Notes

Notes

 

Chapters

Chapters

744 1. "Pure Italy" Edwards, p. 82: "[Charles] Gounod in his correspondence tells how they wandered about the countryside picking violets in a warm early spring, how they walked into the Alpilles, 'where is the most beautiful mountain valley that you could see anywhere; it is pure Italy; it is even Greece.'" No less than Frédéric Mistral, the great champion of the Midi, had taken Gounod on a tour of the region, a tour which included the valley and the old convent-turned-asylum (Edwards, pp. 148-149). 2. ancient Greece Edwards, p. 82. (See Ch. 39, n. 1.) 3. a small resort city Cook, pp. 116-117: "By the second century, at latest, the Roman character, long predominant, was well assured by Roman government and institutions. Judging from the area covered by the ruined remnants that have been found, Glanum cannot have held more than two thousand inhabitants at most." Cook, at least, is not impressed with the Roman determination to settle the valley permanently: "The little town that began as a market-place for Marius's [legionnary] camp was never destined for a long or an extensive existence, and was never even walled in" (ibid.). But the impressive relics that remain suggest otherwise. The Romans may have simply counted on the remoteness of the valley and on their control of the nearby heights, including Les Baux, to guard the city's only access, from the south. 4. dedicated entirely to health L'Office du Tourisme de Saint-Rémy de Provence: "During that era [the Roman era], pilgrims who came to Glanum in spring to beg the goddess Valetudo to grant them good health." 5. burst into bloom Leroy, p. 138: Leroy recounts the legend, as recorded in the Breviary of the Diocese of Aix: "Around the 5th century, the inhabitants of Reims, fleeing the invasion of the Vandals, came to settle at the foot of Mount Gaussier ... in the diocese of Avignon. A certain Paul, from a very respectable family, was one of these unfortunate refugees, with his mother and his wife ... Now one day, when Paul was working on the land, envoys from the church of Trois-Châteaux came to ask him to take over from their bishop, the blessed Terquatus, who was deceased. Paul rejects this high honour humbly but forcefully and, driving his stick into the ground ... declared, in the tone one might imagine, that he would become a bishop when this stick came into flower ... O wonder! The dry stick burst instantly into flower and Paul, obeying God's call ... made his wife enter a convent of holy nuns in Arles ... and then became the holy bishop who gave his name to the diocese and to the town of Trois-Châteaux: St-Paul Tricastin. A commemorative chapel was built in Paul's very own field and next to it, six or seven hundred years later, the Benedictines of Montmajour, no doubt finding the place propitious and the site admirable, built an extension to their abbey there, a priory which was called 'Sanctus Paulus a Mausoleo.'" Leroy claims the name honored the "Paul" whose stick bloomed, but more recent sources maintain that the monastery was dedicated to the apostle Paul (ibid.). 6. establishment of a monastery L'Office du Tourisme de Saint-Rémy de Provence: The earliest chapel, dedicated to St. Peter and under charter to the bishop of Avignon, already existed on the site by 982 CE. The surviving monastery church was built in the eleventh century and dedicated to St. Paul the Apostle (not St. Paul Tricastin). At this time (1080 CE), the monastery acquired its distinctive appellation, "Saint Paul de Mausole." 7. funerary monument The Mausolée des Jules (mausoleum of the Julii) is a fifty-foot high, tripartite monument that is dedicated to two members of a prominent Roman clan, father and son, who died in Julius Caesar's Gallic Wars. It dates from about 30 BCE. Cook retells the legend that Caesar himself erected the monument "upon the spot where the Barbarians had first confronted the legions of Marius, and where Marius himself had dictated the whole strategy of his victorious campaign" (Cook, p. 26). 8. for troubled minds L'Office du Tourisme de Saint-Rémy de Provence: "This pagan belief in the restorative powers [of the valley] has survived during the ages, up until the times when Christians of Glanum founded this priory which always had the task of providing succor to the rejected and especially the mentally ill." 9. survived all the waves L'Office du Tourisme de Saint-Rémy de Provence: Jurisdiction of the monastery of Saint Paul de Mausole passed from the original Benedictine founders (who probably came from the abbey at nearby Les Baux), thence to the Franciscan order in the seventeenth century. In 1768, when the monarchy moved to do away with the monasteries, a special dispensation was given to St. Paul de Mausole apparently because of its indispensible mission of "welcoming [as] boarders into the Convent, people who have the misfortune to become insane" (ibid.). This included even some lunatics transferred from the King's prisons. During the Revolution, the monastery was sold and the monks dispersed (see Leroy, p. 139), but its function as an asylum for the insane continued uninterrupted: the Revolution, apparently, having no less need for a place to sequester lunatics than the monarchy. 10. plague "Brochure for the Asylum," in Stein, ed., p. 148: According to the asylum's brochure, the "salubrious and pure climate ... preserved [Saint-Rémy] from the sicknesses and epidemics that flourished in the south of France." 745 11. sprawling complex "Brochure for the Asylum," in Stein, ed., pp. 147-148: According to a brochure like the one Vincent and Theo saw, the "institution" included 54,000 square meters of land (about ten acres), of which 8,500 square meters (about 77,000 square feet) was "covered with buildings." The brochure goes on to inventory the buildings: the chapel, the "antique cloister, where are grouped the general services, kitchen, stores and offices, refectories of the sisters and the ladies, and a parlor for family visits"; two "single-story buildings set back at right angles [from the chapel and cloister]. These constitute the men's quarters -- at the head of which is the director's pavilion -- and that of the ladies." Presumably there were also ancillary service buildings not described in the brochure. 12. hardly mentioned "Brochure for the Asylum," in Stein, ed., p. 148: The brochure does mention the "richly decorated chapel at the center" of the facility and assures devout families that "religious ceremonies are nobly observed." In its inventory of facilities, it lists the accommodations for "sisters" (ibid.), but does not name their order (which was Saint Joseph d'Aubenas, having replaced the earlier sisters of Saint Vincent de Paul [see Edwards, p. 149]). A sense of how peripheral its religious roots had become can be seen in this reassuring aside to brochure browsers: "On each side of the chapel and cloister in opposite directions to one another are single-story buildings set back at right angles. These constitute the men's quarters -- at the head of which is the director's pavilion -- and that of the ladies, completely separated from one another, yet permitting the sick to go under cover to the chapel in all seasons." (ibid.). 13. "jewel-enameled sky" Quoted in Caird, p. 348: In an account from about 1900, one visitor wrote about a visit to the valley of Saint-Rémy: "From the windows of our rooms one can see above the trees the fantastic summits of the Alpilles. They are clear against a 'jewel-enameled sky.'" 14. "Air, light, space" "Brochure for the Asylum," in Stein, ed., p. 148. 15. two-hour train trip b1054 V/1962, "Salles, Frederic" to "Gogh, Vincent van", 5/5/1889: On May 5, Reverend Frédéric Salles wrote a message for Vincent on a visiting card: "Between my absence tomorrow and being occupied after Tuesday, I put myself at your disposal to accompany you Wednesday [May 8] to St Remy. We will leave by train at 8:51, if that is convenient for you. Having already seen M. [Théophile] Peyron, it is appropriate for me to accompany you myself." A contemporary advertisement for the asylum informs prospective clients: "How to get there: Railway Paris-Lyon Mediterranean. Tarascon station, from where a branch line reaches Saint-Remy in 80 minutes" ("Advertisement for the Asylum," in Stein, ed., p. 151). Vincent may have taken a diligence as far as Tarascon, or, since he was traveling with Salles and luggage, just taken the train to Tarascon and changed to the Saint-Rémy spur. In any event, Clébert and Richard's account of a dramatic stagecoach ride into the mountains is at least half wrong: "The route des Alpilles which led from Arles to Saint-Rémy, a place some 25 kilometres away to which van Gogh travels in the jolting stagecoach on May 8 1889 was white and very dusty. But in his unhappiness he has the pleasure of discovering the magnificent chain of the Alpilles, one of the finest little mountains in Provence, whose jagged yet sublime look is quite appropriate to his mind, which is tormented by the inaccessibility of pure beauty." (Clébert and Richard, p. 93.) 746 16. Hell's Gate Cook, pp. 74-75: Cook refers to the "Vallon d'Infer" without translating the term. Later, he translates it as "Gorge of Hell" (ibid., p. 126). 17. tended gardens "Brochure for the Asylum," in Stein, ed., p. 148: From the brochure: "Shady, well-planted gardens and parks, provided with fountains and maintained with care, surround the buildings and provide diversions." 18. shared mealtimes Coquiot, p. 217: "Meals at fixed times, surveillance by the warders and chief warders; baths and showers. That was deemed to be a full schedule." Vincent confirms that food was offered in "regulated quantities and at fixed times" (JLB 776, 5/23/1889). 19. left on their own Coquiot, p. 216: Coquiot reports that because "there was no fear of receiving an inspection visit ... the asylum ran itself." 20. watchful supervision Coquiot, p. 217. (See Ch. 39, n. 18.) 21. Saint Paul lured "Brochure for the Asylum," in Stein, ed., pp. 149-150. (See Ch. 39, n. 22.) 22. repugnant public asylums "Brochure for the Asylum," in Stein, ed., pp. 149-150: This was, of course, one of Saint Paul's selling points, as is made clear in their brochure: "Because of the low-priced board, this beautiful institution is a resource for numerous families whose finances prevent them from placing their sick in very high-priced private asylums and yet who find the public asylums greatly repugnant." 23. hygienic conditions "Brochure for the Asylum," in Stein, ed., pp. 148-149: "Good hygiene, a comfort many wrongly think these sick people do not perceive, always lends great power to the treatment." 24. "abundant, varied" "Brochure for the Asylum," in Stein, ed., pp. 148-149: "A skillful kitchen chef is charged with preparing choice, first-quality foods. The sick are guaranteed healthy food -- abundant, varied, and even rare -- according to the class of boarders to which they belong. The institution's Swiss cow barn provides plentiful natural dairy foods. These are the means by which we have so often obtained satisfactory results." 25. frequent outings "Brochure for the Asylum," in Stein, ed., pp. 147-148: The brochure's sales pitch combines the homespun wisdom of fresh-air therapy with notions of Romantic Nature as well as Classical edification: "[The asylum] is bounded on three sides by the grounds of a farm belonging to the same owner. The Alps rise above it in the south, ending in strange crests that leave between them and the asylum a very uneven ground interspersed with small picturesque valleys, in which the infirm are often taken on walks. In the west, at the gates of the institution, there stand a triumphal arch and a mausoleum, antique monuments sufficiently well-preserved, the glorious remains of Roman grandeur. ... The asylum dominates a rich, spacious, and pleasant countryside; in the north, one kilometer lower, is the city of Saint-Remy, the ancient city of Glanum, well-known for its salubrious and pure climate, which preserved it from the sicknesses and epidemics that flourished in the south of France. ... The horizon extends up to the mountains of the Card and the Vaucluse and forms a magnificent panorama in which Avignon on one side and Tarascon on the other can be distinguished." 26. scenic views "Brochure for the Asylum," in Stein, ed., p. 148: "The changing terrain offers up a variety of scenic views." (Also see Ch. 39, n. 25.) 27. radiator heat "Brochure for the Asylum," in Stein, ed., p. 148: This was not only considered a modern form of heating "which provide[s] a gentle, uniform heat," but also, as the brochure discreetly reminds, "always safe for the boarders" -- that is, for patients who could not be trusted with the flame of a conventional gas or wood stove. 28. modern medical treatment "Brochure for the Asylum," in Stein, ed., pp. 148-149: The brochure is vague on the treatments offered, ostensibly out of discretion: "We cannot discuss here the subject of the medical care or treatment except in generalities concerning those illnesses falling under the name of mental alienation; these evidence among them such differences that it would be very difficult to describe the treatments." 29. "gentleness and benevolence" "Brochure for the Asylum," in Stein, ed., pp. 148-149: The brochure both apologizes for past abuses in the treatment of the mentally ill and distances itself from that legacy: "Let us say only that since founding the institution, the cruelty with which we once treated the mentally ill has been replaced by humane understanding. Moreover, incomparably superior treatments, without constraints but by means of gentleness and benevolence, were put into practice in this asylum well before we published their fine results." 30. without resort "Brochure for the Asylum," in Stein, ed., pp. 148-149. (See Ch. 39, n. 29.) Note that Leroy translates one of Vincent's letters (JLB 777, 5/31/1889-6/6/1889) to suggest that, in cases of extreme agitation, straitjackets were used (Leroy, pp. 157-158). The Bonger translation says merely that the patient in question "smashes everything and shouts day and night, he wildly tears his shirts, too." JLB translate the term "les camisoles de force" as "straitjackets": "A new person has arrived who is so agitated that he breaks everything and shouts day and night, he also tears the straitjackets ..." (JLB 777, 5/31/1889-6/6/1889). 31. "manual work" "Brochure for the Asylum," in Stein, ed., pp. 148-149: "The use of medications, whose efficacy has been demonstrated, and variety in works of the spirit, including manual work and amusements; such are the customary means to which we have recourse." 32. "according to" "Brochure for the Asylum," in Stein, ed., p. 148: Most of the population occupied the dormitories -- male and female separate, of course -- which are described thus: "rooms and bathrooms provided with showers, spacious dormitories, a long series of rooms and private apartments, and common living rooms." 33. "plentiful natural dairy" "Brochure for the Asylum," in Stein, ed., pp. 148-149. 34. Rooms were set aside "Brochure for the Asylum," in Stein, ed., p. 148: "The ladies' parlors are provided with lateral workrooms; those of the men, with billiard rooms, music, and a bureau for writing or drawing. Illustrated journals, books, and various games fit for recreation are at their disposal." Apparently, the privileges of music, writing, and drawing were available only to the male patients. 35. A library Vincent complains that his fellow inmates don't read, but he acknowledges that books are available in his report from January the next year (1890) of having recently seen a book by his old favorite, Jules Michelet: "I've just seen a volume of Michelet's (illustrated) Histoire de France. I saw admirable drawings in it by [Daniel Urrabieta] Vierge which were completely like something by Victor Hugo, astonishing things." (JLB 834, 1/3/1890; emphasis in original.) 36. "illustrated journals" "Brochure for the Asylum," in Stein, ed., p. 148. (See Ch. 39, n. 34.) 37. music, write, or draw "Brochure for the Asylum," in Stein, ed., p. 148. (See Ch. 39, n. 34.) 38. "higher social rank" "Brochure for the Asylum," in Stein, ed., p. 148. 39. "domestics dedicated" "Brochure for the Asylum," in Stein, ed., p. 150: This comes from the contemporary description of "first class" accommodations at the asylum: "Finally, those admitted under the title of higher boarders are furnished apartments of several rooms with luxury; their food is not only complete and varied but even rare. Moreover, they enjoy several special privileges; some have a male or female domestic designated to their service, who sleeps next to the sick person." This latter privilege was available for an additional fee, "established amiably with the director." 40. tall, knotty pines Rewald, pp. 303-304. 41. pathways bordered Rewald, pp. 303-304. 42. iris and laurel Rewald describes "a beautiful alley of pine trees and a path profusely bordered by irises and laurels" leading to the director's residence (Rewald, pp. 303-304). Clébert and Richard mention paths bordered in "iris and lilac" (Clébert and Richard, p. 56). 43. Fewer than half BVG 592, 5/22/1889. Vincent reports: "there are more than 30 empty rooms" but this undoubtedly refers just to the men's dormitory (JLB 776, 5/23/1889). We have assumed that the asylum's overall capacity was around eighty (although the women's dormitory occupied a larger building than the men's dormitory) and have accepted the various accounts that the asylum was, over all, about half-full at the time Vincent was admitted (Clébert and Richard, p. 56). That would put the total patient population somewhere around forty, of which about a third were men and two thirds women. Druick and Zegers put the number of patients at forty-five (Druick and Zegers, p. 273).

Context:
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "With this -- as there are more than 30 empty rooms -- I have another room in which to work."

44. twice that number of women See Ch. 39, n. 43. 45. female affliction The classic text on the subject is Veith's Hysteri. For a more recent and comprehensive study, see Michale, Approaching Hysteria. See also Gilman et al., Hysteria Beyond Freud. 46. "first-quality foods" "Brochure for the Asylum," in Stein, ed., p. 148. 47. "well-planted gardens" "Brochure for the Asylum," in Stein, ed., p. 148. 48. "a bit musty" BVG 592, 5/22/1889.

Context:
BVG 592, 5/22/1889: "The food is all right as far as it goes. It tastes a bit musty, of course, as in a cockroach-infested restaurant in Paris, or in a boarding-house."
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "The food is so-so. It smells naturally a little musty, as in a cockroach-ridden restaurant in Paris or a boarding school."

49. heavy on beans BVG 592, 5/22/1889.

Context:
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "As these unfortunates do absolutely nothing (not a book, nothing to distract them but a game of boules and a game of draughts) they have no other daily distraction than to stuff themselves with chickpeas, haricot beans, lentils and other groceries and colonial foodstuffs by the regulated quantities and at fixed times."

50. "as in a cockroach-infested" BVG 592, 5/22/1889.

Context:
BVG 592, 5/22/1889: "The food is all right as far as it goes. It tastes a bit musty, of course, as in a cockroach-infested restaurant in Paris, or in a boarding-house."
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "The food is so-so. It smells naturally a little musty, as in a cockroach-ridden restaurant in Paris or a boarding school."

51. "neglected gardens" BVG 592, 5/22/1889: By "outside," Vincent means outside the asylum enclosure.

Context:
BVG 592, 5/22/1889: "Since I've been here, there's been enough work for me to do, what with the neglected garden with its tall pines and long, unkempt grass mixed with all sorts of weeds, and I haven't even been outside."
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "Since I've been here, the neglected garden planted with tall pines under which grows tall and badly tended grass intermingled with various weeds, has provided me with enough work, and I haven't yet gone outside."

52. Dr. Théophile Peyron Leroy, p. 139: Leroy quotes from an angry letter sent to Peyron by a former patient: "I squint almost as much as you do, and that's saying something," and "depicted him with a huge stomach, half Silenus, half Falstaff." Silenus was a satyr and mythological companion of Bacchus, the god of drink and, more generally, overindulgence. Silenus was usually depicted as a fat old man with a bald head and pug nose, not unlike Shakespeare's famous avatar of excess, Falstaff. 53. fat, bespectacled widower BVG 593, 6/2/1889: Vincent describes Peyron as " un petit homme goutteux -- veuf depuis quelques années et qui a des lunettes très noires [a little gouty man -- widowed a few years ago -- who has very dark spectacles]" (JLB 777, 5/31/1889-6/6/1889). He continues: "As the establishment is a little moribund, the man appears to take only a rather half-hearted enjoyment in this profession, and besides there's reason enough for it" (ibid.). There is disagreement in the literature about Peyron's age. Lubin refers to him as "the fifty-year-old doctor" (pp. 186-187), apparently relying, like much of the literature, on Gastaut, Morin, and Lesèvre (ibid., p. 24), who in turn relied vaguely ("[Peyron] must have been born around 1839") on Leroy's unsupported statement in his 1926 report that Peyron was "then about fifty years old" (Leroy, p. 139). Without sourcing, Arnold supplies dates for Peyron (1827-1895) that would make him at least sixty-one, however, not fifty, when Vincent arrived at Saint Paul (Arnold, p. 212). The older age is more consistent with his status as both widower and retired naval officer, although the gout may have precipitated the latter. JLB give the same dates (1827-1895) as Arnold.

Context:
JLB 777, 5/31/1889-6/6/1889: "He's a little gouty man -- widowed a few years ago -- who has very dark spectacles."

54. a quick temper BVG 639, 5/25/1890: On his departure from Saint Paul in May 1890, Vincent wrote about a final argument with the director.

Context:
JLB 878, 6/5/1890: "I decided that it was time to change surroundings, if I wanted to preserve my capacity for work, such as it is, and what remains to me of common sense. I wrote that to Dr. Peyron this very day. I'd had words with him about it, but we still parted on good terms."

55. gouty leg BVG 593, 6/2/1889.

Context:
JLB 777, 5/31/1889-6/6/1889: "He's a little gouty man -- widowed a few years ago -- who has very dark spectacles."

747 56. "mental alienation"Quoted in Goldstein, p., 98-99. 57. an ophthalmologist Leroy, p. 140: Leroy quotes Peyron joking: "Before, I used to care for the eyes of the body; now I care for the eyes of the soul; it is still the same job." The quote is a telling insight into the old-fashioned, moralistic/religious way in which Peyron viewed mental illness -- a paradigm that the great French psychiatrists of the nineteenth century (of which there were many) had spent decades trying to dismantle. With the exception of the lower classes and the devoutly religious (and, apparently, the older medical establishment), this effort had largely succeeded by the time Vincent entered the asylum at Saint-Rémy. Still, Leroy insists that Peyron "whilst not a psychiatrist, he nevertheless kept abreast of what was then known about mental illness" (ibid.). 58. retirement sinecure BVG 593, 6/2/1889. Coquiot reports that, "there was no fear of receiving an inspection visit ... And so the asylum ran itself, Doctor Peyron being a paternal sort of doctor, a good-hearted man, but one to whom nervous and mental illness, in all their various forms, remained a complete mystery" (Coquiot, p. 216).

Context:
JLB 777, 5/31/1889-6/6/1889: "As the establishment is a little moribund, the man appears to take only a rather half-hearted enjoyment in this profession, and besides there's reason enough for it."

59. rigorous log Leroy, p. 182: Leroy reported Peyron's Queeg-like meticulousness in his 1926 report: "He guarded his authority so jealously that he required the concierge to give him a list of the day's comings and goings every evening: the butcher arrived at such and such a time, the baker left at such and such a time, a nun entered or left, the chaplain, or the gardener, or a warden came or went." 60. squeezed the budget Rewald, pp. 303-304: "Dr. Peyron ran the establishment on an extremely parsimonious budget and seems to have been concerned mainly with keeping his patients alive rather than with treating their afflictions by the best means science could afford in those days." According to Gastaut, Peyron's "parsimonious budget" favored building upkeep over patient comfort: "He gave more time for the maintenance of his buildings than to his patients" (Gastaut, "Mémoires Originaux," p. 199). 61. secluded courtyard Coquiot, pp. 215-216: Coquiot reports that while interviewing a former staff member of the asylum, Madame Deschanel (Sister Épiphane), who had been there during Vincent's stay, she "showed me the grassy courtyard where they used to put the patients who were agitated. Behind a wall pines, and poplars, and cypress trees swayed against each other and sang their song of human misery." 62. briglike ward BVG 592, 5/22/1889.

Context:
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "It's true that there are some who are in a more serious condition, whether they be filthy, or dangerous. These are in another courtyard."

63. "boarders" "Brochure for the Asylum," in Stein, ed., p. 148: This the word repeatedly used in the asylum's literature to refer to the patients or inmates. 64. "I think I have done well" BVG 591, 5/10/1889-5/15/1889.

Context:
BVG 591, 5/10/1889-5/15/1889: "I wanted to tell you that I think I have done well to come here; first of all by seeing the reality of the life of the various madmen and lunatics in this menagerie, I am losing the vague dread, the fear of the thing. And little by little I can come to look upon madness as a disease like any other. Then the change of surroundings does me good, I think."
JLB 772, 5/9/1889: "I wanted to tell you that I think I've done well to come here, first, in seeing the reality of the life of the diverse mad or cracked people in this menagerie, I'm losing the vague dread, the fear of the thing. And little by little I can come to consider madness as being an illness like any other. Then the change of surroundings is doing me good, I imagine." (Emphasis in original.)

65. "I have never been" BVG 591, 5/10/1889-5/15/1889.

Context:
BVG 591, 5/10/1889-5/15/1889: "It may well be that I shall stay here long enough -- I have never been so peaceful as here and in the hospital in Arles -- to be able to paint a little at least."
JLB 772, 5/9/1889: "It's possible that I'll stay here for quite a long time, never have I been so tranquil as here and at the hospital in Arles to be able to paint a little at last."

66. "I have a small room" BVG 592, 5/22/1889.

Context:
BVG 592, 5/22/1889: " I have a small room with greenish-gray paper with two sea-green curtains with a design of very pale roses, brightened by touches of blood-red. These curtains, probably the legacy of some deceased and ruined rich person, are very pretty in design."
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: " I have a little room with grey-green paper with two water-green curtains with designs of very pale roses enlivened with thin lines of blood-red. These curtains, probably the leftovers of a ruined, deceased rich man, are very pretty in design."

67. "[It] is covered" BVG 592, 5/22/1889.

Context:
BVG 592, 5/22/1889: "A very worn armchair, probably from the same source, is covered with a tapestry speckled like a [Narcisse Virgile Diaz] Diaz [de la Peña] or a [Adolphe] Monticelli in brown, red, pink, white, cream, black, forget-me-not blue and bottle green."
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "Probably from the same source comes a very worn armchair covered with a tapestry flecked in the manner of a Diaz or a Monticelli, red-brown, pink, creamy white, black, forget-me-not blue and bottle green."

68. "a prospect" BVG 592, 5/22/1889.

Context:
BVG 592, 5/22/1889: "Through the iron-barred window I can see an enclosed square of wheat, a prospect like a [Jan] Van Goyen, above which, in the morning, I watch the sun rise in all its glory."
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "Through the iron-barred window I can make out a square of wheat in an enclosure, a perspective in the manner of Van Goyen, above which in the morning I see the sun rise in its glory."

69. "in the morning" BVG 592, 5/22/1889.

Context:
BVG 592, 5/22/1889: "Through the iron-barred window I can see an enclosed square of wheat, a prospect like a Van Goyen, above which, in the morning, I watch the sun rise in all its glory."
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "Through the iron-barred window I can make out a square of wheat in an enclosure, a perspective in the manner of Van Goyen, above which in the morning I see the sun rise in its glory."

70. "Where I must" BVG 589, 5/2/1889 and JLB 767, 5/2/1889: We combined elements from both translations.

Context:
BVG 589, 5/2/1889: " Where I have to follow a rule, as here in the hospital, I feel at peace."
JLB 767, 5/2/1889: " Where I must follow a rule, like here at the hospital, I feel more tranquil" (emphasis in original).

71. eat regularly As Rewald points out, Vincent's later reports appear to turn his early, light-hearted criticism of the food at the asylum into a worrisome hint of self-starvation (Rewald, p. 310, n. 33). Four months later (in September 1889), he writes Theo: "And I'll tell you now that from the first day I refused to take this food, and until my crisis I ate nothing but bread and a little soup, which I'll continue to do as long as I remain here" (JLB 801, 9/10/1889). Unlike Rewald, we do not take this as an accurate report. It comes in a long postscript to a very long letter following a month of severe psychotic attacks. The entire letter is consumed by desperate arguments for leaving the asylum and returning north, to, for example, live with Camille Pissarro. Vincent even entertains the possibility of moving in with Paul Gauguin in Pont-Aven.

He blames his worsening condition on the asylum, of course, heaping calumny on its religious culture, its director Peyron, its failure to treat his illness, and, of course, its food. So fevered and incoherent is the letter that, while the postscript indicts the food, earlier in the body of the letter, Vincent admits eating the same food "ravenously" -- enough for two. Not only is this testimony unreliable, but we have Peyron's letter written about two weeks after Vincent's admission, in which he reports that Vincent "has a more peaceful and restoring sleep; he also eats with better appetite" (b1058 V/1962, ''Peyron, Th.'' to ''Gogh, Theo van'', 5/26/1889). The two accounts might be reconcilable if one assumes Vincent's later account exaggerates a brief introductory period at the asylum in which he disdained the food. This would be the same early period in which Peyron reports, in the same letter, "[Vincent] was subject to painful nightmares which upset him" (ibid.). It should also be noted that, in the intervening four months between these two very different reports, Vincent says repeatedly how much he is enjoying life at the asylum, reports that his stomach is feeling "infinitely better" (JLB 776, 5/23/1889) and his "health is good" (JLB 777, 5/31/1889-6/6/1889), and insists (as late as mid-June) that, on account of better eating, more moderate drinking, and smoking, "[a]s for me, it's going well" (JLB 782, 6/18/1889).

While it is true, as we argue elsewhere, that Vincent often consciously misled his brother in order not to worry him, and one could view his months of glowing reports from the asylum in that light (as Rewald does), in this case we think Rewald undervalues the true relief Vincent felt at having the heavy responsibilities of Arles lifted from his shoulders -- at least temporarily -- and overvalues the histrionic complaints of September. Rewald, like many commentators, may have drunk too deeply from the well of Jo Bonger's bourgeois horror at Vincent's confinement in a mental asylum -- a fate in which she clearly could not imagine any decent person finding comfort. Her account of Vincent's entrance into Saint Paul is a study in nineteenth-century clichés of mental institutions as anterooms to Hell: "[Salles's] leave-taking broke the last tie that united Vincent with the outer world; he stayed behind in what was worse than the greatest loneliness, surrounded by neurotics and lunatics, with nobody to whom he could talk, nobody who understood him. ... Vincent spent a full year in these cheerless surroundings, struggling with unbroken energy against the ever-returning attacks of his illness but continuing his work with the old restless zeal which alone could keep him living now that everything else had failed him. ... It was no longer the buoyant, sunny, triumphant work of Arles. There sounded a deeper, sadder tone than the piercing clarion of his symphonies in yellow during the previous year." (Van Gogh-Bonger, in Van Gogh, pp. xlix-l.) One has only to recall the horrors of Vincent's time in Arles, and the freely-brushed, carefree landscapes from Saint-Rémy, to see the meaningless tropes at work in Bonger's summation.

72. "one can see" BVG 598, 7/2/1889.

Context:
BVG 598, 7/2/1889: "Besides, the hills full of thyme and other aromatic plants are very nice here, and because of the clearness of the air, from the heights one can see so much farther here than at home."
JLB 788, 7/8/1889-7/12/1889: "Then the hills here, full of thyme and other aromatic plants, are very beautiful, and because of the clarity of the air one can see from the heights so much further than at home."

73. "I never get tired" BVG 598, 7/2/1889.

Context:
BVG 598, 7/2/1889: "Then I never get tired of the blue sky."
JLB 788, 7/8/1889-7/12/1889: "Then I never tire of the blue sky."

74. Twice a week BVG 595, 6/17/1889-6/18/1889.

Context:
JLB 782, 6/18/1889: "As for me, it's going well -- you'll understand that after almost half a year now of absolute sobriety in eating, drinking, smoking, with two two-hour baths a week recently, this must clearly calm one down a great deal."

75. "steadies me a lot" BVG 595, 6/17/1889-6/18/1889.

Context:
BVG 595, 6/17/1889-6/18/1889: "Things are going well with me. You will understand that after almost half a year now of absolute frugality in eating, drinking, smoking, with two-hour baths twice a week of late, it's evident that it should steady me a lot."
JLB 782, 6/18/1889: "As for me, it's going well -- you'll understand that after almost half a year now of absolute sobriety in eating, drinking, smoking, with two two-hour baths a week recently, this must clearly calm one down a great deal."

76. read a book BVG 621, 1/3/1890. (See Ch. 39, n. 35.)

Context:
JLB 834, 1/3/1890: "In your previous letter you talk of Hugo's drawings -- I've just seen a volume of Michelet's (illustrated) Histoire de France. I saw admirable drawings in it by Vierge which were completely like something by Victor Hugo, astonishing things." (Emphasis in original.)

77. newspaper BVG 597, 7/2/1889.

Context:
JLB 784, 7/2/1889: "In a newspaper I was reading a letter from a collector of Greek objects to one of his friends, which contained this phrase 'you who love nature, I who love all that the hand of man has made, this difference in our tastes deep down creates the unity in it.'"

78. smoke in peace BVG 594, 6/9/1889: Despite some accounts to the contrary, smoking was allowed -- or, to be more precise, Vincent did smoke.

Context:
JLB 779, 6/9/1889: "Thanks very much for the consignment of canvases, colours, brushes, tobacco and chocolate, which reached me in good order."

79. The great weights See Ch. 39, n. 71. 80. "We don't have to" BVG 590, 5/3/1889.

Context:
BVG 590, 5/3/1889: "Now that you are married, we don't have to live for great ideas any longer, but, believe me, for small ones only. And I find that a wonderful relief, and don't complain of it at all."
JLB 768, 5/3/1889: "Now that you're married we no longer have to live for great ideas but, believe it, for little ones only. And I find that a real relief which I don't complain about at all."

81. "grinding daily task" BVG 478, 4/21/1888: In this comment from a year earlier in Arles, one can hear the relief that Vincent must have felt, but dared not admit, as he entered his new "prison" in Saint-Rémy.

Context:
BVG 478, 4/21/1888: "When a man comes out of prison after having been there a long time, there will be moments when he will even miss his prison, because he finds himself at a loss now that he is at liberty -- so called, I suppose, because the grinding daily task of earning your living hardly leaves any liberty at all."
JLB 600, 4/20/1888: "When a man comes out of prison after having spent a long time there, there are times when he even misses prison, because he feels disoriented once he's at liberty, probably so called because the exhausting daily task of earning one's living leaves one hardly any liberty."

82. "crushing feeling" BVG 589, 5/2/1889. (See Ch. 38, n. 350.)

Context:
BVG 589, 5/2/1889: "But the money painting costs crushes me with a feeling of debt and worthlessness, and it would be a good thing if it were possible that this should stop."
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."

83. "Because there are mountains" BVG 593, 6/2/1889.

Context:
JLB 777, 5/31/1889-6/6/1889: "The mistral (since there are a few mountains here) appears far less annoying than in Arles, where you always get it at first hand."

748 84. "They say we must" BVG 592, 5/22/1889.

Context:
BVG 592, 5/22/1889: " They say we must tolerate others so that the others may tolerate us, and other very sound arguments, which they put into practice, too. And we understand each other very well. Sometimes, for instance, I can talk with one of them who can only reply in incoherent sounds, because he is not afraid of me."
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: " They say, one must suffer others for the others to suffer us, and other very true reasonings that they thus put into practice. And between ourselves we understand each other very well, I can, for example, chat sometimes with one who doesn't reply except in incoherent sounds, because he isn't afraid of me."

