Notes
Chapters
- A Fanatic Heart
- 27. Against the Grain
- 28. The Zemganno Brothers
- 29. Catch and Release
- 30. A Mercenary Frenzy
- 31. Le Paradou
- 32. The Sunflower and the Oleander
- 33. The Poet's Garden
- 34. Imaginary Savage
- 35. La Lutte
- 36. The Stranger
- 37. Two Roads
- 38. The Real South
- 39. Starry Night
- 40. The Isolated One
- 41. A Degenerate Child
- 42. The Garden and the Wheatfield
- 43. Illusions Fade, the Sublime Remains
- Ici Repose
The Early Years
The Dutch Years
The French Years
Chapters
Context:
JLB 801, 9/10/1889: "I reproach myself for my cowardice, I ought to have defended my studio better, even if I had to fight with those gendarmes and neighbours. Others in my position would have used a revolver, and indeed, had one killed onlookers like that as an artist one would have been acquitted. I would have done better in that case then, and now I was cowardly and drunk. Ill too, but I wasn't brave."
Context:
JLB 750, 3/19/1889: "How I'd like to be able to send you my canvases, but everything is under lock and key, police and keepers of the insane."
Context:
JLB 751, 3/22/1889: "All that I would ask is that people I don't even know by name (for they took great care to act so that I don't know who sent that document in question) don't meddle with me when I'm in the middle of painting, eating or sleeping or having a fuck in the brothel (not having a wife)."
"M. Mayor, We the undersigned residents of the city of Aries, Place Lamartine, have the honor of informing you that the Dutch subject named Vood (Vincent), landscape painter residing on the aforementioned square, has for some time and on several occasions furnished proof that he is not in full possession of his mental faculties and that he indulges in excessive drinking, after which he finds himself in such a state of excitement that he no longer knows either what he does or what he says, and that his instability causes fear for all the residents of the neighborhood, particularly for the women and children.
"In consequence, the undersigned have the honor of asking in the name of public security that the said Vood (Vincent) be returned to his family as soon as possible, or that his family take the steps necessary to have him admitted to a mental asylum, in order to prevent whatever misfortune which will certainly occur one day or another if vigorous measures are not taken.
"We dare to hope, M. Mayor, that, taking into consideration the serious concern that we are putting forward, you will be so kind as to take action in pursuance with our request. We have the honor of being, with the most profound respect, M. Mayor, your devoted constituents."
Context:
JLB 745, 2/3/1889: "But I can tell you this, that the original language from here in words sounds so musical in the mouths of the Arlésiennes that my word yes, from time to time I catch fragments of it."
Context:
BVG 577, 2/17/1889: "The unfortunate thing is that I am rather inclined to be affected by the beliefs of others, and to feel them myself, and I cannot always laugh at whatever foundation of truth there may be in the absurdity."
JLB 747, 2/18/1889: "The unfortunate thing is that I'm rather inclined to be impressed, to feel the beliefs of other people myself and not always to laugh at the foundation of truth that there may be in the absurd."
Context:
JLB 747, 2/18/1889: "Which proves that with a little firmness one can alter these prejudices, or at least do one's painting all the same."
Context:
JLB 738, 1/9/1889: "I've just been told that in my absence the owner of my house here apparently made a contract with a fellow who has a tobacco shop, to turn me out and give him, the tobacconist, the house."
Context:
BVG 579, 3/19/1889: "So you understand what a staggering blow between the eyes it was to find so many people here cowardly enough to join together against one man, and that man ill."
JLB 750, 3/19/1889: "So you can imagine how much of a hammer-blow full in the chest it was when I found out that there were so many people here who were cowardly enough to band themselves together against one man, and a sick one at that."
Context:
BVG 581, 3/24/1889: "That is enough to show you how meddlesome and what idiots these people are."
JLB 752, 3/24/1889: "That's enough to say what people meddle in and what idiots they are."
Context:
BVG 581, 3/24/1889: "Still, of course, if I had to endure my work and my private life being interfered with every day by gendarmes and poisonous idlers of municipal electors petitioning the Mayor whom they have elected and who consequently depends on their votes, it would be no more than human of me to relapse all over again."
JLB 752, 3/24/1889: "Of course, it's still the case that if things were to be messed up for me in my work and in my life every day by gendarmes and venomous layabouts of municipal electors who petition against me to their mayor elected by them (and who is consequently keen on their votes) it would be only human on my part that I should succumb once more."
Context:
BVG 580, 3/22/1889: "Now let us be as firm as possible and, in short, not let them tread too painfully on our toes. From the start I have been faced with very mischievous opposition here. All this stir will naturally be good for "impressionism," but you and I as individuals will suffer because of a pack of skunks and cowards."
JLB 751, 3/22/1889: "Now let's be as firm as possible, and in short not allow people to tread on our toes too much. Right from the beginning I had very malicious opposition here. All this fuss will naturally do good to 'Impressionism,' but you and I personally, we'll suffer for a bunch of bastards and cowards."
Circumstantial support for such a hearing can be found in the petition and police investigation report, which clearly unfolded over a period of time. The order to seize Vincent pursuant to the petition was executed on February 25. According to Salles, it was not until after Vincent was seized on that day that the police began interviewing the petitioners ("After his entry into the hospital, the superintendent of police has interviewed those who signed the petition" (b1048 V/1962, ''Salles, Frédéric'' to ''Gogh, Theo van'', 3/1/1889). The police investigation report was dated February 27, but the municipal authorities did not add their "conclusions" and approve the order to expel Vincent until March 3. Salles's letters to Theo from this crucial interval -- between February 27 and March 3 -- sound like a lawyer's brief, picking apart the case against his "client" Vincent: "I have read some of [the police investigation] and am of the opinion that exaggeration plays a part in it. It is clear, however, that as things stand the people are scared of your brother and have egged each other on. The things they accuse your brother of (assuming that they are true), do not justify declaring a man mad and claiming that he ought to be locked up." (ibid.)
Context:
JLB 768, 5/3/1889: "We can't do anything about it, but more than probably they'd refuse me there, at least here where my adventure is too well known, and above all exaggerated."
Context:
JLB 750, 3/19/1889: "I bluntly replied that I was entirely disposed to chuck myself into the water, for example, if that could make these virtuous fellows happy once and for all, but that in any case if in fact I had wounded myself I had done nothing of the sort to these people &c."
Context:
BVG 605, 9/7/1889-9/8/1889: "Others would have used a revolver in my place, and had one killed gawking idiots like that, as an artist one would certainly have been acquitted. It would have been better had I done that."
JLB 801, 9/10/1889: "Others in my position would have used a revolver, and indeed, had one killed onlookers like that as an artist one would have been acquitted. I would have done better in that case then."
Context:
JLB 750, 3/19/1889: "If these fellows here protest against me, I protest against them, and they just have to provide me with damages and interest in a friendly way, in short they just have to give me back what I would lose by their fault and ignorance."
Context:
JLB 752, 3/24/1889: "Must I suffer imprisonment or the madhouse -- why not? Didn't [Victor Henri Marquis de] Rochefort[-Luçay] with [Victor] Hugo, [Edgar] Quinet and others give an eternal example by suffering exile, and the first even the penal colony. But all I want to say is that this is above the question of sickness and health."
Context:
BVG 580, 3/22/1889: "From the start I have been faced with very mischievous opposition here. All this stir will naturally be good for "impressionism," but you and I as individuals will suffer because of a pack of skunks and cowards."
JLB 751, 3/22/1889: "Right from the beginning I had very malicious opposition here. All this fuss will naturally do good to 'Impressionism,' but you and I personally, we'll suffer for a bunch of bastards and cowards."
Context:
BVG 581, 3/24/1889: "Am I to suffer imprisonment or the madhouse? Why not? Didn't Rochefort and Hugo, Quinet and others give an eternal example by submitting to exile, and the first even to a convict prison?"
JLB 752, 3/24/1889: "Must I suffer imprisonment or the madhouse -- why not? Didn't Rochefort with Hugo, Quinet and others give an eternal example by suffering exile, and the first even the penal colony."
Context:
BVG 581, 3/24/1889: "Naturally one is beside oneself in parallel cases. I do not say equivalent, being in a very inferior and secondary place to theirs, but I do say parallel. And that is what the first and last cause of my aberration was."
JLB 752, 3/24/1889: "Naturally one is beside oneself in parallel cases -- I don't say equivalent cases, as I have only a very inferior and secondary place -- but I say parallel. And that was the first and last cause of my going out of my mind."
Context:
BVG 581, 3/24/1889: "And that after all, an artist is a man with his work to do, and it is not for the first idler who comes along to crush him for good."
JLB 752, 3/24/1889: "That, after all, the artist is a man at work, and that it's not for the first passer-by who comes along to vanquish him once and for all."
Context:
BVG 580, 3/22/1889: " All this stir will naturally be good for 'impressionism,' but you and I as individuals will suffer because of a pack of skunks and cowards."
JLB 751, 3/22/1889: " All this fuss will naturally do good to 'Impressionism,' but you and I personally, we'll suffer for a bunch of bastards and cowards."
Context:
JLB 752, 3/24/1889: "It's still the case that if things were to be messed up for me in my work and in my life every day by gendarmes and venomous layabouts of municipal electors who petition against me to their mayor elected by them (and who is consequently keen on their votes) it would be only human on my part that I should succumb once more."
Context:
BVG 579, 3/19/1889: "Here I am, shut up in a cell all the livelong day, under lock and key and with keepers, without my guilt being proved or even open to proof."
JLB 750, 3/19/1889: "Anyway, here I am, shut up for long days under lock and key and with warders in the isolation cell, without my culpability being proven or even provable."
Context:
BVG 579, 3/19/1889: "Only to let you know that as for setting me free -- mind, I do not ask it, being persuaded that the whole accusation will be reduced to nothing -- but I do say that as for getting me freed, you would find it difficult. If I did not restrain my indignation, I should at once be thought a dangerous lunatic."
JLB 750, 3/19/1889: "Only to warn you: to free me -- first I don't ask it, being sure that all of this accusation will be reduced to nothing. Only I say to you, you would find it difficult to free me. If I didn't restrain my indignation I would immediately be judged to be a dangerous madman."
Context:
JLB 750, 3/19/1889: "Having nothing else to distract me -- I'm even forbidden to smoke -- which, however, the other patients are allowed to do."
Context:
JLB 752, 3/24/1889: "I took advantage of my trip out to buy a book, Ceux de la glèbe by Camille Lemonnier. I've devoured two chapters of it -- it's so serious, so profound. Wait for me to send it to you. This is the first time for several months that I've picked up a book."
Context:
JLB 750, 3/19/1889: "If -- let's say -- I were to become definitively insane -- certainly I don't say that it's impossible, in any case they should treat me differently, give me back the fresh air, my work &c."
Context:
BVG 580, 3/22/1889: "As far as I can judge, I am not properly speaking a madman. You will see that the canvases I have done in the intervals are steady and not inferior to the others. I miss the work more than it tires me."
JLB 751, 3/22/1889: "As far as I can judge I'm not mad, strictly speaking. You'll see that the canvases I've done in the intervals are calm and not inferior to others. I miss work rather than it tires me." (Emphasis in original.)
Context:
BVG 576, 2/3/1889: As far as work is concerned, this month hasn't been bad on the whole, and as the work takes my mind off things, or rather keeps me in order, I don't deprive myself of it.
JLB 745, 2/3/1889: "As for work, the month hasn't been bad after all, and the work distracts me, or rather keeps me in order, so I don't deprive myself of it."
This passage suggests that even if Theo did write, which we do not know that he did, his letters might not have been given to Vincent because of either perceived volatility or inaccessibility. There is a hint of an interim letter that met such a fate in this passage from the letter that Vincent wrote immediately in response to JLB 749, 3/16/1889: "I have a vague memory of a registered letter from you for which I was made to sign but which I didn't want to accept because they were making such a fuss for the signature, and of which I've since had no more news" (JLB 750, 3/19/1889). In the same letter, Vincent asks Theo, "How are Mother and our sister?" suggesting either that they had not written in the previous month or that their letters had not found their way to him. The thrust of the text, of course, is not that no one wrote Vincent, but that, for whatever reasons, Vincent heard from no one during his month of solitude.
