow for you, something that causes you much inner pain. This isn't just a question of money, you have your heart in it, it's a heartache. You'll embark on a similar career with that heartache, perhaps with a similar result again. Look, can this be done?"

Context:
BVG 335, 10/22/1883: "But I need not tell you that here on this beautiful moor I haven't the slightest longing for Paris, and I wouldn't think about it at all if it hadn't been for your letter."
JLB 398, 10/22/1883: "But now, here in this magnificent heathland, I don't have to tell you that I have absolutely no hankering for Paris, and I wouldn't give it a thought if your letter hadn't given cause to do so" (emphasis in original).

Vincent's exact complaints about this letter, other than its restatement of Theo's refusal to join him in Drenthe, can be inferred from his immediate response and subsequent letters. First, Theo appears to have explicitly cut off any further discussion; Vincent refers to Theo's "idea of letting some time go by, then examining the question again from all sides" (ibid.). Second, Theo appears to have said or implied that Vincent's arguments were unrealistic -- perhaps to the point of delusional: "But I'm afraid you regard what I say as a trick of my imagination, my words as up in the air and without foundation" (ibid.). The patent truth of this accusation would have made it even more infuriating. Third, Theo may have accused his brother of confusing his own interests with Theo's, an accusation that questioned Vincent's moral as well as his mental compass. Vincent refutes that accusation in a subsequent letter: "do you believe that I'm not confusing the things that concern you with my own affairs, as being in a sense dependent on yours?" (JLB 407, 11/26/1883). Finally, Vincent quotes a passage from Theo's letter that clearly rankles: "You say ... just you think again about whether there isn't also a lot to be said for staying at G&Cie" (JLB 406, 11/12/1883 or 11/13/1883; emphasis in original).

After all the time and energy Vincent has put into making contrary arguments, this statement sounds almost intentionally provocative -- as if Theo has dismissed Vincent's case without the careful consideration it deserves. Vincent erupts, matching his brother provocation for provocation, delusion for delusion: "Well, brother, I've already thought more about that question, both in the past and now, than I've written to you until now" (ibid.; emphasis added). It is this statement of Theo's that is the immediate trigger of Vincent's threat to stop taking his brother's money. 

Context:
BVG 342, 11/26/1883: "And so this would be a confirmation of your words to me: 'I believe that for the present things will remain as they are.'"
JLB 407, 11/26/1883: "And that this, then, would be a confirmation of your words to me, 'I think that things will stay as they are for the time being.'"

Context:
BVG 341, 11/12/1883-11/13/1883: "And though I hope we shall remain as true friends as ever, and shall always feel our brotherhood tie, I repeat, it is my intention to refuse your financial help as soon as you bind yourself to Goupil & Co. for good, because I am sure you would regret such a decision in the end, and it would put you in a position of which you might say, I wish I had never accepted it; and at the same time you would think, Then why did my brother and my parents drive me into it?"
JLB 406, 11/12/1883 or 11/13/1883: "And although I hope that we'd remain just as good friends and always feel that we're brothers, I repeat, it is my intention to refuse your financial help as soon as you bind yourself to G&Cie permanently, because I would regard such a decision as being one that you'd regret in the end, and put you in a position where you might say: I wish I'd never got into it, and then you would also think: why did my brother, my parents bring me to this at the time." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 341, 11/17/1883: "In short, I don't want my needs to be a reason for your staying; if you want to stay, do so, but not for my sake, as I think it decidedly not the right road for you."
JLB 406, 11/12/1883 or 11/13/1883: "Enough, I don't want my needs to be pressing reasons for you to stay; if you want to stay, stay; but not for my sake, as I'll only too decidedly not think it your best way" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 406, 11/12/1883 or 11/13/1883: "In that case, though, I would expressly want to put myself in a tremendous predicament so as to force me to be productive, and myself request that the present payment should stop" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 341, 11/12/1883-11/13/1883: "No, I am well aware it had no market value, but my idea is that I want to work without any more protection than others have, and I shall throw myself into it headlong, not because I think I have arrived, but because I believe: 'Je grandirai dans la tempête.' [I shall grow in the tempest.]"
JLB 406, 11/12/1883 or 11/13/1883: "No, I don't, for example, attach any market value to it, but my idea is that I want to work without more protection than other people have, and so I'll throw myself into it not because I'm already there now, but because I believe 'I will mature in the storm'" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 341, 11/12/1883-11/13/1883: "... my intention for the future is fixed: if you stay with Goupil, this will push me straightway to the decision mentioned above, though our friendship will of course remain, unless you should object to having anything to do with me."
JLB 406, 11/12/1883 or 11/13/1883: "… my intention for the future is fixed; if you stay at G&Cie it's precisely what will force me to take the decision stated above, although our friendship will always endure in any event, unless you should object to having anything to do with me."