85. spent most of his time BVG 592, 5/22/1889.

Context:
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "When I send you the 4 canvases of the garden I have on the go you'll see that, considering that life happens above all in the garden, it isn't so sad."

86. peace he needed to work BVG 579, 3/19/1889.

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. Then -- my word -- I would resign myself. But we aren't even there yet, and if I'd had my tranquillity I'd have been back on my feet long ago."

87. games of boules BVG 592, 5/22/1889.

Context:
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "As these unfortunates do absolutely nothing (not a book, nothing to distract them but a game of boules and a game of draughts) they have no other daily distraction than to stuff themselves with chickpeas, haricot beans, lentils and other groceries and colonial foodstuffs by the regulated quantities and at fixed times."

88. "the good people" BVG 591, 5/10/1889-5/15/1889: We have reordered Bonger's translation.

Context:
BVG 591, 5/10/1889-5/15/1889: "When I am working in the garden, they all come to look, and I assure you they have the discretion and manners to leave me alone -- more than the good people of the town of Arles, for instance."
JLB 772, 5/9/1889: "They all come to see when I'm working in the garden, and I can assure you are more discreet and more polite to leave me in peace than, for example, the good citizens of Arles."

89. "It has always been" BVG W11, 4/30/1889: This echoes Vincent's previous, more extended argument -- also directed to Wil -- that the impressionists' picture-making constituted an entertainment that deserved an audience in its own right: "There are at least a score of fellows who in an hour or so can paint a portrait with character in it -- people hardly ever ask for one -- 20 or so fellows who can do whatever landscape you please, at whatever hour of the day, with whatever colour effect you please, on the spot, without hesitation -- nobody looks on, they always work alone. If only everyone knew this, though -- but you see the circumstances are so little known." (JLB 626, 6/16/1888-6/20/1888.) For a fuller discussion of this strain in Vincent's thinking (and in his art), see Ch. 32, n. 137.

Context:
BVG W11, 4/30/1889: "It is probable that people here won't see very much in it, but nevertheless it has always been my great desire to paint for those who do not know the artistic aspect of a picture."
JLB 764, 4/28/1889-5/2/1889: "The people here probably don't see much in it, but however it has always been so much my desire to paint for those who don't know the artistic side of a painting."

90. victim of a family quarrel Clébert and Richard, p. 53: According to Clébert and Richard, the asylum at Saint-Rémy "quickly won great critical acclaim ... because in contrast to ordinary asylums this former monastery offered its (wealthy) inmates a level of comfort worthy of a tourist hotel, pleasant grounds and constitutionals to strengthen not only the unsteady physical state but also the attenuated aesthetic sense of the unfortunate souls whom various incidents and family quarrels had caused to be detained here, often for life." The asylum's decline, according to Clébert and Richard, was due in part to the increasing difficulty of disposing of unwelcome family members due to changes in the law working in tandem with improvements in the science of mental illness: "Middle class families who have particular problems with their offspring, situations which need to be hushed up or an inheritance problem to be put conveniently out of the way no longer have lettres de cachet or medical certificates issued by obliging doctors at their disposal." (ibid.) 91. "ruined rich person" BVG 592, 5/22/1889.

Context:
BVG 592, 5/22/1889: "These curtains, probably the legacy of some deceased and ruined rich person, are very pretty in design."
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "These curtains, probably the leftovers of a ruined, deceased rich man, are very pretty in design."

92. insisted on dressing BVG 592, 5/22/1889.

Context:
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "The room where we stay on rainy days is like a 3rd-class waiting room in some stagnant village, all the more so since there are honourable madmen who always wear a hat, spectacles and travelling clothes and carry a cane, almost like at the seaside."

749 93. "greatly overtired"Leroy, pp. 156-157. 94. accused pedophileLeroy, pp. 156-157. 95. "idiot"Leroy, p. 156: Leroy identifies the fellow patient Vincent mentions "who doesn't reply except in incoherent sounds" (JLB 776, 5/23/1889): "Here the painter is clearly referring to the idiot, then aged 23, who according to the register of admissions 'only uttered inarticulate words … He has never been able to learn anything and sometimes presented with a state of nervous agitation which leads him to commit acts of violence for the most trivial reasons … '" 96. "I can talk"BVG 592, 5/22/1889.

Context:
BVG 592, 5/22/1889: "And we understand each other very well. Sometimes, for instance, I can talk with one of them who can only reply in incoherent sounds, because he is not afraid of me."
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "And between ourselves we understand each other very well, I can, for example, chat sometimes with one who doesn't reply except in incoherent sounds, because he isn't afraid of me."

97. There were shoutersBVG 592, 5/22/1889.

Context:
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "There's one person here who has been shouting and always talking, like me, for a fortnight, he thinks he hears voices and words in the echo of the corridors, probably because the auditory nerve is sick and too sensitive, and with me it was both the sight and the hearing at the same time which, according to what [Dr. Félix] Rey said one day, is usual at the beginning of epilepsy" (emphasis in original).

98. at night, howlersBVG 591, 5/10/1889-5/15/1889. "One continually hears shouts and terrible howls as though of the animals in a menagerie" (JLB 772, 5/9/1889).

Context:
JLB 772, 5/9/1889: "And although one continually hears shouts and terrible howls as though of the animals in a menagerie, despite this the people here know each other very well, and help each other when they suffer crises."

99. fits of paranoiaLeroy, pp. 156-157: According to Leroy's reading of the asylum records, this was the "overtired" law student: "we can be certain that [Vincent] cannot have paid much attention to this neighbor of his, who was at the time suffering from 'a persecution complex and hearing voices … He claimed he was being followed by the secret police.'" Leroy refers to "quite a little procession of rowdy maniacs at the asylum," describing one of them who "lives in constant fear 'of being poisoned or murdered. He shouts all the time: he puts clothes on all wrong in a quite ridiculous way. Generally he's pretty rowdy and causes violent scenes, smashing up furniture and mirrors.'" And another patient, transferred from the asylum at Vanves, who had "frequent fits of manic agitation." (ibid.) 100. "People get to know" BVG 591, 5/10/1889-5/15/1889.

Context:
BVG 591, 5/10/1889-5/15/1889: "And though here you continually hear terrible cries and howls like beasts in a menagerie, in spite of that people get to know each other very well and help each other when their attacks come on."
JLB 772, 5/9/1889: "And although one continually hears shouts and terrible howls as though of the animals in a menagerie, despite this the people here know each other very well, and help each other when they suffer crises."

101. "smashes everything" BVG 593, 6/2/1889. Based on his review of the asylum records, Leroy identifies the patient Vincent describes as a twenty-seven-year-old man "suffering from acute mania" (Leroy, pp. 157-158). We have combined elements from both translations.

Context:
BVG 593, 6/2/1889: "A new man has arrived, who is so worked up that he smashes everything and shouts day and night, he wildly tears his shirts, too, and up till now, though he is in a bath all day long, he is hardly getting any quieter; he destroys his bed and everything else in his room, upsets his food, etc."
JLB 777, 5/31/1889-6/6/1889: "A new person has arrived who is so agitated that he breaks everything and shouts day and night, he also tears the straitjackets and up to now he scarcely calms down, although he's in a bath all day long, he demolishes his bed and all the rest in his room, overturns his food &c." (emphasis in original).

102. "very sad" BVG 593, 6/2/1889.

Context:
BVG 593, 6/2/1889: "It is very sad to see, but they are very patient here and will pull him through in the end."
JLB 777, 5/31/1889-6/6/1889: "It's very sad to see -- but they have a lot of patience here and will eventually get there, however."

103. especially the veterans BVG 592, 5/22/1889: In Vincent's words: "Old regulars of the menagerie" (JLB 776, 5/23/1889).

Context:
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "If someone has some crisis the others look after him, and intervene so that he doesn't harm himself. The same for those who have the mania of often getting angry. Old regulars of the menagerie run up and separate the fighters, if there is a fight."

104. "intervene" BVG 592, 5/22/1889. We have combined elements from both translations.

Context:
BVG 592, 5/22/1889: "If someone has an attack, the others look after him and interfere so that he does not harm himself. The same for those whose mania is to fly often into a rage. The old inhabitants of the menagerie come running and separate the combatants, if combat there is."
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "If someone has some crisis the others look after him, and intervene so that he doesn't harm himself. The same for those who have the mania of often getting angry. Old regulars of the menagerie run up and separate the fighters, if there is a fight."

105. "They will pull" BVG 593, 6/2/1889.

Context:
BVG 593, 6/2/1889: "It is very sad to see, but they are very patient here and will pull him through in the end."
JLB 777, 5/31/1889-6/6/1889: "It's very sad to see -- but they have a lot of patience here and will eventually get there, however."

106. "By seeing the reality" BVG 591, 5/10/1889-5/15/1889; emphasis in original JLB 772, 5/9/1889.

Context:
BVG 591, 5/10/1889-5/15/1889: "I wanted to tell you that I think I have done well to come here; first of all by seeing the reality of the life of the various madmen and lunatics in this menagerie, I am losing the vague dread, the fear of the thing."
JLB 772, 5/9/1889: "I wanted to tell you that I think I've done well to come here, first, in seeing the reality of the life of the diverse mad or cracked people in this menagerie, I'm losing the vague dread, the fear of the thing" (emphasis in original).

107. nursed each other BVG 129, 4/1/1879: Vincent's description of the condition of the miners after a fire damp explosion prefigures his experience in the asylum at Saint-Rémy. (See Chapter 12.)

Context:
JLB 151, 4/1/1879-4/16/1879: "Did I tell you at the time about the miner who was badly burned by a gas explosion? Thank God he has now recovered and goes out and about and is beginning to take long walks as practice, his hands are still weak and it will be some time before he's able to use them for his work, yet he has been saved. But since then there have been quite a few cases of typhus and virulent fever, including what is known as 'foolish fever,' which causes one to have bad dreams such as nightmares and delirium. So there are again many sickly and bedridden people, lying emaciated on their beds, weak and miserable. In one house everyone is sick with fever, and they have little or no help, which means that there the sick are taking care of the sick."

108. "For though there are some" BVG 592, 5/22/1889; emphasis in original JLB 776, 5/23/1889.

Context:
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "For although there are some who howl or usually rave, here there is much true friendship that they have for each other" (emphasis in original).

109. "acute mania" Monroe, Creative Brainstorm, pp. 30-31. 110. "a kind of epilepsy" Gastaut, "Mémoires Originaux," p. 200. 111. "the falling sickness" Temkin, pp. 375-376. 112. Rey knew muchSee Ch. 39, n. 113. 750 113. "latent epilepsy" Gastaut, "Mémoires Originaux," p. 200. 114. "larval epilepsy" Gastaut, "Mémoires Originaux," pp. 199-200. 115. "masked epilepsy" Temkin, pp. 317-318. 116. refused to consider Reynolds, p. 676. 117. "intellectual disease" Temkin, p. 320: This term was contributed by prominent early French alienist Jules Falret, who, according to Temkin, divided epileptic insanity "into petit mal intellectuel and grand mal intellectuel, as counterparts to the petit mal and grand mal of the convulsive attacks. Petit mal intellectuel usually was associated with vertigoes and the grand mal type with the convulsive grand mal. The delirious types could precede or, more often, follow the convulsive attacks; less frequently they appeared in the intervals between the latter, in persons who were recognized as epileptic." 118. tried to impose Temkin, p. 320. (See Ch. 39, n. 117.) 119. "grand mal" Temkin, p. 320. 120. "petit mal" Temkin, p. 320. 121. "a kind of epilepsy" Gastaut, "Mémoires Originaux," p. 200. (See Ch. 39, n. 121.) 122. "an epileptic" BVG 589, 5/2/1889.

Context:
BVG 589, 5/2/1889: "Now if I certainly run a great risk here of being refused because they know that I am a madman or an epileptic probably for good (though according to what I have heard, there are 50,000 epileptics in France, only 4,000 of whom are confined, and so it is not extraordinary), perhaps I should soon be provided for after speaking, for instance, to [Édouard] Détaille or Caran d'Ache [pseudonym of Emmanuel Poiré] in Paris."
JLB 767, 5/2/1889: "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 (although from what I've heard tell there are 50 thousand epileptics in France, of whom only 4,000 are confined, and that it's thus not so extraordinary), perhaps in Paris by telling it for example to Detaille or Caran d'Ache I would soon be found a place."

123. "There are 50,000" BVG 589, 5/2/1889.

Context:
BVG 589, 5/2/1889: "Now if I certainly run a great risk here of being refused because they know that I am a madman or an epileptic probably for good (though according to what I have heard, there are 50,000 epileptics in France, only 4,000 of whom are confined, and so it is not extraordinary), perhaps I should soon be provided for after speaking, for instance, to Détaille or Caran d'Ache in Paris."
JLB 767, 5/2/1889: "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 (although from what I've heard tell there are 50 thousand epileptics in France, of whom only 4,000 are confined, and that it's thus not so extraordinary), perhaps in Paris by telling it for example to Detaille or Caran d'Ache I would soon be found a place."

124. produced hallucinations BVG 592, 5/22/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 131.) Vincent not only experienced hallucination, he reported witnessing a similar display at the asylum.

Context:
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "There's one person here who has been shouting and always talking, like me, for a fortnight, he thinks he hears voices and words in the echo of the corridors, probably because the auditory nerve is sick and too sensitive, and with me it was both the sight and the hearing at the same time which, according to what Rey said one day, is usual at the beginning of epilepsy" (emphasis in original).

125. acts of self-mutilation BVG 592, 5/22/1889.

Context:
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "Most epileptics bite their tongues and injure them. Rey told me that he had known a case where someone had injured his ear as I did, and I believe I've heard a doctor here who came to see me with the director say that he too had seen it before."

126. biting their tongues BVG 592, 5/22/1889.

Context:
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "Most epileptics bite their tongues and injure them. Rey told me that he had known a case where someone had injured his ear as I did, and I believe I've heard a doctor here who came to see me with the director say that he too had seen it before."

127. cutting off their ears BVG 592, 5/22/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 126.)

Context:
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "Most epileptics bite their tongues and injure them. Rey told me that he had known a case where someone had injured his ear as I did, and I believe I've heard a doctor here who came to see me with the director say that he too had seen it before."

128. "epileptic character" Temkin, pp. 317-318. 129. "disposition to irritation" Morel, "D'une forme de délire," pp. 774, 775. 130. "exaggerated mental activity" Morel, "D'une forme de délire," pp. 774-775. (See Ch. 39, n. 135.) 131. most trifling offense BVG 592, 5/22/1889. Here is Morel's 1860 summary of the disease he described as "larvate" or "larval" epilepsy: "Under the term larvate epilepsy I have described a variant of epilepsy which does not reveal itself by the actual minor or major attacks, but on the contrary by all the other symptoms which accompany or precede ordinary epilepsy characterized by seizures, that is: periodic alternation of excitement and depression; manifestations as it were of sudden fury without sufficient grounds and for most trivial reasons; a usually most irritable disposition; amnesia, as usually occurs in epilepsy, of dangerous acts carried out during momentary or transient rages. Some epileptics of this type have even experienced genuine auditory and visual hallucinations." (Morel, quoted in Blumer, "The Illness of Vincent van Gogh," p. 522.)

Context:
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "There's one person here who has been shouting and always talking, like me, for a fortnight, he thinks he hears voices and words in the echo of the corridors, probably because the auditory nerve is sick and too sensitive, and with me it was both the sight and the hearing at the same time which, according to what Rey said one day, is usual at the beginning of epilepsy" (emphasis in original).

132. latent epileptic to anger Temkin, pp. 317-318. 133. "epileptic fury" Temkin, pp. 317. (See Ch. 39, n. 131.) 134. "lightning condensed" Temkin, pp. 317-318: This line is quoted in Temkin's 1971 summary of Morel: "Any trifle could provide 'epileptic anger,' which might last one to two hours and repeat itself again and again during the day. But there also existed epileptic fury, which appeared in two forms: either in continuity with an epileptic attack, i.e., preceding or following it, or, without such continuity, bursting forth 'like lightning and being condensed in terrible deeds.' This was said in 1853." 135. always on the move Morel, "D'une forme de délire," pp. 774-775: "The tendency to flight is an aberration that one encounters frequently enough [among larval epileptics]. The intellectual faculties of such patients acquires, according to Dr. Falret, an unaccustomed activity which astonishes the people who live with them. This exaggerated mental activity normally accompanies a physical excitation that deserves special attention. The patient has a continuous need for movement, an instability, a disposition to irritation or anger, that contrasts with their normal behavior." 136. unpredictable outbursts Morel, "D'une forme de délire," p. 773: In Morel's landmark 1860 report on latent epilepsy, he described the case of one woman who "showed general sufferings, indicative of a deeper impressionability, and a particular aptitude to sadness. But the more alarming symptom, in the eyes of her family, was an excessive irritability which expressed itself in formidable angers; sometimes these angers occurred suddenly, without appreciable cause, and sometimes they exploded when anyone offered the least resistance to the strange, capricious will of this irritable patient." 137. "I believe" Peyron, "Register of Voluntary Commitments," in Stein, ed., pp. 151-152. 138. "As far as I can make out" BVG 591, 5/10/1889-5/15/1889.

Context:
JLB 772, 5/9/1889: "As far as I know the doctor here is inclined to consider what I've had as an attack of an epileptic nature."

139. if unempathetic Van Gogh-Bonger, in Van Gogh, p. xlix: In her Memoir, Jo Bonger seems to have summed up the general impression of Peyron shared by all accounts: "Dr. Peyron was kindly disposed, but he was reserved and silent; the monthly letters by which he kept Theo informed of the situation lacked the warm sympathy of the doctors in the hospital at Arles." 140. "I have every reason" Peyron, "On His New Patient, Vincent," in Stein, ed., pp. 152-153. 751 141. "nevertheless kept abreast" Leroy, p. 140: "Whilst not a psychiatrist, he nevertheless kept abreast of what was then known about mental illness." Leroy later succeeded Peyron as medical director of the Saint Paul asylum at Saint-Rémy. 142. "mischievous restlessness" Gowers, p. 121: "The mental state of epileptics, as is well known, frequently presents deterioration, and this constitutes one of the consequences of the disease which is much, dreaded, and is often most serious. In its slighter form there is merely defective memory, especially for recent acquisitions. In more severe degree there is greater imperfection of intellectual power, weakened capacity for attention, and often defective moral control. Mischievous restlessness and irritability in childhood may develop to vicious and even criminal tendencies in adult life." 143. excessive sun Gowers, pp. 26-27: " Exposure to the sun is frequently assigned as the cause of the first fit, but the relation is often doubtful. Sunstroke affords so ready an explanation of a convulsive seizure occurring in the hot sun, that it is naturally regarded as the cause of the attack in all such cases. It is an undoubted cause in a few." (Emphasis in original.) 144. alcohol Gowers, p. 29: "Chronic alcoholism is a rare cause of epilepsy. Convulsions not infrequently result from it, but usually in association with distinct symptoms of chronic meningitis." Among the other, numerous possible triggers (not underlying causes) that rise to Gowers's consideration are sex, trauma, acute disease, intestinal worms, "digestive derangement," asphyxia, lead poisoning, renal disease, tobacco, anaesthetics (chloroform), "disturbed menstruation," pregnancy, and, finally, masturbation. Of these Gowers suspects that the last the most common "exciting cause" of epilepsy, but laments the difficulty of obtaining accurate data. "It is usually denied by the patient, and the very enquiry renders its discovery more difficult by suggesting the necessity for concealment" (ibid., p. 32). 145. disruptive emotions Gowers, p. 23: Gowers research showed this to be by far the most common "exciting cause" of epilepsy and he breaks it down into two sub-categories: "mental emotion" and "prolonged mental anxiety." 146. feelings of guilt Temkin, pp. 318-319. Much of the text discussion of this subject is based on Temkin's summary of Falret's research. Because it was generally believed at the time that "absolute loss of consciousness was an essential characteristic of the disease [epilepsy]," much of the knowledge about the onset of an epileptic episode was based on so-called "aborted" episodes, which, somewhat circularly, meant that the patient recalled something about the episode. "Hence these [aborted] attacks are incomplete from the point of view of abnormality of movement, as well as of loss of consciousness. After the attacks have ceased, some of these patients have retained a more or less vague memory of the ideas that preoccupied them while the attacks lasted. They have declared that at the time they were under the influence of a painful dream, in a state of profound mental suffering, and dominated by a vague feeling of violent pangs of conscience or of an insurmountable misfortune, the reason of which they were unable to penetrate." (ibid.) 147. "profound mental suffering" Temkin, pp. 318-319. (See Ch. 39, n. 146.) 148. trapped in a waking nightmare Temkin, pp. 318-319. (See Ch. 39, n. 146.) 149. "falling into a chasm" Morel, "D'une forme de délire," p. 773: In 1860, Morel reported one patient's description of her attacks: "[She] felt like she was wrapped in a luminous atmosphere. Her nights were bad, her sleep stopped by alarming dreams and nightmares; she believed she was falling into a chasm; she saw spectra and had terrifying visions." 150. Pangs of conscience Temkin, pp. 318-319. (See Ch. 39, n. 216.) 151. Painful memories Temkin, p. 318: Summarizing the ideas of Falret, Temkin writes, "For instance, there were epileptics 'in whom the same idea, the same reminiscence, or the same hallucination arises spontaneously at the moment of the invasion of every attack and infallibly precedes its appearance.' He added that very often ' this reminiscence, this idea or this image are the reproduction of the idea or the sensation which has provoked the first attack in this patient.'" (Emphasis added.) According to Dewhurst and Bear, one of Hughlings Jackson's latent epilepsy patients (1870) "felt 'the past as if present -- a blending of past ideas with present'" (Dewhurst and Bear, p. 505). 152. religious obsessions Blumer, "The Psychiatric Dimension of Epilepsy," in Blumer, ed., p. 29: "The epileptics will entertain gloomy thoughts and ideas of having sinned, and may feel that others are being cross with them and are speaking ill of them. Some patients may be seized with intense anxiety, sudden despair, or incomprehensible terror. In such a mood, a marked suicidal intent often develops, and suicide attempts may be carried out. Far more rare than the periodic irritability or dejection is the paroxysmal occurrence of expansive or ecstatic moods with motor excitement and religious preoccupation." 153. especially over sins Blumer, "The Psychiatric Dimension of Epilepsy," in Blumer, ed., p. 29: "In other cases the mood changes take on the form of internal unrest and dejection. The epileptics will entertain gloomy thoughts and ideas of having sinned, and may feel that others are being cross with them and are speaking ill of them." 154. out-of-body sensations Temkin, p. 326: Temkin cites one of the three hundred cases reported by Théodore Herpin in 1867: "One patient declared: 'The trouble is purely intellectual; I am neither dazed nor giddy; I can still read words, but I no longer grasp their meaning. This is a most distressing condition; it seems to me that one part of my intellect witnesses the disorders of the other.' To this Herpin added: 'It would be impossible to define the partial delirium more clearly.'" Fifty-four of Herpin's patients reported "loss of the feeling of existence" (ibid., p. 325); and another "talked of momentary 'absences'" (ibid., p. 323). According to Dewhurst and Bear, a patient reported by Hughlings Jackson (1888) believed that he had "'double consciousness,' and another patient had a series of 'curious sensations -- a sort of transplantation to another world'" (Dewhurst and Bear, p. 505). 155. psyche were divided Temkin, p. 326. 156. other entities Morel, "D'une forme de délire," p. 773. (See Ch. 39, n. 154.) 157. their own voices Morel, "D'une forme de délire," p. 773: In 1860, Morel reported the case of a woman who "answered the invisible voices of beings, and sometimes also she complained of hearing alarming noises." 158. babble gibberish Temkin, pp. 318-319: "During these aborted [epileptic] attacks the patients, who have no rapport with the external world, utter certain incomprehensible sounds or articulate a few incoherent words which seem to indicate a painful anxiety or deep fright." (See Ch. 39, n. 146.) Temkin quotes from a paper published in 1859 by Höring, a student of Wilhelm Griesinger, in which he describes an attack of latent epilepsy: "At other times he runs away during the attack and talks gibberish, or he searches, as in a dream, in all his pockets, as if he were missing something, and he himself says that something has fallen down, or he makes scrubbing and rubbing motions on his trousers, or hides his hands in his sleeves and talks of the possibility of breaking off his fingers and so on; sometimes he answers if addressed during this dream state, but usually wrongly. Whatever form this slight attack may take, at its end he usually closes his eyes, seems to sleep for a few minutes, and then has no idea of what happened." (Temkin, p. 322.) 159. "automatically" Temkin, p. 322: According to Temkin: "Automatism, especially since the essay by [Jules] Baillarger of 1845, was not a novel idea in French psychiatry." In 1881, Gowers defined "automatism" this way: "The automatic action is often regarded as constituting the epileptic seizure, and the attacks presenting this feature have, following Esquirol, been called 'masked epilepsy,' or 'epilepsia larvata' after Morel. Whether this mental automatism may replace and represent an epileptic seizure, or whether it is always a post-epileptic phenomenon, is a question still undecided, which will be presently considered." (Gowers, p. 115.)

This casual reference to "a question still undecided" marks one of the primary fissure lines between French and English psychiatry at the time. In fact, the French continued to believe that the automatic actions constituted the seizure, not, as Gowers would have it, "post-epileptic phenomenon." The English, following in the giant footsteps of Hughlings Jackson, believed that the automatic actions represented, as Gowers goes on to say, " the result of the exhaustion of the highest cerebral centres by the discharge, and the consequent temporary loss of the control which these should exercise over complex centres just below them, which consequently act in an insubordinate and automatic manner" (ibid.; emphasis added). Ultimately at stake was the much larger question of whether behavior, aberrant or otherwise, always had a pathological origin. To preserve contemporaneity, the text adheres to the French preference for a psychological -- rather than a physiological -- understanding of epilepsy, which would have controlled both Rey's and Peyron's analysis of Vincent's case.

160. hallmarks were violence Gowers, p. 117: "Occasionally the automatic actions display emotion, and, it may be, violence and rage." Gowers reports one patient who "immediately after an attack, struck a friend who was with him a violent blow on the face, mistaking him for another person, and was in consequence taken to a police station under the suspicion of being drunk" (ibid.). The phrase "immediately after the attack" hides a dispute about whether such violent actions constituted the epileptic attack, as the French believed, or were merely post-attack sequelae, the English view. (See Ch. 39, n. 159.) 161. paroxysmal rage Gowers, pp. 120-121: Under the heading "Mental Disturbance in Epileptics," Gowers writes: " Paroxysmal Mental Disturbance; Epileptic Mania. The subjects of epilepsy sometimes, but rarely, present sudden paroxysmal outbursts of mental derangement, often with violence, and a tendency to injure others. The maniacal attack is usually brief, often lasting for a few minutes only, sometimes for an hour or two." Morel writes of the latent epileptic's "excessive irritability which was summarized in formidable angers" (Morel, "D'une forme de délire," p. 773). He also referred to this state "complete fury" (ibid.). 162. Both homicide Temkin, p. 321: Summarizing Falret's "emphasis on the automatism prevailing in many epileptic phenomena," Temkin writes, "The epileptic who, in a state of post-ictal delirium, attempted or committed suicide, homicide, arson, had not the slightest responsibility for 'violent acts committed by him in the midst of this completely automatic, though short, delirium.'" (Also see Ch. 39, n. 161 and n. 160.) 163. suicide Blumer, "The Psychiatric Dimension of Epilepsy," in Blumer, ed., p. 29: "Some patients may be seized with intense anxiety, sudden despair, or incomprehensible terror. In such a mood, a marked suicidal intent often develops, and suicide attempts may be carried out." 164. loss of consciousness Gowers, pp. 97-98: "The coma into which the patient usually passes at the close of an epileptic fit often continues as heavy sleep, lasting for a quarter of an hour or longer, sometimes for hours." According to Temkin, Falret (and others) believed "absolute loss of consciousness was an essential characteristic of the disease [of latent epilepsy]" (Temkin, p. 318). 165. days and weeks Blumer, "The Psychiatric Dimension of Epilepsy," in Blumer, ed., p. 31: According to Blumer, "The duration of these delirious states is often limited to a few hours, at most to 1 or 2 weeks. The resolution is almost invariably gradual. Some prolonged twilight states, characterized by heavily clouded consciousness and a near-complete absence of activity, are designated as 'epileptic stupor.'" 166. "epileptic stupor" Blumer, "The Psychiatric Dimension of Epilepsy," in Blumer, ed., p. 31. (See Ch. 39, n. 165.) 167. twilight state Blumer, "The Psychiatric Dimension of Epilepsy," in Blumer, ed., p. 30: Blumer describes the "epileptic twilight state" as "associated with a more or less marked clouding of consciousness. .... In twilight states the patients show the disorders of attention, orientation, thought processes, and speech characteristic of confusional states. Their mood is highly labile. They are frequently dejected, anxious, despaired, and then again morose, surly, and irritable. ... Many patients are taciturn, inaccessible, even stuporous." 168. inherited Newmark and Penry, p. 1: According to Newmark and Penry, "Speculations on the hereditability of epilepsy have occupied the thoughts of medical men since the time of the earliest medical investigations. In approximately 450 b.c. the Greek physician Hippocrates concluded in his treatise The Sacred Disease that epilepsy is neither sacred nor even unexplainable; instead, it is inherited." (Also see Lennox and Lennox, pp. 532-536.) 169. Vincent's stories Peyron, "Register of Voluntary Commitments," in Stein, ed., pp. 151-152: Peyron's note in Vincent's file at Saint Paul singles out only one of the relatives listed in the text, but clearly indicates he gave other examples from his family tree: "He tells us that one of his mother's sisters was epileptic, and that there are several cases in the family." Gastaut, for reasons that are unfathomable to us (unless he was taking the word of a Van Gogh family member), maintains that "the family nature of the crises presented by Vincent must be definitely put aside because the epileptic antecedents of the family he had told to Doctor Peyron are false, there was no latent epilepsy among the Van Goghs" (Gastaut, "Mémoires Originaux," p. 228). Gastaut goes on, strangely, to discuss other family mental afflictions, namely those that Theo and his sister Wil presented subsequently. He doesn't discuss that Vincent's sister Lies had, according to her mother, a "nervous condition," or that his youngest brother Cor committed suicide (b2464 V/1982, ''Gogh, Theodorus en Anna C. van'' to ''Gogh, Theo van'', 3/10/1879). 170. "died of a mental disease" b4509 V/1962, "Genealogy of the House of Carbentus." 171. mother's sister Clara Peyron, "Register of Voluntary Commitments," in Stein, ed., pp. 151-152: Aunt Clara is the one example that is referred to specifically in Peyron's note in Vincent's file: "He tells us that one of his mother's sisters was epileptic, and that there are several cases in the family." (See Ch. 1, n. 86.) It may also be relevant to the text discussion that Anna's brother Johannus committed suicide in 1875 under shadowy and shameful circumstances (see Ch. 1, n. 88). 172. uncle committed suicide Anna Carbentus's brother Johannus committed suicide under mysterious circumstances in 1875. (See Ch. 1, n. 88.) 173. "epileptic fit" b3259 V/1962, "Gogh, Maria Johanna van", 1899: This cryptic chronicle record refers to Vincent's eldest uncle, Hein, in this 1851 entry: "In July brother in Rotterdam [i.e., Hein] has the first (epileptic) fit, does recover but never is as well again as before." 174. "half paralyzed" Van Gogh, "History of the Van Gogh Family," p. 7: Vincent's Aunt Mietje kept the family chronicle. In an entry dated October 13, 1872, she wrote: "Brother Hendrik had a fit. Becomes half paralyzed, has to leave the business to his employee Mr. Schmidt, and goes to live in Laeken for a few more years, suffering greatly." Hein was only fifty-seven at the time. 175. "fits" b3259 V/1962, "Gogh, Maria Johanna van", 1899. 176. "seizures" b2670 V/1982, "Gogh, Theodorus van" to "Gogh, Theo van", 10/22/1873: "What a pity that Uncle had some sort of seizure once again, as I learned from Aunt Cornelie. What a dark prospect!" This was written in October 1873, a full fifteen years before Cent finally died on July 28, 1888. In another letter, Dorus describes his brother Cent as "so sensitive" (b2482 V/1982, ''Gogh, Theodorus van'' to ''Gogh, Theo van'', 5/31/1879). 177. two of Vincent's cousins b2569 V/1982, "Gogh-Carbentus, Anna C. van" to "Gogh, Theo van", 11/21/1877: In addition to cousin Hendrik, mentioned in the text, Vincent's cousin Paul Stricker, was described by Anna as suffering from "neurosis." She gives no more details, but his condition was seriously enough that it required him "to return to his native country, and that has put an end to his hope of a good position there and his good prospects. Such a shame don't you think?" (ibid.) 178. "suffered some" b2258 V/1982, "Gogh, Theodorus van" to "Gogh, Theo van", 10/27/1884: Dorus wrote Theo in 1884, the year before his death: "My brother Jan has them also, mostly about his son Hendrik. Who lately is suffering some bad epileptic fits. So worries aplenty." The worries were so plentiful, in fact, that they killed the old admiral soon thereafter. 752 179. he was institutionalized b2264 V/1982, "Gogh, Theodorus van" to "Gogh, Theo van", 12/30/1884: Only two months after reporting in 1884 that his nephew Hendrik was "suffering from some bad epileptic fits" (see Ch. 39, n. 178), Dorus sent Theo an update: "Uncle Jan's Hendrik is still in the hospital in Utrecht. He seems to be getting a bit better, but it remains a somber future." This mixed, murky prognosis suggests a mental, not a physical reason for hospitalization -- much like Vincent's. 180. committed suicide See Ch. 33, n. 319. 181. "What happened" Peyron, "Register of Voluntary Commitments," in Stein, ed., pp. 151-152. 182. published a treatise Morel, Treatise on Physical, Intellectual, and Moral Degeneracy in the Human Species (Traité des Dégénérescence Physique, Intellectuelles et Morales de l'Espèce Humaine): Morel spent much of his professional career at La Salpêtrière, the huge Paris hospital already world-renowned at this time for its asylum for the mentally ill. Almost all of the great French neurologists and proto-psychiatrists of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries trained or taught at Salpêtrière, including Philippe Pinel, Jean-Étienne Esquirol, and Jean-Martin Charcot. One of Charcot's later students at Salpêtrière was Sigmund Freud. 183. pre-Darwinian theoriesDowbiggin, p. 6: Dowbiggin makes the point very well: "psychiatrists did not conjure up hereditarian ideas out of nowhere. Hereditarian theory was used in much of contemporaneous French medicine, especially with respect to constitutional and chronic diseases; it corresponded to the prevailing interest in evolutionary biology and anthropology and blended nicely with the more general attitudes toward crime, psychology, and politics pervading French culture near the end of the century." 184. physical imperfections Pick, pp. 50-51: Pick lists the "infinite network of diseases and disorders" as well as "physical conditions, moral and social habits," that Morel considered subject to the "law" of degeneration: "hernias, goitres, pointed ears, absence of secondary teeth, stunted growth, cranial deviations, deaf and dumbness, blindness, albinism, club-feet, elephantitis, scrophula, tuberculosis, rickets and sterility ... the effects of toxins like alcohol, tobacco and opium ... the intellectual faculties and the noxious tendencies of certain forms of romanticism which resulted in languorous desires, effeteness, reveries, impotence, suicidal tendencies, inertia, melancholy and apathy." 185. "degeneration" Pick, pp. 50-51. 186. enhanced their professional standing Dowbiggin, pp. 5-6: "I shall contend that it was this profound sense of defensiveness and insecurity that led to the widespread psychiatric acceptance of degeneracy theory in the final third of the nineteenth century. Hereditary degeneracy theory provided asylum physicians with a unitary concept that encompassed pathological behavior and affect in psychological, biological, and social terms." Elsewhere, Dowbiggin cites Jan Goldstein's Console and Classify (1987) to support this broad characterization: "from the beginning to the end of the century French alienists were engaged in a 'bid for power through psychiatric knowledge,' a project to expand the professional authority of psychiatry through the pursuit of secular and anticlerical goals. There was also an anticlerical element in degeneracy theory because its characterization of madness as a biophysical phenomenon authorized alienists to override the religious orders who competed with medicine for control of mental hospitals." (Dowbiggin, p. 9.) 187. wrest ultimate authority Dowbiggin, pp. 9-10. (See Ch. 39, n. 186.) 188. "Before, I used to care" Leroy, p. 140. 189. "My life" BVG W11, 4/30/1889.