Context:
JLB 751, 3/22/1889: "Mr. Salles is very kind and very loyal, and it's a happy contrast with others here."
Context:
BVG W11, 4/30/1889: "I feel I am less brave than you, when I think of such things, for I feel clumsy, unwieldy, awkward in their presence. If my memory does not deceive me, we have a Dutch proverb bearing on this -- They are not the worst fruits that wasps gnaw at …"
JLB 764, 4/28/1889-5/2/1889: "I feel less brave than you when I think of these things, feeling awkward, heavy and clumsy in them. We have, if my memory serves, a Dutch proverb to this effect: they aren't the worst fruits that wasps gnaw at ... "
Context:
JLB 750, 3/19/1889: "In waiting let us hope, besides, strong emotions could only aggravate my state. Consider yourself warned that it would perhaps complicate and confuse the matter. All the more so since you'll understand that while I'm absolutely calm at the given moment, I may easily fall back into a state of over-excitement through new moral emotions."
Context:
BVG 582, 3/29/1889: "These last three months do seem so strange to me. Sometimes moods of indescribable mental anguish, sometimes moments when the veil of time and the fatality of circumstances seemed to be torn apart for an instant."
JLB 753, 3/29/1889: "How strange these last three months appear to me. Sometimes nameless moral anguish, then moments when the veil of time and of the inevitability of circumstances seemed to open up a little way for the space of a blink of an eye."
Context:
BVG 588, 4/30/1889: "I was fighting a losing battle, or rather it was weakness of character on my part, for I am left with feelings of deep remorse about it, difficult to describe. I think that was the reason I cried out so much during the attacks -- I wanted to defend myself and couldn't do it."
JLB 765, 4/30/1889: "It was fighting against insurmountable odds, or rather it was weakness of character on my part, for I still have feelings of grave remorse difficult to define. I think that was the cause of my crying out so much during the crises, that I wanted to defend myself and could no longer manage to."
Context:
BVG 592, 5/22/1889: "At present this horror of life is already less pronounced, and the melancholy less acute. But I still have no will, and hardly any desires, or none at all that are to do with ordinary life, for example, almost no wish to see friends, although I do think of them. That is why I am not ready to leave here now or in the near future. I should feel depressed about everything again. And anyway, it is only recently that my loathing of life has been drastically changed. There is still a long way to go from that to willing and doing."
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "At present this horror of life is already less pronounced, and the melancholy less acute. But I still have absolutely no will, hardly any desires or none, and everything that has to do with ordinary life, the desire for example to see friends again, about whom I think however, almost nil. That's why I'm not yet at the point where I ought to leave here soon, I would still have melancholy for everything. And it's even only in these very last days that the repulsion for life has changed quite radically. There's still a way to go from there to will and action." (Emphasis in original.)
Context:
BVG 579, 3/19/1889: "Anyhow, here I am, shut up in a cell all the livelong day, under lock and key and with keepers, without my guilt being proved or even open to proof. Needless to say, in the secret tribunal of my soul I have much to reply to all that. Needless to say, I cannot be angry, and it seems to me a case of qui s'excuse s'accuse."
JLB 750, 3/19/1889: "Anyway, here I am, shut up for long days under lock and key and with warders in the isolation cell, without my culpability being proven or even provable. It goes without saying that in my heart of hearts I have a lot to say in reply to all that. It goes without saying that I shouldn't get angry, and that apologizing would seem to me to be accusing myself in such a case."
Context:
JLB 764, 4/28/1889-5/2/1889: "You don't know the reasonings of good père Pangloss in Voltaire's Candide, nor Flaubert's Bouvard et Pécuchet. These are books from man to man, and I don't know if women understand that. But the memory of that often sustains me in the uncomfortable and unenviable hours and days or nights."
Context:
JLB 750, 3/19/1889: "Having nothing else to distract me -- I'm even forbidden to smoke -- which, however, the other patients are allowed to do. Having nothing else to do I think about all those I know all day and night long."
Context:
JLB 768, 5/3/1889: "If I remain a painter, then sooner or later I'll probably see Paris again, and I firmly promise myself that I'll thoroughly touch up several old canvases on that occasion. If I hadn't been in such a hurry, if I'd kept my studio, this summer I would have worked again on all the canvases I've sent you. As long as the impasto isn't dry all the way through, naturally it can't be scraped."
Context:
BVG 580, 3/22/1889: "After all this for nothing, provided you go straight to your goal -- a secure home for you is a great gain for me too -- and that done, we can perhaps find another, more peaceful, way of settling things after your marriage."
JLB 751, 3/22/1889: "Anyway, all of that is nothing provided you walk straight towards your goal -- once your home is secured, there's a lot won for me too, and once that's done we can perhaps rediscover a more peaceful path after your marriage."
Context:
BVG 579, 3/19/1889: " It is a shame -- and all, so to speak, for nothing. I will not deny that I would rather have died than have caused and suffered such trouble."
JLB 750, 3/19/1889: " What misery -- and all of it, so to speak, for nothing. I won't hide from you that I would have preferred to die than to cause and bear so much trouble."
Theo goes on at great length to justify his reluctance to bring Vincent home, citing everything from his unconventional "style of dress and demeanor" to his bad reputation in Paris to his difficult personality. ("[H]e leaves his own imprint wherever he goes. He is unable not to remark on things he sees that are not as they ought to be, and this often sows conflict.") Theo ends with this pathetic, delusional attempt to reconcile his own prospect of marital bliss with Vincent's endless drain on his attention and spirits: "What I hope [Vincent] will still find one day is a woman who loves him so much that she will want to live with him." But Theo can only sustain this resolution by resorting to fiction: "Do you remember that woman in [Ivan] Turgenev's Terre vierge [Virgin Soil], who got involved with the nihilists & took the compro¬mising documents across borders? That's the sort of woman I imagine. Someone who has herself experienced the very depths of life's misery & has come to the conclusion that the unhappiest people are nevertheless the best company." (ibid.) (Jansen and Robert identify the Turgenev character as Marianna [Jansen and Robert, p. 161; n. 6].) And even this dark letter, one of the few in which the subject of Vincent predominates, ends with family chatter (about none other than Kee Vos, Vincent's former inamorata, whom Jo had just met) and epistolary canoodling ("Goodbye, my sweet little wife, I shall write again soon ... with a kiss from your Theo") and a postscript about the Monet show.
Context:
BVG 577, 2/17/1889: "But in my character as a painter and a workman it is not permissible for anyone, not even you or a doctor, to take such a step without warning me and consulting me about it, also because since up till now I have always kept a comparative presence of mind in my work, I should have the right to say (or at least to have an opinion on) whether it would be better to keep my studio here or to move to Aix altogether."
JLB 747, 2/18/1889: "But in my capacity as painter and workman it isn't permissible for anyone, not even you or the doctor, to take such a course of action without warning me and consulting me myself about it too, because as up to now I've always kept my relative presence of mind for my work, it's my right to say then (or at least to have an opinion on) what would be best, to keep my studio here or to move completely to Aix" (emphasis in original).
Context:
JLB 743, 1/28/1889: "Let me quietly continue my work, if it's that of a madman, well, too bad."
Yet, in his letters to Jo throughout this period, Theo continues to claim that the doctors are uncertain about how best to deal with Vincent's problem. In late February, he belatedly reports his dilemma but poses it as if it had just emerged: "This time a decision has to be taken about him being committed to an asylum, either in Aix or somewhere near here" (b2040 V/1982, ''Gogh, Theo van'' to ''Bonger, Jo'', 2/27/1889). "I'm curious to hear what the doctors in Arles decide" (b2041 V/1982, ''Gogh, Theo van'' to ''Bonger, Jo'', 2/28/1889). The thrust of Theo's narrative is always that he is waiting for the doctors' decision when, in fact, the doctors have been waiting for months for his decision. Finally, in mid-March, on the eve of his departure for Holland, he tells Jo the truth as if he had just discovered it: "They [i.e., the doctors] evidently don't want to take a decision without my stating explicitly that I wish him to be committed to an asylum. This responsibility is a heavy burden." (b2050 V/1982, ''Gogh, Theo van'' to ''Bonger, Jo'', 3/16/1889.) But he responds by immediately throwing the burden back at them: "I wrote saying I would consent if the doctors considered it beneficial" (ibid.). He does give Jo a glimpse of the reason he has resisted making a decision for so long: "it's harrowing to think of him being in an institution when the spring comes, with high walls all around and no one but lunatics for company" (ibid.). But, of course, spring was never the issue. He had been delaying the decision since December because Paris was the last place he wanted his brother. Theo inadvertently revealed his reasons in a letter to Jo in February: "it would be more difficult if he were here than somewhere else to persuade him to be nursed in hospital" (b2009 V/1982, ''Gogh, Theo van'' to ''Bonger, Jo'', 2/9/1889). In other words, if Vincent were in Paris, he would never stay in an asylum; he would inevitably come to live with them. That prospect was unacceptable, but saying so explicitly -- to Jo, to the doctors, or to Vincent -- was impossible.
Context:
JLB 750, 3/19/1889: "Besides, I told them that we weren't in a position to bear expenses. I can't move without expenses, now I haven't been working for 3 months, and mind you, I would have been able to work if they hadn't exasperated and bothered me."
Context:
JLB 743, 1/28/1889: "… if it isn't absolutely necessary to shut me away in a madhouse then I'm still good for paying what I can be considered to owe, at least in goods."
Theo's reading of his brother's likely reaction may be accurate. Vincent would no doubt have been deeply ambivalent about taking money from his sisters, whose marriage prospects obsessed him as much as they did Theo, and about taking his dead father's legacy, which he probably would have seen as an admission of guilt. Not just guilt for having cost his parents more money in schooling than the others -- as Theo's gilding would have it -- but guilt for having killed his father, the accusation that their sister Anna leveled at him at the time and, no doubt, still harbored. (See Chapter 23; for more on Vincent's renounced inheritance, see Chapter 24, n. 467.) It stretches the bounds of speculation beyond the breaking point to wonder if Vincent might also have been heartened by the demonstration of love and support from his sisters that their offer represented. In the event, as far as we know, Theo never told him about it. Theo did, however, write Jo about his sisters' offer and, without specifying why, located the center of family animus toward Vincent in his sister Anna: "I received a letter from Jo & Anna this week about money the girls wish to give Vincent. You've probably heard about it -- if not, I shall tell you the whole story. It would have been better if they had done earlier what they want to do now, but misunderstandings are pernicious. They are the cause, in this case, rather than that anyone let him down, because what they did was with the best of intentions. Anna is the only one who was sometimes harsh but then she also had a husband & children, to whom I believe she's very good. This does not excuse her, but it is a mitigating circumstance." (b2045 V/1982, ''Gogh, Theo van'' to ''Bonger, Jo'', 3/10/1889.) This was no doubt true, but Theo chose not to tell Jo that Anna offered to make a contribution to Vincent's "nursing" fund, as did Vincent's mother, and Theo apparently talked them both out of doing so (see Ch. 38, n. 165). This would have spoiled his neat narrative of the younger siblings "returning" money that rightfully belonged to Vincent.
Context:
JLB 767, 5/2/1889: "For bear it firmly in mind, continuing to spend money on this painting when things could come to the point where there was a lack of money for housekeeping, that's atrocious, and you're sufficiently aware that the chance of succeeding is abominable. Besides, it has struck me so much that it's such a force majeure that has frustrated me. Besides, in the future there would possibly be our sisters too for whom we should try to provide." (Emphasis in original.)
Context:
JLB 748, 2/25/1889: "You're really kind to say that I could come to Paris, but I think that the bustle of a big city will never be worth anything to me. More soon."
Context:
JLB 748, 2/25/1889: "You're really kind to say that I could come to Paris, but I think that the bustle of a big city will never be worth anything to me."
Context:
JLB 747, 2/18/1889: "Koning has written me a very kind letter, saying that he and a friend would probably come to the south with me for a long time."
Context:
JLB 747, 2/18/1889: "I no longer dare to urge painters to come here after what has happened to me, they run the risk of losing their heads like me."