Context:
JLB 406, 11/12/1883 or 11/13/1883: "What would I do then? Well, for instance try to get a job on an illustrated magazine, or in short do whatever turned up, no matter what."

Context:
BVG 341, 11/12/1883-11/13/1883: "And, for myself, I think Paris enervating, and I see no good in living there permanently, neither for myself nor for you."
JLB 406, 11/12/1883 or 11/13/1883: "And for my part I regard Paris as enervating, and I would see no benefit in being there for good, either for me or for you."

Context:
BVG 341, 11/12/1883-11/13/1883: "Now I am sending you today six studies; be so kind as to show them to him someday, as a small sign of life, though of course I do not suppose they will be considered saleable."
JLB 406, 11/12/1883 or 11/13/1883: "I'm sending 6 studies off today; would you be so good as to show them to him when you get a chance, by way of a small sign of life? Though of course I don't think that they'd be suitable for selling."

Context:
BVG 341, 11/12/1883-11/13/1883: "Now I am sending you today six studies; be so kind as to show them to him someday, as a small sign of life, though of course I do not suppose they will be considered saleable."
JLB 406, 11/12/1883 or 11/13/1883: "I'm sending 6 studies off today; would you be so good as to show them to him when you get a chance, by way of a small sign of life? Though of course I don't think that they'd be suitable for selling."

Context:
BVG 341, 11/17/1883: " Please don't take what I tell you amiss, as if I should have a personal grudge against you if you stayed on, for even then I approve of you as you are."
JLB 406, 11/12/1883 or 11/13/1883: " Don't take what I say amiss, will you; as if I had something personal against you should you stay. Because even then I'll consider you good the way you are."

Context:
BVG 343, 12/1/1883: "But know this, brother, that I am absolutely cut off from the outer world -- except from you -- so that it made me crazy when your letter did not come."
JLB 408, 12/1/1883: "Be aware of this, though, brother, that I'm absolutely cut off from the outside world -- except for you -- so that for me it was enough to make me crazy when your letter didn't come" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 407, 11/26/1883: "Don't regard this letter or previous letters as mistrustful, as suspicious, as insulting, regard them as a warning about some Parisian things that I ask you to consider, not as if I were infallible, not as if I'd demand that you agree with me -- but because I believe I detect certain symptoms that seem to me to be of a puzzling and ominous nature."

Context:
BVG 342, 11/26/1883: " Difference of opinion, difference in view of life, difference of principles, suppose they might show themselves later on -- they haven't so far -- are for me no reason to overlook the fact that we are brothers, and that we agree on many points. I just emphasize this to our mutual reassurance I hope. You are free, I am free, to act as it seems most reasonable to us, aren't we? And if one always takes this for granted, that one must not blame the other or become hostile, or spiteful, or throw obstacles in each other's way because of a possible difference of opinion -- then, though there may come a time of greater coolness, things will, thank God, remain free from fanaticism or intrigue."
JLB 407, 11/26/1883: " Difference of perspective, difference of outlook on life, difference even of principles (supposing they might become apparent to us later -- now they have not yet become so apparent) are still no reason for me to ignore what is a fact, namely that we're brothers and have many points in common. I stress this here above all for our mutual reassurance, I hope. You have your freedom, I have my freedom, to act as appears the most reasonable to us, haven't we? And provided one always keeps this in the forefront -- that one doesn't blame the other or is hostile or becomes malicious, or makes the other's life difficult on account of some difference of opinion -- although there may be a time of greater coolness, at least things will, thank God, remain free of fantasy or intrigue." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 394, 10/12/1883: "I would be very pleased if your relationship with Marie were to be put on a firmer footing; in other words a formal engagement if possible."