Context:
BVG W11, 4/30/1889: "As for me, I am rather often uneasy in my mind, because I think that my life has not been calm enough; all those bitter disappointments, adversities, changes keep me from developing fully and naturally in my artistic career."
JLB 764, 4/28/1889-5/2/1889: "For myself, I quite often worry that my life hasn't been calm enough, all these disappointments, annoyances, changes mean that I don't develop naturally and in full in my artistic career."

190. "paralyzed" BVG 586, 4/24/1889. Vincent makes the same remarkable (and previously unthinkable) admission two weeks later, after his admission to Saint Paul: "I'll always be absent-minded and awkward in getting by for the rest of life too" (JLB 772, 5/9/1889).

Context:
BVG 586, 4/24/1889: "Really, I think it would be torture for other people as well as for myself if I were to leave the hospital, for I feel and am, as it were, paralyzed when it comes to acting and shifting for myself."
JLB 761, 4/24/1889: "There you are, it seems to me that it would be a torture as much for others as for myself if I left the hospital, for I feel and am as it were paralyzed when it comes to acting and getting by."

191. "my self-command" BVG 419b, 8/7/1885. The specter of involuntary commitment loomed over Vincent's life in Nuenen, especially in the months after his father's death, when he wrote this passage in an extraordinarily confessory letter not to Theo but to a creditor in The Hague: "Should you doubt the good faith of this request, then for my part I can do nothing but repeat it more emphatically. For I notice that on the side of the paint bill, my own little craft is springing leaks here and there. I'm plugging these leaks as much as I can, though, and am not yet losing my cool-headedness. Am not desperate either. But since we'll perhaps both be in the same storm, I speak emphatically and, I believe, in both our interests." (JLB 524, 8/6/1885; emphasis in original.) This is exactly the same line of argument (i.e., "we float together or we sink separately") that he was making to Theo at the same time.

Context:
BVG 419b, 8/7/1885: "However, I am trying to stop these leaks to the best of my ability, and I have not lost my self-command yet. Neither am I desperate."
JLB 524, 8/6/1885: "I'm plugging these leaks as much as I can, though, and am not yet losing my cool-headedness. Am not desperate either."

192. "Once you know" BVG 592, 5/22/1889. We have altered the translation slightly.

Context:
BVG 592, 5/22/1889: "I like to think that once you know what it is, once you are conscious of your condition, and of being subject to attacks, then you can do something to prevent your being taken unawares by the anguish or the terror."
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "I dare to believe that once one knows what it is, once one is aware of one's state and of possibly being subject to crises, that then one can do something about it oneself so as not to be caught so much unawares by the anguish or the terror."

193. "Unfortunately" BVG 595, 6/17/1889-6/18/1889.

Context:
BVG 595, 6/17/1889-6/18/1889: "Do not fear that I shall ever, of my own will, rush to dizzy heights. Unfortunately we are subject to the circumstances and the maladies of our time, whether we like it or not."
JLB 782, 6/18/1889: "Don't be afraid that I would ever venture onto dizzy heights of my own free will, unfortunately, whether we like it or not, we're subject to circumstances and to the illnesses of our time."

753 194. "consumption or syphilis" BVG 592, 5/22/1889: The irony of this statement was, apparently, lost on Vincent.

Context:
BVG 592, 5/22/1889: "Well, now I can think of all that without fear, that is to say, I find it is no more dreadful than if those people had died of something else, consumption or syphilis, for example."
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "Well, now I think of all this without fear, i.e. I find it no more atrocious than if these people had snuffed it of something else, of consumption or syphilis, for example."

195. "malady of the times" BVG 637, 5/25/1890: We have slightly altered Bonger's translation.

Context:
BVG 637, 5/25/1890: "And things may yet get better, I still think that it is mostly a malady of the South that I have caught, and that the return here will be enough to dissipate the whole thing."
JLB 875, 5/25/1890: "And they may get even better, I still believe that it's above all an illness of the south that I caught, and that the return here will be enough to dispel all that."

196. Troyon, Marchal BVG 592, 5/22/1889: This is how the list starts: "Before I had some repulsion for these beings, and it was something distressing for me to have to reflect that so many people of our profession, [Constant] Troyon, [Charles François] Marchal, [Charles] Meryon, [Gustave Adolphe] Jundt, M. [Mathijs] Maris, Monticelli, a host of others, had ended up like that. I wasn't even able to picture them in the least in that state." (JLB 776, 5/23/1889.) The list will grow over the coming year as his mental crisis deepens. 197. Monticelli BVG 603, 7/6/1889: For obvious reasons, Vincent's inclusion of Monticelli in this roll call of innocents had special significance. Indeed, Monticelli's mental state was the subject of some investigation by Vincent.

Context:
JLB 790, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "The doctor was telling me about Monticelli, that he had always considered him eccentric, but as for mad, he had only been a little that way towards the end. Considering all the miseries of M[onticelli]'s last years, is it any surprise that he bowed beneath a weight that was too heavy, and is one right in trying to deduce from that that he failed in his work, artistically speaking?" (Emphasis in original.)

198. "There are so many" BVG 606, 9/19/1889.

Context:
BVG 606, 9/19/1889: "And there are so many among the artists who -- notwithstanding nervous diseases or epileptic fits from time to time -- nevertheless go ahead, and in a painter's life it seems to be enough to make paintings, but also one has to be careful not to spoil one's connections with other painters."
JLB 803, 9/19/1889: "And among artists there are so many who, despite nervous diseases -- or seizures from time to time -- nevertheless go their own way, and in the life of the painter it is, it seems, not enough to make paintings but one must also not let one's relations with other painters be harmed."

199. models in the orphanages BVG 237, 10/22/1882.

Context:
JLB 274, 10/22/1882: "This week I hope to have orphan boys to pose, then I may be able to rescue the drawing of orphan children after all."

200. almshouses of The Hague BVG 288, 6/3/1883. Vincent describes the men's ward of this asylum as "very real, inexpressibly real" (JLB 351, 6/7/1883). It was at this almshouse that he found his "orphan man" model, Adrianus Zuyderland (see Chapter 17). Vincent visited at least one other almshouse in The Hague: "Last winter I saw the old men's home at Voorburg. Smaller, of course, but almost more typical." (JLB 352, 6/11/1883.)

Context:
JLB 348, 6/3/1883: "I'm going to ask for permission to work in the old people's home. I already have many studies of orphan men, but I need to have the women too, and also the setting at the place itself."

201. "convalescent people" BVG 209, 7/1/1882.

Context:
BVG 209, 7/1/1882: "I cannot tell you how happy I am to sit here in the studio again after having been surrounded by chamber pots, etc., for so long, though the hospital is also beautiful, very beautiful, especially the garden with all those convalescent people -- men, women and children."
JLB 241, 7/1/1882: "I can't tell you with what pleasure I sit here again in the studio after spending so long in an environment of chamber-pots &c., even though the hospital is also beautiful, truly beautiful. Especially the garden with all the strollers, men, women, children."

202. collected prints BVG R24, 1/25/1883-1/30/1883: Vincent mentions an illustration simply called "Hospital" by Matthew White Ridley (JLB 304, 1/25/1883). Elsewhere, he advises Anton van Rappard that he will "greatly enjoy the C. [Charles] Greens -- large prints, among them a hospital, benches full of patients, which is excellent" (JLB 317, 2/20/1883).

According to JLB, Vincent is referring to Joseph Swain's 1827 engraving of The East London Hospital for Children by Matthew White Ridley (date and location unknown), which was published in The Illustrated London News on April 27, 1872. Green's illustration, The Out-Patient's Room in University College Hospital, was published in The Graphic on January 6, 1872. (JLB 304, 1/25/1883; n. 34 and JLB 279, 11/1/1882; n. 3.)

Context:
JLB 304, 1/25/1883: "You know the head of a miner by Ridley. I now have a boat race spectators by him, and already had a hospital, both thorough, solid prints."

203. a hospital orderly BVG 590, 5/3/1889.

Context:
JLB 768, 5/3/1889: "I would happily, once I was known there a little, try and make myself a male nurse little by little, in short to work at anything and take up an occupation again -- the first one that comes along."

204. "Perhaps it is from" BVG 569, 1/7/1889.

Context:
BVG 569, 1/7/1889: "I assure you that some days at the hospital were very interesting, and perhaps it is from the sick that one learns how to live."
JLB 732, 1/7/1889: "I can assure you that a few days in the hospital were very interesting, and that one perhaps learns how to live from the sick."

205. doses of bromide Vincent took potassium of bromide at the hospital in Arles as an anti-convulsant (JLB 743, 1/28/1889. Gowers, a contemporary authority, writes that "when the disease is primarily epileptic ... the treatment has to be, in the main, that for epilepsy, and bromides commonly do good" (Gowers, p. 294). (For a complete summary of the history of bromide treatment for epilepsy, see Lennox and Lennox, pp. 851-855.)

Without apparent support, Blumer maintains that the medical director at Saint-Rémy, Peyron, "failed to continue treatment with potassium bromide" (Blumer, "The Illness of Vincent van Gogh," p. 521). But this is surely either incorrect or incomplete. Peyron fully embraced Rey's diagnosis of latent epilepsy and there is no evidence that he repudiated the intern's treatment regime. According to Leroy, who was closest to the actual evidence and actors, the question is open: "Whether Dr. Peyron prescribed high doses of bromide ... as had Dr Rey at the hospital in Arles, we have absolutely no idea" (Leroy, p. 183). There are some clues, however. First, it is highly unlikely that Peyron would have simply cut off bromide treatment at the time of Vincent's admission to Saint Paul. And, indeed, there is evidence in Vincent's letters through May and June of the lassitude that is typical of "bromism": "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" (JLB 776, 5/23/1889); "not one single time have I had the slightest desire to be elsewhere; just the will to work again is becoming a tiny bit firmer" (JLB 777, 5/31/1889-6/6/1889); "I was pining for work a little ... I'm bored to death at times after work, and yet I have no desire to begin again" (JLB 779, 6/9/1889).

It is possible that, as weeks passed without an attack, Peyron reduced the dosage of bromides that Vincent received. But as soon as Vincent suffered another spell of attacks in July, Peyron unquestionably resumed the high-dose bromide treatment inherited from Rey and was reluctant thereafter to suspend it, even briefly. It should also be noted that Vincent may have continued taking iodide of potassium for his syphilis, a treatment that began in Paris (see Ch. 28, n.120).

206. long soaks BVG 592, 5/22/1889: Vincent makes this sound like a normal, if over-long bath. But, in fact, the types of baths commonly given as "hydrotherapy" in asylums like Saint Paul were more rigorous than relaxing. They generally included, at least, a bucket of cold water poured over the head every half hour to keep the brain from "overheating." (See Conrad, p. 20.)

Context:
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "Now I take a bath twice a week, and stay in it for 2 hours, then my stomach is infinitely better than a year ago, so I only have to continue, as far as I know."

207. considered a stimulant Gowers, p. 291: Under "General Management of Epileptics," Gowers recommends that "the diet of epileptics should contain little or no animal food." 208. wine only Gowers, p. 291: "Stimulants should be taken sparingly by epileptics, in small quantities, as a glass of wine with a meal. Alcohol in such amount is not prejudicial, but any actual stimulation, sufficient to be followed by a reaction, should be prohibited." The issue of the ration of wine was much on Vincent's mind as he contemplated whether to go to Saint Paul in late April 1889. He wrote Theo: "Ordinary food suits me perfectly well, especially if, like here, I could be given a little more wine than usual down there, half a litre instead of a quarter, for example" (JLB 760, 4/21/1889). This request was so important to Vincent that it ended up in the letter that Theo was required to submit to the asylum as a condition of admission: "I would ask you to be so kind as to let him have at least half a litre of wine with his meals" (Theo, quoted in Tralbaut, p. 275). But Peyron, the medical director -- whether out of medical conviction or penny-pinching -- did not agree to the request for a double ration of wine. In his response to Theo's letter, he promised to give Vincent "the greatest liberty compatible with his mental state," which meant that he would receive only "as much as all the patients drink it every day," but no more (b1059 V/1962, "Peyron, Th." to "Gogh, Theo van", 4/29/1889). 209. soothing routine Gowers, p. 291: Gowers recommends: "A moderate amount of exercise, physical and mental, is undoubtedly desirable for epileptics, but severe and exhausting exertion of any kind is undesirable. ... A moderate amount of brain-work will do good rather than harm. The excitement of competitive and pother examinations is, however, undesirable." 210. heroes and heroines The hero of Émile Zola's La faute de l'abbé Mouret (The Sin of Father Mouret) expressed appreciation for his prison-like monastery: "In the endless corridors, on the stone stairs, in certain corners, he had had sudden revelations, had found unhoped-for succor. The high ceilings dropped the voices of guardian angels. Not one tile of the rooms, not one stone in the walls, not one limb of the plane trees but spoke to him of the pleasures of his contemplative life." (Zola, La faute de l'abbé Mouret [The Sin of Father Mouret], p. 84.) And, in the Goncourts' (Edmond and Jules Huot) Soeur Philomène (Sister Philomène), the eponymous heroine "now accustomed to the hospital, soon found her pleasure there, and in time this life, confined to the limits of a sick-ward, had for her a singular attraction. She became attached to this existence, to the place where she spent most of her days, where her heart had full play; the spot familiar to her devotion, the narrow circle in which her occupations were centred. The world, its tidings and turmoil, were but a murmur that died out around her, that she no longer heard. These walls, beds, sick women, closed the horizon of her sight as well as the horizon of her mind; she neither sought nor dreamed of anything beyond. And she found in the hospital ward the impression of rest and peace conveyed by the sight of the garden of a country parsonage losing itself among the tombs of the churchyard." (De Goncourt and De Goncourt, pp. 146-147.) Also see the reference to A Tour Around My Garden by Alphonse Karr (1808-1890; French writer). 211. as the true madhouse As his mental control eroded, Vincent began developing this argument as early as 1884: "But what sort of a position is it, then, and what sort of a religion is it that these respectable people subscribe to? Oh, they're simply absurd things and they make society into a sort of madhouse, into an upside-down, wrong world. Oh, that mysticism." (JLB 456, 9/16/1884.) In Arles the previous summer (1888), he reiterated the argument, this time targeting upright, judgmental women like Mrs. Tanguy (Renée Julienne Tanguy-Briend) (clearly a surrogate for his own mother): "Certainly these ladies are much more harmful in the civilized society in which they move than the citizens bitten by rabid dogs who live at the Institut Pasteur. So père Tanguy would be right a thousand times over if he killed his lady … but he doesn't do it, any more than Socrates." (JLB 638, 7/10/1888 or 7/10/1888.)

In May 1889, Vincent archly equates his asylum-mates with his brother's fellow employees at Goupil: "I think that it's no more unfortunate for me to be in the company where I am than for you always the fateful things at Goupil & Cie. From that point of view we're quite equal." (JLB 776, 5/23/1889.)

The best statement of this counter-accusation comes from a book that Vincent read early in his life and probably represents his first encounter, in fiction or in life, with the concept of a madhouse. It comes from Karr's A Trip Around My Garden: "When these thoughts come over me, I am seized with a profound horror for all trouble, anxiety, and agitation; I only think of living quietly, without a care for the present or the future ... It appears to me that I then see all these people who are elbowing each other, in order to attain I don't know what, to be furious madmen; and I became of the opinion of that philosopher, who pretended to have discovered the true reason for there being, in all great cities, a lunatic asylum: it is, that by shutting up some poor creatures under the name of madmen, strangers might believe that all who are out of that hospital are sane." (Karr, p. 71.) There is reason to believe that this passage may have been on Vincent's mind around this time, as he wrote to Theo in June (in response to a book that his sister Wil had sent him): "Anyway, I prefer Alphonse Karr, [Émile] Souvestre, [Gustave] Droz, because it's a bit more alive than this" (JLB 783, 6/25/1889). This is the first specific mention of Karr since 1874 (JLB 28, 8/10/1874).

212. "tranquility" Vincent, quoted in Rewald, p. 308: "It may well be that I shall stay here for quite awhile; never have I had such tranquility as here and in the hospital in Arles so as to be able to paint a little at last." We have used Rewald's translation in lieu of the the JLB translation: "It's possible that I'll stay here for quite a long time, never have I been so tranquil as here and at the hospital in Arles to be able to paint a little at last" (JLB 772, 5/9/1889). Here is Bonger's translation of the same passage, which uses a more indeterminate and markedly more reserved construction: "It may well be that I shall stay here long enough -- I have never been so peaceful as here and in the hospital in Arles -- to be able to paint a little at least" (BVG 558a, 5/9/1889). We think this version does not do justice to Vincent's comfort level at Saint Paul -- something unthinkable to Jo Bonger. Yet in the very next letter, even by Bonger's account, Vincent has put off leaving the asylum into the indefinite future: "My hope would be that at the end of a year I'll know better than now what I can do and what I want. Then, little by little, an idea will come to me for beginning again. Coming back to Paris or anywhere at the moment doesn't appeal to me at all, I feel that I'm in the right place here." (JLB 776, 5/23/1889.) 213. "peace of mind" BVG 585, 4/21/1889: The text makes the point that Vincent often masked troubles with upbeat reports like this in order to avoid worrying his brother. In this case, however, Vincent's positive case is supported by Peyron's separate letters to Theo: "I am pleased to tell you that since his entry into this house M. Vincent is completely calm and that he finds that his health is improving day by day. ... He spends the whole day drawing in the park here, but as I find him entirely tranquil, I have promised to let him go out in order to find scenery outside this establishment." (b1058 V/1962, ''Peyron, Th.'' to ''Gogh, Theo van'', 5/26/1889; quoted in Peyron, "On His New Patient, Vincent," Stein, ed., p. 152.)

Context:
BVG 585, 4/21/1889: "I wish to remain shut up as much for my own peace of mind as for other people's."
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."

214. "My stomach" BVG 592, 5/22/1889.

Context:
BVG 592, 5/22/1889: "I take a bath twice a week now, and stay in it for two hours; my stomach is infinitely better than it was a year ago; so as far as I know, I only have to go on."
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "Now I take a bath twice a week, and stay in it for 2 hours, then my stomach is infinitely better than a year ago, so I only have to continue, as far as I know."

215. "my health is good" BVG 593, 6/2/1889.

Context:
BVG 593, 6/2/1889: "As for me, my health is good, and as for my brain, that will be, let us hope, a matter of time and patience."
JLB 777, 5/31/1889-6/6/1889: "As for me, my health is good, and as for the head it will, let's hope, be a matter of time and patience."

216. blithe attitude BVG 591, 5/10/1889-5/15/1889: This is extremely uncharacteristic of Vincent. In a subsequent letter, Vincent suggests that he continued to have conversations with Peyron and other doctors about his illness: "Rey told me that he had known a case where someone had injured his ear as I did, and I believe I've heard a doctor here who came to see me with the director [Peyron] say that he too had seen it before" (JLB 776, 5/23/1889). But note the blasé "I believe I've heard ..." In his next letter, he returns to his insistence on disinterest: "The director had a few words with me to say that he'd received a letter from you, and that he'd written to you. To me he says nothing and I ask nothing of him, which is simplest." (JLB 777, 5/31/1889-6/6/1889.) In a letter to Wil a few weeks later, he makes a very unusual (for him) admission: "And to know what one wants in such matters -- alas we know ourselves so little" (JLB 780, 6/16/1889). This humility about self-knowledge bears hardly any relationship to the insistently self-knowing and self-righteous Vincent before the attacks in Arles. This may be a self-conscious posture designed to prevent him from getting agitated about his condition or his circumstances. That is suggested in two other letters from July, one addressed to Theo: "It is precisely in learning to suffer without complaining, learning to consider pain without repugnance, that one risks vertigo (JLB 784, 7/2/1889), and another to his mother: "... and it occurs to me that our appearing not in the least anxious about it could turn out to be a sign of our own confidence in 'something reassuring' in nature in general" (JLB 788, 7/8/1889-7/12/1889).

Context:
JLB 772, 5/9/1889: "As far as I can make out, the doctor here is inclined to consider what I have had some sort of epileptic attack. But I did not ask him about it."

217. "a third-class waiting room" BVG 592, 5/22/1889.

Context:
BVG 592, 5/22/1889: "The room where we stay on wet days is like a third-class waiting room in some stagnant village, the more so as there are some distinguished lunatics who always wear a hat, spectacles and a cane, and travelling cloak, almost like at a watering place, and they represent the passengers."
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "The room where we stay on rainy days is like a 3rd-class waiting room in some stagnant village, all the more so since there are honourable madmen who always wear a hat, spectacles and travelling clothes and carry a cane, almost like at the seaside, and who represent the passengers there."

754 218. "certain difficulties" BVG 592, 5/22/1889.

Context:
BVG 592, 5/22/1889: "The poor wretches here, having absolutely nothing to do (not a book, nothing more to distract them than a game of boules or a game of draughts), have no other daily distraction than to stuff themselves with chickpeas, haricot beans, lentils and other groceries and colonial produce, in set quantities and at stated hours. As the digestion of these foodstuffs offers certain difficulties, they fill their days in a way as offensive as it is cheap."
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "As these unfortunates do absolutely nothing (not a book, nothing to distract them but a game of boules and a game of draughts) they have no other daily distraction than to stuff themselves with chickpeas, haricot beans, lentils and other groceries and colonial foodstuffs by the regulated quantities and at fixed times. As the digestion of these commodities presents certain difficulties, they thus fill their days in a manner as inoffensive as it's cheap."

219. "filling their days" BVG 592, 5/22/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 218.)

Context:
BVG 592, 5/22/1889: "The poor wretches here, having absolutely nothing to do (not a book, nothing more to distract them than a game of boules or a game of draughts), have no other daily distraction than to stuff themselves with chickpeas, haricot beans, lentils and other groceries and colonial produce, in set quantities and at stated hours. As the digestion of these foodstuffs offers certain difficulties, they fill their days in a way as offensive as it is cheap."
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "As these unfortunates do absolutely nothing (not a book, nothing to distract them but a game of boules and a game of draughts) they have no other daily distraction than to stuff themselves with chickpeas, haricot beans, lentils and other groceries and colonial foodstuffs by the regulated quantities and at fixed times. As the digestion of these commodities presents certain difficulties, they thus fill their days in a manner as inoffensive as it's cheap."

220. "daily distractions" BVG 592, 5/22/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 218.)

Context:
BVG 592, 5/22/1889: "The poor wretches here, having absolutely nothing to do (not a book, nothing more to distract them than a game of boules or a game of draughts), have no other daily distraction than to stuff themselves with chickpeas, haricot beans, lentils and other groceries and colonial produce, in set quantities and at stated hours."
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "As these unfortunates do absolutely nothing (not a book, nothing to distract them but a game of boules and a game of draughts) they have no other daily distraction than to stuff themselves with chickpeas, haricot beans, lentils and other groceries and colonial foodstuffs by the regulated quantities and at fixed times."

221. "I think my place is here" BVG 592, 5/22/1889.

Context:
BVG 592, 5/22/1889: "Going back to Paris or anywhere at all in no way attracts me. I think my place is here."
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "Coming back to Paris or anywhere at the moment doesn't appeal to me at all, I feel that I'm in the right place here."

222. three monthsBVG 585, 4/21/1889. This was the agreement with Theo in late April. Vincent repeated it in a letter to Wil about a week later: "As for me, I'm going for at least 3 months into an asylum at St-Rémy, not far from here" (JLB 764, 4/28/1889-5/2/1889).

Context:
JLB 760, 4/21/1889: "Anyhow, let's begin with 3 months, afterwards we'll see."

223. "It's been almost" BVG 593, 6/2/1889.

Context:
JLB 777, 5/31/1889-6/6/1889: "I've been here almost a whole month, not one single time have I had the slightest desire to be elsewhere; just the will to work again is becoming a tiny bit firmer."

224. set up a studio BVG 592, 5/22/1889: Vincent says only: "as there are more than 30 empty rooms -- I have another room in which to work" (JLB 776, 5/23/1889). 225. a large room Coquiot, p. 215: The description and location of Vincent's studio comes partly from Coquiot's interview with Madame Deschanel (Sister Épiphane), the Mother Superior at Saint Paul de Mausole at the time Vincent boarded there. She told Coquiot, "The Director had given [Vincent] permission to paint in the large room to the left of the entrance." The location of this room can be verified by Vincent's ink-and-gouache depiction of the entrance hall of the dormitory with the door open looking out into the garden, Wheat Field with Sheaves (F 1489 JH 1530). The location of his studio is marked by the paintings stacked against the wall on the right of the open door (that is, to the left as one enters). Another similar work, Wheat Field with Sheaves and Arles in the Background (F 1490 JH 1529), done at the same time (October 1889), shows the hallway that extended to the left from the entrance hall. Thus, it shows the corner that defined Vincent's studio immediately to the left of the entrance, as recalled by Madame Deschanel. The image also shows a figure entering a doorway partway down the hall on the left side. This may, in fact, be Vincent going to work in his studio, as the picture of the entrance hall does not show any door immediately to the left of the entrance. If so, Wheat Field with Sheaves and Arles in the Background (F 1490 JH 1529) would deserve a place beside his 1888 painting The Painter on his Way to Work (JH 1491) in which Vincent depicted himself "laden with boxes, sticks, a canvas, on the sunny Tarascon road" (JLB 660, 8/13/1888; see Ch. 31, n. 543). 226. half-empty dormitory BVG 592, 5/22/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 43.)

Context:
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "With this -- as there are more than 30 empty rooms -- I have another room in which to work."

227. next to the entrance Coquiot, p. 215. (See Ch. 39, n. 225.) 228. a place to dry his paintings (See Ch. 39, n. 225.) In his painting of the entrance hall Wheat Field with Sheaves (F 1489 JH 1530, 31 July-6 August 1888, pen, 9.4 x 12.6 in., 24 x 32 cm., Private collection), Vincent shows some paintings "taking the air" next to the open doorway. 229. "garden corners" See: A Corner in the Garden of Saint-Paul Hospital, F 609 JH 1693, May, 1889, oil on canvas, 36.2 x 28.4 in., 92 x 72 cm., Location unknown. 230. vignettes of greenery Trees with Ivy (F 1522 JH 1695), Tree with Ivy in the Asylum Garden (F 1532 JH 1696), Trees in Garden (F 1505 JH 1697), Flowering Shrubs (F 1526 JH 1707), Flowering Shrubs (F 1527 JH 1708), Trees and Shrubs (F 1534 JH 1709), Trees and Shrubs (F 1533 JH 1710), Stone Bench in the Garden of the Asylum (F 1537 JH 1711), and Trees in the Garden of the Asylum (F 1536 JH 1712). 231. ivy climbing up a tree A Corner in the Garden of Saint-Paul Hospital, F 609 JH 1693, May, 1889, oil on canvas, 36.2 x 28.4 in., 92 x 72 cm., Location unknown. 232. a bench nestled A Corner in the Garden of Saint-Paul Hospital, F 609 JH 1693, May, 1889, oil on canvas, 36.2 x 28.4 in., 92 x 72 cm., Location unknown. 233. a lattice of shadow Trees in the Garden, Trees in the Garden, F 1505 JH 1697, May, 1889, charcoal, brush, pen, brown ink, 17.9 x 23.8 in., 45.5 x 60.5 cm., Kröller-Müller Museum, Otterlo. 234. single mangy shrub Flowering Shrubs (F 1526 JH 1707) and Flowering Shrubs (F 1527 JH 1708). 235. the proverbial Japanese monk See Ch. 37, n. 277. 236. a lone moth Vincent drew the moth in Great Peacock Moth (F 1523 JH 1700), painted it in Great Peacock Moth (F 610 JH 1702), and included a sketch of it in a letter to Theo in late May, including this mildly surprising note from one nature-loving brother to another: "Yesterday I drew a very large, rather rare night moth there which is called the death's head, its coloration astonishingly distinguished: black, grey, white, shaded, and with glints of carmine or vaguely tending towards olive green; it's very big. To paint it I would have had to kill it, and that would have been a shame since the animal was so beautiful." (JLB 776, 5/23/1889.) 237. a single lilac bush Lilacs, F 579 JH 1692, May, 1889, oil on canvas, 28.7 x 36.2 in., 73 x 92 cm., Hermitage, St. Petersburg. 238. "nature in undress" The phrase is derived from Ralph Waldo Emerson's famous 1850 essay "Nature," which concludes: "There is nothing so wonderful in any particular landscape, as the necessity of being beautiful under which every landscape lies. Nature cannot be surprised in undress. Beauty breaks in everywhere." (Emerson, p. 172.) Vincent never specifically mentions Emerson nor is there any other direct evidence that he read Emerson. We have used it here both because of its aptness and because there are other parts of the same essay that certainly illuminate, even if they did not inspire, Vincent's famous Starry Night (F 612 JH 1731), executed soon after the garden scenes described in the text: "The moral sensibility which makes Edens and Tempes so easily, may not be always found, but the material landscape is never far off. We can find these enchantments without visiting the Como Lake, or the Madeira Islands. We exaggerate the praises of local scenery. In every landscape, the point of astonishment is the meeting of the sky and the earth, and that is seen from the first hillock as well as from the top of the Alleghanies. The stars at night stoop down over the brownest, homeliest common, with all the spiritual magnificence which they shed on the Campagna, or on the marble deserts of Egypt. The uprolled clouds and the colors of morning and evening, will transfigure maples and alders. The difference between landscape and landscape is small, but there is great difference in the beholders." (ibid.) 239. Alphonse Karr's See Ch. 39, n. 211. 240. "All those lovely canvases" BVG 596, 6/25/1889.

Context:
BVG 596, 6/25/1889: "But however it may be, outside Paris you quickly forget Paris, when throwing yourself into the heart of the country, your ideas change; but I for one cannot forget all those lovely canvases of Barbizon, and it seems hardly probable that anyone will do better than that, and unnecessary besides."
JLB 783, 6/25/1889: "But whatever the case, outside Paris one quickly forgets Paris, by throwing oneself into the heart of the country one changes one's ideas. But I for one couldn't forget all those beautiful Barbizon canvases then, and it seems unlikely and anyway unnecessary to do better than that."

241. "expressed all" BVG 593, 6/2/1889.

Context:
JLB 777, 5/31/1889-6/6/1889: "[Charles-François] Daubigny and [Théodore] Rousseau did that, though, with the expression of all the intimacy and all the great peace and majesty that it has, adding to it a feeling so heartbreaking, so personal."

242. distant and absurd BVG 626a, 2/10/1890-2/11/1890: Vincent put this feeling into words in a letter to Albert Aurier in February 1890.

Context:
JLB 853, 2/9/1890 or 2/10/1890: "You see, it seems to me so difficult to separate Impressionism from other things, I cannot see the point of so much sectarian thinking as we have seen these last few years, but I fear its absurdity."

243. "We shall always keep" BVG 590, 5/3/1889.

Context:
JLB 768, 5/3/1889: "And thus we'll always retain a certain passion for Impressionism, but I sense that I'm returning more and more to the ideas I already had before coming to Paris."

755 244. insurgent exhibition The show, which opened in May 1889, was organized by Gauguin and his friend Émile Schuffenecker. It became known as the "Café Volpini Show," after the name of the proprietor of the venue, an eatery opposite the official art exhibition at the Universal Exposition. See Chapter 41. 245. "So I am inclined" BVG 594, 6/9/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 242.)