Context:
JLB 752, 3/24/1889: "I'm writing to tell you that I've seen Signac, which did me a lot of good. He was very nice and very straight and very simple when the difficulty arose of whether or not to force open the door closed by the police, who had demolished the lock. They began by not wanting to let us do it, and yet in the end we got in."
Context:
JLB 752, 3/24/1889: "I'm writing to tell you that I've seen Signac, which did me a lot of good. He was very nice and very straight and very simple when the difficulty arose of whether or not to force open the door closed by the police, who had demolished the lock. They began by not wanting to let us do it, and yet in the end we got in."
Context:
JLB 752, 3/24/1889: "I'm writing to tell you that I've seen Signac, which did me a lot of good. He was very nice and very straight and very simple when the difficulty arose of whether or not to force open the door closed by the police, who had demolished the lock. They began by not wanting to let us do it, and yet in the end we got in."
Context:
BVG 581, 3/24/1889: "I am writing to tell you that I have seen Signac, and it has done me quite a lot of good. He was so good and straightforward and simple when the difficulty of opening the door by force or not presented itself -- the police had closed up the house and destroyed the lock. They began by refusing to let us do it, but all the same we finally got in."
JLB 752, 3/24/1889: "I'm writing to tell you that I've seen Signac, which did me a lot of good. He was very nice and very straight and very simple when the difficulty arose of whether or not to force open the door closed by the police, who had demolished the lock. They began by not wanting to let us do it, and yet in the end we got in."
Context:
BVG 581, 3/24/1889: " I found Signac very quiet, though he is said to be so violent; he gave me the impression of someone who has balance and poise, that is all."
JLB 752, 3/24/1889: " I find Signac very calm, whereas people say he's so violent, he gives me the impression of someone who has his self-confidence and balance, that's all."
BVG 581, 3/24/1889. This showing of Vincent's work sounds far less comprehensive than the one Signac recalled thirty-four years later to Gustave Coquiot: "He took me to his lodgings at the Place Lamartine, where I saw the marvelous paintings, his masterpieces: Les Alyscamps [which could have been any one of the four works of the same name: (F 486 JH 1620), (F 487 JH 1621), (F 568 JH 1622), or (F 569 JH 1623); The Night Café [F 463 JH 1575]; La Berceuse [F 504 JH 1655]; The Drawbridge [possibly F 210 JH 947]; the Saintes-Maries [F 416 JH 1447]; The Starry Night [F 612 JH 1731]; etc. Imagine the splendor of those whitewashed walls from which these colors radiated in all their freshness!" (Signac and Van Gogh, "On Signac's Visit to Arles, in Stein, ed., p. 146). At the time, in his report to Theo immediately afterward, Signac wrote a far less specific and less appreciative summary of his tour of Vincent's studio: "He took me along to see his pictures, many of which are very good, and all of which are very curious" (Signac to Theo, BVG 581a, 3/26/1889).
Context:
JLB 752, 3/24/1889: "In fact there are several canvases to send to you, as Signac was able to see -- he wasn't frightened by my painting, or so it seemed to me."
Context:
JLB 752, 3/24/1889: "As a keepsake I gave him a still life which had exasperated the good gendarmes of the town of Arles because it depicted two smoked herrings, which are called gendarmes, as you know."
Context:
JLB 752, 3/24/1889: "Rarely or never have I had a conversation with an Impressionist that was so free of disagreements or annoying shocks on either side."
There are many reasons to doubt the thoroughness and reliability of the picture Signac's letter paints, as we do: (1) Vincent's immediately subsequent history shows that Signac's report that Vincent was "in perfect health, physically and mentally" was wildly mistaken. (2) Vincent himself, in a letter to Signac soon after the visit, admits that he was drinking and that he was still racked by "inner despairs of quite a large calibre" (JLB 756, 4/10/1889). Neither of these highly pertinent facts found their way into Signac's report to Theo. (3) Signac's later account (1923), although hardly reliable in its particulars, paints a completely different picture of Vincent's condition: "There was a frightful mistral blowing which might have unnerved him. He wanted to drink a liter of oil of turpentine out of a bottle that sat on the table in the room." (Signac, "Letter from Paul Signac to Gustave Coquiot," in Stein, ed., p. 136.) (See Ch. 38, n. 203.) This later account does include some pleasantries, but the portrait of Vincent that emerges from it is far, far from "perfect physical and mental health" (ibid.).
(4) Signac's contemporaneous letter is preoccupied with Vincent's preoccupations: particularly his complaints about the hospital and his desire to escape from its prying eyes and set up a new studio elsewhere in Arles (because his former neighbors would not welcome him back to the Yellow House [see Ch. 38, n. 191]). In fact, however, Theo had sent Signac with a very different mission: i.e., "to put me in touch with the Director & doctors in Aix" (b2050 V/1982, ''Gogh, Theo van'' to ''Bonger, Jo'', 3/16/1889). According to a letter he wrote his sister Wil only a week before Signac's visit, Theo had already determined that Vincent would enter an asylum: "It is just about decided that [Vincent] will be transferred to Aix. I expected this, but it is now certain that it will be quite a while before he will be completely healthy." (b0921 V/1962, ''Gogh, Theo van'' to ''Gogh, Willemina van'', 3/15/1889.) In light of such pessimism, Signac's report of "perfect" mental health must have sounded strained and implausible even to Theo. Indeed, Signac apparently did not meet any doctors at the hospital other than Rey (see Ch. 38, n. 191), whom Theo had already met, and relates no information about Aix or other asylums in the area. His report is entirely responsive to Vincent's obsessions, not Theo's instructions.
(5) Other than Vincent's sense of oppressive imprisonment, Signac's report includes nothing that might have shed a negative light on Vincent's situation: nothing about the break-in at the Yellow House, nothing about the scuffle with neighbors or the run-in with the police (see Ch. 38, n. 185); nothing about the terrible condition of the interior after a month without heat and a flood that came within feet of the threshold (JLB 765, 4/30/1889) and nothing about Vincent's conspicuous drinking (which Vincent also admitted to Signac at the time [JLB 756, 4/10/1889]). In this way, Signac's report seems edited. In our view, the best explanation for these discrepancies is that Vincent persuaded Signac that it was crucial not to trouble Theo with disturbing information (given his poor health and impending marriage) and successfully enlisted the younger painter in his ongoing project of reassurance, just as he tried (but failed) to recruit Gauguin soon after the events at Christmastime (Vincent to Gauguin, 1/4/1889, quoted in Hulsker, "Critical Days in the Hospital in Arles," pp. 29-30) (see also Ch. 38, n. 361), and subsequently tried to do with Salles. Thus, the text sees Vincent's arguments in Signac's "reporting" of conditions in Arles (and Rey's opinions), almost as if Vincent had dictated the letter himself. As to whether Signac was a witting or unwitting actor in this veiled communication between brothers, we believe it may be significant that Signac ends his summary with the words, "This is also what your brother desires" (Signac to Theo, BVG 581a, 3/26/1889). (See also Ch. 38, n. 333.)
He recommends that Theo leave off planning his rescue until after his wedding, as if he expected it might happen sooner ("After your marriage we can deal with sorting all this out, and in the meantime, my word, leave me here quietly"), but adds a note of black humor that appears calculated to increase the pressure on his brother to come to his aid: "Here, except for freedom, except for lots of things that I would wish otherwise, I'm not too bad" (ibid.). In his delusional state, Vincent sees Signac's coming as part of Theo's plan to "free" him: "Don't free me, it will settle itself on its own -- all the same, warn Signac that he shouldn't get involved until I write again, for he'd be putting his hand into a wasps' nest" (ibid.). (Note how the latter phrase suggests that Theo is only awaiting a signal from Vincent.) The origin of this delusion may be in Vincent's paranoia, as he appears to contemplate that the authorities might somehow make him disappear and instructs Theo to hold off on the planned escape temporarily: "If in a month's time, though, you have no direct news of me, then act, but as long as I'm writing to you, wait" (ibid.). Finally, he warns his brother to "be cautious" and hints that Theo's rescue plan probably consists of taking legal action against the mayor and police for holding Vincent illegally: "You know what it is to go to the civil authorities to complain" (ibid.). He ends with a final instruction and words of caution: "Your coming here -- my word -- for the moment it would precipitate things. … Let's not fear, I'm quite calm now. Leave them to their own devices. You will perhaps do well to write one more time, but nothing more for the moment." (ibid.)
We cannot be sure how Theo responded to this strange discussion of plots and plans. Vincent's response to Theo's reply is exceedingly cryptic -- so much so that it suggests Vincent by now suspected that the authorities were reading his mail and would foil his brother's plan to snatch Vincent from their clutches: "Thanks for your letter -- which I've just received. All the more so since in this case I prefer to be wrong than to be right: certainly we're absolutely, absolutely in agreement as regards the reasoning you give in your letter. I also envisage the thing that way." (JLB 751, 3/22/1889.) Theo must have disabused Vincent of some of his more delusional expectations, as Vincent falls back on a much more modest request of his brother -- "If on your side you would write, try to influence them so that I have the right to go out into the town nevertheless" (ibid.). Note that in all this breathless planning, Vincent never actually asks Theo to come rescue him. Instead, he deludes himself that it is Theo's plan he is abetting. This strategy disguises Vincent's true feelings (he desperately wanted Theo to come ["What wouldn't I have given to be able to spend a day here with you and to show you the work in progress and the house, &c. &c.," he wrote in mid-January (JLB 738, 1/19/1889)]), feeling that he can't express because of the guilt he would feel if Theo did come at his call ("I don't give a damn at all -- were it not for the pain I'm quite involuntarily causing you thus, or rather that they're causing" [JLB 751, 3/22/1889]). In this way, Vincent's delusion is a mirror image of Theo's denial. He wants Theo to want to come to Arles, just as Theo wants Vincent to want to enter an asylum.
Context:
BVG 566, 1/4/1889: "I cannot tell you how glad I am that you have made peace, and even more than that, with the Bongers."
JLB 729, 1/4/1889: "I can't tell you how much it delights me that you've made peace and even more than that with the Bongers."
Context:
JLB 741, 1/22/1889: "So from me, your brother, you won't wish for the absolutely banal congratulations and the assurances that you'll be transported straight to paradise."
Context:
BVG 573, 1/22/1889-1/23/1889: "When you are married, perhaps there will be other marriages in the family, and in any case you will see your way clear and the house will not be empty any more."
JLB 741, 1/22/1889: "Once your marriage is done, there will perhaps be others in the family, and in any case, you'll see your path clear and the house will no longer be empty."
Context:
BVG 576, 2/3/1889: "But why are you thinking about your marriage contract and the possibility of dying just now? Wouldn't it be better simply to make love to your woman instead?"
JLB 745, 2/3/1889: But how come that you're thinking about the little clauses of marriage and the possibility of dying at this moment, wouldn't you have done better quite simply to have screwed your wife in advance?
Context:
BVG 576, 2/3/1889: " After all, that's normal practice in the North, and it's not for me to say that practices in the North are no good."
JLB 745, 2/3/1889: " Anyway, that's part of the customs of the north, and I'm not the one to say they don't have good customs in the north."
Context:
JLB 738, 1/19/1889: "It has always seemed to me that you owed it to your social position and to the one you have in the family to marry, and it has been Mother's wish for years. And by doing thus what you must do, you'll perhaps have more tranquillity than before, even amidst a thousand-and-one difficulties."
Context:
BVG 572, 1/19/1889: "It always seemed to me that you owed it to your social position and to the position you have in the family to get married, and besides, for a number of years it has been our mothers' wish too. And by thus doing what you ought to do, you will perhaps have more peace, even amidst a thousand and one difficulties, than before."
JLB 738, 1/19/1889: "It has always seemed to me that you owed it to your social position and to the one you have in the family to marry, and it has been Mother's wish for years. And by doing thus what you must do, you'll perhaps have more tranquillity than before, even amidst a thousand-and-one difficulties."
Context:
JLB 738, 1/19/1889: "It has always seemed to me that you owed it to your social position and to the one you have in the family to marry, and it has been Mother's wish for years. And by doing thus what you must do, you'll perhaps have more tranquillity than before, even amidst a thousand-and-one difficulties."