Context:
JLB 400, 10/28/1883: "In my view, the whole plan [for Drenthe] would gain immeasurably if it could be linked to your remaining with the woman you're with. ... If you were to talk to people about it, I think they'd all advise against it &c. Perhaps only the woman you're with wouldn't."

Context:
BVG 336, 10/28/1883: "And in this case, if persons of the same sentiment, persons who have the same pretty serious misery, combine to see things through, what I say is, the more the merrier."
JLB 400, 10/28/1883: "And in this case, if people of the same sentiment, people in the same rather serious misfortune, should join forces to see it through together, I say the more the merrier."

Context:
JLB 400, 10/28/1883: "If the woman came, of course she'd have to paint too."

Context:
BVG 342, 11/26/1883: "In short, the core of many matters is -- this woman of yours, is she good? Is she honest?"
JLB 407, 11/26/1883: "In short, the crux of a great deal is -- this woman of yours, is she good? Is she sincere?"

Context:
BVG 342, 11/26/1883: "Macbeth was an honest man, but ... but he was enchanted, and when he and she awoke from the bewitchment, they were facing more and worse wickedness than they had intended. And Macbeth fell -- he had a big fall."
JLB 407, 11/26/1883: "Macbeth was an honest man, but -- -- -- -- but -- was enchanted, and when he and she woke up, was faced with more and worse evil than had been their intention. And Macbeth fell -- but with a great fall." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 342, 11/26/1883: "Suppose what I will call -- excuse the expression -- the poison of the Parisian atmosphere -- the Jesuitism of its vapours -- slowly but surely penetrates your pores -- imperceptibly to yourself -- yet the result would be that after some years you would become aware of it yourself -- I am driven from the right course, I have turned too insincere, I am too little myself. I have indulged too much in pursuing prosperity."
JLB 407, 11/26/1883: "Suppose that what I'll call -- forgive the expression -- poison in the Paris atmosphere -- the Jesuitism of its miasma -- seeps insidiously into your pores -- imperceptible to you -- but nevertheless you'll begin to notice its effect yourself in a few years -- I've strayed from the course -- I'm too insincere, have become too little myself, and I've yielded too much to just seeking prosperity" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 342, 11/26/1883: "I do not say I am sure that I myself always have this mental energy, so I do not speak for myself but of another person out of the remote past. It is said that when he felt he was on enchanted ground and in an enchanted atmosphere, when he perceived that he was being unnerved, he resolutely left the island on a timber beam or a raft, and ventured on the high seas, thinking, the sea is less dangerous than this. And in my opinion this man was almighty wise."
JLB 407, 11/26/1883: "I don't say that I know that I would always have that strength of mind, so I don't speak of myself but of a person from the distant past. He, so they say, when he felt that he was on enchanted ground in an enchanted atmosphere, where he felt he was being enervated, resolutely ventured from the island in question, on a beam or raft, into the open sea, thinking: the sea isn't as dangerous as this and that. And in my view that man was very wise." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 342, 11/26/1883: "Is she modest, does she stand on common ground, or are there some little weeds of a somewhat dangerous craving for what I will call 'greatness' among her wheat?"
JLB 407, 11/26/1883: "Is she simple, does she stand on the ordinary ground, or is there a little weed of a rather dangerous desire for what I'll call greatness running through her wheat?" (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 407, 11/26/1883: "Macbeth was an honest man, but -- but -- was enchanted, and when he and she woke up, was faced with more and worse evil than had been their intention. And Macbeth fell -- but with a great fall." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 407, 11/26/1883: "Macbeth was an honest man, but -- -- -- -- but -- was enchanted, and when he and she woke up, was faced with more and worse evil than had been their intention. And Macbeth fell -- but with a great fall." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 342, 11/26/1883: "But look here, in your case there might exist the influence of a charm that has the power to benumb certain strings of the heart, the sense of right and wrong."
JLB 407, 11/26/1883: "But look here; in your case charm could perhaps have the effect of numbing very important heartstrings, those governing the sense of right and wrong" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 413, 12/15/1883: "Send me the usual by return, if you can, then I won't have to ask Pa for anything when I leave, which I ought to do as soon as possible. I gave the whole of the 23.80 guilders of 1 Dec. to Pa" (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 343, 12/1/1883: "If you stay because you 'take renewed pleasure in it,' all right then, and I congratulate you on your newly rigged ship, though I for my part do not want to go back to it."
JLB 408, 12/1/1883: "If you stay there because 'you have a renewed pleasure in it' -- it's all to the good as far as I'm concerned, and I congratulate you on your newly rigged ship, although for myself I have no desire to go back."