Context:
JLB 779, 6/9/1889: "Am therefore inclined to believe that another new sect has been formed, no less infallible than the others that already exist."

246. "What storms in teacups" BVG 594, 6/9/1889.

Context:
JLB 779, 6/9/1889: "What storms in teacups."

247. "little things" BVG B21, 11/20/1889.

Context:
BVG B21, 11/20/1889: "All year I was doing little things after nature, without giving a thought to impressionism or whatever else."
JLB 822, 11/26/1889: "And the whole year, have fiddled around from life, hardly thinking of Impressionism or of this or that."

248. bed of irises BVG 591, 5/10/1889-5/15/1889: The painting is Irises (F 608 JH 1691, May, 1889, oil on canvas, 28 x 36.6 in., 71 x 93 cm., Getty Center, Los Angeles).

Context:
JLB 772, 5/9/1889: "I have two others on the go -- violet irises and a lilac bush. Two subjects taken from the garden."

249. "I have no ideas" BVG 596, 6/25/1889.

Context:
BVG 596, 6/25/1889: "I have no news to tell you, for the days are all the same; I have no ideas, except to think that a field of wheat or a cypress is well worth the trouble of looking at close up, and so on."
JLB 783, 6/25/1889: "Only there's a lack of news to write to you, for the days are all the same, as for ideas I have no others except to think that a wheatfield or a cypress are well worth the effort of looking at them from close at hand, and so on."

250. "to go out and look" BVG W13, 7/2/1889: Vincent gave this advice to his sister Wil: "I think I shan't urge you too much to read such dramatic books when I myself, returning from this reading, am always obliged to go and gaze at a blade of grass, a pine-tree branch, an ear of wheat, to calm myself" (JLB 785, 7/2/1889). We have combined elements from both translations.

Context:
BVG W13, 7/2/1889: "But never mind, I think I am not going to urge you too much to read books or dramas, seeing that I myself, after reading them for some time, feel obliged to go out and look at a blade of grass, the branch of a fir tree, an ear of wheat, in order to calm down."
JLB 785, 7/2/1889: "But anyway, I think I shan't urge you too much to read such dramatic books when I myself, returning from this reading, am always obliged to go and gaze at a blade of grass, a pine-tree branch, an ear of wheat, to calm myself."

251. view from his bedroom BVG 594, 6/9/1889. Vincent did two paintings -- Mountainous Landscape behind Saint-Paul Hospital (F 611 JH 1723) and Green Wheat Field (F 718 JH 1727) -- both showing essentially the same view of the enclosed green wheat field, the view from his bedroom window, but painted outside, in the enclosure itself. The first of these is described in the text, although Vincent provides considerably more detail: "In the foreground a field of wheat, ravaged and knocked to the ground after a storm. A boundary wall and beyond, grey foliage of a few olive trees, huts and hills. Finally, at the top of the painting a large white and grey cloud swamped by the azure." (JLB 779, 6/9/1889.) In the same letter, Vincent mentions another painting (probably Field of Poppies [F 581 JH 1751]), saying: "I have two landscapes on the go (no. 30 canvases) of views taken in the hills. One is the countryside that I glimpse from the window of my bedroom." (ibid.) Pickvance points out that Vincent's inclusion of Mountainous Landscape behind Saint-Paul Hospital (F 611 JH 1723) ("the country that I see from the window") as one of the two "views taken in the hills" is misleading since it implies that he did not paint it on the asylum grounds, which he did (Pickvance, pp. 93-94). Despite the almost identical perspectives of Mountainous Landscape behind Saint-Paul Hospital (F 611 JH 1723) and Green Wheat Field (F 718 JH 1727), Pickvance dates the latter to the following spring, 1890 (ibid.).

Context:
JLB 779, 6/9/1889: "One is the countryside that I glimpse from the window of my bedroom. In the foreground a field of wheat, ravaged and knocked to the ground after a storm. A boundary wall and beyond, grey foliage of a few olive trees, huts and hills."

252. made a perfect pendant BVG 594, 6/9/1889.

Context:
JLB 779, 6/9/1889: "It's a landscape [Mountainous Landscape behind Saint-Paul Hospital (F 611 JH 1723)] of extreme simplicity -- in terms of coloration as well. It would be suitable as a pendant to that study of the bedroom that's damaged."

253. "What I dream of" BVG 604, 9/5/1889-9/6/1889.

Context:
JLB 800, 9/5/1889-9/6/1889: "What I dream of in my best moments aren't so much dazzling colour effects as the half-tones once again."

254. deepest underbrush BVG 592, 5/22/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 254.)

Context:
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "Here's a new no. 30 canvas, commonplace again, like one of those chromos from a penny bazaar that depict eternal nests of greenery for lovers. Thick tree-trunks covered with ivy, the ground also covered with ivy and periwinkle, a stone bench and a bush of roses, blanched in the cold shadow. In the foreground a few plants with white calyxes. It's green, violet and pink."

255. directly into the sky Vincent's painting of a lilac bush (Lilacs [F 579 JH 1692]) shows a sky almost as purple as the irises he depicted at about the same time in Irises (F 608 JH 1691) (see Ch. 39, n. 248). An even more lilac sky dominates Green Wheat Field with Cypress (F 719 JH 1725), painted in mid-June. 256. "violet" Cadorin, in Peres, Hoyle and van Tilborgh, pp. 16-17: The list was compiled by Paolo Cadorin, a prominent conservator of paintings. His list is in the original French: "[Vincent] mentions tones like 'violet', 'violace', 'lilas', 'lilas pâle', 'lilas tendre', 'lilas rompu', 'rose', 'lilas uni', 'gris ou rose', 'jaune tourne au rose', 'rose-vert', 'violet-rose', etc." Cadorin goes on to make the point that, with age, many of these delicately formulated colors have changed appearance: "[Vincent's] paintings of that same period now appear to be mainly in the tones of cold pale green and light blue" (ibid.). 257. "purplish blue" Cadorin, in Peres, Hoyle and van Tilborgh, pp. 16-17. 258. "lilac" Cadorin, in Peres, Hoyle and van Tilborgh, pp. 16-17. 259. "pale lilac" Cadorin, in Peres, Hoyle and van Tilborgh, pp. 16-17. 260. "tender lilac" Cadorin, in Peres, Hoyle and van Tilborgh, pp. 16-17. 261. "broken lilac " Cadorin, in Peres, Hoyle and van Tilborgh, pp. 16-17. 262. "plain lilac " Cadorin, in Peres, Hoyle and van Tilborgh, pp. 16-17. 263. "grey rose" Cadorin, in Peres, Hoyle and van Tilborgh, pp. 16-17. 264. "yellowish rose" Cadorin, in Peres, Hoyle and van Tilborgh, pp. 16-17. 265. "greenish rose" Cadorin, in Peres, Hoyle and van Tilborgh, pp. 16-17. 266. "violet rose" Cadorin, in Peres, Hoyle and van Tilborgh, pp. 16-17. 267. "I feel tempted" BVG 594, 6/9/1889.

Context:
JLB 779, 6/9/1889: "Then I feel tempted to begin again with the simpler colours, the ochres for example."

756 268. Jan van Goyen BVG 594, 6/9/1889.

Context:
JLB 779, 6/9/1889: "Is a Van Goyen ugly because it's painted all in oils with very little neutral colour, or a [Georges] Michel?"

269. Georges Michel BVG 594, 6/9/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 268.)

Context:
JLB 779, 6/9/1889: "Is a Van Goyen ugly because it's painted all in oils with very little neutral colour, or a Michel?"

270. "delicate lilac skies" BVG 325, 9/16/1883: Writing to Theo from Drenthe in 1883 about such shared favorites as Jan van Goyen, Georges Michel, Philips Koninck, Jules Dupré and Théodore Rousseau (see Chapter 20), Vincent painted a vivid picture of the pleasures of these masters of the half-tone who recaptured his imagination in Saint-Rémy in 1889: "when that vast, sun-scorched earth stands out dark against the delicate lilac tints of the evening sky, and the very last fine dark blue line on the horizon separates earth from sky -- can be as sublime as in a J. Dupré" (JLB 387, 9/16/1883).

Context:
BVG 325, 9/16/1883: "In the evening when a poor little figure is moving through the twilight -- when that vast sun-scorched earth stands out darkly against the delicate lilac hues of the evening sky, and the very last little dark-blue line at the horizon separates the earth from the sky -- that same aggravating, monotonous spot can be as sublime as a Jules Dupré."
JLB 387, 9/16/1883: "That same irritatingly tedious spot -- in the evening as a poor little figure moves through the twilight -- when that vast, sun-scorched earth stands out dark against the delicate lilac tints of the evening sky, and the very last fine dark blue line on the horizon separates earth from sky -- can be as sublime as in a J. Dupré."

271. sublime serenity BVG 325, 9/16/1883. (See Ch. 39, n. 270.)

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

272. view of a garden path The Garden of Saint-Paul Hospital, F 734 JH 1698, May, 1889, oil on canvas, 37.4 x 39.7 in., 95 x 75.5 cm., Kröller-Müller Museum Otterlo. 273. but not yet beyond Pickvance, p. 93-94: Pickvance detects this gradation of freedom: "During these weeks [i.e., his first weeks of drawing and painting in the garden], van Gogh was not allowed outside the asylum walls; indeed, he was not even allowed into the walled field beneath his window." According to Pickvance, Peyron agreed to lift this restriction "by about 5 June" (ibid.). 274. green wheat turning golden The wheat ripened early in the southern sun, as Vincent informed his mother in July 1889 (JLB 784, 7/2/1889). This difference from the wheatfields he knew in Holland had surprised him the previous year in Arles. Pickvance confirms this with an account from an English tourist traveling through Saint-Rémy in 1892: "The gardens of St. Rémy are the fortune of the place, and owe to their happy situation behind the range of the Alpines an earlier harvest of flowers and fruit than elsewhere, even in the sunny South. In the roomy inn-garden we wondered at the luxuriance of the spring, as we sat in the shadow of the blossoming Guelder-rose bush, or picked great trails of rose and syringa. We gathered our first dish of strawberries on the 23rd of April." (quoted in Pickvance, p. 23.) 275. "the warm tones" BVG W12, 6/16/1889: We have reversed the order of Vincent's description. The painting described is Green Wheat Field with Cypress (F 719 JH 1725) and it was probably the first painting Vincent made outside the asylum grounds (see Pickvance, pp. 95-96). He painted the more familiar wheatfield under his window at almost the same time (Field of Spring Wheat at Sunrise [F 720 JH 1728]), using ochre highlights to show the wheat in a similar stage of ripeness. Here, however, the liberal use of ochre may be partly to highlight the golden rays cast by the rising sun, so the wheat may not be as ripe as it appears, which might put this painting earlier than Green Wheat Field with Cypress (F 719 JH 1725).

Context:
BVG W12, 6/16/1889: "At the end of the field there is a little house with a tall somber cypress which stands out against the far-off hills with their violet-like and bluish tones, and against a sky the color of forget-me-nots with pink streaks, whose pure hues form a contrast with the scorched ears, which are already heavy, and have the warm tones of a bread crust."
JLB 780, 6/16/1889: "At the end of the field a little pink house with a tall and dark cypress tree that stands out against the distant purplish and bluish hills, and against a forget-me-not blue sky streaked with pink whose pure tones contrast with the already heavy, scorched ears, whose tones are as warm as the crust of a loaf of bread."

276. "As I find him" Peyron, "On His New Patient, Vincent," in Stein, ed., pp. 152-153. 757 277. "When the thing" BVG 594, 6/9/1889.

Context:
JLB 779, 6/9/1889: "When the thing depicted is stylistically absolutely in agreement and at one with the manner of depiction, isn't that what creates the quality of a piece of art?"

278. useless perspective frame Silverman, pp. 400-401: According to Silverman, "Van Gogh most likely did not have his perspective frame with him when he was admitted to the Saint-Remy asylum; if he did -- which is not impossible, as he seems to have had, for example, his print collection with him -- it is unlikely that the device was up and operating." 279. "In the open air" BVG 605, 9/7/1889-9/8/1889.

Context:
BVG 605, 9/7/1889-9/8/1889: " In the open air, exposed to the wind, to the sun, to people's curiosity, one works as best one can, one fills one's canvas regardless. Yet that is how one captures the true and the essential -- the most difficult part."
JLB 801, 9/10/1889: " Out of doors, exposed to the wind, the sun, people's curiosity, one works as one can, one fills one's canvas regardless. Yet then one catches the true and the essential -- that's the most difficult thing."

280. an article about a display BVG 594, 6/9/1889. The May 25, 1889, issue of Le Monde Illustré, included an article featuring the theatrically speculative design of an ancient Egyptian house by the architect of the Paris opera house, Charles Garnier (illustrated in Pickvance, p. 32). Vincent wrote: "How I'd have liked to see an Egyptian house in the exhibition, built by the architect Jules Garnier [sic] -- painted in red, yellow and blue with a garden divided regularly into beds by rows of bricks -- the dwelling of the people we know only in the state of mummies or in granite" (JLB 779, 6/9/1889). 281. granite images BVG 594, 6/9/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 280.) Vincent does not mention where he saw these "mummies" and granite monuments, but he was a denizen of the Louvre which, thanks to Napoleon's imperial depredations, had the most extensive collection of ancient Egyptian artifacts anywhere outside of Egypt.

Context:
JLB 779, 6/9/1889: "How I'd have liked to see an Egyptian house in the exhibition, built by the architect Jules Garnier [sic]-- painted in red, yellow and blue with a garden divided regularly into beds by rows of bricks -- the dwelling of the people we know only in the state of mummies or in granite."

282. "working by feeling" BVG 594, 6/9/1889: Vincent's view of ancient Egyptian civilization was, to the modern ear, startlingly blind to the system of slavery and cruelty on which its great stone monuments were built. He sees in the huge Ozymondean images of pharaohs only "calm, serene kings, wise and gentle, patient, good." As for the people they ruled, Vincent says only "[they] seem unable to be other than they are; eternally farmers who worship the sun." Elsewhere in the same letter, he speaks of the civilization's "goodness, infinite patience, wisdom, serenity." (See Ch. 39, n. 283.) This view of ancient Egyptian society was, of course, every bit as distorted as Vincent's view of Japanese society. Given his background in Biblical studies, however, the latter is easier to understand than the former.

Context:
BVG 594, 6/9/1889: "But then to come back to the point, the Egyptian artists, having faith, working by feeling and by instinct, express all these intangible things -- kindness, infinite patience, wisdom, serenity -- by a few knowing curves and by the marvellous proportions. That is to say once more, when the thing represented and the manner of representing it agree, the thing has style and quality."
JLB 779, 6/9/1889: "But there you are, to get back to the point, since the Egyptian artists thus have a faith, working from feeling and instinct, they express all these intangible things: goodness, infinite patience, wisdom, serenity, with a few masterly curves and marvellous proportions. That's to say once more, when the thing depicted and the manner of depicting it are in accord, the thing has style and quality." (Emphasis in original.)

283. "patience, wisdom" BVG 594, 6/9/1889.

Context:
BVG 594, 6/9/1889: "But then to come back to the point, the Egyptian artists, having faith, working by feeling and by instinct, express all these intangible things -- kindness, infinite patience, wisdom, serenity -- by a few knowing curves and by the marvellous proportions."
JLB 779, 6/9/1889: "But there you are, to get back to the point, since the Egyptian artists thus have a faith, working from feeling and instinct, they express all these intangible things: goodness, infinite patience, wisdom, serenity, with a few masterly curves and marvellous proportions" (emphasis in original).

284. "harmony" BVG 594, 6/9/1889.

Context:
BVG 594, 6/9/1889: "Now as to the impressionists -- once again, if an interior is not complete without a work of art, neither is a picture complete if it is not in harmony with surroundings originating in and resulting from the period in which it was produced."
JLB 779, 6/9/1889: "Now the Impressionists -- once again, if an interior isn't complete without a work of art, neither is a painting if it isn't at one with original surroundings, resulting from the era in which it was produced."

285. still lifes of Chardin BVG 594, 6/9/1889.

Context:
JLB 779, 6/9/1889: "That's why, as regards painting, a household loaf is above all good when it's painted by Chardin."

286. Hals, Rembrandt, and Vermeer BVG 594, 6/9/1889.

Context:
JLB 779, 6/9/1889: "Thus the paintings of Hals, Rembrandt, Vermeer are only at home in the old Dutch house."

287. wondered to Theo BVG 594, 6/9/1889.

Context:
JLB 779, 6/9/1889: "Now the Impressionists -- once again, if an interior isn't complete without a work of art, neither is a painting if it isn't at one with original surroundings, resulting from the era in which it was produced. And I don't know if the Impressionists are worth more than their time, or rather aren't yet worth as much. In a word, are there souls and interiors of houses that are more important than what has been expressed by painting, I'm inclined to believe so."

758 288. cartoons of huge boulders Olive Trees with the Alpilles in the Background, F 712 JH 1740, June, 1889, oil on canvas, 28.5 x 36.2 in., 72.5 x 92 cm., Museum of Modern Art, New York. Pickvance makes an argument that the "seemingly tortured and turbulent shapes of the mountains are not bizarre" (Pickvance, pp. 101-102). He documents the distinctive rock formations of the Alpilles, the Les Deux Trous (Two-Holes Rock) and Mont Gaussier, to suggest that Vincent's depiction is not an "exaggerated expressionist outpouring of van Gogh's disturbed psyche" (ibid.). But surely this conclusion is based on a false dichotomy. Vincent's depiction of these formations may be "accurate" as to their general configuration, but it is hardly realistic. Nor does the cartoon-like way in which he renders them necessarily certify his "disturbed psyche." We find them neither "tortured" nor "bizarre," but, indeed, both playful and fully realized. Nor do we credit Pickvance's effort to find the inspiration for Vincent's "fantastic and unreal configuration" in "the ideas and practices of Paul Gauguin and Emile Bernard," which, Pickvance argues, Vincent picked up "as if by osmosis" from his distant and uncommunicative former comrades in Pont-Aven (ibid., p. 102; see Ch. 39, n. 297). (Pickvance calls Olive Trees with the Alpilles in the Background (F 712 JH 1740) "a Pont-Aven picture painted in Saint-Remy" [ibid.].) 289. ground ripples Olive Trees with the Alpilles in the Background (F 712 JH 1740) and Olive Grove (F 585 JH 1758). 290. multiplication of horizons Le Mont Gaussier with the Mas de Saint-Paul (F 725 JH 1744) and Enclosed Wheat Field with Reaper (F 1546 JH 1754). 291. objects in space Mountainous Landscape behind Saint-Paul Hospital (F 611 JH 1723), Olive Trees with the Alpilles in the Background (F 712 JH 1740), Wheat Field with Cypresses at the Haute Galline near Eygalieres (F 717 JH 1756). 292. huge crescent Cypresses (F 613 JH 1746) and Cypresses (F 1525 JH 1747) (drawing after Cypresses [F 613 JH 1746]). 293. olive trees loosen Olive Trees with the Alpilles in the Background (F 712 JH 1740), Olive Grove (F 585 JH 1758), Olive Grove (F 715 JH 1759), and Olive Grove: Bright Blue Sky (F 709 JH 1760). 294. seems to merge Compare the early paintings of the walled enclosure (At the Foot of the Mountains [F 723 JH 1722], Mountainous Landscape behind Saint-Paul Hospital [F 611 JH 1723], Green Wheat Field [F 718 JH 1727], Field of Spring Wheat at Sunrise [F 720 JH 1728]) with the later, looser depictions (Wheat Field with Reaper and Sun [F 617 JH 1753], Evening Landscape with Rising Moon [F 735 JH 1761], Enclosed Field with Ploughman [F 625 JH 1768], and Wheat Fields with Reaper at Sunrise [F 618 JH 1773]). 295. a country lane Enclosed Field with Ploughman, F 625 JH 1768, Late August, 1889, oil on canvas, 19.3 x 24.4 in., 49 x 62 cm., Private collection. 296. a hedgerow Wheat Field with Reaper and Sun (F 617 JH 1753) and Wheat Fields with Reaper at Sunrise (F 618 JH 1773). 297. was convinced BVG 595, 6/17/1889-6/18/1889.

Context:
JLB 782, 6/18/1889: "Although I haven't seen the latest canvases either by Gauguin or Bernard, I'm fairly sure that these two studies I speak of are comparable in sentiment. When you've seen these two studies for a while, as well as the one of the ivy, I'll perhaps be able to give you, better than in words, an idea of the things Gauguin, Bernard and I sometimes chatted about and that preoccupied us."

298. "more spontaneous" BVG 595, 6/17/1889-6/18/1889.

Context:
BVG 595, 6/17/1889-6/18/1889: "When you have looked at these two studies for some time, and that of the ivy as well, it will perhaps give you some idea, better than words could, of the things that Gauguin and Bernard and I sometimes used to talk about, and which we've thought about a good deal; it is not a return to the romantic or to religious ideas, no. Nevertheless, by going the way of Delacroix, more than is apparent, by colour and a more spontaneous drawing than delusive precision, one could express the purer nature of a countryside compared with the suburbs and cabarets of Paris."
JLB 782, 6/18/1889: "When you've seen these two studies for a while, as well as the one of the ivy, I'll perhaps be able to give you, better than in words, an idea of the things Gauguin, Bernard and I sometimes chatted about and that preoccupied us. It's not a return to the romantic or to religious ideas, no. However, by going the way of Delacroix, more than it seems, by colour and a more determined drawing than trompe-l'oeil precision, one might express a country nature that is purer than the suburbs, the bars of Paris."

299. "They do not ask" BVG 607, 9/19/1889.

Context:
BVG 607, 9/19/1889: "Where these lines are close and deliberate it begins to be a picture, even if it is exaggerated. That is a little what Gauguin and Bernard feel, they do not ask the correct shape of a tree at all, but they do insist that one can say if the shape is round or square -- and honestly, they are right, exasperated as they are by certain people's photographic and empty perfection."
JLB 805, 9/20/1889: "Where these lines are close together and deliberate the painting begins, even if it may be exaggerated. That's what Bernard and Gauguin feel a little bit, they won't ask for the correct shape of a tree at all, but they absolutely insist that one says if the shape is round or square -- and my word, they're right -- Exasperated by certain people's photographic and inane perfection."

300. "What an odd thing" BVG 605, 9/7/1889-9/8/1889.

Context:
JLB 801, 9/10/1889: "What a funny thing the touch is, the brushstroke" (emphasis in original).

301. "in keeping" BVG 605, 9/7/1889-9/8/1889.

Context:
BVG 605, 9/7/1889-9/8/1889: "But when, after some time, one resumes the study and alters the brushstrokes in keeping with the objects -- the result is without doubt more harmonious and pleasant to look at, and one can add whatever serenity and happiness one feels."
JLB 801, 9/10/1889: "But when one returns to this study again after a time, and orders one's brushstrokes in the direction of the objects -- certainly it's more harmonious and agreeable to see, and one adds to it whatever one has of serenity and smiles."

302. "the result is" BVG 605, 9/7/1889-9/8/1889.

Context:
BVG 605, 9/7/1889-9/8/1889: "But when, after some time, one resumes the study and alters the brushstrokes in keeping with the objects -- the result is without doubt more harmonious and pleasant to look at, and one can add whatever serenity and happiness one feels."
JLB 801, 9/10/1889: "But when one returns to this study again after a time, and orders one's brushstrokes in the direction of the objects -- certainly it's more harmonious and agreeable to see, and one adds to it whatever one has of serenity and smiles."

303. cited the great engravers BVG 594, 6/9/1889. This is the final turn of Vincent's chain of analogies to support the proposition that a work of art needs to be "absolutely in agreement and at one with the manner of depiction" (JLB 779, 6/9/1889). He starts with the statement that Chardin's still lifes express a loaf of bread incomparably well (see Ch. 39, n. 285). He then pays a similar tribute to the artists of ancient Egypt. Finally, unexpectedly, brilliantly, he shifts from subject matter to medium with this reference to engravers, saying essentially that "great engravers are not just reproducing images, they are adapting those images to their medium to create a separate and different, but equally great, work of art." He leaves unsaid the inevitable and most obvious final step of the argument: that he, himself, is doing the same thing when he "adapts" images from nature. He is restating them (elsewhere, he uses the term "resuming" them) in a manner best suited to the subject (JLB 801, 9/10/1889). In this obscure, incomplete argument, we think, lies the essence of Expressionism.

Context:
JLB 779, 6/9/1889: "Thus also the servant girl in [Henri] Leys's great fresco, when she's engraved by [Félix] Braquemond, becomes a new work of art -- or Meissonier's little reader when it's [Jules Ferdinand] Jacquemart who engraves him -- since the manner of engraving and the thing depicted are as one" (emphasis in original).

304. "fit" Caird, pp. 24-25: According to this roughly contemporaneous description of the valley: "The eye follows everywhere, fascinated, the battalions of cypresses." 305. "bottle-green" BVG 596, 6/25/1889.

Context:
BVG 596, 6/25/1889: "Two studies of cypresses of that difficult bottle-green hue; I have worked their foregrounds with thick layers of white lead, which gives firmness to the ground."
JLB 783, 6/25/1889: "Two studies of cypresses of that difficult shade of bottle green. I've worked their foregrounds with thick impastos of white lead which gives firmness to the ground."

306. "beauty of line" BVG 596, 6/25/1889.

Context:
BVG 596, 6/25/1889: "It is as beautiful of line and proportion as an Egyptian obelisk."
JLB 783, 6/25/1889: "It's beautiful as regards lines and proportions, like an Egyptian obelisk."

307. "The cypresses are always" BVG 596, 6/25/1889.

Context:
JLB 783, 6/25/1889: "The cypresses still preoccupy me, I'd like to do something with them like the canvases of the sunflowers because it astonishes me that no one has yet done them as I see them."

308. "a splash of black" BVG 596, 6/25/1889.

Context:
BVG 596, 6/25/1889: "It is a splash of black in a sunny landscape, but it is one of the most interesting black notes, and the most difficult to hit off exactly that I can imagine."
JLB 783, 6/25/1889: "It's the dark patch in a sun-drenched landscape, but it's one of the most interesting dark notes, the most difficult to hit off exactly that I can imagine" (emphasis in original).

759 309. a little spiral This technique can be seen in Cypresses (F 613 JH 1746) and Cypresses with Two Female Figures (F 620 JH 1748), but is most obvious in the drawings of the paintings that Vincent made and sent to Theo, Cypresses (F 1525 JH 1747) and Cypresses (F 1524 JH 1749). 310. " Enfin" BVG 595, 6/17/1889-6/18/1889.

Context:
BVG 595, 6/17/1889-6/18/1889: " Enfin, I have a landscape with olive trees and also a new study of a starry sky."
JLB 782, 6/18/1889: " At last I have a landscape with olive trees, and also a new study of a starry sky."

760 311. Theo had liked it BVG T9, 5/21/1889. Theo wrote Vincent in May, "The Berceuse, the portrait of Roulin, the little sower, with the tree, the baby, the starry night, the sunflowers and the chair with the pipe and the tobacco are the ones I like best up to now" (JLB 120, 6/12/1877). Vincent painted the new starry night (Starry Night [F 612 JH 1731]) less than a month after receiving this approval from Theo.

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, the portrait of Roulin, the little sower, with the tree, the baby, the starry night, the sunflowers and the chair with the pipe and the tobacco are the ones I like best up to now."

312. "in order not to exhibit" BVG 593, 6/2/1889: We have altered the translation slightly.

Context:
BVG 593, 6/2/1889: "As for the exhibition of the Independents, it's all one to me, just act as if I weren't here. So as not to be indifferent, and not to exhibit anything too mad, perhaps the 'Starry Night' and the landscape with yellow vegetation, which was in the walnut frame."
JLB 777, 5/31/1889-6/6/1889: "As regards the exhibition of the Independents, it's all the same to me, act as if I wasn't there at all. To not be indifferent and not exhibit something too mad, perhaps the starry night and the landscape with yellow greenery which was in the walnut frame."

313. about a mile downhill Strangely, the literature does not agree on the distance between the asylum of Saint Paul and the town of Saint-Rémy. Coquiot puts the distance at "about 1200 metres" from the center of town -- that is, about three quarters of a mile (Coquiot, p. 200). Rewald, however, puts the asylum at "two miles from Saint-Remy itself" (Rewald, p. 303). Pickvance cites a contemporary source that puts the distance between the train station (on the north side of Saint-Rémy) at a distance of "about 2 k[ilometers]" (1¼ miles) from the ruins at Glanum, which were just to the south of the asylum (Pickvance, p. 23). 314. a careful sketch Bird's-Eye View of Saint Rémy, F 1541v JH 1729, June, 1889, pencil, pen, washed, 6.5 x 11.8 in., 16.5 x 30 cm., Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam. 315. birthplace of Nostradamus Cook, pp. 120-122: "[Saint-Rémy's] most famous child was Michael Nostradamus [Michel de Nostredame, 1503-1566; French astrologer and physician], who first saw the light here in 1503. His marvelous 'powder' proved so successful against the plague in 1546 that he was given an annuity by the town of Aix; but professional jealousy seems to have driven him to literature, and in 1555 appeared the first edition of the rude quatrains that were to be his famous Prophecies." 316. Frédéric Mistral Clébert and Richard, p. 58: According to Clébert and Richard, the French poets Frédéric Mistral, Paul Mariéton, and Marius Girard met in Saint-Rémy in 1888 and Edmond de Goncourt visited three years before that, writing in his Journal a paean to the beauty of the Saint-Rémy countryside, chastising painters like Théodore Rousseau for not having portrayed its "picturesque prospects" and lamenting that "not a landscape painter of repute" had "made a picture of these boulevards" (De Goncourt, quoted in Clébert and Richard, p. 58). 317. Edmond de Goncourt Clébert and Richard, p. 58. (See Ch. 39, n. 316.) 318. bustling town Bonnet, pp. 4-5: Contrary to its frequent portrayal in the literature as a sleepy, remote village (most such portrayals are based on Vincent's painting), Bonnet paints a picture of a vital, if small, commercial and agricultural center with a thriving middle class and many ties to surrounding cities, starting in the eighteenth century and continuing to the end of the nineteenth century. Saint-Rémy's middle class, according to Bonnet, "had almost all grown up out of old country families who had prospered not only by cultivating or selectively breeding certain products (seeds, madder, teasels for carding wool, olives, oils etc) but also by trading them on the international market during the whole of the 19th and the beginning of the 20th centuries. Adjoining their houses one can still see at several points the huge buildings (offices, shops, warehouses) which ensured a large number of jobs for the local work force. It is an aspect of both the rural and commercial sides of Saint-Rémy, the Saint-Rémy of both the farmer and the businessman, which for so long contributed to the economic stability and prosperity of the region." (ibid., pp. 5-8.) 319. of six thousand Coquiot, p. 198: Saint-Rémy was the principal town of its "canton" -- provincial district. 320. twelfth-century church A church was present on the site as early as 1122 CE and was subsequently and substantially enlarged. Much of the original structure, other than the fourteenth-century bell tower, collapsed in 1818 and was rebuilt. 321. stone bell tower See Ch. 39, n. 320. 322. simple country chapel Among Vincent's most dramatic alterations to the real Saint Martin is his deletion of its two most conspicuous features: its dome and its neo-classical columned portico, built in 1821. Kôdera also notes that the church in Vincent's painting "with its long spire is a Dutch style of architecture, totally different from St. Martin in Saint-Remy or any other Provençal churches" (Kôdera, p. 143). 761 323. "a whole world" Dickens, p. 183: "A whole province of France -- all France itself -- lay under the night sky, concentrated into a faint hair-breadth line. So does a whole world with all its greatnesses and littlenesses, lie in a twinkling star. And as mere human knowledge can split a ray of light and analyse the manner of its composition, so, sublimer intelligences may read in the feeble shining of this earth of ours, every thought and act, every vice and virtue, of every responsible creature on it." 324. "powdered with" Zola, Une Page d'amour (A Love Affair), pp. 148-149. 325. "Behind these thousands" Zola, Une Page d'amour (A Love Affair), pp. 148-149. 762 326. unstudied curves BVG 594, 6/9/1889. We believe this is what Vincent means when he refers to the secret of ancient Egyptian art as "a few masterly curves and marvellous proportions" (JLB 779, 6/9/1889). (See Ch. 39. n. 282.)

Context:
JLB 779, 6/9/1889: "But there you are, to get back to the point, since the Egyptian artists thus have a faith, working from feeling and instinct, they express all these intangible things: goodness, infinite patience, wisdom, serenity, with a few masterly curves and marvellous proportions. That's to say once more, when the thing depicted and the manner of depicting it are in accord, the thing has style and quality." (Emphasis in original.)

327. "add whatever serenity" BVG 605, 9/7/1889-9/8/1889.

Context:
BVG 605, 9/7/1889-9/8/1889: "But when, after some time, one resumes the study and alters the brushstrokes in keeping with the objects -- the result is without doubt more harmonious and pleasant to look at, and one can add whatever serenity and happiness one feels."
JLB 801, 9/10/1889: "But when one returns to this study again after a time, and orders one's brushstrokes in the direction of the objects -- certainly it's more harmonious and agreeable to see, and one adds to it whatever one has of serenity and smiles."

328. "feeling and instinct" JLB 779, 6/9/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 282.) A few months later (September 1889), Vincent made virtually the same claim on behalf of his own art. Speaking about a group of paintings he has sent to Theo, he writes: "All in all the only things I consider a little good in it are the Wheatfield, the Mountain, the Orchard, the Olive trees with the blue hills and the Portrait and the Entrance to the quarry ..." (JLB 805, 9/20/1889). The others he dismisses with this criticism: "the rest says nothing to me, because it lacks personal will, feeling in the lines. Where these lines are close together and deliberate the painting begins, even if it may be exaggerated." (ibid.)