Context:
JLB 745, 2/3/1889: "Now as regards your move from rue Lepic to rue Rodier I can't have an opinion, not having seen it, but the main thing is precisely that you also lunch at home with your wife. By staying in Montmartre you'll be decorated and Minister for Fine Arts more quickly, but as you don't much care about that it's better to have tranquillity at home, so I think you're completely right."
Context:
JLB 749, 3/16/1889: "You've done so much for me that it breaks my heart to know that now that I'll probably have days of happiness with my dear Jo, you will actually have very bad days."
Context:
BVG 580, 3/22/1889: "After all this for nothing, provided you go straight to your goal -- a secure home for you is a great gain for me too -- and that done, we can perhaps find another, more peaceful, way of settling things after your marriage."
JLB 751, 3/22/1889: "Anyway, all of that is nothing provided you walk straight towards your goal -- once your home is secured, there's a lot won for me too, and once that's done we can perhaps rediscover a more peaceful path after your marriage."
Context:
JLB 743, 1/28/1889: "You'll have been poor all the time to feed me, but I'll return the money or turn up my toes. Now your wife will come, who has a good heart, to make us old fellows feel a bit younger again."
Context:
BVG 573, 1/22/1889-1/23/1889: "But let it go to your wife's hands, who will join with us besides in working with the artists."
JLB 741, 1/22/1889: "But may it go into the hands of your wife, who anyway will join with us to work with the artists."
Context:
BVG 574, 1/28/1889: "After that, in the spring, you and your wife will found a commercial house for several generations. It will not be too easy. And that settled, I only ask the position of a painting employee, at least as long as there is enough to pay one."
JLB 743, 1/28/1889: "Afterwards, you and your wife will set up a commercial firm for several generations in the renewal. You won't have it easy. And once that's sorted out I ask only a place as an employed painter as long as there's enough to pay for one."
Soon after the wedding, he anticipates a financial as well as an emotional abandonment as the inevitable result of Theo's marriage: "For bear it firmly in mind, continuing to spend money on this painting when things could come to the point where there was a lack of money for housekeeping, that's atrocious, and you're sufficiently aware that the chance of succeeding is abominable" (JLB 767, 5/2/1889). In another telling chain of thought, Vincent appears to equate Theo's marrying Jo with Goupil's dismissive treatment of him a decade earlier: "But this I believe, that you and I will have successors in business, and that precisely at the moment when the family abandoned us to our own resources, financially speaking, it will again be we who haven't flinched" (JLB 743, 1/28/1889). Indeed, he plays out this new equation of prospective abandonment with a request for "employment" in the "commercial firm" that he imagines Theo and Jo will found -- thus deepening the expectation of a parallel devastating rejection after Theo marries (ibid.).
In the same letter, Vincent reveals that Theo has not informed him about his travel plans ("Did you pass through Breda, I'm naturally inclined to think so"). (In fact, Theo and Jo went to The Hague [see Ch. 38, n. 174].) Vincent was similarly not informed in advance about the specifics of Theo's departure for Amsterdam at the end of March. He wrote Theo a letter on March 29 (JLB 753, 3/29/1889) that probably arrived after Theo left on March 30. In the letter, Vincent writes unknowingly: "Now I imagine that you'd prefer to marry without all the ceremonies and congratulations of a wedding, and am quite sure in advance that you'll avoid them as much as possible" (ibid.). The tentative nature of this supposition ("I imagine") indicates that Vincent had not been informed about the principal controversy generated within the family by the impending marriage, a controversy that had been raging in Theo's and Jo's letters throughout March: that is, whether to have the ceremony in a church or not (see Jansen and Robert, pp. 193-242). As late as the first week of April -- two weeks before the wedding on April 18 -- Vincent complained openly about his state of ignorance about Theo's plans: "I waited a few days before replying, not knowing which day you would leave for Amsterdam, besides I also don't know whether it's in Breda or Amsterdam that you'll be getting married" (JLB 754, 4/4/1889). During the second week of April, Vincent writes Signac forlornly: "It's because [Theo's] in Holland, where he's getting married one of these days" (JLB 756, 4/10/1889; emphasis added).
Less than a week before the ceremony, Vincent seems still uncertain as to its exact date, allowing for the possibility that it has already happened: "Now I hope that all these things have gone well for you" (JLB 758, 4/14/1889-4/17/1889). He was kept equally in the dark about the newlyweds' return to Paris after the ceremony. Almost a week afterwards, he writes: "How are you, are you back?" (JLB 761, 4/24/1889). Theo not only failed to inform Vincent about the details of his marriage plans, he also discouraged family members and Jo from writing Vincent, even failing to send Vincent's address when Jo asked to write him on his birthday (see Ch. 38, n. 1027). Jo's letters indicate that Vincent was not sent an invitation to the wedding, either: "Your Mother allowed me to read a couple of lovely letters from Cor [Theo and Vincent's youngest brother] -- I also sent him a few words this afternoon -- I had heard nothing at all from him since our engagement. I have already invited him to the wedding -- do you think he will come?" (b4268 V/1984, ''Bonger, Jo'' to ''Gogh, Theo van'', 2/22/1889.) There is no similar mention of an invitation to Vincent. According to Nagera: "Even around the time of the wedding Vincent was apparently not informed where the wedding was to take place. He was not certain if it was to be in Breda or Amsterdam." (Nagera, p. 110.) Nagera blames Vincent's ignorance for his ambivalent "congratulations" at the beginning of April: "A few words to wish you and your fiancée much happiness these days. It's like a nervous tic with me that on the occasion of a day of celebration I generally experience difficulties in formulating a congratulation, but it shouldn't be concluded from that that I desire your happiness less ardently than anyone else, as you well know." (JLB 754, 4/4/1889; see Ch. 38, n. 1010.)
The letter from Theo to which this passage responds may have been the same letter that contained another piece of insensitive advice that had to be hurtful to Vincent: "What I find excellent in your letter is that you say that one mustn't on any account have illusions about life" (JLB 751, 3/22/1889). A month later, after Theo's marriage and another unthinking barrage of exultation from his brother on the joys of matrimony, Vincent again considers his own prospects, and, again, finds only despair: "From time to time, just as the waves crush themselves against the deaf, desperate cliffs, a storm of desire to embrace something, a woman of the domestic hen type, but anyway one must take that for what it is, an effect of hysterical over-excitement rather than an accurate vision of reality" (JLB 763, 4/28/1889).
Context:
BVG 581, 3/24/1889: "You talk to me of what you call 'the real South.' The reason why I shall never go there is above. I rightly leave that to men who have a more well-balanced mind, more integrity than I. I am only good for something intermediate, and second-rate, and self-effaced. However intense my feelings may be, or whatever power of expression I may acquire at an age when physical passions have lessened, I could never build an imposing structure on such a mouldy, shattered past."
JLB 752, 3/24/1889: "You speak to me of what you call 'the real south.' Above is the reason why I'll never go there. I rightly leave that to people more complete, more entire than myself. As for me, I'm good only for something intermediate and second-rate and insignificant. However much intensity my feeling may have or my power of expression may acquire, at an age when the material passions are more burned out -- never can I build an imposing edifice on such a mouldy, shattered past."
Context:
JLB 752, 3/24/1889: "So I don't really mind what happens to me -- even staying here -- I think that my fate will be balanced in the long term. Beware of sudden impulses -- since you're getting married, and I'm getting too old -- it's the only policy that can suit us."
Context:
BVG 581, 3/24/1889: "You talk to me of what you call 'the real South.' The reason why I shall never go there is above. I rightly leave that to men who have a more well-balanced mind, more integrity than I. I am only good for something intermediate, and second-rate, and self-effaced. However intense my feelings may be, or whatever power of expression I may acquire at an age when physical passions have lessened, I could never build an imposing structure on such a mouldy, shattered past."
JLB 752, 3/24/1889: "You speak to me of what you call 'the real south.' Above is the reason why I'll never go there. I rightly leave that to people more complete, more entire than myself. As for me, I'm good only for something intermediate and second-rate and insignificant. However much intensity my feeling may have or my power of expression may acquire, at an age when the material passions are more burned out -- never can I build an imposing edifice on such a mouldy, shattered past."
Context:
BVG 579, 3/19/1889: "The main thing, I cannot tell you this too often, is that you should keep calm too, and let nothing upset you in your business. After your marriage we can set ourselves to clearing all this up, and meanwhile I beg you to leave me quietly here."
JLB 750, 3/19/1889: "The main thing, I couldn't say it too often, is that you should keep your calm too, and that nothing should disturb you in your affairs. After your marriage we can deal with sorting all this out, and in the meantime, my word, leave me here quietly."
Context:
JLB 750, 3/19/1889: "Here, except for freedom, except for lots of things that I would wish otherwise, I'm not too bad."
Context:
JLB 751, 3/22/1889: The best for me would certainly be not to remain alone, but I would prefer to remain eternally in a madhouse than to sacrifice another existence to my own.
Context:
BVG 583b, 4/10/1889: "The fact is that he is in Holland, where he is getting married one of these days. Well, look here, without denying the least bit in the world the advantages of marriages, once it has been contracted, and of being quietly settled down in one's own home, when I think of the obsequial pomp of the reception and the lamentable congratulations on the part of the two families (still in a state of civilization), not to mention the fortuitous appearances in those chemist's jars where the antediluvian civil and religious magistrates are kept -- goodness gracious -- mustn't one pity the poor wretch who is obliged after having provided himself with the necessary documents, to repair to a locality, where, with a ferocity unequaled by the cruelest cannibals, he is married alive at a slow fire of receptions and the aforesaid funereal pomp."
JLB 756, 4/10/1889: It's because he's in Holland, where he's getting married one of these days. Now, while not denying the advantages of a marriage in the very least, once it has been done and one is quietly set up in one's home, the funereal pomp of the reception &c., the lamentable congratulations of two families (even civilized) at the same time, not to mention the fortuitous appearances in those pharmacist's jars where antediluvian civil or religious magistrates sit -- my word -- isn't there good reason to pity the poor unfortunate obliged to present himself armed with the requisite papers in the places where, with a ferocity unequalled by the cruellest cannibals, you're married alive on the low heat of the aforementioned funereal receptions.
Context:
JLB 756, 4/10/1889: "Since then my mind has returned yet more to the normal state, for the time being I don't ask for better, provided it lasts."
Signac did respond to this letter with a polite, conversational summary of his activities on the Côte d'Azur which ends with this very reserved "invitation": "Why don't you come to do a study or two in this pretty country?" -- in reality, nothing more than a suggestion that Vincent might want to come and spend a weekend somewhere nearby on the coast (note that Signac does not offer accommodations) (JLB 757, 4/12/1889). It is enough, however, to persuade Vincent to a new, more delusional iteration of his original fantasy, which he immediately shares with Theo: "Signac has asked me to join him in Cassis" (JLB 758, 4/14/1889-4/17/1889). Vincent himself gives away the wishfulness at work. When he first introduces the idea of living with Signac to Theo, he follows it with a quick dismissal: "... since that's actually scarcely probable" (JLB 751, 3/22/1889). And after the actual "invitation" arrives, he waves it away like the insubstantial wish it was: "... but seeing as we have enough expenses without that, whatever I do or you do it isn't within our means" (JLB 758, 4/14/1889-4/17/1889).
Context:
BVG 580, 3/22/1889: "Perhaps it would have been a good thing for me to accompany him where he was going, and if we had tried to find a new place together, but there, there isn't much likelihood of that now, so what's the use of his putting himself out on purpose to come and see me?"
JLB 751, 3/22/1889: "Then perhaps it would have been good that I should accompany him where he's going, and that the two of us could have sought a new place, but there, since that's actually scarcely probable, what's the good of him putting himself out expressly to come and see me?"
Context:
JLB 756, 4/10/1889: "Here's a hasty croquis of them -- the largest is a poor green countryside with little cottages, blue line of the Alpilles, white and blue sky. The foreground, enclosures with reed hedges where little peach trees are in blossom -- everything there is small, the gardens, the fields, the gardens, the trees, even those mountains, as in certain Japanese landscapes, that's why this subject attracted me. The other landscape is almost all green with a little lilac and grey -- on a rainy day." (Emphasis in original.)