Context:
JLB 408, 12/1/1883: "Your letter explains your silence to me. You thought that 'feeling that I was flush', I was giving you an 'ultimatum' -- in the way -- similar -- that the nihilists, say, might send them to the Tsar." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 343, 12/1/1883: "However, I understand your idea now that I know it, but it is indeed the last straw."
JLB 408, 12/1/1883: "However, I do understand your interpretation now that I know what it is, but I had to know."

Context:
JLB 408, 12/1/1883: "I'll be able to write to you more calmly from home."

Context:
JLB 413, 12/15/1883: "I paid for the journey myself and also paid myself for the clothes that Pa bought because mine weren't good enough."

Context:
JLB 409, 12/6/1883: "The last 3 weeks I was actually rather unwell -- was troubled by various things that arose out of having caught a cold, and nerves as well."

Context:
BVG 343, 12/1/1883: "I say loneliness, and not solitude, but that loneliness -- which a painter has to bear, whom everybody in such isolated areas regards as a lunatic, a murderer, a tramp, etc. etc."
JLB 408, 12/1/1883: "I say loneliness and not even in peace -- but that loneliness which a painter in an isolated region encounters when every Tom, Dick and Harry takes him to be a madman -- a murderer -- a vagabond &c. &c" (emphasis in original).

Context:
JLB 409, 12/6/1883: "My journey began with a good six-hour walk across the heath -- to Hoogeveen."

Context:
JLB 409, 12/6/1883: "My journey began with a good six-hour walk across the heath -- to Hoogeveen. On a stormy afternoon in rain and snow."

Context:
JLB 409, 12/6/1883: "I thought of you brother, on my long trudge across the heath on that stormy evening. I thought of a passage, I don't know which book it's from, two eyes awake, brightened by genuine tears ... these eyes of mine, here on this gloomy evening, awake here in the solitude, if there have been tears in them from time to time, why should they not have been wrung from me by such sorrow that it disenchants -- yes -- and banishes illusions -- but at the same time -- awakens one?" (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 409, 12/6/1883: "I thought of you brother, on my long trudge across the heath on that stormy evening."

Context:
JLB 408, 12/1/1883: "So even my letter on the subject was meant like this: brother, you seem to abandon me without warning; if you did this on purpose it would be treachery in my view, but I CAN not think that, so 'explain it to me' -- no more nor less than this was behind that, and as to what I said about Lady Macbeth, you've interpreted it correctly, as a hint in general that was not even a question but only to make you feel: either it has to be like this or it is a misunderstanding" (emphasis in original).