Context:
JLB 779, 6/9/1889: "But there you are, to get back to the point, since the Egyptian artists thus have a faith, working from feeling and instinct, they express all these intangible things: goodness, infinite patience, wisdom, serenity, with a few masterly curves and marvellous proportions. That's to say once more, when the thing depicted and the manner of depicting it are in accord, the thing has style and quality." (Emphasis in original.)

329. "nerve storms" James, quoted in Dewhurst and Bear, p. 502. When psychiatrists, including Vincent's own psychiatrists, diagnosed him with epilepsy, they have generally referred to a form now called temporal lobe epilepsy – or TLE. Although it is caused, like the more well-known grand mal epilepsy, by dysfunctions in electrical charges in the brain, its symptoms are quite different. At its basic level, TLE is what Lubin called "an abnormal focus of electrical activity in the temporal lobe of the brain" (Lubin, p. 191). Blumer refers to "irritative lesions" that cause an "excitation of the temporal limbic system," which in turn cause a constellation of emotional and behavioral patterns associated with TLE (Blumer, "The Illness of Vincent van Gogh," p. 523). Beyond that, the definition of the disease becomes much more complex.  330. "explosions" Lennox and Lennox, p. 726: "There is, then, a delicate balance between inhibition and facilitation. An upset balance means a generalized explosive discharge. The most extraordinary characteristic of the central nervous system is the relative rarity of epileptic fits in a system possessing all the potential conditions necessary for their eruption." 331. "epileptic neurons" Niedermeyer, in Blumer, ed., pp. 100-101: Niedermeyer employs a vivid metaphor to suggest how these few "epileptic neurons" recruit normal neurons to their abnormal behavior: "The strongly epileptic cells generate the epileptic activity, while the weaker cells gradually follow the lead and produce synchronous epileptic firing, similar to human political behavior in which hard-core revolutionaries may lead a mass of followers." 332. most sensitive areas Niedermeyer, in Blumer, ed., p. 120: "What causes the temporal lobe's special proneness to epileptic seizures? The limbic structures (amygdala and hippocampus) are highly epliptogenic (low threshold areas), either generating epileptic activity or amplifying the epileptic activity originating from neocortical portions. Furthermore, the hippocampus is very vulnerable to ... damage because of its rather parsimonious blood supply." Bear cites studies that show the temporal-limbic structures as "particularly epileptogenic -- subject to kindling or progressive electrical sensitization from discharges conducted along the multiple sensory pathways converging on them ... In fact, the development of daughter foci within the limbic system in reaction to epilepsy beginning elsewhere is well-documented in animals and man." (Bear, in Trimble and Bolwig, eds., p. 21.) 333. especially the temporal lobe Niedermeyer, in Blumer, ed., p. 119: "More than 50 percent of focal epilepsies originate in the temporal lobe. Thus, a large percentage (usually between 40 percent and 60 percent) of the patients treated in adult seizure clinics consists of temporal lobe epileptics." 334. "bombardment" Lennox and Lennox, pp. 729-731. 335. permanently altered Bear, in Trimble and Bolwig, eds., pp. 20-21: "These short-term escapes from control are relatively infrequent, suggesting that seizure suppression mechanisms are effective over intermediate time periods. However, might there be other forms of uncorrected errors occurring over longer-term, interictal periods? If the temporal lobe is a meeting place for sensory stimuli and biological drives such as aggression, fear, or sexuality, then aberrantly firing neurons or those with a lowered threshold for discharge could, over an extended time period, produce cumulalive errors of emotional association." Blumer concurs: "In conjunction with the episodic disorders described thus far, the genuine epileptic gradually develops a variably pronounced, but permanent change in his personality, usually within the first five or six years" (Blumer, "The Psychiatric Dimension of Epilepsy," in Blumer, ed., p. 32). 336. a syndrome Bear, Freeman and Greenberg, in Blumer, ed., pp. 218-219: Known as "Interictal Behavior Syndrome" because the seizures themselves are referred to as "ictal" events. 337. "temporal lobe epilepsy" Bolwig, in Trimble and Bolwig, eds., pp. 4-5. 338. Sexual appetite waned Blumer, Psychiatric Aspects of Epilepsy, pp. 37-38: The symptom is known as "hyposexuality." According to Blumer's review of the literature: "temporal lobe seizure activity tends to have a profound and chronic suppressing effect on sexual arousal and response." Gastaut was the first to identify this symptom with the last years of Vincent's life (Gastaut, "Mémoires Originaux," p. 226). 763 339. exacerbated by alcohol Gastaut, "Mémoires Originaux," p. 228. Lennox and Lennox add a layer of brain science to Gastaut's inference: "We may assume the existence of a group of neurons with an increased tendency to hypersynchrony and to epileptic discharge. This may be of genetic or of acquired origin. What may be the trigger mechanisms? The chemical environment of the neurons is undoubtedly significant. Changes in the chemical environment may act on restricted areas of the brain selectively. Acetylcholine increases the tendency to after discharge. Afferent bombardment plays a part." (Lennox and Lennox, pp. 730-731.) 340. hallmarks of latent epilepsy Gastaut, Morin and Lesèvre, p. 3. 341. Emotional disturbances led Gastaut, Morin and Lesèvre, p. 12: "The majority of psychomotor patients introduce more or less to emotional disturbance violent ones and more or less frequent, generally acts of impulses, of explosive angers, caused by futile reasons, much more rarely of a permanent irritability without paroxystic violence, exceptionally of perverse demonstrations." 342. "paroxystic violence" Gastaut, Morin and Lesèvre, p. 12. (See Ch. 39, n. 240.) 343. brain injuries Gastaut, "Mémoires Originaux," p. 208: This is Gastaut's famous argument: "We propose ... the existence of a single cerebral lesion at the temporal lobe on one side or on both sides. Lesion on a fragile and hereditary brain which could lead to a reaction psychosis in 1874, before provocation under the influence of alcohol the psychomotor crises during the last years of his life." Gastaut "details the symptoms of Van Gogh to demonstrate that they correspond to crises psychomotor among people who have temporo-para-temporal lesions" (ibid.). Further, Gastaut believes that Vincent's "cerebral lesion ... appeared during his childhood, perhaps at birth" (ibid., p. 227). He goes on to give an elaborate exegesis of the scant information about Vincent's birth and his "crania-facial asymmetry" to support the "obstetrical origin" of his epilepsy-inducing lesion (ibid.). 344. tumors Niedermeyer, in Blumer, ed., p. 119: Niedermeyer cites the results of one survey which showed that brain tumors accounted for 12.2 percent of temporal lobe epilepsy cases, especially in the case of adult-onset. He also cites as other possible pathological causes: "discrete focal lesions or hippocampal sclerosis (pararhinal sclerosis, mesiotemporal sclerosis) or ... areas of cortical neuronal loss with gliosis." 345. birth defects Gastaut, "Mémoires Originaux," p. 227. (See Ch. 39, n. 343.) 346. Heredity continued Blumer, "The Psychiatric Dimension of Epilepsy," in Blumer, ed., p. 53: Blumer reports Lennox and Lennox's finding of a "genetic factor" in the existence of a significant correlation between seizure victims and a history of seizures in near relatives. He concludes that the data "suggest[s] strongly a familial predisposition, probably owing to genetic factors." 347. Stress Monroe, Creative Brainstorms, pp. 33-35: "It has been demonstrated that even purely psychological but stressful events eliciting emotions will precipitate such seizures." Monroe uses this truism to build a bridge between the two camps in the literature on Vincent's mental affliction: psycho-dynamic theories (generally advanced by psychiatrists) and neurophy-siologic theories (generally advanced by neurologists). 348. parasitic ideas Bolwig, in Trimble and Bolwig, eds., pp. 4-5: In his discussion of "cognitive symptomology" of temporal lobe epilepsy, Bolwig lists three subgroups: "ideational phenomena," "impaired memory function," and "other phenomena." Of the first of these, he writes, "Forced thinking is probably the most common ideational symptom. It is most often new thoughts (parasitic ideas) which intrude into the patient's awareness at the onset of seizure, but so do thoughts which had been in the mind of the patient for some time. The content of such thoughts are often of metaphysical or mystical nature." 349. to the exclusion of all else Lennox and Lennox, pp. 283-284: Lennox and Lennox label this "compulsive thinking" and say of it: "Thought-control is essential to productive and happy living. When thoughts run persistently in a single groove, or become an unmanageable riot, or shift from one ugly subject to another, psychiatric help is usually called for. However, unprovoked and uncontrollable thinking may possess the person only paroxysmally and briefly. In keeping with most epileptic manifestations, thoughts are unpleasant rather than pleasant." 350. alienating those around him Gastaut, "Mémoires Originaux," p. 221: Gastaut introduces the term "hypersociability" to Vincent's temporal lobe epilepsy symptomology, but struggles, in a particularly opaque discussion, to reconcile Vincent's lack of social skills and his inability to make genuine connections generally with the lay implications of "hypersociability," which suggests extreme interpersonal interactivity. In fact, Vincent was ill-socialized and prone to "monoïdeisme" -- an obsessive focus on a single idea to the exclusion of all else. Gastaut reconciles this "paradox" by defining hypersociability in terms of "viscosity" or "adhesivity" -- a monomaniacal fixation on single relationships rather than a broad sociability. "As with his monoïdeisme, his attention is not very mobile and his apathy prevents him from communicating at any time with all the people of his entourage and makes him adhere lengthily and superficially to some of them, generally those closest to him. ... he was unable to take part in the shared experience of life." (At one point, Gastaut attempts to redefine Vincent's symptom as "para-sociability" [ibid.].)

Mauron lucidly summarizes Gastaut's notion of "viscosity" and traces it through Vincent's long history of lost friends and alienated family members: "Vincent captures them in his orbit, adopts them, assimilates them to himself and requires them to be like him without suffering from the contradiction. ... Now, there comes a time where the person concerned resists this all-consuming assimilation. He argues, asserts himself and refuses. From then on, relations become strained and contact negative. Vincent takes umbrage, makes himself out to be a victim and no longer seeks amidst the bravado for the difficulties remarked on by his father, but for unhappiness and a humiliating break in relations. The problem is that through a well-known mechanism Vincent now projects aggressive phantasms onto the other man, making the latter a hostile and persecutory figure. This sequence of mechanisms successively forbade Vincent a string of social contacts, creating around him the solitude he feared. He must continually change his environment because everyone is poisoned in turn and becomes intolerable to him: hence his movements and, in general, his psychopathy." (Mauron, pp. 102-103.)

351. overstimulation Bear, in Trimble and Bolwig, eds., p. 21. 352. "lightning" Temkin, pp. 317-318. (See Ch. 39, n. 134.) 353. sunlight dappling Niedermeyer, in Blumer, ed., p. 122. 354. fluttering of the eyelids Niedermeyer, in Blumer, ed., p. 122: Niedermeyer lists "flicker sensitivity and seizures induced by eye closure" among his "mechanisms of seizure induction" and not among the rare ones. (See Ch. 39, n. 355.) 355. passages in a book Niedermeyer, in Blumer, ed., p. 122: According to Niedermeyer, "precipitation of epileptic seizures by reading is very rare," but has been reported. Among the even rarer seizure triggers listed by Niedermeyer are language, decision-making, playing chess, music, eating, movement, tapping, and other auditory sensations. 356. Vivid dreams Persinger, pp. 1258-1259: Persinger lists the typical characteristics of what he calls "soft" -- that is, mid-range severity -- temporal lobe disorder: "early morning highs (0200 to 0400 hr.), déjà-vu experiences, vibration sensations before sleeping, 'waves of energy permeating the body,' recurrent vivid dreams, intense meaningfulness after reading material about unusual or unexpected situations, feelings of unreality (depersonalization), peaceful or quiescent episodes of diffuse concentration, memory blanks, experiencing the presence of other beings, the special personal significance of chance events, and the distortions in serial order of events." 357. rejection by loved ones Ferguson and Rayport, in Blumer, ed., Psychiatric Aspects of Epilepsy, pp. 246-248: Ferguson and Rayport limn a category of "exogenous factors" and define them this way: "Exogenous factors include environmental pressures, such as persistent, derogatory, and re¬jecting attitudes of important others in the patient's environment, and other emotional events affecting the patient." 358. derogation by strangers Ferguson and Rayport, in Blumer, ed., Psychiatric Aspects of Epilepsy, pp. 246-248. (See Ch. 39, n. 357.) 359. ambushes of memoryBolwig, in Trimble and Bolwig, eds., pp. 4-5: The second of Bolwig's subgroups of cognitive symptomology is "impaired memory function" (see Ch. 39, n. 348): "The impairment of memory functions is quite frequently in the form of illusions of memory. These phenomena can either be déjà vu (the feeling of having seen persons or objects earlier), déjà entendu (the feeling of having heard something not previously heard), and déjà vécu (the feeling of having lived through an experience not actually experienced before). The opposite, in the form of jamais vu, jamais entendu or jamais vécu, are also typical dysmnesic seizure phenomena. They are contrasting as they represent illusions of familiarity and strangeness, respectively." Persinger lists two specific forms of memory dislocations associated with temporal-limbic disruptions: "infantile memories of parental images" and "images from before four to five years of age and memories for which there are no retrieval formats" (Persinger, p. 1258). Bear describes the primary effects of neuronal dissynchronicity in the temporal-limbic area as the disruption of "memory formation and emotional arousal" (Bear, in Trimble and Bolwig, eds., p. 20). While he is speaking of the ictal event, the seizure, itself, not the interictal symptomology, the line between these two groups of phenomena is not bright. 360. "intense meaningfulness" Persinger, pp. 1258-1259. 361. religious thoughts Ferguson and Rayport, in Blumer, ed., Psychiatric Aspects of Epilepsy, pp. 246-248: "Psychosocial factors may be essential in the precipitation of acute psychosis once disruption by seizure activity has occurred. The similarity between seizure phenomena and psychotic phenomena is evident. The role of religiosity should also be noted in these case histories. Religious experiences were present in the reality situation and in conscious seizure experiences; they were incorporated into the psychosis and later into interictal [between-seizure] thinking." 362. metaphysical musings Bolwig, in Trimble and Bolwig, eds., pp. 4-5. (See Ch. 39, n. 348.) Bear, Freeman, and Greenberg identify the "parallel elements" of interictal behavior as "deepened emotions, changes in sexual function, aggressivity, development of nascent religious or philosophic interests, circumstantiality, and interpersonal viscosity" (Bear, Freeman, and Greenberg, in Blumer, ed., p. 198). On his list of similar "themes" of temporal lobe function, Persinger includes thoughts about "a universal source of God" (Persinger, p. 1258). 363. "It can hardly be" BVG T9, 5/21/1889.

Context:
BVG T9, 5/21/1889: "We hear with pleasure that your trip to St. Rémy was accomplished without a hitch, and that your stay there will not last very long, for it can hardly be pleasant to be near so many lunatics."
JLB 774, 5/21/1889: "We were pleased to learn that your journey to St-Rémy went well, and that you feel calmer there than in Arles. All the same, I hope that your stay will only be for a short length of time, for having these mad people as your neighbours can't be agreeable."

364. reduced the frequency No letters at all from Theo to Vincent survive from roughly mid-June to mid-July, the month during which Vincent's spirits spiraled toward another breakdown. 365. the extra cost BVG T9, 5/21/1889: The thrust of Theo's questions, intended or not, is clearly this: "Am I getting my money's worth?" This is the second time in a few weeks that Theo asks these questions. Vincent clearly received the message. In his response, he described the benefits he received at the asylum (twice-a-week baths, etc.) and added guiltily, "I think I'll spend less here than elsewhere, since here I still have work on my plate, for nature is beautiful" (JLB 776, 5/23/1889). In a letter from August, Theo sends one passage in the "code" of Dutch, presumably so as not to be intercepted by asylum censors: "Are the doctor and the other staff good to you? Is a distinction made between the various patients, and does this depend on what they pay? When one's concerned one imagines things to be different and worse than they are." (JLB 794, 8/4/1889.)

To understand just how relentlessly Theo sought to trim the expenses of Vincent's care, one only has to look at the correspondence between him and Reverend Salles. The latter's accountings to Theo of his disbursements suggests the level at which Theo scrutinized every debit. For example, Salles reports settling Vincent's bill at the Arles hospital but withholding the customary gratuities from hospital interns: "I have paid to the bursar ["économe la solde"] what was due him (20.45f) for the pension of your brother, but I did not find it necessary to offer anything to the caretakers who took care of him at the hospital." (b1053 V/1962, "Salles, Frederic" to "Gogh, Theo van", 6/5/1889.) In the same letter, Salles accounts for the expenses relating to the trip Salles and Vincent took to Saint-Rémy in early May: "I received from you 100f in all (50f of the 200 sent at the time of the departure for St. Rémy and 50f with your last letter). Of this amount I have only spent 7f for the voyage by your brother and me to St. Rémy and the 20f.45 of the note included herein, for a total of 27f .45. I therefore still have 72.55 of yours." (ibid.)

Context:
JLB 774, 5/21/1889: "Tell us in your next letter what the establishment you're now in is like. How are you treated, is the food sufficient, and how are the people with whom you have to deal? Do you see something of the country?"

764 366. "In the course of time" BVG T9, 5/21/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 367.)

Context:
BVG T9, 5/21/1889: "Now there is in your canvases a vigour which one certainly does not find in the chromos; in the course of time they will become very beautiful by reason of the settling of the layers of paint and they will undoubtedly be appreciated someday."
JLB 774, 5/21/1889: "Now in your canvases there's a vigour which one certainly doesn't find in chromos, in time that will become very fine as impasto, and certainly they'll be appreciated one day."

367. "very curious" JLB 774, 5/21/1889: We have slightly altered JLB's translation. The letter Theo writes upon receipt of Vincent's huge shipment of paintings from the Yellow House opens with this grand accolade: "there are some superb things in it," and then immediately lists seven "favorites": "The Berceuse, the portrait of Roulin, the little sower, with the tree, the baby, the starry night, the sunflowers and the chair with the pipe and the tobacco" (JLB 774, 5/21/1889). But the bulk of the letter is preoccupied with only two of these, La Berceuse (four versions: La Berceuse (Augustine Roulin) [F 504 JH 1655], Madame Roulin Rocking the Cradle (La Berceuse) [F 506 JH 1670], La Berceuse (Augustine Roulin) [F 507 JH 1672], and La Berceuse (Augustine Roulin) [F 508 JH 1671]) and the portrait of Roulin (Portrait of the Postman Joseph Roulin [F 433 JH 1524]): "The first two, in particular, are most curious. Certainly it's not the beautiful that is taught there, but there's something in them that's so striking and so close to the truth. Who tells us that we're more right than the simple people who buy images in loud colours? Or rather, isn't the charm they see in them as much a sensation evoked as when pretentious people look at the paintings in museums? Now in your canvases there's a vigour which one certainly doesn't find in chromos, in time that will become very fine as impasto, and certainly they'll be appreciated one day." (ibid.)

Theo's straining to put a positive gloss on these pictures -- and his patronizing appropriation of Vincent's tropes in order to do so -- is painfully obvious and probably was so to Vincent. After this, Theo never gets around to saying why he liked the other five "favorites" and says nothing more about the remaining canvases or the consignment in general. Of special note is the ever-receding promise of eventual appreciation -- the cheapest form of reassurance (i.e., carefully not suggesting current salability). Theo could have just right-out lied about his reaction, but seems to feel the need not to stray too far from the truth -- perhaps out of integrity or perhaps out of a suspicion that Vincent might not credit unambiguous praise. Theo remains silent about Vincent's work until a month later, in mid-June, when he says vaguely: "your latest paintings have given me a great deal to think about as regards your state of mind when you made them" (JLB 781, 6/16/1889). The only illumination of this comment he provides is this: "There are moments which one feels well, but when it's so difficult to take account of what has taken shape in thought and what is still in a vague state" (ibid.). Basically, this translates as, "I couldn't figure out how to say something positive about your paintings; so I avoided saying anything. Now that you have forced the issue; I can't delay any longer, so here goes. If it doesn't come off as positive, then it's your fault."

Context:
JLB 774, 5/21/1889: "The Berceuse, the portrait of Roulin, the little sower, with the tree, the baby, the starry night, the sunflowers and the chair with the pipe and the tobacco are the ones I like best up to now. The first two, in particular, are most curious."

368. "vigorous" BVG T9, 5/21/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 367.) A month later, Theo applies the same term to Vincent's color, again using it to convey a non-compliment compliment: "your latest paintings have given me a great deal to think about as regards your state of mind when you made them. All of them have a power of colour which you hadn't attained before, which in itself is a rare quality." (JLB 781, 6/16/1889.) Rare? Certainly. Good? Theo refuses to say. It seems to be impossible for Theo, even with Vincent in an asylum, to swallow his equivocations and give his brother an unadulterated, unqualified blast of fraternal support -- i.e., "These are great, Vincent; I love them all; you've never done anything better, etc." While it is possible that Theo didn't believe Vincent would credit unalloyed praise, Theo was certainly qualified to make such praise sound persuasive, as he did regarding both Gauguin's and Monet's works.

This leads one to suspect that other dynamics lay behind Theo's grudging support at this critical juncture in Vincent's life. Perhaps he was crippled by his parents' habit of equivocation when it came to his brother (in a way not applicable to Gauguin or Monet). Perhaps also Theo harbored a streak of genuine anger and resentment toward Vincent -- a feeling that he, Vincent, had wasted opportunities and brought shame and suffering to the family with his willful, selfish behavior over the years, and, now, was complicating Theo's final lunge for happiness in the same way he had darkened their father's final years. Only two months later, in late July, after a spell of ill health, the announcement that Jo was pregnant, and a long worrisome silence from Vincent, does Theo issue -- too late -- the blast of unqualified praise that he had so long withheld: "I received your last consignment in perfect condition, and find it extremely beautiful. ... in most of these canvases I find more clarity of expression and such a beautiful ensemble. The Undergrowth with the trees surrounded with ivy [A Corner in the Garden of Saint-Paul Hospital (F 609 JH 1693)], the Lane in Arles [Red Chestnuts in the Public Park at Arles (F 517 JH 1689)] and the Fields with the gardens in springtime [Orchard in Blossom with View of Arles (F 516 JH 1685) and/or View of Arles with Trees in Blossom (F 515 JH 1683)] are really beautiful. ... They make a fine display in the frame ... marvellously beautiful." (JLB 793, 7/29/1889.)

Context:
BVG T9, 5/21/1889: "Now there is in your canvases a vigour which one certainly does not find in the chromos; in the course of time they will become very beautiful by reason of the settling of the layers of paint and they will undoubtedly be appreciated someday."
JLB 774, 5/21/1889: "Now in your canvases there's a vigour which one certainly doesn't find in chromos, in time that will become very fine as impasto, and certainly they'll be appreciated one day."

369. "glaring" BVG T9, 5/21/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 367.)

Context:
BVG T9, 5/21/1889: "Certainly there is none of the beauty which is taught officially in them, but they have something so striking and so near to truth. Who can tell whether we are more in the right than the simple people who buy pictures with glaring colours?"
JLB 774, 5/21/1889: "Certainly it's not the beautiful that is taught there, but there's something in them that's so striking and so close to the truth. Who tells us that we're more right than the simple people who buy images in loud colours?"

370. "tortured the form" BVG T10, 6/16/1889: We have altered the translation slightly.

Context:
BVG T10, 6/16/1889: "In all of them there is a vigour in the colours which you have not achieved before -- this in itself constitutes a rare quality -- but you have gone further than that, and if there are some who try to find the symbolic by torturing the form, I find this in many of your canvases, namely in the expression of the epitome of your thoughts on nature and living creatures, which you feel to be so strongly inherent in them."
JLB 781, 6/16/1889: "All of them have a power of colour which you hadn't attained before, which in itself is a rare quality, but you have gone further, and if there are people who occupy themselves seeking the symbol by dint of torturing the form, I find it in many of your canvases through the expression of the summary of your thoughts on nature and living beings, which you feel are so strongly attached to it"

371. "Your last pictures" BVG T10, 6/16/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 367.) We have combined elements from both translations.

Context:
BVG T10, 6/16/1889: "I am also not sure of being able to write you in the way I should like to today, but my letter will be sent off anyway, if only to let you know that we think of you often, and that your last pictures have given me much food for thought on the state of your mind at the time you did them. In all of them there is a vigour in the colours which you have not achieved before -- this in itself constitutes a rare quality -- but you have gone further than that, and if there are some who try to find the symbolic by torturing the form, I find this in many of your canvases, namely in the expression of the epitome of your thoughts on nature and living creatures, which you feel to be so strongly inherent in them. But how your brain must have laboured, and how you have risked everything to the very limit, where vertigo is inevitable!"
JLB 781, 6/16/1889: "So I'm not sure of being able to write to you as I wanted today, but my letter will leave all the same, if only to tell you that we often think of you and that your latest paintings have given me a great deal to think about as regards your state of mind when you made them. All of them have a power of colour which you hadn't attained before, which in itself is a rare quality, but you have gone further, and if there are people who occupy themselves seeking the symbol by dint of torturing the form, I find it in many of your canvases through the expression of the summary of your thoughts on nature and living beings, which you feel are so strongly attached to it. But how hard your mind must have worked and how you endangered yourself to the extreme point where vertigo is inevitable."

372. "Dear Brother" BVG T8, 5/8/1889: Nothing in the text should be read in a way to question the sincerity of Jo's outreach. The full paragraph reveals her sincerity and her tender concern very clearly.

Context:
BVG T8, 5/8/1889: " Dear Brother, It is high time at last that your new little sister had a chat with you herself, instead of leaving it to Theo to send her regards. When we were not yet married I was always thinking, Oh, at present you haven't yet got the courage to write about everything to Vincent, but now that we are really and truly brother and sister, and I should be so very happy if you knew me a little too, and, if possible, loved me a little."
JLB 771, 5/8/1889: " Dearest brother, It's high time that your new little sister came to chat with you and didn't always just let Theo convey her regards. When we weren't married yet I always thought: Well, I don't really dare to write to Vincent about everything yet, but now we really have become brother and sister, and I would so much like you to know me a little and, if possible, love me a little."

373. "Madame Van Gogh" BVG T8, 5/8/1889. "We get along very well together -- we've already been married three weeks today -- it seems to me a long and short time ago -- and nothing, nothing is strange to us any more -- just as if we've always been together. The worst thing though is that I don't yet look anything like a married lady -- yesterday I went to pay our baker and the man simply wouldn't understand that I was Madame van Gogh and kept calling me Mademoiselle, it's really too bad! ... I must see about lunch because Theo will be home in a few minutes -- so I'll say goodbye to you for today -- I hope that I haven't bored you too much -- but of late I've got so used to writing to both Breda and Amsterdam about all those little things that they so like to know." (JLB 771, 5/8/1889.)

Note how, completely unintentionally, this sweet story had the potential to hit all of Vincent's emotional hot buttons: (1) She has Theo, Vincent does not; (2) Theo and she have a house, Vincent does not; (3) Theo is in Paris, Vincent is not; (4) Theo is married, Vincent is not; (5) Theo has friends, Vincent does not; (6) Theo and she have a family (Vincent's family, in Breda), Vincent does not; (7) Theo has a job, Vincent does not. The overall message, of course, is that she has taken Vincent's place in Theo's life. This panoramic insensitivity suggests to us that Theo had kept Jo more or less in the dark about the cauldron of sensitivity and neuroses that Jo faced in writing Vincent. Not that Theo's letters are always sensitive to his brother's medical condition. To be fair, under the circumstances, it's not clear how Jo could have written a letter that did not hit Vincent's emotional buttons. Note, however, that she does not ask anything about Vincent, his art, his health, etc. She does not express an intent to meet him or regret that he missed the wedding, or affirm Theo's love for him. She does not invite him to Paris or even suggest that she hopes such a time will come. There is no detectable warmth behind these pleasantries. True or not, we believe that Vincent would have interpreted these early letters from Jo along with Theo's descriptions of her to suggest that she was shallow, frivolous, and solipsistic.

Context:
BVG T8, 5/8/1889: "What is worst is that I don't at all look like a married lady yet -- yesterday I went to pay our baker, and the good man could not possibly understand that I myself was Madame Van Gogh, and persisted in calling me mademoiselle, which is really something too frightful!"
JLB 771, 5/8/1889: "The worst thing though is that I don't yet look anything like a married lady -- yesterday I went to pay our baker and the man simply wouldn't understand that I was Madame van Gogh and kept calling me Mademoiselle, it's really too bad!"

374. "It's as if" BVG T8, 5/8/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 373.)

Context:
BVG T8, 5/8/1889: "For the rest we are getting along very well together -- we have been married three weeks today -- it seems to me as though it happened long ago and also only a short while ago -- it doesn't seem the tiniest little bit strange to us -- it's as if we had always been together."
JLB 771, 5/8/1889: "Apart from that we get along very well together -- we've already been married three weeks today -- it seems to me a long and short time ago -- and nothing, nothing is strange to us any more -- just as if we've always been together."

375. "He always comes home" BVG T11, 7/5/1889. Jo lightly raps Vincent's knuckles for suggesting in a recent letter to Theo that she was less than diligent in her wifely duty to provide Theo with meals at home (or that Theo was less than diligent in his husbandly duty to come home for meals): "In one of your recent letters you asked Theo if he was still dining at the restaurant? Not at all -- never -- what's the good of being married if one couldn't even dine at home? He always comes for lunch at midday and comes home at seven-thirty for dinner." (JLB 786, 7/5/1889.) 376. Company BVG T8, 5/8/1889. Two months later (July 5, 1889), Jo writes again: "Often in the evening someone comes. [Joseph Jacob] Isaacson or [Ferdinand Hart] Nibbrig -- Mr. Tersteeg has dined with us twice, [Meijer] De Haan has also come to see us -- and when he was there Mr. [Camille] Pissarro and his son [Lucien] came too." (JLB 786, 7/5/1889.)

Context:
JLB 771, 5/8/1889: "A great many of Theo's acquaintances have already come to see us in the evenings -- yesterday evening, for instance, was a whole reunion -- Pissarro and his son, Isaacson and young Nibbrig (but I don't know whether you know him) and my brother -- who's been coming to eat with us for some time now because his wife's gone to Holland."

377. including family members BVG T8, 5/8/1889.

Context:
JLB 771, 5/8/1889: "Lies and Wil have a little plan to come here together this summer, how I'd like that, particularly having Wil here for a time -- how she'd laugh at me -- for she's such a clever little housekeeper herself."

378. "so pleasant and cozy" BVG T8, 5/8/1889.

Context:
BVG T8, 5/8/1889: "It is so delightful on Sundays when Theo is at home all day; I well remember how as a child I always loved Sundays, because at home they were so pleasant and cozy (something which most people could not understand), and now they are much more so."
JLB 771, 5/8/1889: "It's so wonderful when Theo's home for the whole day on Sundays -- I remember that I always loved Sundays so much as a child because they were always so very cosy and pleasant at home -- (something that most people couldn't understand) but now even more."

379. "enjoy ourselves" BVG T8, 5/8/1889: Jo is actually referring to a holiday (for art dealers), not a Sunday, but she compares the holiday as similar, in this way, to a Sunday. (See Ch. 39, n. 380.) We have altered the translation slightly.

Context:
BVG T8, 5/8/1889: "So Monday meant a double festivity for me, for all the art shops were closed on account of the opening of the exhibition -- of course we did not go to the exhibition, but enjoyed ourselves in our own way."
JLB 771, 5/8/1889: "So Monday it was a double treat for me when all the businesses were closed for the opening of the exhibition -- naturally we did not go to the exhibition but amused ourselves in our own way" (emphasis in original).

380. hints of conjugal intimacies BVG T8, 5/8/1889: In her letters to Vincent, Jo does seem oddly determined to describe both the bedroom that she and Theo occupied and, by implication of greater or lesser subtlety, what went on in it. In her first letter, she describes the room: "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). Elsewhere in the same letter, Jo describes the delights of staying home with Theo on Sundays: "It's so wonderful when Theo's home for the whole day on Sundays -- I remember that I always loved Sundays so much as a child because they were always so very cosy and pleasant at home -- (something that most people couldn't understand) but now even more. " (ibid.) On other days when Theo did not work or they did not go to exhibitions, they could enjoy themselves in the same intimate way. On one particular Monday, when "all the businesses were closed for the opening of the [Universal] exhibition -- naturally we did not go to the exhibition but amused ourselves in our own way" (ibid.; emphasis in original). Jo looked forward to such days as "a double treat for me" (ibid.).

Context:
JLB 771, 5/8/1889: "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."

381. "In general we" BVG T11, 7/5/1889.

Context:
BVG T11, 7/5/1889: " In general we are very tired at night, and we go to bed early, but notwithstanding this I think Theo is looking far from well, but that [Pierre-Étienne] Sacrétan [sic] sale caused him a lot of fatigue, and besides, the heat is so overwhelming!"
JLB 786, 7/5/1889: " Generally we're very tired in the evening and we go to bed early -- however I find that Theo is looking not at all well, but he has been caused a great deal of fatigue by that Secretan sale, and then the heat is so unbearable!"

382. "hardly a day ever" BVG T8, 5/8/1889. We have altered the translation slightly.

Context:
BVG T8, 5/8/1889: "As for me, this has been the case for quite a long time … Wil as well as Theo have told me so many things about you, and here in the house there are so many things which remind one of you; at the moment I come across a charming little jug or vase or some such thing, I am sure to hear, This was bought by Vincent, that Vincent thought so pretty. Hardly ever a day passes without our speaking of you."
JLB 771, 5/8/1889: "For my part -- it's been the case for a long time -- I've heard so much about you, both from Wil and from Theo -- and here in the house there are masses of things that are reminders of you, when I find a nice little jug or a vase or something, then it's always: Vincent bought that or V. liked that so much -- scarcely a day passes when we don't speak of you" (emphasis in original).