BVG 583b, 4/10/1889. In the letter he sent Signac, Vincent included two sketches (La Crau with Peach Trees in Bloom [F 583b JH 1682], Orchard in Bloom with View of Arles [F 583b JH 1684) of paintings he was working on: one, a Crau-like vista (La Crau with Peach Trees in Blossom [F 514 JH 1681]) (see Ch. 38, n. 1064), the other a Japanese-print-like orchard (View of Arles with Trees in Blossom [F 515 JH 1683]). He also included a description of the paintings that, like the images themselves, reprised the arguments he had made to Gauguin for the "combination" in the Midi: "Here's a hasty croquis of them -- the largest [La Crau with Peach Trees in Bloom (F 583b JH 1682)] is a poor green countryside with little cottages, blue line of the Alpilles, white and blue sky. The foreground, enclosures with reed hedges where little peach trees are in blossom -- everything there is small, the gardens, the fields, the gardens, the trees, even those mountains, as in certain Japanese landscapes, that's why this subject attracted me. The other landscape is almost all green with a little lilac and grey -- on a rainy day." (Emphasis in original.)
Context:
JLB 756, 4/10/1889: "Here's a hasty croquis of them -- the largest is a poor green countryside with little cottages, blue line of the Alpilles, white and blue sky. The foreground, enclosures with reed hedges where little peach trees are in blossom -- everything there is small, the gardens, the fields, the gardens, the trees, even those mountains, as in certain Japanese landscapes, that's why this subject attracted me. The other landscape is almost all green with a little lilac and grey -- on a rainy day." (Emphasis in original.)
Context:
JLB 756, 4/10/1889: "The best consolation, if not the only remedy, is, it still seems to me, profound friendships, even if these have the disadvantage of anchoring us in life more solidly than may appear desirable to us in the days of great suffering."
Context:
JLB 750, 3/19/1889: "If I didn't restrain my indignation I would immediately be judged to be a dangerous madman. ... If I'd had my tranquillity I'd have been back on my feet long ago. ... I myself fear a little that if I go outside at liberty I wouldn't always be master of myself if I was provoked or insulted, and one could take advantage of that."
Context:
JLB 751, 3/22/1889: "What's new is that I think Mr. Salles is trying to find me an apartment in another part of town. I approve of that, for in that way I wouldn't be forced to move house immediately -- I would keep a pied-
Context:
BVG 579, 3/19/1889: "You know my work would not permit being reduced to living in hotels again. I must have my own fixed niche."
JLB 750, 3/19/1889: "To be reduced once again to living in the hotel, you know that my work won't allow it, I must have a fixed pied-
Context:
JLB 751, 3/22/1889: "What's new is that I think Mr. Salles is trying to find me an apartment in another part of town. I approve of that, for in that way I wouldn't be forced to move house immediately -- I would keep a pied-
Context:
BVG 583b, 4/10/1889: "I intend to stay here for the next few months at least; I have rented an apartment consisting of two very small rooms."
JLB 756, 4/10/1889: "For the first few months, at least, I plan to go on staying here. I've rented an apartment consisting of two very small rooms."
Context:
BVG 584, 4/13/1889: "I've taken an apartment consisting of two little rooms (at 6 to 8 francs per month, water included) belonging to M. Rey. It is certainly not expensive but nothing like as nice as the other studio."
JLB 757, 4/12/1889: "I've taken an apartment of 2 small rooms at 6 (or 8 francs a month, water included) which belong to Mr. Rey. It's certainly not expensive, but not nearly as nice as the other studio." (Emphasis in original.)
Context:
JLB 754, 4/4/1889: "At Easter I'll have to pay 3 months' rent, the removal costs &c."
Context:
BVG 581, 3/24/1889: "Unfortunately I have a handicraft which I do not know well enough to express myself as I should like."
JLB 752, 3/24/1889: "Unfortunately I have a profession which I don't know well enough to express myself as I would wish."
BVG 583b, 4/10/1889. By "surroundings," Vincent must mean the countryside, which started only a block from the hospital. Pickvance identifies the location of Orchard in Bloom with View of Arles (F 515 JH 1683) as "south of the town, a half-mile's walk from the hospital," based on the positions of the towers of Saint-Trophime and the Homme de Bronze on the horizon (Pickvance, pp. 250, 251). The other painting Vincent is referring to, La Crau with Peach Trees in Blossom (F 514 JH 1681), is generally identified as a view of the Crau, partly because it shows the "Alpilles" on the horizon (JLB 756, 4/10/1889). But if Vincent did, in fact, venture to the Crau, he went far beyond the "surroundings" of the hospital. Either he violated the terms of his daily release or he partly invented the scene -- or perhaps a little of both.
Context:
JLB 756, 4/10/1889: "I am well now and I'm working in the hospital or its surroundings. Thus I've just brought back two studies of orchards."
Context:
JLB 752, 3/24/1889: "Could you send me before you leave …"
Context:
JLB 753, 3/29/1889: "The day before yesterday and yesterday I went into town for an hour to find things to work with."
Context:
JLB 753, 3/29/1889: "And here I am, going back to my figure of the Berceuse for the 5th time. And when you see it you'll agree with me that it's nothing but a chromolithograph from a penny bazaar, and what's more, it doesn't even have the merit of being photographically correct in the proportions or in anything."
Vincent paints three new portraits of Roulin at this time: Portrait of the Postman Joseph Roulin (F 439 JH 1673), Portrait of the Postman Joseph Roulin (F 435 JH 1674), and Portrait of the Postman Joseph Roulin (F 436 JH 1675), treating each one, as he did the portraits of Roulin's wife, to a new floral wallpaper background with each repetition, but hardly a change to the likeness itself, which he clearly traced from the original, which was Portrait of the Postman Joseph Roulin (F 433 JH 1524), painted in late July and early August 1888, or a drawing thereof (see Ch. 31, n. 242). By Vincent's own standards, these repetitions are not a good sign of mental health. In January, he had written: "If you want some I can certainly send them to you now, but when calm returns to me I hope to do something else" (JLB 732, 1/7/1889). Pereira notes that the "swirling arabesques" in the background of the portraits of the postman vary, whereas Vincent copied the floral wallpaper behind La Berceuse relatively unchanged from version to version (Pereira, pp. 165-166).
Context:
JLB 754, 4/4/1889: "By the way -- just today friend Roulin came to see me -- he told me to give you his warm regards and to congratulate you."
Context:
JLB 754, 4/4/1889: "By the way -- just today friend Roulin came to see me … As he has a strong peasant nature, that doesn't prevent him from always looking well and even joyful -- however for me, who am always learning something new from him, what lessons for the future there are in his conversation when he seems to say that the road doesn't become easier as one advances in life."
Context:
BVG 583, 4/5/1889: "His visit gave me a lot of pleasure; he often has to carry loads you would call too heavy, but it doesn't prevent him, as he has the strong constitution of the peasant, from always looking well and even jolly. But for me, who am perpetually learning from him afresh, what a lesson for the future it is when one gathers from his talk that life does not grow any easier as one gets on in life."
JLB 754, 4/4/1889: "His visit gave me considerable pleasure, he often has to carry burdens which one would say were too heavy. As he has a strong peasant nature, that doesn't prevent him from always looking well and even joyful -- however for me, who am always learning something new from him, what lessons for the future there are in his conversation when he seems to say that the road doesn't become easier as one advances in life."
Context:
BVG 583, 4/5/1889: "Fortunately the weather is fine and the sun glorious, and people here quickly forget all their griefs for the time being and then they brim over with high spirits and illusions."
JLB 754, 4/4/1889: "Fortunately the weather is fine and the sun glorious, and the people here momentarily quickly forget all their troubles and then glow with energy and illusions."
Context:
JLB 729, 1/4/1889: "I expect to start work again soon. When I come out I'll be able to continue on my way here again, and soon the fine days will come and I'll start on the orchards in blossom again."
Context:
BVG 566, 1/4/1889: "I expect to begin work again soon. When I come out I shall be able to take my little road here again, and soon the fine weather will be coming and I shall begin again on the orchards in bloom."
JLB 729, 1/4/1889: "I expect to start work again soon. When I come out I'll be able to continue on my way here again, and soon the fine days will come and I'll start on the orchards in blossom again."
Spectators in the Arena at Arles, F 548 JH 1653, December, 1888, oil on canvas, 28.7 x 36.2 in., 73 x 92 cm., Hermitage, St. Petersburg.
Context:
JLB 756, 4/10/1889: "Here's a hasty croquis of them -- the largest is a poor green countryside with little cottages, blue line of the Alpilles, white and blue sky. The foreground, enclosures with reed hedges where little peach trees are in blossom -- everything there is small, the gardens, the fields, the gardens, the trees, even those mountains, as in certain Japanese landscapes, that's why this subject attracted me." (Emphasis in original.)
The drawing is The Courtyard of the Hospital at Arles (F 1467 JH 1688); the painting is The Courtyard of the Hospital at Arles (F 519 JH 1687).
Context:
JLB 764, 4/28/1889-5/2/1889: "So it's a painting chock-full of flowers and springtime greenery. However, three black, sad tree-trunks cross it like snakes, and in the foreground four large sad, dark box bushes."
Context:
BVG W11, 4/30/1889: "In front of those galleries an antique garden with a pond in the middle, and eight flower beds, forget-me-nots, Christmas roses, anemones, ranunculus, wallflowers, daisies, and so on."
JLB 764, 4/28/1889-5/2/1889: "In front of these galleries an ancient garden with a pond in the middle and 8 beds of flowers, forget-me-nots, Christmas roses, anemones, buttercups, wallflowers, daisies &c."
His account of the visit from Joseph Roulin (whom Theo had met and corresponded with) in early April is probably another example of Vincent's campaign of reassuring misinformation to convince Theo that all was well in Arles: "His visit gave me considerable pleasure, he often has to carry burdens which one would say were too heavy. As he has a strong peasant nature, that doesn't prevent him from always looking well and even joyful -- however for me, who am always learning something new from him, what lessons for the future there are in his conversation when he seems to say that the road doesn't become easier as one advances in life." (JLB 754, 4/4/1889.) Vincent uses Roulin (just as he used Signac) to introduce into Theo's thinking some reassuring notions that he, Vincent, had probably invented: "Roulin was saying, or rather made it understood, that he didn't at all like the anxiety that has reigned here in Arles this winter, even considered completely outside the share that fell on me. Anyway, it's like that just about everywhere, business affairs that aren't going well, worn-out resources, discouraged people and -- -- -- -- as you were saying, not content to remain spectators and becoming wicked through lack of occupation. If someone still laughs or works, they come down on him fast." (ibid.) That this narrative of victimization by a disillusioned populace is specious is apparent both from its substance (who could seriously characterize Vincent as a person who "still laughs or works") and from Vincent's wildly more positive assessment of the local mood only a few paragraphs later in the same letter: "Fortunately the weather is fine and the sun glorious, and the people here momentarily quickly forget all their troubles and then glow with energy and illusions" (ibid.).
Context:
JLB 751, 3/22/1889: "Anyway, there you have something of the cause of my silence, so stay apart from me for business matters, and in the meantime I am a man too, after all, you know, I'll get by on my own, as regards what concerns me in matters of conscience."
Context:
BVG 580, 3/22/1889: "I shake your hand in thought. Tell your fiancée and our mother and sister not to worry about me and to believe that I am on the high road to recovery."
JLB 751, 3/22/1889: "I shake your hand heartily in thought, tell your fiancée, Mother and our sister not to worry about me, and to believe that I'm well on the road to recovery."
Context:
JLB 750, 3/19/1889: "If I'm patient, that could only make me stronger so that I won't be so much in danger of relapsing into a crisis."
Context:
JLB 760, 4/21/1889: "I assure you that these strange days in which many things seem odd to me because my brain is shaken up, I don't hate père Pangloss in all of this."
Context:
BVG 579, 3/19/1889: "Very good -- so much for your better guidance; as far as my mental state is concerned, I am greatly shaken, but I am recovering a sort of calm in spite of everything, so as not to get angry."