He makes the same claim of being misunderstood in regard to his accusations against Marie. There, his retraction is especially inadequate: "as far as Marie is concerned before I ever received your letter, simply because I remembered what you wrote to me in the past about your meeting with her and thought, that has to be all right, that can't be what's wrong" (ibid., emphasis in original). Basically, Vincent is saying that, before he received Theo's response, he realized that his accusations couldn't possibly be true because he suddenly recalled the circumstances of their meeting. Still, he feels called upon to do some furious back-pedaling: "So even my letter on the subject was meant like this: brother, you seem to abandon me without warning; if you did this on purpose it would be treachery in my view, but I CAN not think that, so 'explain it to me' -- no more nor less than this was behind that, and as to what I said about Lady Macbeth, you've interpreted it correctly, as a hint in general that was not even a question but only to make you feel: either it has to be like this or it is a misunderstanding" (ibid., emphasis in original). This is an exaggerated example of a situation in which Vincent often finds himself as a result of his tendency to say whatever is on his mind: he is forever trying to "un-say" things, often by arguing that he never intended to say them. He tries that here: "As to 'I wouldn't want to flourish if someone else had to wither in consequence', I hope that I would say this -- which lay in what you conceived to be an ultimatum -- whether I was 'flush' OR in 'agony'. ... it must have been in the way I expressed it, for it was certainly not what I felt." (ibid., emphasis in original.)

But Vincent's obstreperousness comes through even in concession, as in this example in the same letter: "if your rigged ship is sound, very well, then stay on it," he says, in an apparent concession, but then follows it with a reassertion of the rightness of his position: "However I'll always maintain what I said should a calamity put you in a different position in relation to society. Were that ever to happen, I say in that regard: let it be a sign for you to make a complete change of profession, rather than starting all over again doing the same thing." (ibid., emphasis in original.) When he is cornered, as he is here, Vincent counterattacks. First, strangely, he argues that Theo insulted him by leaving him out of a list of Theo's dependents ("Tact on your part not to mention me, to which I had to respond with tact on my part"), and then he works himself into indignation for Theo's use of the word "ultimatum" -- a word that he, Vincent, had carefully avoided (ibid.). "Ultimatum -- YOU speak of it -- NOT I (at least my intention was something very different) -- if you want to interpret it that way -- then it's all right with me, but I shall not be the first -- nor have I been -- for the moment your interpretation runs very far ahead of my intention. I would perhaps not contradict you any more than I did G&Cie in the past, if you wanted to carry it through. Then I would say again, you said ultimatum first, NOT I. If you want to interpret it thus, then I don't oppose this interpretation." (ibid., emphasis in original.) By this sleight of hand, Vincent transforms himself into the offended party and then graciously chooses to forgive his brother the offense, closing his letter with this blameless benediction: "Brother -- after your last letter all my worst vague anxieties have been quieted -- I mean that I have complete confidence in you as a man and in Marie" (ibid.). 

Context:
BVG 347, 12/18/1883: "In the first years of hard struggling it may even be a sowing of tears, so be it, but we shall check them, and in the far distance we may have a little quiet hope of the harvest."
JLB 413, 12/15/1883: "In the early years of having things hard, it may be a sowing in tears, so be it, but we'll hold them in, and a long, long way off we feel a silent hope of the harvest."

Context:
BVG 344, 12/5/1883: "You will say, 'One gets used to everything'; or rather you will say, 'We must live on until our hearts break within us.'"
JLB 409, 12/6/1883: "You'll say, one can get used to anything, or rather you'll say, one must endure until the heart breaks in us."

Context:
BVG 343, 12/1/1883: "Such a man, who finally produces something poignant as the blossom of a hard, difficult life, is a wonder, like a black hawthorn, or better still, the gnarled old apple tree which at a certain moment bears blossoms which are among the most delicate and most virginal things under the sun."
JLB 408, 12/1/1883: "A man like that who eventually produces something heart-rending as blossom from a hard and difficult life is a phenomenon like the blackthorn, or better yet a gnarled old apple tree which suddenly bears blossoms that are among the tenderest and most ' pure' things under the sun" (emphasis in original).