383. "Why are so many" BVG W13, 7/2/1889: We have inferred this question from Vincent's answer.

Context:
BVG W13, 7/2/1889: "If you say in your letter that, as you observe so many other people who try to make their way in life, they seem to be making more progress -- coming and going -- than you -- oh well, what shall I say to that? I myself occasionally have a feeling of stupefaction when I look at my own life, and for that matter at the lives of so many other workers in my profession."
JLB 785, 7/2/1889: "If you say in your letter that when you see so many others in life who come and go, seeking their own path, appearing to you perhaps to be making more headway than you, what can I tell you, that I too sometimes have a feeling of stupefaction in the face of my own life, and as regards several other lives of workers in my profession besides."

384. "fatal malady" BVG W12, 6/16/1889: Wil picked up on Vincent's earlier discussion of Dr. Rey's mischievous theory (see Ch. 38, n. 282) that love was the product of a bacillus. To this, Vincent responds with a long, patronizing (and ultimately unconvincing) extension of the conceit: "you asked me if, still supposing that love is a bacillus (which I myself am not in a position to state or prove, please don't lose sight of that), I think that you asked me if there are people who would have the said bacillus and others who wouldn't have it, or if on the contrary it was a fatal and universal illness. On that point, too, I'm rather unqualified to form a clearly well-founded opinion. But I consider it probable that if a person, yourself say, is convinced she didn't have it, it would perhaps be wise for such a person to have herself inoculated with the said bacillus according to the Pasteur or some other method. Joking apart, I believe that a man or woman inevitably has to be in love with something, and that the only precaution one can take would be to fall in love in such and such a way and not in another one, according to one's ideas. ... Besides, I'd almost think that women take the offensive in these matters; that the wise ones among them, or rather those who have the most correct and sure instinct, don't wait to be loved in order to love themselves -- which -- and I'm inclined to believe for good reasons -- would appear to be the essential thing to them. Anyway, it could very well be that by being inoculated with the attenuated bacillus, of the well-chosen virus and in the correct dose, one would be better protected from contagion. If one doesn't yet have the illness one doesn't prevent oneself perhaps getting it, while when one has it one can no longer catch it."

Context:
BVG W12, 6/16/1889: "Now I think you asked me whether always supposing that love is a bacillus, which I am unable to affirm or to prove, a fact I request you please not to lose sight of, I think you asked me whether there are persons who have said bacillus, and others who do not, or whether on the contrary it is a fatal and universal malady."
JLB 780, 6/16/1889: "Now I think you asked me if, still supposing that love is a bacillus (which I myself am not in a position to state or prove, please don't lose sight of that), I think that you asked me if there are people who would have the said bacillus and others who wouldn't have it, or if on the contrary it was a fatal and universal illness."

385. "regular life" BVG W13, 7/2/1889: This, at least, was the phrasing Vincent attached to Wil's question in his response.

Context:
BVG W13, 7/2/1889: "But all thoughts of a regular life, all thoughts of being able to evoke in ourselves or in others gentle ideas or sensations -- all this must of necessity appear purely utopian to us."
JLB 785, 7/2/1889: "But any idea of a regular life, any idea of awakening in ourselves or in others gentle ideas or sensations, all of this must necessarily appear pure utopia to us."

386. "a sweet and very devoted" BVG W13, 7/2/1889.

Context:
BVG W13, 7/2/1889: "The moral of the story is that under certain circumstances a gentleman prefers ultimately to live with a sweet and very devoted wife and his child, rather than to live in the restaurants and cafés of the boulevards, a life he had led before without committing too many excesses. This is undoubtedly very nice."
JLB 785, 7/2/1889: "The moral of it is that in some cases a gentleman ends up preferring to live with a nice, devoted wife and his child, to the life of the restaurant, boulevard and café which he had previously led without too much excess. That's undoubtedly very pleasant."

387. Vincent derisively summarized BVG W13, 7/2/1889.

Context:
JLB 785, 7/2/1889: "I thank you and Lies for the [Édouard] Rod book which I've finished and which I'll return to you soon. The terrible title, Le sens de la vie, terrified me a little, but as it's happily scarcely spoken of in this volume, I was quite content to read something which has a family resemblance to Souvestre's Le philosophe sous les toits or with Monsieur, madame et bébé by Droz. The moral of it is that in some cases a gentleman ends up preferring to live with a nice, devoted wife and his child, to the life of the restaurant, boulevard and café which he had previously led without too much excess. That's undoubtedly very pleasant."

765 388. "boundless admiration" BVG W14, 9/19/1889.

Context:
BVG W14, 9/19/1889: "For I often paint things like that -- as insignificant and as dramatic as a dusty blade of grass by the roadside -- and consequently it seems to me that it is only right that I should have a boundless admiration for de Goncourt, Zola, Flaubert, Maupassant, [Joris-Karl] Huysmans."
JLB 804, 9/19/1889: "Because I sometimes paint things like that -- with as little and as much drama as a dusty blade of grass by the side of the road -- it's right, as it seems to me, that I should have an unbounded admiration for De Goncourt, Zola, Flaubert, Maupassant, Huysmans."

389. "The author finds" BVG 596, 6/25/1889: We have slightly reordered Bonger's translation.

Context:
BVG 596, 6/25/1889: " It certainly is not very cheering. I think the author must be suffering a good deal from his lungs and consequently a little from everything. Anyway, he admits that he finds consolation in the companionship of his wife, which is all to the good, but after all, for my own use he teaches me nothing about the meaning of life, whatever is meant by it."
JLB 783, 6/25/1889: " Above all it's not very cheering. The author, it seems to me, must have a lot of trouble with his lungs. And consequently a little with everything. Anyway, he admits that he finds solace in the company of his wife, which is very well observed, but anyway, for my own use he teaches me absolutely nothing whatsoever about the meaning of life."

390. abstracted BVG W13, 7/2/1889: Vincent admits that Shakespeare (William Shakespeare, 1564-1616; English playwright) was, for him, a challenging read. Yet in a letter to Theo written the same day, he suggests that the difficulty did not prevent him from identifying with Shakespeare's characters and dilemmas: "But what touches me in it, as in the work of certain novelists of our time, is that the voices of these people, which in Shakespeare's case reach us from a distance of several centuries, don't appear unknown to us. It's so alive that one thinks one knows them and sees it." (JLB 784, 7/2/1889.)

Context:
JLB 785, 7/2/1889: "I'm quite absorbed in reading the Shakespeare that Theo sent me here, where at last I'll have the calm necessary to do a little more difficult reading."

391. the history plays BVG 595, 6/17/1889-6/18/1889. In mid-June, Vincent wrote Theo: "What I'd very much like to have here to read from time to time would be a Shakespeare," and gave him instructions on how to find the appropriate edition (JLB 782, 6/18/1889). In early July, he thanks Theo for fulfilling his request and has already begun reading at a speedy pace: "I thank you also very cordially for the Shakespeare. It will help me not to forget the little English I know -- but above all it's so beautiful. I've begun to read the series I know the least well, which before, being distracted by something else or not having the time it was impossible for me to read, the series of the kings. I've already read Richard II, Henry IV and half of Henry V." (JLB 784, 7/2/1889.) Vincent says of Shakespeare (presumably before reading the plays he names): "what touches me in it, as in the work of certain novelists of our time, is that the voices of these people, which in Shakespeare's case reach us from a distance of several centuries, don't appear unknown to us. It's so alive that one thinks one knows them and sees it." (ibid.)

Context:
JLB 782, 6/18/1889: "What I'd very much like to have here to read from time to time would be a Shakespeare. There's one priced at one shilling, Dicks' Shilling Shakespeare, which is complete. There's no shortage of editions, and I think the cheap ones have been changed less than the more expensive ones. In any case I wouldn't want one that cost more than three francs." (Emphasis in original.)

392. not yet explored BVG W13, 7/2/1889. Vincent calls these historical dramas "the most unfamiliar to me" (JLB 785, 7/2/1889). The best known? "Have you ever read King Lear?" he asks Wil (ibid.).

Context:
JLB 785, 7/2/1889: "I'm quite absorbed in reading the Shakespeare that Theo sent me here, where at last I'll have the calm necessary to do a little more difficult reading. I've first taken the kings series, of which I've already read Richard II, Henry IV, Henry Vincent and a part of Henry VI -- as these dramas were the most unfamiliar to me."

393. Richard II BVG 597, 7/2/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 391.)

Context:
JLB 784, 7/2/1889: "I've begun to read the series I know the least well, which before, being distracted by something else or not having the time it was impossible for me to read, the series of the kings. I've already read Richard II, Henry IV and half of Henry V."

394. Henry VI BVG W13, 7/2/1889: Vincent adds this to his list in early July.

Context:
JLB 785, 7/2/1889: "I'm quite absorbed in reading the Shakespeare that Theo sent me here, where at last I'll have the calm necessary to do a little more difficult reading. I've first taken the kings series, of which I've already read Richard II, Henry IV, Henry Vincent and a part of Henry VI -- as these dramas were the most unfamiliar to me."

395. "With the number" BVG 595, 6/17/1889-6/18/1889.

Context:
BVG 595, 6/17/1889-6/18/1889: "But with the number of precautions I am now taking, I am not likely to relapse, and I hope that the attacks will not begin again."
JLB 782, 6/18/1889: "But with all the precautions I'm now taking, it will be difficult for me to relapse, and I hope that the attacks won't start again."

396. pledges of hard work Vincent makes this point repeatedly, starting only days after his arrival at the asylum: "The idea of my duty to work comes back to me a lot, and I believe that all my faculties for work will come back to me quite quickly. It's just that work often absorbs me so much that I think I'll always be absent-minded and awkward in getting by for the rest of life too." (JLB 772, 5/9/1889.) Of course, comments like the latter brought expressions of concern from Theo that Vincent might be working too hard: "Above all, don't wear yourself out, for it's better that at present you do all you can to regain your strength. The work will come afterwards." (JLB 774, 5/21/1889.) But Vincent was undeterred. He harshly criticized both his fellow patients and southerners in general for their "absolute idleness," calling it "the great defect of the south, and its ruin" (JLB 777, 5/31/1889-6/6/1889). (See also JLB 780, 6/16/1889.) In early June, he seems to confirm Theo's concern with reports of "pining for work a little" (JLB 779, 6/9/1889) and being "bored to death at times after work, and yet I have no desire to begin again" (ibid.). But by the middle of the month, he is back to claiming that the work "occupies and distracts me -- which I need very much -- far from wearing me out" (JLB 782, 6/18/1889). Theo is not convinced, however. In September, after the series of attacks in August, he once again tries to temper Vincent's ardor for work: "When you speak of overcoming your illness through work, old chap you've never done anything else, and so you have no need to move for that. On the contrary, I think that the only thing that can cure you is that you don't try to do anything more than fortify your body, and the dark thoughts will go away when you have a bit more blood in your body. I'm afraid when you work furiously like that, for you're bound to wear yourself out." (JLB 802, 9/18/1889.) 397. flowers BVG 593, 6/2/1889.

Context:
JLB 777, 5/31/1889-6/6/1889: "Since it's just the season when there are lots of flowers and thus colour effects, it will perhaps be wise to send me another 5 metres of canvas in addition."

398. elaborate schemes BVG 597, 7/2/1889: The most obvious (and fantastical) of these schemes is Vincent's plan to reestablish contact with Alexander Reid, who worked with Theo (and stayed briefly in the rue Lepic apartment) when Vincent was living with his brother in Paris (see Chapter 27). Vincent writes in early July, "How I think of Reid as I read Shakespeare, and how I've thought of him several times when I was iller than at present. Finding that I'd been infinitely too harsh and perhaps discouraging towards him in claiming that it was better to love painters than paintings." (JLB 784, 7/2/1889.)

First, he makes an elaborate apology for the supposed cause of Reid's estrangement (in fact, it was due to Vincent's abrasive personality and annoying habits, not a disagreement over the duty of dealers to support artists rather than art). Then, he reaches out with his art, telling Theo that "I have a canvas of cypresses with a few ears of wheat, poppies, a blue sky, which is like a multicoloured Scottish plaid. This one, which is impasted like the Monticellis, and the wheatfield with the sun that represents extreme heat, also thickly impasted, I think that this would explain to him more or less, however, that he couldn't lose much by being our friend. But that's true on our side too, and precisely because we were perhaps right to disapprove of his method we ought on our side to take a step towards reconciliation." (ibid.) This is clearly a bid for Theo to offer the described painting to the Scotsman (who also admired Monticelli) for purchase or consignment, or just as a token of rapprochement (ibid.).

Vincent says that he would write Reid himself but fears "saying too many foolish things" -- an uncharacteristic demurral that probably indicates how delusional this scheme was (ibid.). Reid had not been mentioned by either brother since a year earlier when Theo reported that he had "disappeared," to which Vincent replied, "at times he used to speak so often of making himself a painter, and of retiring to live with an aunt in the country, that it's just possible that he's carrying out this plan now" (JLB 644, 7/17/1888-7/20/1888). In this sense, Reid was as much a ghost of the painful past as Vincent's pastor father. If, as Vincent claims, he thought about Reid while in the hospital in Arles (i.e., "while I was worse than I am now"), it was undoubtedly out of guilt for all the people he had driven out of Theo's life with his strange, alienating behavior.

Context:
JLB 784, 7/2/1889: "I have a canvas of cypresses with a few ears of wheat, poppies, a blue sky, which is like a multicoloured Scottish plaid. This one, which is impasted like the Monticellis, and the wheatfield with the sun that represents extreme heat, also thickly impasted, I think that this would explain to him more or less, however, that he couldn't lose much by being our friend. But that's true on our side too, and precisely because we were perhaps right to disapprove of his method we ought on our side to take a step towards reconciliation." (Emphasis in original.)

399. and Holland BVG 597, 7/2/1889: Vincent imagines that by marrying Jo somehow Theo's fortunes in the Dutch art market (that is, relations with Tersteeg) will be resurrected: "having married a Dutchwoman, that could in a few years, sooner or later, warm up business relations with Amsterdam or The Hague again" (JLB 784, 7/2/1889).

Context:
JLB 784, 7/2/1889: "At the same time, having married a Dutchwoman, that could in a few years, sooner or later, warm up business relations with Amsterdam or The Hague again."

400. country girl With all his correspondents, Vincent hammers on the fact that Jo is a Dutch girl. In a letter to John Peter Russell (1858-1930; Australian artist) from January 1890, for example, he writes: "May it go well -- he has a very nice Dutch wife" (JLB 849, 2/1/1890). 401. him in Dutch BVG T8, 5/8/1889: Jo writes: "I just wish that I spoke rather better French -- I can manage on my own, doing the shopping and with the charwoman, but carrying on a conversation, and particularly when Theo's there -- I find that awful. I haven't dared try to write a letter in French either -- even though I actually knew that you'd prefer it." Jo uses as an excuse that Vincent's sister Wil wrote him in Dutch (ibid.). Vincent's rejects this excuse immediately by starting to write his sister in French (JLB 780, 6/16/1889). 402. "I dare say" BVG W13, 7/2/1889: Even Vincent's comments to Jo are similarly reserved: "Thanking you again for writing to me, and being very happy to know that now my brother doesn't return to an empty apartment when he comes home in the evening" (JLB 772, 5/9/1889). To Theo he writes only, "It's a great consolation for me to know that you're no longer living alone" (JLB 779, 6/9/1889). He expresses the same minimal approval to Wil: "It's a great consolation for me to know that he no longer lives alone" (JLB 780, 6/16/1889). Vincent focuses almost exclusively on the domestic benefit of Theo having a wife to cook for him. He writes Wil, "I believe his wife to be wise and loving enough to take lots of care of him and to see that he doesn't just eat restaurant food, but that he gets back to Dutch cooking. Dutch cooking is good, and so let her turn herself into something of a cook, let her take on a reassuring outer appearance, even if it's a little rough." (JLB 785, 7/2/1889; emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG W13, 7/2/1889: "And besides, I dare say she will have found the means to make life a bit more pleasant for him than it has been up to now. For he has been through hard times."
JLB 785, 7/2/1889: "And afterwards, I dare also hope, she'll have found lots of ways to make his life a little more pleasant than was the case before. For he has seen hard times."

403. private jokes BVG 591, 5/10/1889-5/15/1889: This passage in a letter to Jo was clearly intended for Theo's ears. Vincent does not intend for Jo to get his true meaning: i.e., that there really is not much difference between beasts (like the cab horse) and people (like Jo). The butt of the joke is Jo's "civilization." Vincent is having more fun at her expense.

Context:
JLB 772, 5/9/1889: "Have you noticed yet that the old cab-horses there have big, beautiful heartbroken eyes, like Christians sometimes. Whatever the case, we're not savages nor peasants, and we perhaps even have a duty to love civilization (so-called)." (Emphasis in original.)

404. insider art talk BVG 591, 5/10/1889-5/15/1889. As part of his "lesson" in the beauties of Paris of which Jo knows nothing, Vincent invokes some of the great artists for whom he and Theo have long shared admiration: "Certainly Millet, whom you'll learn to like a lot, and with him many others, have tried to get out of Paris. But Eugène Delacroix, for example, it's difficult to portray him 'as a man' other than as a Parisian." (JLB 772, 5/9/1889; emphasis in original.) Note the gentle but pointed reminder that Jo is still "learning to like" giants such as Millet. "For [Theo] and for me," Vincent says, in contradistinction, "Paris is certainly already a cemetery in a way, where many artists have perished, whom we knew directly or indirectly" (ibid.). 405. paeans to Paris BVG 591, 5/10/1889-5/15/1889: Vincent begins his response to Jo's complaints about Paris with this arch question: "Could it not be the case that in liking a thing one sees it better and more accurately than in not liking it" (JLB 772, 5/9/1889). He reminds her condescendingly "that there are homes in Paris, and not just apartments," and gently mocks her (for Theo's ears, not hers) with a plea to see Paris through the rose-colored glasses of Voltaire's Father Pangloss: "my sister, if you can believe, or almost, that everything is always for the best in the best of worlds then you'll also be able to believe, perhaps, that Paris is the best of the towns in it" (ibid.; emphasis in original). Later, in the same letter, he levels a more serious indictment: that those who do not like Paris cannot truly like art, thus slyly impugning her love for Theo: "if you don't like Paris, above all do not like painting nor those who directly or indirectly are engaged in it, for it's only too doubtful whether that's beautiful or useful" (ibid.).

Context:
JLB 772, 5/9/1889: "All this to urge you -- with all caution, admittedly -- to believe in the possibility that there are homes in Paris, and not just apartments" (emphasis in original).

406. knew Jo disliked BVG T8, 5/8/1889. The only good thing she can say about Paris that it is "flowering beautifully": "if I had to name something good about P., that would be one of the first things!" (JLB 771, 5/8/1889). Vincent answers: "Thanks very much for your letter, in which I above all looked for news of my brother. ... I can see that you have already observed that he loves Paris and that this surprises you a little, you who don't like it, or rather who above all like the flowers there, such as, I suppose, for example, the wisterias which are probably beginning to flower." (JLB 772, 5/9/1889.) Clearly, Vincent is only interested in Jo as an extension of Theo and is not at all surprised that she admires Paris only for its flowers -- the obvious reaction of a country girl from Holland, which only confirms his opinion of her.

Context:
JLB 771, 5/8/1889: "Paris did look lovely that day -- I do so hope that I'll grow to love it as Theo does -- but sometimes I'm afraid that it won't be the case -- it's so busy and chaotic."

407. his special place BVG W13, 7/2/1889. A good hint of Vincent's attitude toward Theo's marriage comes in a letter to Wil from early July: "I, who have neither wife nor child, I need to see the wheatfields, and it would be difficult for me to exist in a town for long. So, knowing his [Theo's] character, I'm optimistic that his marriage will do him an enormous amount of good. Before we can form an idea of his health we must allow them a little time to take root within each other." (JLB 785, 7/2/1889.) This is Vincent's summary of the benefits of Theo's marriage: it is good for Theo's well-being. The formulation deliberately excludes everything having to do with Theo's soul. The marriage is entirely about his physical well-being -- about eating well, etc., avoiding solitude and unhygienic behavior. But for his soul, Theo will continue to need Vincent. That is the significance of "see[ing] the wheat fields." With this vague allusion, Vincent is saying that only he, not Jo, can keep Theo in touch with nature -- the "nature" of their shared childhood -- that is essential to his spiritual well-being. This is a theme that Vincent will develop at length after the attacks in July and August. 408. "plucky and brisk" BVG W19, 1/20/1890. This is Vincent's characterization of Theo's descriptions of Jo, whom Vincent had not yet met: "And from what [Theo] writes to me, Jo is so brave and so lively" (JLB 841, 1/20/1890). This, of course, fits perfectly with Vincent's unflattering image of Jo as a typical Dutch girl lacking in subtlety and refinement.

Context:
BVG W19, 1/20/1890: "And Jo, according to what he writes me, is so plucky and brisk."
JLB 841, 1/20/1890: "And from what he writes to me, Jo is so brave and so lively."

409. "good women" BVG 596, 6/25/1889.

Context:
BVG 596, 6/25/1889: "It seems that this book has made a great impression on our good sisters. At least, Wil had mentioned it to me, but good women and books are two different things."
JLB 783, 6/25/1889: "It appears that this book has made a great impression on our good sisters. Wil had moreover spoken to me of it, but the little women and books are two different things."

410. sneered to Theo Sund, p. 226: Sund lucidly discusses Vincent's condescending attitude toward his sister Wil's literary preferences. 766 411. "We have to resign" BVG W13, 7/2/1889.

Context:
BVG W13, 7/2/1889: "Alas, we often get out of breath and faith, which is certainly the wrong thing to do -- but there, now we return to our starting point: if we nevertheless want to go on working, we have to resign ourselves to the obstinate callousness of the times and to our isolation, which is sometimes as hard to endure as living in exile. And so we have to expect, after the years that, relatively speaking, we lost, poverty, sickness, old age, madness and always exile."
JLB 785, 7/2/1889: "Alas, we often lack breath and faith, wrongly certainly but -- and here we come back to the point -- if, however, we want to work we must submit both to the stubborn harshness of the time and to our isolation, which is sometimes as hard to bear as exile. Now before us, after our years which have thus been lost, relatively speaking, poverty, illness, old age, madness and always exile."

412. "mighty" BVG 596, 6/25/1889.

Context:
BVG 596, 6/25/1889: "I have re-read with much pleasure Zadig ou la destinée by Voltaire. It is like Candide. Here the mighty author gives at least a glimpse of the possibility that life may have some meaning, though it is agreed in conversation that things in this world do not always go as the wisest wish!"
JLB 783, 6/25/1889: "I've re-read Voltaire's Zadig ou la destinée with much pleasure. It's like Candide. There, at least, the powerful author makes one glimpse that it's still possible that life has a meaning, 'although one agreed in conversation that the things of this world did not always go according to the wisest people's liking.'"

413. "at least gives" BVG 596, 6/25/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 412.)

Context:
BVG 596, 6/25/1889: "I have re-read with much pleasure Zadig ou la destinée by Voltaire. It is like Candide. Here the mighty author gives at least a glimpse of the possibility that life may have some meaning, though it is agreed in conversation that things in this world do not always go as the wisest wish!"
JLB 783, 6/25/1889: "I've re-read Voltaire's Zadig ou la destinée with much pleasure. It's like Candide. There, at least, the powerful author makes one glimpse that it's still possible that life has a meaning, 'although one agreed in conversation that the things of this world did not always go according to the wisest people's liking.'"

414. "I have not seen" BVG 597, 7/2/1889.

Context:
JLB 784, 7/2/1889: "Anyway, once again I haven't seen a letter from Mother indicating so much inner serenity and calm contentment as this one -- not for many years. And I'm sure that this comes from your marriage. It's said that pleasing one's parents brings a long life."

415. to the Berceuse BVG 592, 5/22/1889: Vincent responds to a comment from Theo that he at least perceives as a compliment (but see Ch. 39, n. 367).

Context:
JLB 776, 5/23/1889: "What you say about the Berceuse gives me pleasure; it's very true that the common people, who buy themselves chromos and listen with sentimentality to barrel organs, are vaguely in the right and perhaps more sincere than certain men-about-town who go to the Salon."

416. thoughts drifted BVG 595, 6/17/1889-6/18/1889: This is another instance where Theo may have inadvertently pushed his brother in the direction of dangerous imagery. As early as April, he sent Vincent "several issues of Le Fifre with drawings by [Jean Louis] Forain" (JLB 754, 4/4/1889). Vincent does not specify the images but Forain was a friend of poets Paul Verlaine and Arthur Rimbaud as well as painters like Degas and Manet. He had exhibited with the Impressionists repeatedly but was primarily known as an illustrator for his witty and biting depictions of Parisian women, which is probably the imagery that Theo sent. After seeing them, Vincent reports: "[They] had the effect on me that what I manufacture becomes very sentimental in comparison" (ibid.). In a letter a month later, just after Vincent moved to the asylum, Theo mentioned another peripheral Impressionist best known for his depictions of figures from Paris street life, Jean-Francois Raffaelli. He praises them to Vincent: "I find him strongest when he paints these people who have come down in the world" (JLB 770, 5/8/1889). These two cues may not have ignited the return of Vincent's interest in figures, but they certainly licensed him to think past the project of landscapes and flowers he originally set out on (to please Theo) when he arrived in Saint-Rémy. By mid-June, he was lamenting the lack of figures in the countryside (JLB 780, 6/16/1889) and despairing over his failure to secure models (JLB 782, 6/18/1889).

Context:
JLB 782, 6/18/1889: "I despair of ever finding models. Ah, if I had some from time to time like that one, or like the woman who posed for the Berceuse, I'd do something quite different."

417. "If I had someone" BVG 595, 6/17/1889-6/18/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 417.) We have altered the translation slightly.

Context:
BVG 595, 6/17/1889-6/18/1889: "Ah, if now and then I had someone like that or like the woman who posed for 'La Berceuse,' I'd do something very different yet."
JLB 782, 6/18/1889: "Ah, if I had some from time to time like that one, or like the woman who posed for the Berceuse, I'd do something quite different."

418. human beings BVG 602, 9/3/1889-9/4/1889.

Context:
BVG 602, 9/3/1889-9/4/1889: "All this goes -- along with the 'Portrait of [Carel] Fabritius' in Rotterdam, the 'Traveler' of the Lacaze Gallery -- into a special category in which the portrait of a human being is transformed into something luminous and comforting."
JLB 798, 9/2/1889: "All this goes with the Rotterdam portrait of Fabritius, the traveller in the La Caze gallery, into a special category in which the portrait of a human being is transformed into something luminous and consoling."

419. "transformed into something" BVG 602, 9/3/1889-9/4/1889.

Context:
BVG 602, 9/3/1889-9/4/1889: "… into a special category in which the portrait of a human being is transformed into something luminous and comforting."
JLB 798, 9/2/1889: "… into a special category in which the portrait of a human being is transformed into something luminous and consoling."

420. "serene and pure" BVG 595, 6/17/1889-6/18/1889.

Context:
BVG 595, 6/17/1889-6/18/1889: "One would try to paint human beings who are also more serene and pure than [Honoré] Daumier had before his eyes, but following Daumier, of course, in the drawing."
JLB 782, 6/18/1889: "One might try to paint human beings who are also more serene and purer than Daumier had before him. But of course following Daumier in the drawing of it."

421. Daumier's drawings BVG 595, 6/17/1889-6/18/1889.

Context:
JLB 782, 6/18/1889: "One might try to paint human beings who are also more serene and purer than Daumier had before him. But of course following Daumier in the drawing of it."

422. Zola's novels BVG 597, 7/2/1889. Vincent's remark that his first painting of the reaper in June (Wheat Field with Reaper and Sun [F 617 JH 1753]; see Ch. 39, n. 506) would be "something like the Sower" of the previous year, immediately triggers an association with Zola (probably via his book La terre [1887], which Vincent reported reading the previous summer [JLB 663, 8/18/1888]): "As later the books of Zola will remain beautiful precisely because they have life." 423. Shakespeare's plays BVG 597, 7/2/1889: Vincent's renewed interest in Shakespeare corresponds, and perhaps was triggered by, his renewed interest in figures. All his praise of Shakespeare seems focused on the characters, not the lofty themes or inward insights: "What touches me in it, as in the work of certain novelists of our time, is that the voices of these people, which in Shakespeare's case reach us from a distance of several centuries, don't appear unknown to us. It's so alive that one thinks one knows them and sees it." (JLB 784, 7/2/1889; emphasis added.)

Context:
JLB 784, 7/2/1889: "But what touches me in it, as in the work of certain novelists of our time, is that the voices of these people, which in Shakespeare's case reach us from a distance of several centuries, don't appear unknown to us. It's so alive that one thinks one knows them and sees it."

424. "What has life" BVG 597, 7/2/1889.

Context:
BVG 597, 7/2/1889: " What has life in it too is that Mother is glad that you are married, and I think that this cannot be unpleasant to yourselves, you and Jo."
JLB 784, 7/2/1889: " What also has life is the fact that Mother is happy that you're married, and I think that this cannot be disagreeable to yourselves, you and Jo."

425. a painting of the enclosed field Wheat Field with Reaper and Sun, F 617 JH 1753, Late June, 1889, oil on canvas, 38.4 x 36.2 in., 72 x 92 cm., Kröller-Müller Museum, Otterlo. 426. "Aren't we" BVG W13, 7/2/1889.

Context:
BVG W13, 7/2/1889: "The history of those plants is like our own; for aren't we, who live on bread, to a considerable extent like wheat, at least aren't we forced to submit to growing like a plant without the power to move, by which I mean in what way our imagination impels us, and to being reaped when we are ripe, like the same wheat? "
JLB 785, 7/2/1889: "Their story is ours, for we who live on bread, are we not ourselves wheat to a considerable extent, at least ought we not to submit to growing, powerless to move, like a plant, relative to what our imagination sometimes desires, and to be reaped when we are ripe, as it is?"

427. "the rear end" BVG 588, 4/30/1889.

Context:
BVG 588, 4/30/1889: "And anyway, we are falling back again in the name of optimism on a religion that strikes me as the rear end of some sort of Buddhism."JLB 765, 4/30/1889: "And what's more, under the name of optimism we fall back into a religion which to me has the look of being the rear end of a kind of Buddhism."

428. "prove that something very different" BVG 595, 6/17/1889-6/18/1889: Vincent approaches the subject of religion obliquely, via literature, here suggesting in a vague parallel that one can hold dear both earthy thoughts and infinite thoughts.

Context:
BVG 595, 6/17/1889-6/18/1889: "Perhaps even while reading Zola, we are moved by the sound of the pure French of Renan, for instance. And after all, while the Chat noir draws us women after its fashion and Forain in a fashion that's masterly, we do some of our own, and being less Parisian but no less fond of Paris and its graces, we try to prove that something very different exists as well."
JLB 782, 6/18/1889: "Perhaps, while reading Zola, we are moved by the sound of the pure French of Renan, for example. And after all, while Le Chat Noir draws women for us after its own fashion, and above all Forain does so in a masterly way, we do some of our own, less Parisian but no less fond of Paris and its elegances, we try to prove that something else quite different exists."

429. "the other side of life" BVG 597, 7/2/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 445.)

Context:
BVG 597, 7/2/1889: "It is just in learning to suffer without complaint, in learning to look on pain without repugnance, that you risk vertigo, and yet it is possible, yet you may even catch a glimpse of a vague likelihood that on the other side of life we shall see good reason for the existence of pain, which seen from here sometimes so fills the whole horizon that it takes on the proportions of a hopeless deluge."
JLB 784, 7/2/1889: "It is precisely in learning to suffer without complaining, learning to consider pain without repugnance, that one risks vertigo a little; and yet it might be possible, yet one glimpses even a vague probability that on the other side of life we'll glimpse justifications for pain, which seen from here sometimes takes up the whole horizon so much that it takes on the despairing proportions of a deluge."

430. "to give consolation" BVG 595, 6/17/1889-6/18/1889: Vincent disguises this unmistakably religious claim as a comment on avant-garde art in general, not just as a personal (i.e., inner, spiritual) mandate.

Context:
BVG 595, 6/17/1889-6/18/1889: "Gauguin, Bernard and I may stop at that point perhaps and not conquer, but neither shall we be conquered; perhaps we exist neither for the one thing nor for the other, but to give consolation or to prepare the way for a painting that will give even greater consolation."
JLB 782, 6/18/1889: "Gauguin, Bernard or I will all remain there perhaps, and won't overcome but neither will we be overcome. We're perhaps not there for one thing or the other, being there to console or to prepare for more consolatory painting."

767 431. "not a return" BVG 595, 6/17/1889-6/18/1889. Note how the passage supports the opening disavowal of religious overtones by veering into old tropes about " trompe-l'oeil precision" (JLB 782, 6/18/1889). It also invokes Delacroix, the ultimate Romantic painter, even as it disavows romanticism.

Context:
BVG 595, 6/17/1889-6/18/1889: "When you have looked at these two studies for some time, and that of the ivy as well, it will perhaps give you some idea, better than words could, of the things that Gauguin and Bernard and I sometimes used to talk about, and which we've thought about a good deal; it is not a return to the romantic or to religious ideas, no. Nevertheless, by going the way of Delacroix, more than is apparent, by colour and a more spontaneous drawing than delusive precision, one could express the purer nature of a countryside compared with the suburbs and cabarets of Paris."
JLB 782, 6/18/1889: "When you've seen these two studies for a while, as well as the one of the ivy, I'll perhaps be able to give you, better than in words, an idea of the things Gauguin, Bernard and I sometimes chatted about and that preoccupied us. It's not a return to the romantic or to religious ideas, no. However, by going the way of Delacroix, more than it seems, by colour and a more determined drawing than trompe-l'oeil precision, one might express a country nature that is purer than the suburbs, the bars of Paris."

432. Theo's unthinking praise BVG T10, 6/16/1889. Theo went on to praise especially the color scheme of "blue, green and violet," concluding "an exquisite unity and harmony" (JLB 781, 6/16/1889).