JLB 750, 3/19/1889: "Good. That's for your guidance; as regards my moral state, I'm badly shaken, but all the same I'm recovering a certain calm so as not to get angry."
Context:
JLB 765, 4/30/1889: "However, think of Pangloss, think of Bouvard and Pécuchet, I know, then even that can be explained, but those people perhaps don't know Pangloss, or else one forgets everything one knows about him under the inevitable bite of real despairs and great pains."
Context:
JLB 765, 4/30/1889: "However, think of Pangloss, think of Bouvard and Pécuchet ..."
Context:
BVG 579, 3/19/1889: "My dear boy, the best we can do perhaps is to make fun of our petty griefs and, in a way, of the great griefs of human life too. Take it like a man, go straight to your goal."
JLB 750, 3/19/1889: "My dear brother, the best thing remains perhaps to joke about our little miseries, and also a little about the great ones of human life. Take it like a man and walk dead straight towards your goal."
Context:
JLB 753, 3/29/1889: "I've had another few books brought in order to have a few solid ideas in my mind. I've re-read La case de l'oncle Tom -- you know, the book by Beecher Stowe on slavery -- Dickens's Contes de Noël."
Context:
JLB 764, 4/28/1889-5/2/1889: "I read little so as to think about it more."
Context:
BVG 542, 9/24/1888: "If we study Japanese art, we discover a man who is undeniably wise, philosophical and intelligent, who spends his time -- doing what? Studying the distance from the earth and the moon? No! Studying the politics of Bismarck No! He studies … a single blade of grass. ... That is how he spends his life, and life is too short to do everything. So come, isn't what we are taught by these simple Japanese, who live in nature as if they themselves were flowers, almost a true religion?"
JLB 686, 9/23/1888 or 9/24/1888: "If we study Japanese art, then we see a man, undoubtedly wise and a philosopher and intelligent, who spends his time -- on what? -- studying the distance from the earth to the moon? -- no; studying Bismarck's politics? -- no, he studies a single blade of grass. ... He spends his life like that, and life is too short to do everything. Just think of that; isn't it almost a new religion that these Japanese teach us, who are so simple and live in nature as if they themselves were flowers?"
Grass and Butterflies (F 460 JH 1676) and Two White Butterflies (F 402 JH 1677), both called Corner of a Garden with Flowers and Butterflies.
Swirling clumps of grass appear in both the paintings of grass with butterflies (see Ch. 38, n. 1102), but another painting, Clumps of Grass (F 582 JH 1678), is devoted exclusively to an extreme close-up of two vortices of grass clumps. What Druick and Zegers say of one of the former pair, Grass and Butterflies (F 460 JH 1676), really applies to all of these three paintings: "[It] is arguably more personally and professionally revealing. Technically the work is a model of control, the forms built up with long, directional marks that combine like strands of thread into a richly embroidered, multicolored surface pattern. The white ground, which the artist applied himself, shines through between the thick brush strokes, its brightness balanced by passages of black." (Druick and Zegers, p. 273.) While we agree with Druick and Zegers that the image of the butterfly had deep roots in Vincent's imagination (including Frederik van Eeden's Eine Kleine Johannes [see Ch. 34, n. 319]), we question their identification of the single red butterfly in Grass and Butterflies (F 460 JH 1676) with Gauguin ("a single butterfly in Gauguin's signature bright red") (ibid.).
Context:
JLB 763, 4/28/1889: "Besides, Rey and I have already joked about it sometimes, for he says that love is also a microbe, which wouldn't astonish me much, and couldn't bother anyone, it would seem to me."
Context:
BVG W11, 4/30/1889: "I look upon the whole thing as a simple accident. There can be no doubt that much of this is my own fault, and at times I have attacks of melancholy and of atrocious remorse; but you know, the fact is, that when all this discourages me and gives me spleen, I am not ashamed to tell myself that the remorse and all the other things that are wrong might possibly be caused by microbes too, like love."
JLB 764, 4/28/1889-5/2/1889: "I consider the whole rather as a simple accident, no doubt a large part of it is my fault, and from time to time I have fits of melancholy, atrocious remorse, but you see, when that's going to discourage me completely and make me gloomy, I'm not exactly embarrassed to say that remorse and fault are possibly microbes too, just like love."
Context:
JLB 764, 4/28/1889-5/2/1889: "Anyway, it isn't always pleasant, but I try not to forget completely how to jest, I try to avoid everything that might relate to heroism and martyrdom, in short I try not to take lugubrious things lugubriously."
Context:
BVG W11, 4/30/1889: "I look upon the whole thing as a simple accident. There can be no doubt that much of this is my own fault, and at times I have attacks of melancholy and of atrocious remorse; but you know, the fact is, that when all this discourages me and gives me spleen, I am not ashamed to tell myself that the remorse and all the other things that are wrong might possibly be caused by microbes too, like love."
JLB 764, 4/28/1889-5/2/1889: "I consider the whole rather as a simple accident, no doubt a large part of it is my fault, and from time to time I have fits of melancholy, atrocious remorse, but you see, when that's going to discourage me completely and make me gloomy, I'm not exactly embarrassed to say that remorse and fault are possibly microbes too, just like love."
Context:
BVG 585, 4/21/1889: "What comforts me a little is that I am beginning to consider madness as a disease like any other and accept the thing as such, whereas during the crises themselves I thought that everything I imagined was real. … It is a disease like any other, and now almost everyone we know among our friends has something the matter with him. So is it worth talking about?"
JLB 760, 4/21/1889: "What consoles me a little is that I'm beginning to consider madness as an illness like any other and accept the thing as it is, while during the actual crises it seemed to me that everything I was imagining was reality. … it's an illness like any other, and currently almost all those we know among our friends have something. So is it worth talking about?"
Context:
JLB 752, 3/24/1889: "Ah, if only nothing had happened to mess things up for me!"
Context:
BVG 583, 4/5/1889: "I am well just now, except for a certain undercurrent of vague sadness difficult to define -- but anyway -- I have rather gained than lost in physical strength, and I am working."
JLB 754, 4/4/1889: "I'm well these days, apart from a certain vague background sadness that's hard to define -- but anyway -- I've gained physical powers rather than lose them, and I'm working."
Context:
BVG 583, 4/5/1889: "At Easter I shall have to pay three months' rent, the removal, etc. All this is not very cheering or convenient, especially as there seems no prospect of any better luck anywhere."
JLB 754, 4/4/1889: "At Easter I'll have to pay 3 months' rent, the removal costs &c. All that is neither cheering nor convenient. Especially since absolutely nothing promises us better luck."
Context:
BVG 588, 4/30/1889: "That was a blow to me, since not only the studio had come to grief, but even the studies that would have been reminders of it. It is all so final, and my urge to found something very simple but lasting was so strong. I was fighting a losing battle, or rather it was weakness of character on my part, for I am left with feelings of deep remorse about it, difficult to describe."
JLB 765, 4/30/1889: "That had an effect on me, not only the studio having foundered, but even the studies which would have been the memories of it damaged, it's so final, and my urge to found something very simple but durable was so strong. It was fighting against insurmountable odds, or rather it was weakness of character on my part, for I still have feelings of grave remorse difficult to define."
Context:
BVG 586, 4/24/1889: "There remains, however, the idea of an association of painters, of lodging them in common, some of them; though we did not succeed, though it is a deplorable and melancholy failure, the idea is still true and reasonable, like so many others. But we won't begin again."
JLB 761, 4/24/1889: "Remains, however, the fact that the idea of association of painters, of housing them together, some of them, although we haven't succeeded, although it's a deplorable and painful failure -- this idea remains true and reasonable -- like so many others. But no beginning again."
Context:
JLB 761, 4/24/1889: "But no beginning again."
Context:
JLB 760, 4/21/1889: "Then, since my clothes were in not too brilliant a state -- so that when I went out into the street it became necessary to have something new -- I took a 35-franc suit and 4 francs for 6 pairs of socks."
More than month later, on March 19, Vincent is still concerned and reluctant about being "set free": "Only to warn you: to free me -- first I don't ask it, being sure that all of this accusation will be reduced to nothing. Only I say to you, you would find it difficult to free me. If I didn't restrain my indignation I would immediately be judged to be a dangerous madman. ... I myself fear a little that if I go outside at liberty I wouldn't always be master of myself if I was provoked or insulted, and one could take advantage of that." (JLB 750, 3/19/1889.)
In April, Vincent painted Ward in the Hospital in Arles (F 646 JH 1686, April 1889, oil on canvas, 29.1 x 36.2 in., 74 x 92 cm., Winterthur, Oskar Reinhart Collection 'Am Römerholz'), a strangely fond aide de memoire of the ward where he had suffered so much. (Such rituals were usually reserved for "homes.") In loving detail, Vincent describes the painting of the hospital ward in a letter to his sister Wil: "[I] have just done two paintings of the hospital. One is a ward, a very long ward with the rows of beds with white curtains where a few figures of patients are moving. The walls, the ceiling with the large beams, everything is white in a lilac white or green white. Here and there a window with a pink or bright green curtain. The floor tiled with red bricks. At the far end a door surmounted by a crucifix. It's very, very simple." (JLB 764, 4/28/1889-5/2/1889.)
Context:
JLB 750, 3/19/1889: "I'll move house when I see the means naturally."
Context:
BVG 583b, 4/10/1889: "Since your visit my head has just about returned to its normal state, and for the time being I desire nothing better than that this will last."
JLB 756, 4/10/1889: "Since then my mind has returned yet more to the normal state, for the time being I don't ask for better, provided it lasts."
Context:
BVG 583b, 4/10/1889: "But at times it is not easy for me to take up living again, for there remain inner seizures of despair of a pretty large caliber."
JLB 756, 4/10/1889: "But at times it isn't completely convenient for me to start living again, for I still have inner despairs of quite a large calibre."
Context:
JLB 743, 1/28/1889: "However, the unbearable hallucinations have stopped for now, reducing themselves to a simple nightmare on account of taking potassium bromide, I think."
Context:
BVG 585, 4/21/1889: "I shake your hand in thought. I do not know if I shall write very, very often because not all my days are clear enough for me to write fairly logically."
JLB 760, 4/21/1889: "I shake your hand heartily in thought, I don't know if I'll write to you very, very often, because all my days aren't clear enough to write somewhat logically."
Context:
JLB 763, 4/28/1889: "But I'm finishing this letter abruptly, I wanted to talk to you about a heap of other things, but it's as I've already written to you, my ideas aren't ordered."
Context:
JLB 756, 4/10/1889: "Since then my mind has returned yet more to the normal state, for the time being I don't ask for better, provided it lasts. That will depend above all on a very sober regime."
Context:
BVG 583b, 4/10/1889: "Since your visit my head has just about returned to its normal state, and for the time being I desire nothing better than that this will last. Above all it will depend on a very sober way of living."
JLB 756, 4/10/1889: "Since then my mind has returned yet more to the normal state, for the time being I don't ask for better, provided it lasts. That will depend above all on a very sober regime."
Context:
JLB 760, 4/21/1889: "You'll probably be back in Paris when this letter arrives. I wish you and your wife lots of happiness."
Context:
BVG 585, 4/21/1889: "All your kindnesses for me, I've found them greater than ever today."
JLB 760, 4/21/1889: "All your kindnesses for me, I've found them greater than ever today."
Context:
BVG 585, 4/21/1889: "I can't put the way I feel it in words, but I assure you that this kindness has been pure gold, and if you do not see any results from it, my dear brother, don't fret about it; your own goodness abides."
JLB 760, 4/21/1889: "I can't tell you it as I feel it, but I assure you that that kindness has been of great worth, and if you don't see its results, my dear brother, don't be upset about it, you will still have your kindness."
Context:
BVG 585, 4/21/1889: "If we correspond somewhat less, you will see that if she is what I think her, she will comfort you. That is what I hope."
JLB 760, 4/21/1889: "And if we correspond a little less you'll see that if she is as I think she is, she will console you. That's what I hope."
Context:
BVG 585, 4/21/1889: "Only transfer this affection to your wife as much as possible."
JLB 760, 4/21/1889: "Only transfer this affection onto your wife as much as possible."