Context:
JLB 781, 6/16/1889: "The other day a Rembrandt sketch was sold in a public sale, I would like you to have seen it, it was the figure of the Angel Gabriel standing, which is in the sky of his etching of the annunciation to the shepherds. What a marvel!"

433. Delacroix "Pietà" BVG 590, 5/3/1889: Vincent had this print on the wall of his bedroom in Arles. That he brought it with him to Saint-Rémy is confirmed in September when he reports that the print was the victim of an unexplained studio accident during one of his attacks: "Thus this time during my illness a misfortune happened to me -- that lithograph of Delacroix, the Pietà, with other sheets had fallen into some oil and paint and got spoiled. I was sad about it." (JLB 801, 9/10/1889.) Thereafter, Vincent did a painting after the print (The Pietà (after Delacroix) [F 630 JH 1775]) (JLB 804, 9/19/1889).

Context:
JLB 768, 5/3/1889: “(In my room I have the famous portrait of a man (the wood engraving) that you know, a mandarin woman by Monorou [Hishigava Moronobou, 1618-1694; Japanese artist] (the large print from the Bing [Siegfried Bing, 1838-1905; dealer in oriental art in Paris] album), the blade of grass (from the same album), the Pietà and the good Samaritan by Delacroix, and Meissonier's reader, then two large reed pen drawings.)” 

(According to JBL: “‘Monorou’ must refer to the double page Portrait of Ousoukoumo [‘Bright Clouds’] ... The caption reads ‘Kakémono. School of Moronobou. End of 17th century. Engraved and printed by Gillot’ [Kakémono. – École de Moronobou. Fin du xviie siècle. Grav. Impr. par Gillot]. The engraver is probably Eugène Louis Gillot Ill. ... This Kakémono was done by Ando Kaïghetsudo, a pupil of Hishigava Moronobou. Van Gogh misspelled the name of the artist and speaks of ‘une mandarine’, a non-existent feminine form of ‘mandarin’ [a Chinese official].” [ibid., n. 19.])

434. Rembrandt Bible scenes Theo's praise of the Rembrandt angel (see Ch. 39, n. 432) prompts this loaded response from Vincent: "I'd very much have liked to see that Rembrandt painting you spoke about in your last letter. In the old days I saw in [Gaston] Braun's window a photo after a painting which must be from the fine late period (probably in the Hermitage series), in it there were large figures of angels, it was Abraham's meal. 5 figures I think. That too was extraordinary. As touching as The pilgrims at Emmaus, for example. If ever there were a question of giving something to Mr. Salles for the trouble he has gone to -- later one should give him Rembrandt's Pilgrims." (JLB 783, 6/25/1889.) In his next letter, Vincent meditates even more deeply on Rembrandt images he recalls seeing: "So what Rembrandt alone, or almost alone, has among painters, that tenderness in the gazes of human beings we see either in the Pilgrims at Emmaus, or in the Jewish bride, or in some strange figure of an angel as in the painting you had the good fortune to see -- that heartbroken tenderness, that glimpse of a superhuman infinite which appears so natural then, one encounters it in many places in Shakespeare." (JLB 784, 7/2/1889.) 435. Rembrandt's mysterious See Ch. 39, n. 434. 436. Shakespeare's flawed BVG 597, 7/2/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 434.)

Context:
JLB 784, 7/2/1889: "… that heartbroken tenderness, that glimpse of a superhuman infinite which appears so natural then, one encounters it in many places in Shakespeare."

437. "that heartbroken tenderness" BVG 597, 7/2/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 434.)

Context:
BVG 597, 7/2/1889: "And so what Rembrandt has alone or almost alone among painters, that tenderness of gaze which we see, whether it's in the 'Men of Emmaus' or in the 'Jewish Bride' or in some such strange angelic figure as the picture you have had the good fortune to see, that heartbroken tenderness, that glimpse of a super-human infinitude that seems so natural there …."
JLB 784, 7/2/1889: "So what Rembrandt alone, or almost alone, has among painters, that tenderness in the gazes of human beings we see either in the Pilgrims at Emmaus, or in the Jewish bride, or in some strange figure of an angel as in the painting you had the good fortune to see -- that heartbroken tenderness, that glimpse of a superhuman infinite ..."

438. led inexorably BVG 605, 9/7/1889-9/8/1889. Vincent admits this explicitly later in September after the attacks of the summer: "The emotions that [religious imagery] causes are too strong though, I wouldn't survive it" (JLB 120, 6/12/1877).

Context:
JLB 801, 9/10/1889: "The emotions that that causes are too strong though, I wouldn't survive it -- but later, later, I don't say that I won't mount a fresh attack."

439. Education of the Virgin BVG T10, 6/16/1889.

Context:
JLB 781, 6/16/1889: "Think of the still lifes and of the flowers Delacroix did when he went to the country to stay with G. [George] Sand. It's true that afterwards he had a reaction by doing the Education of the Virgin, and that's not to say that in doing as I tell you you won't make a masterpiece afterwards."

440. "I think it" BVG W11, 4/30/1889.

Context:
BVG W11, 4/30/1889: "However this may be, I think it very brave of you, Sister, not to shrink from this Gethsamane."
JLB 764, 4/28/1889-5/2/1889: "Whatever the case, you're very brave, my sister, not to recoil before these Gethsemanes."

441. testing that sacred ground BVG 605, 9/7/1889-9/8/1889. Later, in September 1889, Vincent reports about Delacroix (whose depictions of Christ had long haunted his imagination and his religious longings) that "when he does a Gethsemane, [he] went to see on the spot beforehand what an olive grove was like" (JLB 801, 9/10/1889).

Context:
JLB 801, 9/10/1889: "And then do you know why the paintings of E. Delacroix -- the religious and historical paintings, Christ's barque -- the Pietà, the Crusaders, have this allure? Because E. Delacroix, when he does a Gethsemane, went to see on the spot beforehand what an olive grove was like, and the same for the sea whipped up by a hard mistral, and because he must have said to himself, these people whom history talks to us about, doges of Venice, crusaders, apostles, holy women, were of the same type and lived in a manner analogous to those of their present-day descendants.”

442. olive groves around the asylum BVG 605, 9/7/1889-9/8/1889. Some months later (in September 1889), Vincent reports doing "olive trees behind their little farmhouse" belonging to his asylum attendant Charles-Elzéard Trabuc and his wife Jeanne Trabuc-Lafuye (JLB 801, 9/10/1889).

Context:
JLB 801, 9/10/1889: "I spoke with her from time to time when I was doing olive trees behind their little farmhouse, and then she told me that she didn't think that I was ill -- anyway, you would say that too at present if you saw me working, with my thoughts clear and my fingers so sure that I drew that Delacroix Pietà without taking a single measurement, though there are those four outstretched hands and arms -- gestures and bodily postures that aren't exactly easy or simple.”

443. again and again There are four surviving images of olive groves from around this time: Olive Trees with the Alpilles in the Background (F 712 JH 1740), Olive Grove (F 585 JH 1758), Olive Grove (F 715 JH 1759), and Olive Grove: Bright Blue Sky (F 709 JH 1760). Vincent revisited the subject in a series of paintings in the fall and winter of 1889 (Olive Trees [F 711 JH 1791], Olive Grove with Picking Figures [F 587 JH 1853], Olive Grove: Orange Sky [F 586 JH 1854], Olive Grove: Pale Blue Sky [F 708 JH 1855], Olive Trees with Yellow Sky and Sun [F 710 JH 1856], Olive Grove [F 707 JH 1857], Olive Trees: Bright Blue Sky [F 714 JH 1858], and Olive Picking [F 654 JH 1868], Olive Picking [F 655 JH 1869], and Olive Picking [F 656 JH 1870]). 444. "too beautiful" BVG 587, 4/25/1889-4/28/1889. "[T]he murmur of an olive grove has something very intimate, immensely old about it. It's too beautiful for me to dare paint it or be able to form an idea of it. ... But the olive tree is something else, it is, if you want to compare it to something, like Delacroix." (JLB 763, 4/28/1889.) Delacroix, of course, was the artist who painted the depictions the indelible images of Christ that stayed in Vincent's imagination and guided his few, failed attempts to paint Christ's image, in particular, Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane, a scene set in an olive grove (see Chapter 31).

Context:
BVG 587, 4/25/1889-4/28/1889: "It is like the pollard willows of our Dutch meadows or the oak bushes of our dunes, that is to say the rustle of an olive grove has something very secret in it, and immensely old. It is too beautiful for us to dare to paint it or be able to imagine it."
JLB 763, 4/28/1889: "It's like the lopped willows of our Dutch meadows or the oak bushes of our dunes, that's to say the murmur of an olive grove has something very intimate, immensely old about it. It's too beautiful for me to dare paint it or be able to form an idea of it."

445. "risk vertigo" BVG 597, 7/2/1889: Note how the passage is fraught with religious overtones without being explicitly religious. The reference to "suffering without complaint" echoes the mantra of Vincent's long enthrallment to religion in general and the figure of Christ in particular: "Sorrowful yet always rejoicing" (JLB 784, 7/2/1889). Here the term "vertigo" -- first introduced by Theo (see Ch. 39, n. 371) as a metaphorical corollary of Vincent's epilepsy (and as a way to avoid suggesting that Vincent was truly insane) -- becomes, in Vincent's hands, a spiritual manifestation: the manifestation of a Christ-like state.

Context:
BVG 597, 7/2/1889: "It is just in learning to suffer without complaint, in learning to look on pain without repugnance, that you risk vertigo, and yet it is possible, yet you may even catch a glimpse of a vague likelihood that on the other side of life we shall see good reason for the existence of pain, which seen from here sometimes so fills the whole horizon that it takes on the proportions of a hopeless deluge."
JLB 784, 7/2/1889: "It is precisely in learning to suffer without complaining, learning to consider pain without repugnance, that one risks vertigo a little; and yet it might be possible, yet one glimpses even a vague probability that on the other side of life we'll glimpse justifications for pain, which seen from here sometimes takes up the whole horizon so much that it takes on the despairing proportions of a deluge."

446. "a hopeless deluge" BVG 597, 7/2/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 445.)

Context:
BVG 597, 7/2/1889: "… on the other side of life we shall see good reason for the existence of pain, which seen from here sometimes so fills the whole horizon that it takes on the proportions of a hopeless deluge."
JLB 784, 7/2/1889: "… on the other side of life we'll glimpse justifications for pain, which seen from here sometimes takes up the whole horizon so much that it takes on the despairing proportions of a deluge."

447. "The mere sight" BVG 594, 6/9/1889.

Context:
BVG 594, 6/9/1889: "I went once, still accompanied, to the village; the mere sight of people and things had such an effect on me that I thought I was going to faint and I felt very ill. Face to face with nature it is the feeling for work that supports me. But anyway, this is to show you that there must have been within me some too powerful emotion to upset me like that, and I have no idea what can have caused it."
JLB 779, 6/9/1889: "I once went into the village -- accompanied, at that. The mere sight of the people and things had an effect on me as if I was going to faint, and I felt very ill. In the face of nature it's the feeling for work that keeps me going. But anyway, that's to tell you that there must have been some over-strong emotion inside me that brought that about, and I have no idea what could have caused it."

448. came to Peyron on July 6 BVG 599, 7/6/1889.

Context:
JLB 787, 7/6/1889: "I'm going to Arles tomorrow to fetch the canvases that are still over there ... This morning I talked a little with the doctor here ... He offered to take my furniture here so that we don't have double expenses. Tomorrow I'll go and talk about that in Arles with M. Salles."

449. bringing his furniture BVG 599, 7/6/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 448.)

Context:
JLB 787, 7/6/1889: "Then he offered to take my furniture here so that we don't have double expenses. Tomorrow I'll go and talk about that in Arles with M. Salles."

450. "I must wait" BVG 599, 7/6/1889. In his report to Theo, Vincent is evasive about who initiated the new plan to extend his stay in the asylum from a few months to a full year. There is no evidence to support Vincent's claim that he had already come to the same conclusion as Peyron about the longer stay. Surely, he would have mentioned this possibility to Theo earlier if it had crossed his mind seriously. The inference is unavoidable that the change of plan was a spontaneous act, with elements of both despair and retribution, prompted by the letter he had received that morning with news of Jo's pregnancy. Peyron, who was mindful of revenues as well as expenses, had no reason to object -- if, indeed, the subject was raised at all.

Context:
BVG 599, 7/6/1889: "This morning I talked a little with the doctor here -- he told me exactly what I already thought -- that I must wait a year before thinking myself cured, since the least little thing might bring on another attack."
JLB 787, 7/6/1889: "This morning I talked a little with the doctor here -- he told me -- which was absolutely what I had already thought -- that one must wait a year before believing oneself to be cured, since the smallest thing could bring on another attack."

768 451. "little things" BVG B21, 11/20/1889.

Context:
BVG B21, 11/20/1889: "All year I was doing little things after nature, without giving a thought to impressionism or whatever else."
JLB 822, 11/26/1889: "And the whole year, have fiddled around from life, hardly thinking of Impressionism or of this or that."

452. "My dear brother" BVG T11, 7/5/1889.

Context:
BVG T11, 7/5/1889: " My dear brother, … I am now going to tell you a great piece of news, on which we have concentrated a good deal of our attention lately -- it is that next winter, toward February probably, we hope to have a baby, a pretty little boy -- whom we are going to call Vincent, if you will consent to be his godfather."
JLB 786, 7/5/1889: " My dear brother, … I'm going to begin by telling you a great piece of news which has greatly occupied us lately -- it is that this winter, around February probably, we're hoping to have a baby, a pretty little boy -- whom we'll call Vincent if you'll consent to be his godfather."

453. in French BVG T11, 7/5/1889: Jo apologizes in advance (even before announcement) for her French.

Context:
JLB 786, 7/5/1889: "This time I'll try to write to you in French, first I know that you like it more, and then with both of us expressing ourselves in the same language we'll eventually understand each other better, I believe. Only I'm not at all accustomed to writing in French, and I fear I may make mistakes which will seem very ridiculous to you -- but I'm going to do my best."

454. "I am now going" BVG T11, 7/5/1889.

Context:
BVG T11, 7/5/1889: "My dear brother, … I am now going to tell you a great piece of news, on which we have concentrated a good deal of our attention lately -- it is that next winter, toward February probably, we hope to have a baby, a pretty little boy -- whom we are going to call Vincent, if you will consent to be his godfather."
JLB 786, 7/5/1889: "My dear brother, … I'm going to begin by telling you a great piece of news which has greatly occupied us lately -- it is that this winter, around February probably, we're hoping to have a baby, a pretty little boy -- whom we'll call Vincent if you'll consent to be his godfather."

455. "Dear brother and sister" BVG 599, 7/6/1889.

Context:
JLB 787, 7/6/1889: "Dear brother and sister."

456. "I congratulate you" BVG 599, 7/6/1889.

Context:
BVG 599, 7/6/1889: "Jo's letter told me a very great piece of news this morning. I congratulate you on it and I am very glad to hear it. I was much touched by your thought when you said that neither of you being in such good health as seems desirable on such an occasion, you felt a sort of doubt, and in any case that a feeling of pity for the child who is to come passed through your heart."
JLB 787, 7/6/1889: "Jo's letter tells me a very great piece of news this morning, I congratulate you on it, and am very pleased to hear it. I was very touched by your reasoning when you say that as neither of you are in as good health as appears desirable on an occasion like this, you had a kind of doubt, and in any case a feeling of pity for the child to come traversed your soul."

457. "feeble health" BVG 599, 7/6/1889: Vincent's notion of consoling Jo is to assure her that Theo's health and his own are very similar -- an association that could hardly have been comforting given Vincent's circumstances at the time. The same statement also served as a veiled admission of the health problem that he shared with Theo, but about which Jo was apparently still unaware, namely syphilis.

Context:
BVG 599, 7/6/1889: "As for what you say about Theo's health, although, my dear sister, I share your anxiety with all my heart, I must comfort you, just because I have realized that his health is, like mine too, more changeable and uneven than feeble."
JLB 787, 7/6/1889: "As to what you say about Theo's health, my dear sister, while sharing your anxieties with all my heart I must nevertheless reassure you, precisely because I've seen that his health is changeable and uneven rather than weak, as is mine, for that matter."

458. crippling indebtedness BVG 599, 7/6/1889: Vincent must have felt the crippling burden of indebtedness strongly to have included it -- in excruciating detail -- in this congratulatory letter nominally addressed to both his brother and the sister-in-law he hadn't yet met.

Context:
JLB 787, 7/6/1889: "When I came here I left 50 francs with M. Salles to settle up with the hospital in Arles, he'll certainly have some over. But having again quite often needed various things, the surplus that M Peyron had here is exhausted. I'm a little surprised myself that in living with the greatest possible sobriety and regularity for the last 6 months, without having my independent studio, I'm not spending less or producing more than the previous, relatively less sober year."

459. feelings of remorse BVG 599, 7/6/1889: The inexplicably detailed discussion of his financial difficulties (see Ch. 39, n. 458) leads directly and inevitably into an abject confession of general culpability for mismanaging his life. The guilt is so overwhelming that he feels unworthy of acting as godfather to Theo and Jo's child: "As regards being godfather to a son of yours, while first of all it could be a girl, truly, in the circumstances I would prefer to wait until I'm no longer here. Then Mother would certainly set her heart a little on him being called after our father, I for one would find that more logical in the circumstances." (JLB 787, 7/6/1889.)

Context:
JLB 787, 7/6/1889: "I'm not spending less or producing more than the previous, relatively less sober year. And inwardly I feel neither more nor less remorse &c. if you like. Suffice to say that everything one calls good and bad is however quite relative, it seems to me. ... Only instead of paying money to a landlord we're giving it to the asylum, I don't see the difference -- and it's scarcely cheaper. The work is a thing apart, and has always cost me a lot."

460. longings for alcohol BVG 599, 7/6/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 474.)

Context:
JLB 787, 7/6/1889: "I live soberly here because I have the opportunity to. I drank before because I no longer knew how to do otherwise. Anyway it's all the same to me!!!"

461. companionship BVG 599, 7/6/1889. The implication of this statement for Vincent -- who claims to have the same "changeable and uneven" health as Theo (ibid.; see Ch. 39, n. 457) and yet is alone and abandoned in an asylum far from home or family -- is unmistakable (JLB 787, 7/6/1889).

Context:
JLB 787, 7/6/1889: "I'm very pleased that he's no longer alone, and truly I don't doubt that he'll regain his former temperament after a while."

462. fears of mortality BVG 599, 7/6/1889: Toward the end of an already disjointed letter, Vincent introduces this disturbing image. What is this talk of decadence, inevitable decay, and death doing in a "congratulatory" letter on the birth of a new child? (JLB 787, 7/6/1889). (See Ch. 39, n. 497.)

Context:
JLB 787, 7/6/1889: "Outside the cicadas are singing fit to burst, a strident cry ten times louder than that of the crickets, and the scorched grass is taking on beautiful tones of old gold. And the beautiful towns of the south are in the state of our dead towns along the Zuiderzee, which were formerly lively. While in the downfall and the decline of things, the cicadas dear to good old Socrates have remained. And here, certainly, they're still singing old Greek."

463. reverse his plan See Ch. 39, n. 450. 464. agreeing with Peyron See Ch. 39, n. 450. 465. to retrieve some paintings BVG 597, 7/2/1889: This is the only purpose for the trip to Arles that Vincent mentions until after news arrives of Jo's pregnancy. Only then does he introduce new justifications for his visit, including retrieving the furniture stored at the Ginouxs (Joseph and Marie) which only made sense in light of his new resolution to stay at the asylum for a long time: "Then [Peyron] offered to take my furniture here so that we don't have double expenses. Tomorrow I'll go and talk about that in Arles with M. Salles." (JLB 787, 7/6/1889.) We know this is a last-minute justification since Vincent found that Salles was not in Arles when he visited. If he had tried to make advance arrangements, he would have known this before leaving. In the same letter, Vincent repeats the earlier justification also: "I very much want to go and get them one of these days in order to send them to you" (JLB 784, 7/2/1889).

Context:
JLB 784, 7/2/1889: "I still have canvases in Arles that weren't dry when I left, I very much want to go and get them one of these days in order to send them to you. There are half a dozen of them."

466. laid no plans Vincent may have bought a linen suit for his trip to Arles but, paralyzed by guilt over his expenses at the time of Jo's announcement in July, did not report doing so until early October: "It's that during the stay here there have been a few expenses which I thought Mr. Peyron had notified you about as they occurred, which he told me the other day he hadn't done, with the result that it has mounted up to around 125 francs, ... It's for paint, canvas, frames and stretching frames, my trip the other day to Arles, a piece of linen clothing, and various repairs." (JLB 808, 10/5/1889.) He could have bought the suit after the trip to Arles in July and, presumably, after emerging from his month of attacks sometime in mid-August. 467. gone on a long vacation BVG 600, 7/9/1889. The "we" refers to Vincent and the asylum attendant, a man named Trabuc (see Chapter 37).

Context:
JLB 789, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "We went to M. Salles's house, who had gone away on holiday for two months, then to the hospital to see M. Rey, whom I didn't find either."

468. visit to the Hôtel Dieu BVG 600, 7/9/1889.

Context:
JLB 789, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "We went to M. Salles's house, who had gone away on holiday for two months, then to the hospital to see M. Rey, whom I didn't find either."

469. passed his examination BVG 600, 7/9/1889: When he returned, Vincent asked Theo if perhaps he had heard or seen Rey in Paris.

Context:
JLB 789, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "Someone told me that M. Rey had taken an examination and had been to Paris, but the porter at the hospital said he didn't know."

470. hospital porter BVG 600, 7/9/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 469.)

Context:
JLB 789, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "Someone told me that M. Rey had taken an examination and had been to Paris, but the porter at the hospital said he didn't know."

471. "former neighbors" BVG 600, 7/9/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 472.) It should be noted that no evidence points to the existence of any "former neighbours" (other than, perhaps, the Ginouxs) who were friendly to Vincent, and that he had used the same fiction many times previously with Theo. The only surviving evidence of what Vincent actually did on his Sunday in Arles is a letter from a local bookseller, dated July 16, acknowledging an order that Vincent had placed while in town (JLB 791, 7/16/1889). The title of the book he ordered is not mentioned.

Context:
BVG 600, 7/9/1889: "Then we spent the day with my former neighbors, such as my old charwoman and some others."
JLB 789, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "So we spent the day with my former neighbours, as well as my charwoman from those days and a few others."

472. did not see the Ginouxs This is an inference based on the fact that Vincent did not mention seeing either of the Ginouxs on this trip, despite having singled out the Ginouxs a year earlier as "extraordinary" (JLB 658, 8/9/1888) and specifically naming Madame Ginoux to Theo in January, at which time he enthusiastically drew his brother's attention to the portraits that he (and Gauguin) had painted of her (JLB, 741, 1/22/1889). In short, she was among the Arles residents whose name Theo would have recognized and Vincent had no reason to withhold it, especially in a letter in which he specifically mentions his former charwoman and lists by name all the people he missed seeing. Both Ginouxs were also known to Gauguin and therefore, probably, by another route, to Theo. Gastaut, for reasons unstated, assumes that Vincent saw both the Ginouxs and the prostitute Rachel (Gastaut, "Mémoires Originaux," p. 233; see Chapter 36). The text allows for the latter of these two possibilities. 473. asylum attendant BVG 600, 7/9/1889. Probably Jean-Francois Poulet.

Context:
JLB 789, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "The orderly from here accompanied me."

474. bliss of alcohol The evidence that Vincent drank on this excursion to Arles (and, indeed, drinking was one of the trip's primary motivations) is indirect but persuasive. First, he addresses the subject of drinking with odd elaborateness in his "congratulatory" letter to Jo and Theo on the eve of his trip. The tone is definitely one of complaint about not getting enough to drink (presumably, just the usual ration of wine with meals) and veiled threats to get more: "I live soberly here because I have the opportunity to. I drank before because I no longer knew how to do otherwise. Anyway it's all the same to me!!! Sobriety, very calculated it's true, nevertheless leads to a state of being in which thought, if you have any, flows more easily. Anyway it's a difference like painting grey or coloured. I'm in fact going to paint more greyly." (JLB 787, 7/6/1889.)

This is unclear -- perhaps intentionally so. Is Vincent associating drinking with painting in bright colors or gray tones? The words seem to point in one direction while common sense points in the other (i.e., drink muddies your thoughts and your colors). A few sentences later, he adds, "My health is good, though, and I have a feeling quite similar to the one I had when I was much younger, when I was also very sober, too much so, I believe they used to say. But it's all the same, I'll try to get by." (ibid.) The references to being " too much so" and "try[ing] to get by" can be read as a threat -- or at least a wish -- to drink more, while the multiple exclamation marks point to a return of the old volatility that is the opposite of the serenity (and sobriety) that Vincent has been professing since arriving at the asylum (ibid.). In a letter a few months later (October) to his sister Wil, Vincent further explains the relationship between drinking and his disease in a way that sounds like a confession of excessive drinking on his trip to Arles in July (the only real opportunity for excess since being admitted to the asylum): "So it isn't alcohol either that was the cause [of my illness], although of course it doesn't do one any good. But how difficult it is, how difficult it is to resume one's ordinary life without being absolutely too demoralized by the certainty of unhappiness. And one clings on to the affections of the past." (JLB 812, 10/21/1889.)

475. detached Peyron BVG 593, 6/2/1889. "The director [Peyron] had a few words with me to say that he'd received a letter from you, and that he'd written to you. To me he says nothing and I ask nothing of him, which is simplest. ... As the establishment is a little moribund, the man appears to take only a rather half-hearted enjoyment in this profession." (JLB 777, 5/31/1889-6/6/1889.) This is by no means the only sign of Peyron's lack of involvement with the patients in general and with Vincent's case in particular. As Vincent's letters make clear, his visits with the director were not regular, as other doctors took on the asylum's medical duties (JLB 790, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889). Sometimes a week passed between encounters with the director (JLB 800, 9/5/1889-9/6/1889), and Peyron was hardly prompt in notifying Theo of even urgent developments in Vincent's case (JLB 794, 8/4/1889) (although he wrote monthly [JLB 813, 10/22/1889], probably to accompany bills). Peyron was not readily available when Vincent needed him (JLB 833, 12/31/1889 or 1/1/1890), nor was he conscientious about keeping Vincent up to date on his opinion of Vincent's case (JLB 808, 10/5/1889). Specific requests from both brothers were delayed or even overlooked (JLB 835, 1/3/1890). After his series of attacks in July and August, Vincent reports Peyron's terse reaction: "To me he only said -- 'let's hope that it won't recur'" (JLB 800, 9/5/1889-9/6/1889). Not that Vincent was an inquisitive patient.

Tellingly, before Peyron's October visit to Paris, when he meets with Theo, Vincent advises his brother, "Don't speak too much about this to the doctor when you see him" (JLB 801, 9/10/1889). In the same letter, Vincent complains about Peyron being "evasive" but, at the same time, expresses gratitude for the director's loose hand at the helm: "He's very kind and very indulgent towards me, and whilst he isn't the absolute master here, far from it, I owe him many freedoms" (ibid.). This seems to be Vincent's final judgment about both Peyron and his institution: that it does virtually nothing for its patients: "The treatment of the patients in this hospital is certainly easy to follow, even on a journey, for they do absolutely nothing about it, they leave them to vegetate in idleness and feed them with stale and slightly spoiled food" (ibid.; emphasis in original). Peyron's own final evaluation of Vincent may show how little knowledge of his patient he had acquired in the year that Vincent spent at Saint Paul: "I do not believe that he gives himself over to any excess when he is at liberty, for I have always known him sober and reserved" (b1062 V/1962, ''Peyron, Th.'' to ''Gogh, Theo van'', 2/24/1890; quoted in Hulsker, p. 43).

Context:
JLB 777, 5/31/1889-6/6/1889: "As the establishment is a little moribund, the man appears to take only a rather half-hearted enjoyment in this profession, and besides there's reason enough for it."

476. noticed the change BVG T18, 10/4/1889. A few months later, in October, Peyron visited Theo in Paris and told him that Vincent's trip to Arles in early July had "brought on a crisis," which Theo then reported to Vincent (JLB 807, 10/4/1889). In order to preserve the possibility of returning to Arles, Vincent responded by casting doubt on the direct causal connection Peyron saw between the two events, but at the same time admitted their proximity and did not directly deny a causal connection: "I haven't dared ask [Peyron] to go to Arles one of these days, which I'd very much like to do, believing that he would disapprove. Not, though, that I suspected that he believed there was a connection between my previous trip and the crisis that closely followed it. The thing is that there are a few people over there whom I felt and once again feel the need to see again." (JLB 808, 10/5/1889.)

Context:
JLB 807, 10/4/1889: "He tells me that as your trip to Arles brought on a crisis one would have to see if you can now bear a change before changing residence. If you bear these ordeals well, he sees nothing against your leaving him."

477. cut Vincent's ration BVG 605, 9/7/1889-9/8/1889. This inference would make sense of Vincent's comment in September. Since we know that Vincent was given the usual ration of wine upon his admission to the asylum in May (see Ch. 39, n. 208), Peyron must have cut his ration of meat and wine prior to the attacks that began in mid-July. The logical time for this would have been when Vincent returned from Arles both having abused alcohol during his absence and being unusually agitated as a result. (See Ch. 39, n. 476.) According to Vincent, Peyron tried the opposite regimen -- giving Vincent wine and meat rather than withholding them -- after a later attack in August.

Context:
JLB 801, 9/10/1889: "And I'll tell you now that from the first day I refused to take this food, and until my crisis I ate nothing but bread and a little soup, which I'll continue to do as long as I remain here. It's true that after this crisis Mr. Peyron gave me some wine and meat, which I willingly accept in these first days but wouldn't want to make an exception to the rule for a long time, and it's right to respect the establishment according to their ordinary regime."

769 478. the Roulins' baby BVG 599, 7/6/1889.

Context:
JLB 787, 7/6/1889: "You should know that Roulin's child [Marcelle] came to them smiling and very healthy, while the parents were at bay. So take it as it is, wait with confidence and possess your soul with a long patience as an old saying has it, and with good will. Let nature take its course."

479. whose portrait hung BVG T11, 7/5/1889: Jo tells Vincent this in the announcement of her pregnancy. The unspoken insult, to which Jo is obviously alert, is that she hung this particular painting out of the way before she became pregnant -- suggesting that she didn't really like it that much.

Context:
JLB 786, 7/5/1889: "Do you remember the portrait of the Roulin baby you sent Theo? Everyone admires it greatly, and many times now people have asked 'but why have you put this portrait in this out-of-the-way corner?' It's because -- from my place at table I can just see the child's big blue eyes, its pretty little hands and round cheeks, and I like to imagine that ours will be as strong, as healthy and as beautiful as that one -- and because his uncle will consent to do his portrait one day!"

480. "came to them smiling" BVG 599, 7/6/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 478.)

Context:
BVG 599, 7/6/1889: "Remember that Roulin's child came to them smiling and very healthy when the parents were in straits."
JLB 787, 7/6/1889: "You should know that Roulin's child came to them smiling and very healthy, while the parents were at bay."

481. "caressing but purifying" BVG 603, 7/6/1889.

Context:
BVG 603, 7/6/1889: "After all, realities of this kind must be like a good mistral, not very caressing but purifying."
JLB 790, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "Realities of this sort must anyway be like a good gust of the mistral, not very soothing, but health-giving."

482. "get back" BVG 603, 7/6/1889.

Context:
BVG 603, 7/6/1889: "After all, it is something to get back one's interest in life, when I think that I am about to pass into the state of an uncle to this boy planned by your wife."
JLB 790, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "Anyway, there's enough to bring back the taste for life a little when I think that I myself am going to be promoted uncle of this boy planned by your wife."

483. "I cannot tell you" b2406 V/1982, "Gogh-Carbentus, Anna C. van" to "Gogh, Theo en Jo van", 7/17/1889: "I must tell you that I received a very nice letter from Vincent last week. I was really happy with it. I wrote to him, among other things; 'Do you know that I will become 70 in September?' and now he has written so sweetly about that and he is also very happy about you and about the countryside there and about Holland and Cor. It's very endearing how he thinks about some of the growth in nature here that he misses there and he may find back when he returns to Normandy and Bretagne. I cannot tell you how happy I am with that letter! God grant that he will do better some day." Note that Anna either mistakenly believed that Vincent had been to "Normandy and Bretagne" (perhaps confusing Theo's reports about Gauguin with the reports about her son), or misunderstood Vincent's letter in which he suggested possibly going to "Normandy or Brittany" in the future (JLB 788, 7/8/1889-7/12/1889). Vincent's letter was so out-of-character, and so pleasantly surprising to his mother, that it also merited a mention in a letter from Wil to Theo a few weeks later: "[Vincent] wrote a very nice letter to mother, nicer than he has written in years. He had been to Arles for the day, which means that he is getting out." (b2932 V/1982, "Gogh, Willemina van" to "Gogh-Bonger, Jo van", 7/29/1889.) 484. reverie of remembrance BVG 598, 7/2/1889: Vincent's long letter catalogues both the similarities and differences between his homeland and the Midi in an obsessive overlay of two places and two periods of his life.

Context:
JLB 788, 7/8/1889-7/12/1889: "In the summer here it's not much hotter than at home. ... One can sometimes see that the sun can be quite strong from the way the wheat turns yellow quickly. But the fields at home are infinitely better farmed, more regularly than here, where the rockiness of the soil in many places means it's not suitable for everything. ... One never sees buckwheat or rape here, and generally speaking there's rather less variety than at home. ... The hills here, full of thyme and other aromatic plants, are very beautiful, and because of the clarity of the air one can see from the heights so much further than at home. ... Here one also never sees the mossy peasant roofs on the barns or cottages like at home, and no oak coppices and no spurry and no beech hedges with their red-brown leaves and whitish tangled old stems. Also no proper heathland and no birches, which were so beautiful in Nuenen. ... [nor] the Virginia creeper [we see] in Holland."