Context:
BVG 586, 4/24/1889: "I should like to ask you loads of things about Holland and about these days. Poor egoist that I have always been and still am, I can't get the idea out of my head, although I have already explained it to you two or three times, that it is really for the best if I go into an asylum immediately."
JLB 761, 4/24/1889: "Thus I'd like to ask you a heap of things about Holland and about recent days. Poor egotist that I've always been and still am now, I can't shake off this idea, which, however, I've already explained to you two or three times, that it's thus for the best that I go into an asylum right now."
Context:
JLB 760, 4/21/1889: "It would strain my mind a great deal to talk about it."
Context:
JLB 761, 4/24/1889: "I'm absent-minded, and for the moment wouldn't be able to control my life."
Context:
JLB 767, 5/2/1889: "I'm 'in a hole' in life, and my mental state not only is but also has been -- distracted. So that whatever might be done for me I can't think of a way of balancing my life."
Context:
JLB 760, 4/21/1889: "And for the time being I wish to remain confined, as much for my own tranquillity as for that of others."
Context:
BVG 585, 4/21/1889: " I am sorry to give trouble to M. Salles, and Rey, and above all to you too, but what is one to do? My head isn't steady enough to begin again as before -- then the important thing is not to cause any more scenes in public, and naturally, being a little calmer now, I distinctly feel that I was mentally and physically in an unhealthy condition."
JLB 760, 4/21/1889: " I regret causing trouble to Mr. Salles, to Rey, especially also to you, but what can one do -- the mind isn't steady enough to begin again like before -- so it's a matter of no longer causing scenes in public, and naturally being a little calmer now, I feel completely that I was in an unhealthy state, mentally and physically."
Context:
BVG 585, 4/21/1889: "I am sorry to give trouble to M. Salles, and Rey, and above all to you too, but what is one to do? My head isn't steady enough to begin again as before -- then the important thing is not to cause any more scenes in public, and naturally, being a little calmer now, I distinctly feel that I was mentally and physically in an unhealthy condition."
JLB 760, 4/21/1889: "I regret causing trouble to Mr. Salles, to Rey, especially also to you, but what can one do -- the mind isn't steady enough to begin again like before -- so it's a matter of no longer causing scenes in public, and naturally being a little calmer now, I feel completely that I was in an unhealthy state, mentally and physically."
Context:
BVG T6, 5/2/1889: "If it is not repulsive to you to go to St. Rémy, say for only a month, you will be examined by medical specialists, and you will probably be able to profit by their advice."
JLB 766, 5/2/1889: "If you're not averse to going to St-Rémy for let's say a month, you would have been examined by specialist doctors and probably you would have been able to benefit from their advice."
Context:
BVG T6, 5/2/1889: "The fact is that you can do no painting at the moment; that you are in a state of convalescence, and this fact has given you the idea that you will never be able to paint again, and so you tell yourself that three months of being taken care of without being able to work cost money and don't bring any in. But you forget that, suppose they let you work when you are a soldier, you will be kept like a boy in a boarding school, and that, if you are already afraid of the supervision of an establishment like the one at St. Rémy, you will have a great deal more to fear from the practices of military life."
JLB 766, 5/2/1889: "It's that not being able to do any painting at the moment, being in convalescence, gives you the idea of no longer being able to do it at all, then you tell yourself that three months' care without being able to work cost money and don't bring any in, but you're forgetting that, supposing they let you work when you're a soldier, you're held there like a kid in a boarding school, and if you already fear the supervision of a house like the one at St-Rémy you have much more to fear from the practices of military life."
Context:
JLB 762, 4/24/1889: "So be well aware of what you're doing, and if perhaps you wouldn't make another try first. Either by coming back here for a while, or by going to Pont-Aven during the summer, or by trying to board with people who would take care of you."
Context:
JLB 762, 4/24/1889: "So be well aware of what you're doing, and if perhaps you wouldn't make another try first. Either by coming back here for a while, or by going to Pont-Aven during the summer, or by trying to board with people who would take care of you."
Context:
JLB 766, 5/2/1889: "Now if you prefer, we could obtain information about the institution at Aix or Marseille to see if other conditions are laid down there."
Context:
JLB 766, 5/2/1889: "Now if you prefer, we could obtain information about the institution at Aix or Marseille to see if other conditions are laid down there."
Context:
JLB 766, 5/2/1889: "It's that not being able to do any painting at the moment, being in convalescence, gives you the idea of no longer being able to do it at all, then you tell yourself that three months' care without being able to work cost money and don't bring any in, ... If you're not averse to going to St-Rémy for let's say a month, you would have been examined by specialist doctors and probably you would have been able to benefit from their advice."
Context:
JLB 762, 4/24/1889: "Mr. Salles has sent me some prospectuses of St-Rémy in which it's said that a third party must request admission. I therefore enclose the letter for the director of the establishment, which you can use however you wish. As soon as you've decided to leave I'll send you the necessary money."
By contrast, the second half of the letter rides roughshod over Vincent's feelings with detailed, and undoubtedly excruciating, reports on the family celebration and personal joy of the wedding ceremony and the marriage, both of which Vincent, of course, has missed: "Now I also want to tell you that we've been here since last Saturday, we're almost settled in, and every day the apartment takes on a more lived-in aspect, thanks to all sorts of inventions on Jo's part. We get along very well together, so that there's such complete satisfaction on both sides that we feel happier than I can tell you. We left Mother and the sisters in perfect health. Ma seems to be getting younger. She has now gone back to Breda after an absence of almost a month. My marriage pleased her very much, above all because Jo and herself and Wil get on perfectly, moreover she has something so sincere in her ways that there are many people on whom she makes a very agreeable impression. Although there are many things of life about which she does not know and on which her opinion must be formed, she has such a fund of good will and ardour to do good that I'm no longer afraid of the disillusionments I feared before our marriage. Up to now everything is going much better than I had thought, and I hadn't dared hope for so much happiness." (JLB 762, 4/24/1889.)
Context:
BVG T5, 4/24/1889: " We thoroughly understand each other, so we feel such a complete mutual satisfaction that we feel happier than I should say."
JLB 762, 4/24/1889: " We get along very well together, so that there's such complete satisfaction on both sides that we feel happier than I can tell you."
Context:
JLB 762, 4/24/1889: "Up to now everything is going much better than I had thought, and I hadn't dared hope for so much happiness."
Also in March, Theo included a lengthy description of hanging Vincent's paintings in the new apartment at 8, Cité Pigalle. Although his intention was obviously to make Vincent feel a part of the process, the effect had to be just the opposite: "In arranging my new apartment I see your paintings again with so much pleasure. They make the rooms so jolly, and there's such a note of truth, of real countryside in each one." (JLB 749, 3/16/1889.) This insensitivity to the potential effects of his reports on Vincent reaches new lows in May, as the newlyweds settle into their new lives: "Best wishes from my wife, who is well. She's becoming really accustomed to the house." (JLB 766, 5/2/1889.) In the same blithe spirit, Jo joins in with this particularly intimate image of marital bliss: "The bedroom, in particular, is so sweet, very light and lots of pink in it -- and in bed in the morning I look straight at that beautiful flowering peach tree of yours, which looks at me in such a friendly way every morning" (JLB 771, 5/8/1889). Neither Theo nor Jo inflicted injuries intentionally, of course. But they both, apparently, immensely underestimated their power to inflict hurt.
In the Arles repeat of this pattern, Mauron draws the line between the withdrawal to the asylum at Saint-Rémy and Theo's marriage (and threats of suicide): "In fact, Vincent takes the decision [to go to Saint-Rémy] himself immediately after his brother's marriage. ... From this grouping of letters and attitudes in the spring of 1889, it may be deduced, in my sense, that Theo's marriage posed questions of life and death to Vincent's unconscious. There was an objective problem: how to help a sick man to live a normal life and care for him. That, however, is the point of view of the intern Rey, Pastor Salles and of Theo himself. Vincent has another: 'you're getting married and I am withdrawing.' He insists on linking the two issues, leaving Theo free to decide just how close this regression is likely to get to death. Such was, it appears, the subjective but psychologically determining truth. Vincent will himself later confirm the extent to which the retirement decided upon in Arles was, in spite of everything, assimilated to suicide by the unconscious when, in letter 605 written in September 1889, he on the contrary identifies his wish to leave the asylum in the hope of curing what he calls his cowardice in the face of the cold water of suicide. The affective logic comes down to this: 'you get married -- I die.' (Mauron, pp. 73-74.)
In late April and early May 1889, Vincent presents the Foreign Legion "option" in exactly the same way and, in our opinion, for exactly the same reasons. His letters to Theo make clear that he has put a great deal of thought into the difficulties he might face if he tried to enlist, especially the possibility that he would be barred from enlisting because of his recent self-mutilation and hospitalization. "I would like to enlist; what I fear here is -- my accident being known here in town -- that I will be turned down -- but what I dread, or rather what makes me timid, is the possibility, the probability here of a rejection. ... Now if here I certainly run a strong risk of being rejected because they know that I'm a madman or an epileptic, probably for good." (JLB 767, 5/2/1889.) He concocts multiple schemes for getting around this hurdle. He imagines going to Paris, where his "accident" is not known, and, most bizarrely, recruiting prominent military artists like Édouard Détaille and Caran d'Ache to facilitate his enlistment (ibid.). He cites figures that ninety percent of the "epileptics" in France are not confined in hospitals, implying, apparently, that some of these must already be in the military (JLB 767, 5/2/1889). Most strangely, he does not give up the possibility of enlisting even after Theo has given his final agreement to the plan for Saint-Rémy. ("Your kind letter did me good today, my word -- let's go for St-Rémy then" [JLB 768, 5/3/1889].) This supports our inference that the real reason for the extreme threat is not to persuade Theo that Saint-Rémy is the best solution, but to protest Theo's marriage -- just as the earlier 1883 threat to enlist in the East Indian Army was a protest against Theo's plan to go to America. Both reflect Vincent's fear of abandonment, and a threat to remove himself preemptively rather than wait for Theo to leave him.
Context:
JLB 765, 4/30/1889: "If I could get out of it by enlisting for 5 years in the Foreign Legion, I think I'd prefer that."
Only after these preliminaries does Vincent reveal the bad news about the higher fee. And immediately after doing so, he unveils his startling (and coercive) threat to join the Foreign Legion: "If I could get out of it by enlisting for 5 years in the Foreign Legion, I think I'd prefer that" rather the alternative which he defines abjectly as "made to pay 100 francs a month all through a madman's long life" (ibid.; see Ch. 38, n. 1256). For a few days, it seems that the additional 20-25 francs per month might derail the plan for Saint-Rémy. In early May, Vincent argues elaborately that staying at the hospital in Arles, while less expensive than the asylum at Saint-Rémy, is not a viable long-term option ("they can't keep me here indefinitely") and that the asylum is, in fact, cheaper in the long term than setting him up in a house again (JLB 767, 5/2/1889). He pleads with Theo: "As regards material things, let's not become too discouraged but let's try at least to be sensible about them" (ibid.). These tortured arguments testify to the deep well of guilt Vincent harbors. There is nothing in Theo's surviving letters to his brother that suggests he resisted the increased fee at Saint-Rémy. Indeed, his first recorded reaction on the subject (which comes after Vincent's threat to join the Foreign Legion) sounds a clarion note of generosity: "The last year hasn't been bad for me from the point of view of money, and you can therefore, without scruples and without harming me, count on what I was sending you before" (JLB 766, 5/2/1889).
However, by this time, Theo had already written to the director at Saint-Rémy, Dr. Théophile Peyron, and argued for a lower fee, probably on the basis of his belief that Vincent did not need treatment, only supervision (see Ch. 38, n. 1227). Peyron wrote back on April 29: "I must tell you that in these conditions, the price of the room and board remains fixed at 100f per month, and that it will be impossible to make a reduction" (b1059 V/1962, "Peyron, Th." to "Gogh, Theo van", 4/29/1889). Peyron dismisses Theo's argument for a reduction, emphasizing that treatment at the asylum is not
Context:
JLB 765, 4/30/1889: "Mr. Salles has been to St-Rémy -- they don't want to allow me painting outside the establishment, nor to take me for less than 100 francs."
Context:
BVG 588, 4/30/1889: "Supposing I am only allowed to work under supervision! And in the institution -- my God, is it worth paying money for that? In that case I could certainly work just as well, even better, in the barracks."
JLB 765, 4/30/1889: "If I can't work there except under supervision! and in the establishment -- is it by God worth paying money for that! Certainly in the barracks I could then work as well and even better." (Emphasis in original)
Context:
JLB 765, 4/30/1889: "Certainly in the barracks I could then work as well and even better."
Context:
JLB 767, 5/2/1889: " Where I must follow a rule, like here at the hospital, I feel more tranquil" (emphasis in original).
Context:
BVG 590, 5/3/1889: "If I could enlist for five years, I should recover considerably and be more rational and more master of myself."
JLB 768, 5/3/1889: "If I could enlist for 5 years I would recover considerably and would be more rational and more the master of myself."
Context:
JLB 767, 5/2/1889: "But the money that painting costs, that crushes me under a feeling of debt and of cowardice, and it would be good for that to stop if possible."
Context:
JLB 766, 5/2/1889: "Now there's something in your letter of which I disapprove entirely and which I'm going to tell you, afterwards you can do what you want. It is your plans for the Foreign Legion. That's a last resort, isn't it? for I don't think that you have spontaneously acquired a taste for this profession."
Context:
JLB 766, 5/2/1889: "That's a last resort, isn't it?"
Context:
JLB 765, 4/30/1889: "You'll perhaps read with some interest the article I'm cutting out of a Marseille newspaper, because in it one glimpses Monticelli, and I find the description of the painting of a corner of the cemetery extremely interesting. But alas, it's another still-lamentable story."
Context:
JLB 765, 4/30/1889: "You can be reasonably sure that the Marseille artist who committed suicide did not at all commit suicide from drinking absinthe, for the simple reason that nobody will have offered him any and that he wouldn't have had the means to buy any."
Context:
BVG 588, 4/30/1889: "You may perhaps be interested in reading this article I cut out of a Marseilles paper because one catches a glimpse of Monticelli in it, and I find the description of the painting representing a corner of the churchyard very interesting."
JLB 765, 4/30/1889: "You'll perhaps read with some interest the article I'm cutting out of a Marseille newspaper, because in it one glimpses Monticelli, and I find the description of the painting of a corner of the cemetery extremely interesting."
Context:
JLB 765, 4/30/1889: "But alas, it's another still-lamentable story."
Context:
BVG 588, 4/30/1889: " For it was not to me, it was precisely to painters such as the poor wretch about whom the enclosed article speaks that the studio could have been of use."
JLB 765, 4/30/1889: " For it wasn't for me, it was for the very painters like the unfortunate one spoken of in the enclosed article that this studio could have been of use."
Context:
BVG 588, 4/30/1889: "I was fighting a losing battle, or rather it was weakness of character on my part, for I am left with feelings of deep remorse about it, difficult to describe."
JLB 765, 4/30/1889: "It was fighting against insurmountable odds, or rather it was weakness of character on my part, for I still have feelings of grave remorse difficult to define."
Context:
JLB 765, 4/30/1889: "Now, though, I assure you that I know no hospital where one would want to take me for nothing, even supposing that I would take upon myself the expenses of my painting and would leave all my work to the hospital."
Context:
JLB 765, 4/30/1889: "If I was without your friendship I would be sent back without remorse to suicide, and however cowardly I am, I would end up going there."
Context:
JLB 766, 5/2/1889: "You should know that from one point of view you aren't to be pitied, although it may appear otherwise."
Context:
JLB 766, 5/2/1889: "Continue to be of good heart, your disasters will surely come to an end."
Context:
JLB 765, 4/30/1889: "The water from a flood rose up to a few feet from the house and, more importantly, when I came back water and saltpetre were oozing from the walls because the house had been without a fire during my absence."
Context:
JLB 765, 4/30/1889: "The water from a flood rose up to a few feet from the house and, more importantly, when I came back water and saltpetre were oozing from the walls because the house had been without a fire during my absence."
Context:
JLB 766, 5/2/1889: "However, do not believe that I don't feel all the disillusionment when you went back into your studio, for example, after the damp made it go mouldy."
Context:
JLB 765, 4/30/1889: "This study, as well as a few others, was spoiled by damp during my illness."
Context:
BVG 588, 4/30/1889: " That was a blow to me, since not only the studio had come to grief, but even the studies that would have been reminders of it. It is all so final, and my urge to found something very simple but lasting was so strong."
JLB 765, 4/30/1889: " That had an effect on me, not only the studio having foundered, but even the studies which would have been the memories of it damaged, it's so final, and my urge to found something very simple but durable was so strong."
Context:
JLB 767, 5/2/1889: "I could perhaps go again to lodge at the night café where I've stored my furniture."
BVG T9, 5/21/1889: The paintings listed in the text are mostly those that Theo mentions receiving in good condition. Vincent apparently never gave a complete inventory of the two consignments he sent, only a list of the paintings he considered "worthy of being put on stretching frames" (JLB 765, 4/30/1889). This list includes The Night Café (F 463 JH 1575), The Alyscamps (as mentioned previously, four paintings can be linked to this title: [F 568 JH 1622], [F 569 JH 1623], [F 487, JH 1621], and [F 486 JH 1620]), The Green Vineyard (F 475 JH 1595), The Red Vineyard (F 495 JH 1626), Garden with Large Conifer Bush and Oleanders [this painting has been lost and details on it are unknown], The Bedroom (F 482, JH 1608), The Sower, The Sunflowers (according to JLB, this could be either [F 455 JH 1668] or [F 485 JH 1667] [ibid., n. 32]), The Portrait of Boch (F 482 JH 1574), and some images from the "Poet's Garden" series. He sends an almost identical list in the next letter (JLB 767, 5/2/1889). Neither list includes the sunflowers, the Berceuses, the starry night, the chair, or the portrait of Roulin that Theo mentions. Vincent's list also included Laval's (Charles Laval, 1862-1894; French artist) self-portrait, Gauguin's self-portrait, and Gauguin's portrait of Bernard (ibid.). In his last letter from Arles, Vincent obliquely refers to having also included in his consignments the portraits of Madame Marie Ginoux and Madame Roulin: "You'll clearly see that the two women's expressions are different from the expressions one sees in Paris" (JLB 768, 5/3/1889).
Context:
JLB 774, 5/21/1889: "A few days ago I received your consignment, which is very important, there are some superb things in it. Everything arrived in good order and undamaged. The Berceuse [according to JLB, this probably included all four versions of La Berceuse, (F 504 JH 1655), (F 506 JH 1670), (F 507 JH 1672), and (F 508 JH 1671) (ibid.; n. 2)], the portrait of Roulin (F 433 JH 1524), the little sower, with the tree [either Sower with Setting Sun (F 450 JH 1627) or Sower with Setting Sun (F 451 JH 1629) (ibid.)], the baby [Marcelle Roulin (F 441 JH 1641)], the starry night [Starry Night over the Rhône (F 474 JH 1592)], the sunflowers [Sunflowers in a Vase (F 458 JH 1561) and Sunflowers in a Vase (F 458 JH 1667)] and the chair with the pipe and the tobacco [Van Gogh's Chair (F 498 JH 1635)] are the ones I like best up to now."
Context:
JLB 765, 4/30/1889: "Today I'm packing up a crate of paintings and studies. There's one which is flaking, onto which I've stuck newspapers -- it's one of the best and I think that when you look at it you'll see more clearly what my studio, now foundered, could have been."
Context:
JLB 765, 4/30/1889: "Today I'm packing up a crate of paintings and studies. There's one which is flaking, onto which I've stuck newspapers -- it's one of the best and I think that when you look at it you'll see more clearly what my studio, now foundered, could have been."
Context:
BVG 589, 5/2/1889: " There are lots of daubs among them, which you will have to destroy, but I have sent them, such as they are, so that you will be able to keep what seems passable to you."
JLB 767, 5/2/1889: " There's a heap of daubs in there which will have to be destroyed, but I've sent them as they are so that you can keep what appears passable to you."
Context:
JLB 760, 4/21/1889: "So there you have it, these days have been sad, moving house, transporting all my furniture, packing up the canvases which I'll send you, but above all it seemed sad to me that all that had been given to me by you with so much brotherly affection, and that for so many years, it was however you alone who supported me, and then to be obliged to come back to tell you all this sad story ..."
Context:
BVG 588, 4/30/1889: "In fact, we had several predecessors. Bruyas at Montpellier gave a whole fortune to that, a whole life, and without the slightest apparent result. Yes -- a chilly room in the municipal gallery where you can see a troubled face and many fine pictures, where you certainly feel moved, but, alas, moved as in a graveyard."
JLB 765, 4/30/1889: "Anyway, there have been more than us before, Bruyas in Montpellier gave an entire fortune to it and an entire existence and without the least apparent result. Yes -- a cold room in a municipal museum where one sees a deeply saddened face and lots of fine paintings, where certainly one is moved, but alas moved as in a cemetery."
Context:
BVG 588, 4/30/1889: " Pictures fade like flowers -- even some of Delacroix's have suffered in this way, the magnificent Daniel, Les odalisques (quite different from those in the Louvre, it was in a single range of purplish-blue), but how they impressed me, those pictures fading there, little understood, that's for sure, by most of the visitors who look at [Gustave] Courbet and [Alexandre] Cabanel and Victor Giraud, and so on."
JLB 765, 4/30/1889: The paintings fade like flowers -- thus even some Delacroixs had suffered, the magnificent Daniel, the Odalisques (quite different from those in the Louvre, it was in a single purplish range), but how that impressed me, those paintings that were fading there, little understood, it's true, by the majority of visitors who look at Courbet and Cabanel and Victor Giraud &c.
Context:
JLB 768, 5/3/1889: "And my goodness, Millet, who has hardly any colour, what work his is!"
Context:
BVG 590, 5/3/1889: "I sometimes regret I did not simply stick to the Dutch palette with its grey tones, and brush away at landscapes of Montmartre without any fuss. I am also thinking again of beginning to draw more with a reed pen, which, like last year's views of Montmajour for instance, costs less and distracts my mind just as much."
JLB 768, 5/3/1889: "I sometimes regret not having simply kept the Dutch palette of grey tones, and brushed landscapes in Montmartre without pressing the point. Also, I'm thinking of beginning to draw more with the reed pen again which, like last year's views of Montmajour, is less expensive and distracts me just as much."
Context:
BVG 590, 5/3/1889: "Listen -- do not become completely and exclusively impressionist; after all, if there is good in anything, don't let's lose sight of it. Certainly color is progressing primarily under the influence of the impressionists, even when they go astray."
JLB 768, 5/3/1889: "Listen -- don't make yourself a completely exclusive Impressionist after all, if there's good in something let's not lose sight of it. Certainly colour is making progress, precisely by the Impressionists, even when they go astray." (Emphasis in original.)
Context:
JLB 768, 5/3/1889: "Anyway, my dear brother, let's be just, and I say to you as I retire, let's think, just when we're getting too old to class ourselves with the young ones, of what we have loved in our time, Millet, Breton, Israëls, Whistler, Delacroix, Leys" (emphasis in original).
Context:
BVG 590, 5/3/1889: "Now I as a painter shall never amount to anything important, I am absolutely sure of it."
JLB 768, 5/3/1889: "Now, myself as a painter, I'll never signify anything important, I sense it absolutely."
Context:
JLB 768, 5/3/1889: "I hope that in the heap of canvases I've sent you there may be some which will end up giving you pleasure. If I remain a painter, then sooner or later I'll probably see Paris again, and I firmly promise myself that I'll thoroughly touch up several old canvases on that occasion." (Emphasis added.)
Context:
BVG 589, 5/2/1889: "However, my health is very good and I am working a little. I am doing an avenue of pink flowering chestnuts and a little cherry tree in flower and a wisteria plant and a path in the park splashed with light and shade."
JLB 767, 5/2/1889: "However, my health is very good and I'm working a little. I have on the go an avenue of chestnut trees with pink flowers with a little cherry tree in flower and a wisteria plant and the path in the park flecked with sunlight and shade."