485. "the beautiful Nuenen" BVG 598, 7/2/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 484.)

Context:
BVG 598, 7/2/1889: "Nor the real heather, nor the birches which were so beautiful in Nuenen."
JLB 788, 7/8/1889-7/12/1889: "Also no proper heathland and no birches, which were so beautiful in Nuenen."

486. youngest son, Cor BVG 598, 7/2/1889. Cor was twenty-two at the time. Vincent writes expansively on the subject of his departure, trying first to console his mother with practical arguments: that the move represents an career opportunity for the heretofore aimless young Cor; and that Cor will benefit from seeing other parts of the world: "It seems that one can get through the world better and more happily at a distance from those great dung-heap cities ... There is more that's natural in the world and good than one would suppose here in our continent" (JLB 788, 7/8/1889-7/12/1889). Vincent passes on his "knowledge" about the benefits of travel to exotic places: "I've often heard talk, not about the Transvaal precisely, but about Australia, for instance, by those who came from there and always longed to go back. The same about Haiti, say, about Martinique where Gauguin, who was with me in Arles, had been. And I dare suppose that the Transvaal will have one thing and another in common with Australia. Anyway, one has a chance to be able to develop and to be able to use one's energy better than in the European circumlocution" (ibid.).

Finally, he addresses the deeper issues of departure and separation, the issues that touch his own situation: "Now, my dear mother, as regards the sorrow that we have and retain about parting and loss, it seems to me that it's instinctive, that without it we wouldn't be able to accept partings, and it will probably serve us on later occasions to recognize and find one another again. Things simply can't stay in one place" (ibid.). This leads to another of Vincent's paralytically anodyne (and ultimately inner-directed) lessons (drawn from his reading) on the importance of serenity in the face of adversity and suffering, the message of which is nothing more comforting than "don't worry": "The main thing is possibly this: do you remember a story in that book 'De pruuvers', where there's an account of a sick person who watched the maid sweep the floor every morning and thought that she -- had 'something reassuring'?" JLB correct Vincent's faulty (and perhaps faltering) memory on this obscure reference (JLB 788, 7/8/1889-7/12/1889; n. 5): De Pruuvers (The Tasters) is the first in a volume of stories about Brabant life by H. Hollidee (pseudonym of Elard Albert Rovers) called Etsen Nar Het Leven (Etchings from Life), which included a frontispiece by Jozef Israëls and was mentioned by Vincent once before while in Nuenen (May 1885) in a letter to his friend Anton Kerseemakers (JLB 498). But the incident Vincent describes here comes from a different novella in the Etsen collection, "Gekleurde figuren" (Colored Figures), about a sick boy who finds comfort and security in the everyday sounds of household chores. (ibid.)

Context:
JLB 788, 7/8/1889-7/12/1889: "The news about Cor -- no wonder you're taken up with it and it will be hard on both sides to have to part."

487. "sorrow" BVG 598, 7/2/1889: The passage is not Vincent's most felicitous.

Context:
BVG 598, 7/2/1889: "As far as the sorrow, dear Mother, is concerned, which we have and continue to have in separation and loss, it seems to me it is instinctive, that without that we could not resign ourselves to separations, and that probably it will help us to recognize and find each other again later."
JLB 788, 7/8/1889-7/12/1889: "Now, my dear mother, as regards the sorrow that we have and retain about parting and loss, it seems to me that it's instinctive, that without it we wouldn't be able to accept partings, and it will probably serve us on later occasions to recognize and find one another again."

488. "separation and loss" BVG 598, 7/2/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 487.)

Context:
BVG 598, 7/2/1889: "As far as the sorrow, dear Mother, is concerned, which we have and continue to have in separation and loss, it seems to me it is instinctive, that without that we could not resign ourselves to separations, and that probably it will help us to recognize and find each other again later."
JLB 788, 7/8/1889-7/12/1889: "Now, my dear mother, as regards the sorrow that we have and retain about parting and loss, it seems to me that it's instinctive, that without it we wouldn't be able to accept partings, and it will probably serve us on later occasions to recognize and find one another again."

489. even graver worries BVG 598, 7/2/1889: We can infer the graveness of Anna's worries from Vincent's straining efforts to allay them.

Context:
JLB 788, 7/8/1889-7/12/1889: "So, cruel as this may be, I should simply leave the disquiet about whether or not Theo's constitution is strong to her, and let her worry and work at it for a year or so before we concern ourselves about it, and it occurs to me that our appearing not in the least anxious about it could turn out to be a sign of our own confidence in 'something reassuring' in nature in general."

490. "illness sometimes heals us" BVG 599, 7/6/1889: This strained comfort combines Vincent's strange, self-serving belief that a medical "crisis" foretells a recovery and his parents' punitive belief that illness represented a failure of faith and will.

Context:
BVG 599, 7/6/1889: "I very much like to think that illness sometimes heals us, that is to say, when the discomfort comes to a crisis, it is necessary for the recovery of the body's normal condition. No, after he has been married for some time, he will recover his strength, as he still has a reserve of youth and power to restore him."
JLB 787, 7/6/1889: "I very much like to believe that illnesses sometimes cure us, i.e. that when the illness comes to a crisis it's a thing necessary to the recovery of a normal state of body. No, subsequent to the marriage he'll regain his strength, still having the reserve of youth and power to restore him."

491. "A sickly condition" BVG 599, 7/6/1889. Vincent adds to the strange, anchorless optimism quoted in the text a general exhortation to "Patience," and a questionable recollection that "[Anton] Mauve always claimed that nature was good, and even a lot more than one usually thought. Is there anything in his past that proves that he was wrong. His fits of melancholy in his last days, do you think? I myself would be inclined to believe otherwise." (JLB 787, 7/6/1889.) In his straining to provide examples of serenity in the face of adversity, and its rewards, Vincent seems to have worked himself in a knot of self-contradiction.

Context:
BVG 599, 7/6/1889: "Altogether I think it is all going very well, and once more, while sharing with all my heart all possible uneasiness about Theo's health, with me the hope predominates that in this case a more or less sickly condition is only the result of nature's efforts to right herself."
JLB 787, 7/6/1889: "Anyway, I think that's going very well, and once again, while sharing with all my heart all possible worries about Theo's health, within me the hope predominates that in this case a more or less sickly condition is only the result of the efforts of nature to right itself.

492. heard a defense BVG 598, 7/2/1889: This becomes clear, almost inadvertently, at the very end of Vincent's letter of congratulation, consolation (and reconciliation) to his mother in early July. He closes by suggesting that his mother "see to it that ... [Theo's] wife and him to come and visit you twice a year instead of once. This would be good for you and them, particularly now that Cor's leaving." (JLB 788, 7/8/1889-7/12/1889.) But he warns that Theo's employers at Goupil (Boussod et Valedon) might object to his taking two vacations a year, not the usual one. This triggers a sudden outburst that exposes his deep residual bitterness: "Don't forget that we have as many reasons for ingratitude as for gratitude to the Paris business" (ibid.). This bitterness, of course, masks the even deeper guilt he felt over the great disappointment and humiliation he had caused his family when, in 1876, he was dismissed from his job at Goupil. (See Chapter 7.) 493. the final victory BVG 603, 7/6/1889. From the opening salutation ("my dear fellow"), this benign-sounding felicitation raises one of the most explosive issues of the brothers' relationship: the equivalence between Theo and their father (a twosome that Vincent once furiously labeled "Father I" and "Father II") (JLB 790, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889). In The Hague and Nuenen and no doubt before, Vincent had fought desperately to keep Theo on his side of the barricade in his endless paternal battles with "our good father," and always felt terribly betrayed when Theo sided with, or appeared to side with, their distant, disapproving patriarch. Theo's imminent fatherhood sealed that solidarity with "Pa" in a way virtually guaranteed to end in irreconcilable and undying estrangement -- that is, exactly as Vincent's relationship with his father ended. The marriage to Jo had already moved Theo in this direction, as Vincent reluctantly acknowledged in an earlier letter (JLB 768, 5/3/1889, from May 1889) that both reviewed previous "breaks" between the brothers in relation to their father and seemed to foresee the coming of children as the inevitable final break.

Context:
JLB 790, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "And you -- my dear fellow -- how are things, and so write me a few words one of these days -- for I can imagine that the emotions which must move the forthcoming father of a family, emotions of which our good father so loved to speak, must be great and of sterling worth in you."

494. a Millet painting had sold BVG W13, 7/2/1889. Millet's Angelus sold in Paris on July 1, 1889, as part of the sale of the collection of M. E. Secrétan conducted by Boussod & Valadon. The Millet, which was bought by the Louvre, fetched by far the highest price of the sale, 500,000 francs. The New York Times reported the price in dollars as $111,000 ("Secretan's Great Sale").

Context:
JLB 785, 7/2/1889: "So although yesterday more than half a million francs were paid for Millet's Angelus, don't go believing that more souls will feel what was in Millet's soul."

495. his own continued poverty BVG 599, 7/6/1889: In this light, it is more understandable why he withheld any mention of the Millet sale until more than a week later (see Ch. 39, n. 496). This may also explain why Vincent presented the trip to Arles as an attempt to arrange a deal to move his furniture from the Ginouxs (where he was paying rent on storage) to the asylum -- that is, a savings to Theo (JLB 787, 7/6/1889). As if to escape the scolding that he expected Theo might give him for his continued financial failings might trigger, Vincent reminded his brother that "the smallest thing could bring on another attack" (ibid.).

Context:
JLB 787, 7/6/1889: "When I came here I left 50 francs with M. Salles to settle up with the hospital in Arles, he'll certainly have some over. But having again quite often needed various things, the surplus that M. Peyron had here is exhausted. I'm a little surprised myself that in living with the greatest possible sobriety and regularity for the last 6 months, without having my independent studio, I'm not spending less or producing more than the previous, relatively less sober year. And inwardly I feel neither more nor less remorse &c. if you like."

496. "the black need" BVG W13, 7/2/1889. Vincent cautions his sister not to think that, because of the Angelus sale, "the painters who are still working in Brittany among the peasants will have more encouragement for that matter, less of the same black famine that always surrounded Millet, above all more courage" (JLB 785, 7/2/1889; see Ch. 39, n. 494). To his brother, Vincent acknowledged the importance of the sale. "What a business, that Sécretan sale," he wrote in mid-July (JLB 789, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889). But his celebration was shadowed by understatement ("It always pleases me that the Millets are holding their own"), and reservations (ibid.). He worried that there were not enough good reproductions of Millet's works ("So that it can reach the common folk" [ibid.]), and fretted that such sales (an American was the underbidder for the Angelus ["Secretan's Great Sale,"]), would disperse the master's work "as a whole" in a such a way that would make it "more and more difficult to form an idea of it when the paintings are dispersed" (JLB 789, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889). The most telling indication of Vincent's ambivalence toward the commercial success of his hero Millet is the long pause between his initial acknowledgement of the sale to Wil (JLB 785, 7/2/1889) and his first mention of it to Theo, almost two weeks later (JLB 789, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889). In this inexplicable hesitation (the sale, after all, had been conducted by Theo's firm, Boussod & Valadon) one can hear Vincent's deep shame at his own failures, which contrasted so starkly with Millet's triumph.

Context:
BVG W13, 7/2/1889: "Don't think that for such a reason those painters who are still at work among the peasants in Brittany should become more encouraged or suffer less under the black need that always tortured Millet, need of courage above all."
JLB 785, 7/2/1889: "Don't go believing that the painters who are still working in Brittany among the peasants will have more encouragement for that matter, less of the same black famine that always surrounded Millet, above all more courage."

497. the screeching cicadas BVG 603, 7/6/1889. In his letter congratulating Theo and Jo on the announcement of Jo's pregnancy, Vincent writes evocatively of these noisy grasshopper-like insects that, according to an earlier letter, nightly "sing at least as loudly as a frog" (JLB 638, 7/10/1888 or 7/10/1888): "Outside the cicadas are singing fit to burst, a strident cry ten times louder than that of the crickets, and the scorched grass is taking on beautiful tones of old gold." (JLB 787, 7/6/1889.)

But, as everywhere in the same letter, Vincent hears a warning of mortality in Jo's news of new life. He hears a kind of taunt in the cicadas song -- the indifference of all nature to the comings and goings of mortals: "The beautiful towns of the south are in the state of our dead towns along the Zuiderzee, which were formerly lively. While in the downfall and the decline of things, the cicadas dear to good old Socrates have remained. And here, certainly, they're still singing old Greek" (ibid.). The same dual nature of the cicadas' song (as both comfort and mockery) fills Vincent's last letter to Theo before his breakdown. (JLB 790, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889.) On the one hand, he uses it to reaffirm the brothers' shared love of nature and (largely imagined) shared childhood on the heath: "Their song in times of great heat holds the same charm for me as the cricket in the peasant's hearth at home" (ibid.). (To reify the role of the cicadas as fraternal intermediaries, Vincent enclosed a drawing of three cicadas [Three Cicadas (F 1445 JH 1765)] in his letter.) This image opens a long, obscure passage in which Vincent tries to cement the brothers' unbreakable bonds even as he feels those bonds giving way under the demands of Theo's new family: "So take your fatherhood as a good fellow from our old heaths would take it, those heaths that remain ineffably dear to us through all the noise, tumult, fog, anguish of the towns, however timid our tenderness may be. That's to say, take your fatherhood there, from your nature as an exile and a foreigner and a poor man, henceforth basing himself with the poor man's instinct" (ibid.).

This, of course, is almost purely wishful delusion. Theo, unlike Vincent, never felt any kinship with the poor and was never exiled or estranged; and although he loved Naturalist painting and literature, he rarely stayed long in the countryside, except to visit family in bourgeois comfort. At some level, Vincent knew this, but refused to admit it explicitly -- which probably accounts to some extent for the passage's tortured logic and syntax. Vincent's sense of a continued brotherhood in memory and imagination is reduced to this grim image: "Things are so closely connected that here one sometimes finds cockroaches in the food as if one were really in Paris, on the other hand it can happen in Paris that you sometimes have a real thought of the fields. It's certainly not much, but it's reassuring anyway" (ibid.). This image is "reassuring" in the same way the cicadas song is reassuring -- which is to say, not reassuring at all: Vincent will think of Theo when he sees a cockroach in the asylum refectory and Theo will think of Vincent when he sees a tree in a Paris park. So the cicadas sing to Vincent not only of the brothers' eternal bond through nature (i.e., "we will always have the heath") but also of the evanescence of all human bonds and the perishability of all human endeavor. In this way, they act as the unwelcome reminders of mortality -- the Furies of religious longing -- that he is trying desperately, and increasingly unsuccessfully, to keep at bay.

Context:
JLB 790, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "I enclose a croquis of the cicadas from here. Their song in times of great heat holds the same charm for me as the cricket in the peasant's hearth at home. My dear fellow -- let's not forget that small emotions are the great captains of our lives, and that these we obey without knowing it."

498. "little emotions" BVG 603, 7/6/1889.

Context:
BVG 603, 7/6/1889: "Old man -- don't let's forget that the little emotions are the great captains of our lives, and that we obey them without knowing it."
JLB 790, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "My dear fellow -- let's not forget that small emotions are the great captains of our lives, and that these we obey without knowing it."

499. or dying The relentless reports of Theo's ill health, from Jo and from his mother (see Ch. 39, n. 489), plus his own first-hand knowledge of Theo's health problems and frail constitution, had to alert Vincent to this dreadful prospect. The seriousness of situation was confirmed in a letter from Theo himself in late July: "As for me, I look like a corpse" (JLB 793, 7/29/1889). We see Vincent's preoccupation with the possibility that Theo might die in his obsession with images of death during the summer of 1889, including his own multiple depictions of the reaper (see Ch. 39, n. 506), in apposition to the vital image of the sower; and his Shakespearean meditation on death (JLB 785, 7/2/1889; see Ch. 39, n. 426). 770 500. "an eccentric" BVG 603, 7/6/1889.

Context:
BVG 603, 7/6/1889: "The doctor here said to me about Monticelli that he always thought him an eccentric, but that as for madness, he had only been a little that way toward the end."
JLB 790, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "The doctor was telling me about Monticelli, that he had always considered him eccentric, but as for mad, he had only been a little that way towards the end" (emphasis in original).

501. "a little …" BVG 603, 7/6/1889.

Context:
BVG 603, 7/6/1889: "The doctor here said to me about Monticelli that he always thought him an eccentric, but that as for madness, he had only been a little that way toward the end."
JLB 790, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "The doctor was telling me about Monticelli, that he had always considered him eccentric, but as for mad, he had only been a little that way towards the end" (emphasis in original).

502. "Considering all the misery" BVG 603, 7/6/1889.

Context:
BVG 603, 7/6/1889: " Considering all the misery of Monticelli's last years, is there any reason to be surprised that he gave way under too heavy a load, and has one any right to deduce from this that artistically speaking he fell short in his work?"
JLB 790, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: " Considering all the miseries of M's last years, is it any surprise that he bowed beneath a weight that was too heavy, and is one right in trying to deduce from that that he failed in his work, artistically speaking?"

503. letter to Gauguin BVG 603, 7/6/1889. Vincent enclosed a letter to Gauguin in a pair of letters he sent Theo together in mid-July (JLB 789 and 790, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889). The latter opens with this reference: "If I'm writing to you again today it's because I'm enclosing a few words that I've written to our friend Gauguin" (JLB 790, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889). (See Ch. 39, n. 508.)

Context:
JLB 790, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "If I'm writing to you again today it's because I'm enclosing a few words that I've written to our friend Gauguin, feeling sufficient calm return to me these last few days for my letter not to be absolutely absurd, it seemed to me."

504. another of the garden vignettes The painting is Tree Trunks with Ivy, F 746 JH 1762, July, 1889, oil on canvas, 29.1 x 36.2 in., 74 x 92 cm., Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam. 505. sorted through the paintings BVG W14, 9/19/1889. Later, in September (1889), Vincent reveals "I don't much like seeing my own paintings in my bedroom" (JLB 804, 9/19/1889). Since we know he hung his own paintings in his bedroom in Arles, this could only mean that he had at least once had his paintings in his bedroom at the asylum at Saint-Rémy and found their presence distressing. Since he did not take any paintings to the asylum when he entered it in May, the paintings he is referring to must be the ones that he brought back from Arles in July.

Context:
JLB 804, 9/19/1889: "I've painted a few for myself, too, these past few weeks -- I don't much like seeing my own paintings in my bedroom, so I've copied one by Delacroix and a few by Millet."

506. the reaper that he watched This image haunted Vincent throughout the summer. After completing his first version in June 1889 (Wheat Field with Reaper and Sun [F 617 JH 1753]), Vincent made a drawing of the image and sent it to Theo (Enclosed Wheat Field with Reaper [F 1546 JH 1754]) (JLB 784, 7/2/1889). According to Pickvance, Vincent sent another sketch of the image in his letter to Gauguin that was enclosed with JLB 784, 7/2/1889 (Pickvance, p. 37). Since the Gauguin letter has been lost, this conclusion appears to be based on Vincent's statement in the letter to Theo that "I have one [picture] on the go of a moonrise over the same field as the croquis in the Gauguin letter, but in which stacks replace the wheat" (JLB 790, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889). The moonrise painting referred to (Evening Landscape with Rising Moon [F 735 JH 1761]) depicts the same scene as the sunlighted scene in Wheat Field with Reaper and Sun (F 617 JH 1753) but does not include the figure of the reaper. In September, after his series of breakdowns in July and August, Vincent returned to the image of the Reaper in Wheat Fields with Reaper at Sunrise (F 618 JH 1773) (JLB 800, 9/5/1889-9/6/1889). He worked from the previous painting, not from life. Reaping had long been completed and planting begun. Pickvance also believes that Vincent retouched Wheat Field with Reaper and Sun (F 617 JH 1753) at this time (Pickvance, p. 135). 507. "It is still hard" BVG 603, 7/6/1889: This is another of the passages in which Vincent's passions outpace his control of the language.

Context:
BVG 603, 7/6/1889: "If it is still hard for me to take courage again in spite of faults committed, and to be committed, which must be my cure, don't forget henceforth that neither our spleen nor our melancholy, nor yet our feelings of good nature or common sense, are our sole guides, and above all not our final protection and that if you too find yourself faced with heavy responsibilities to be risked if not undertaken, honestly, don't let's be too much concerned about each other, since it so happens that the circumstances of living in a state so far removed from our youthful conceptions of an artist's life must make us brothers in spite of everything, as we are in so many ways companions in fate."
JLB 790, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "If it's still hard for me to regain courage over faults committed and to be committed, which would be my recovery, let's not forget from that moment on that neither our spleens and melancholies nor our feelings of good nature and good sense are our sole guides, and above all not our final custodians, and that if you yourself also find yourself facing hard responsibilities to venture, if not to take, my word let's not be too concerned with each other, while it so happens that life's circumstances in situations so far removed from our youthful conceptions of the life of the artist would render us brothers after all, as being companions in fate in many respects" (emphasis in original).

508. letter that accompanied On July 14 or 15, Vincent sent two letters together, JLB 789 and JLB 790: the former enumerating the paintings he was sending; the latter apologizing for them. He wrote Gauguin the same day, but that letter has been lost. (See JLB 789; note on dating.) 509. barely held his thoughts together BVG 603, 7/6/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 497. For other examples, see Ch. 39, n. 507, n. 510, n. 516, and n. 518.)

Context:
JLB 790, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "If it's still hard for me to regain courage over faults committed and to be committed, which would be my recovery, let's not forget from that moment on that neither our spleens and melancholies nor our feelings of good nature and good sense are our sole guides, and above all not our final custodians, and that if you yourself also find yourself facing hard responsibilities to venture, if not to take, my word let's not be too concerned with each other, while it so happens that life's circumstances in situations so far removed from our youthful conceptions of the life of the artist would render us brothers after all, as being companions in fate in many respects" (emphasis in original).

510. "If you too" BVG 603, 7/6/1889: Vincent's French is not adequate to the depth and fever of his feelings.

Context:
BVG 603, 7/6/1889: "If it is still hard for me to take courage again in spite of faults committed, and to be committed, which must be my cure, don't forget henceforth that neither our spleen nor our melancholy, nor yet our feelings of good nature or common sense, are our sole guides, and above all not our final protection and that if you too find yourself faced with heavy responsibilities to be risked if not undertaken, honestly, don't let's be too much concerned about each other, since it so happens that the circumstances of living in a state so far removed from our youthful conceptions of an artist's life must make us brothers in spite of everything, as we are in so many ways companions in fate."
JLB 790, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "If it's still hard for me to regain courage over faults committed and to be committed, which would be my recovery, let's not forget from that moment on that neither our spleens and melancholies nor our feelings of good nature and good sense are our sole guides, and above all not our final custodians, and that if you yourself also find yourself facing hard responsibilities to venture, if not to take, my word let's not be too concerned with each other, while it so happens that life's circumstances in situations so far removed from our youthful conceptions of the life of the artist would render us brothers after all, as being companions in fate in many respects" (emphasis in original).

511. "far from our youthful" BVG 603, 7/6/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 510.)

Context:
BVG 603, 7/6/1889: "… don't let's be too much concerned about each other, since it so happens that the circumstances of living in a state so far removed from our youthful conceptions of an artist's life must make us brothers in spite of everything, as we are in so many ways companions in fate."
JLB 790, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "… let's not be too concerned with each other, while it so happens that life's circumstances in situations so far removed from our youthful conceptions of the life of the artist would render us brothers after all, as being companions in fate in many respects" (emphasis in original).

512. had his own family BVG 603, 7/6/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 518 and n. 493.) Eventually, Vincent is forced to modify his great metaphor of the heath, which represents the brother's eternal bond, to include Theo's family: "The fact that one takes on a kind of second nature in Paris, that moreover preoccupations with business and art make one less strong than the peasants, doesn't prevent one, through the bonds of having wife and child, from reattaching oneself all the same to that simpler and truer nature whose ideal sometimes haunts us" (JLB 789, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889). Note how this modification essentially replaces Vincent with a "wife and child" as Theo's connection to the heath.

Context:
JLB 790, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "So take your fatherhood as a good fellow from our old heaths would take it, those heaths that remain ineffably dear to us through all the noise, tumult, fog, anguish of the towns, however timid our tenderness may be. That's to say, take your fatherhood there, from your nature as an exile and a foreigner and a poor man, henceforth basing himself with the poor man's instinct on the probability of the real existence of a native country, of a real existence at least of the memory, even while we've forgotten every day."

513. delusion of solidarity BVG 603, 7/6/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 497.)

Context:
JLB 790, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "Thus sooner or later we find our fate. But certainly for you, as well as for me, it would be a little hypocritical to forget completely our good humour, the confident sloppiness we had as the poor devils we were as we came and went in that Paris, so strange now -- and to place too much weight upon our cares."

514. "an exile and stranger" BVG 603, 7/6/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 497.)

Context:
BVG 603, 7/6/1889: "That is to say, let this be your notion of fatherhood, exile and stranger and poor man that you are, and henceforth, find strength, with the instinct of the poor, in the probability of a real, real life of one's fatherland, a real life at least in memory, even though we may forget it every day."
JLB 790, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "That's to say, take your fatherhood there, from your nature as an exile and a foreigner and a poor man, henceforth basing himself with the poor man's instinct on the probability of the real existence of a native country, of a real existence at least of the memory, even while we've forgotten every day."

515. "it still remains" BVG 603, 7/6/1889. We have altered the translation slightly.

Context:
BVG 603, 7/6/1889: "So take your fatherhood as a good soul on our old heaths would take it, those heaths which, through all the noise, tumult and fogginess of the cities, still remain with us, inexpressibly dear -- however timid our tenderness may be."
JLB 790, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "So take your fatherhood as a good fellow from our old heaths would take it, those heaths that remain ineffably dear to us through all the noise, tumult, fog, anguish of the towns, however timid our tenderness may be."

516. "happy-go-lucky" BVG 603, 7/6/1889. Like so much of Vincent's last letter to Theo before his breakdown in mid-July, this recollection of "the good humor" and "the happy-go-lucky carelessness of the poor devils that we were" in Paris, is delusionally Panglossian (JLB 790, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889).

Context:
BVG 603, 7/6/1889: "Sooner or later, such as it is, we meet our destinies, but certainly it would be a sort of hypocrisy if I were to forget all the good humour, the happy-go-lucky carelessness of the poor devils that we were, coming and going in this Paris that has become so strange, and to let it weigh us down out of proportion to our real load of cares."
JLB 790, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "Thus sooner or later we find our fate. But certainly for you, as well as for me, it would be a little hypocritical to forget completely our good humour, the confident sloppiness we had as the poor devils we were as we came and went in that Paris, so strange now -- and to place too much weight upon our cares."

517. "only in memory" BVG 603, 7/6/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 512.) We have altered the translations slightly.

Context:
BVG 603, 7/6/1889: "That is to say, let this be your notion of fatherhood, exile and stranger and poor man that you are, and henceforth, find strength, with the instinct of the poor, in the probability of a real, real life of one's fatherland, a real life at least in memory, even though we may forget it every day."
JLB 790, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "That's to say, take your fatherhood there, from your nature as an exile and a foreigner and a poor man, henceforth basing himself with the poor man's instinct on the probability of the real existence of a native country, of a real existence at least of the memory, even while we've forgotten every day."

518. "meet our destinies" BVG 603, 7/6/1889. In his twisted effort to both cement the brothers' bond in memory and acknowledge their divergent paths in life, Vincent writes confusingly: "take your fatherhood there, from your nature as an exile and a foreigner and a poor man, henceforth basing himself with the poor man's instinct on the probability of the real existence of a native country, of a real existence at least of the memory, even while we've forgotten every day. Thus sooner or later we find our fate." (JLB 790, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889.) Clearly, he is too afraid to let his words reflect the fear that drives them, which is something more like "You will meet your destiny and I will meet mine" -- an acknowledgement of the separation that is the tormented subtext of this entire letter (ibid.). (See Ch. 39, n. 497.)

Context:
BVG 603, 7/6/1889: "Sooner or later, such as it is, we meet our destinies, but certainly it would be a sort of hypocrisy if I were to forget all the good humour, the happy-go-lucky carelessness of the poor devils that we were, coming and going in this Paris that has become so strange, and to let it weigh us down out of proportion to our real load of cares."
JLB 790, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "Thus sooner or later we find our fate. But certainly for you, as well as for me, it would be a little hypocritical to forget completely our good humour, the confident sloppiness we had as the poor devils we were as we came and went in that Paris, so strange now -- and to place too much weight upon our cares."

519. "The emotions that come" BVG 626a, 2/10/1890-2/11/1890.

Context:
BVG 626a, 2/10/1890-2/11/1890: "Until now, I have not been able to do them as I feel them; the emotions that come over me in the face of nature can be so intense that I lose consciousness, and the result is a fortnight during which I cannot do any work."
JLB 853, 2/9/1890 or 2/10/1890: "Until now I have not been able to do them as I feel it; in my case the emotions that take hold of me in the face of nature go as far as fainting, and then the result is a fortnight during which I am incapable of working."

520. a day or two before BVG 600, 7/9/1889. On July 14 or 15, Vincent wrote: "The latest canvas I've done is a view of mountains with a darkish hut among olive trees at the bottom" (JLB 789, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889).

Context:
JLB 789, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "I've also received the second consignment of canvases and colours, and I thank you very much for them. The latest canvas I've done is a view of mountains with a darkish hut among olive trees at the bottom."

521. "with a dark hut" BVG 600, 7/9/1889: The painting is Mountains at Saint Rémy with Dark Cottage, F 622 JH 1766, July, 1889, oil on canvas, 28.4 x 35.8 in., 72 x 91 cm., The Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New York.

Context:
BVG 600, 7/9/1889: "The last canvas I have done is a view of mountains with a dark hut at the bottom among some olive trees."
JLB 789, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "The latest canvas I've done is a view of mountains with a darkish hut among olive trees at the bottom."

522. Le sens de la vie BVG 601, 8/22/1889. Vincent doesn't reveal this connection until after his series of attacks in the summer of 1889: "Whilst not liking Rod's book excessively, I've nevertheless done a canvas of that passage in which he speaks of the darkish mountains and huts" (JLB 797, 8/22/1889). This, of course, is exactly the way in which he described the painting (Mountains at Saint Rémy with Dark Cottage [F 622 JH 1766, July, 1889, oil on canvas, 28.4 x 35.8 in., 72 x 91 cm., The Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New York]) that he did in July not long after hearing of Jo's pregnancy: "The latest canvas I've done is a view of mountains with a darkish hut among olive trees at the bottom" (JLB 789, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889). In another letter in September, he confirms the connection as he sends the canvas to Theo: "You'll soon see a canvas of a hut in the mountains which I did under the influence of that book by Rod" (JLB 798, 9/2/1889). The significance of this association is so strong that Vincent emphasizes it again a few letters later in a passage fraught with artistic and personal significance: "it seemed to me that [the painting] expressed the passage in Rod's book -- one of the very rare passages of his in which I find something good -- on a lost land of dark mountains in which one noticed the darkish huts of goatherds, where sunflowers bloomed" (JLB 805, 9/20/1889).

Context:
JLB 797, 8/22/1889: "Whilst not liking Rod's book excessively, I've nevertheless done a canvas of that passage in which he speaks of the darkish mountains and huts."

523. "enchanted asylum" Rod, p. 16: " N'ai-je pas mon buen-retiro qui m'attend, l'asile enchanté où je retrouverai le regard de deux yeux dévoués? (What does all that matter? Don't I have my buen retiro who awaits me, the enchanted asylum where I will find the regard of two devoted eyes?" 524. veered dangerously BVG 600, 7/9/1889: In his letter to Theo immediately after painting Mountains at Saint Rémy with Dark Cottage (F 622 JH 1766, July, 1889, oil on canvas, 28.4 x 35.8 in., 72 x 91 cm., The Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New York), Vincent reveals the connection between the image and Theo's family in the progression of thoughts: "The latest canvas I've done is a view of mountains with a darkish hut among olive trees at the bottom. I imagine that you'll be very absorbed by thoughts of the child to come, I'm very pleased that this should be so, with time I dare believe that you'll thus find much inner serenity." (JLB 789, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889.) After describing the painting, which Vincent later admitted was inspired by Rod's book (see Ch. 39, n. 522), his mind turns immediately to Theo and how is completely absorbed in thoughts of the coming child -- and therefore doesn't need Vincent any more.

Context:
JLB 789, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "I imagine that you'll be very absorbed by thoughts of the child to come, I'm very pleased that this should be so, with time I dare believe that you'll thus find much inner serenity."

525. "the child" BVG 600, 7/9/1889.

Context:
BVG 600, 7/9/1889: "I expect you will be greatly absorbed by the thought of the child who is to come; I am very glad it is so; I dare think that in time you will find a good deal of inner tranquility that way."
JLB 789, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "I imagine that you'll be very absorbed by thoughts of the child to come, I'm very pleased that this should be so, with time I dare believe that you'll thus find much inner serenity."

526. tranquil life together BVG 600, 7/9/1889. (See Ch. 39, n. 525.)

Context:
JLB 789, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "I imagine that you'll be very absorbed by thoughts of the child to come, I'm very pleased that this should be so, with time I dare believe that you'll thus find much inner serenity."

527. "that keeps haunting us" BVG 600, 7/9/1889: Not surprisingly, Vincent expresses this anxiety in abstract, almost literary form, even though (indeed, because) the personal reality was so fraught with emotion. We have altered the translation slightly.

Context:
BVG 600, 7/9/1889: "The fact that in Paris you take on, as it were, a second nature, which over and above the preoccupation of business and art makes you less strong than the peasants -- that fact does not prevent you from linking yourself through the bonds of a wife and child, with this simpler and truer nature, the ideal of which keeps haunting us."
JLB 789, 7/14/1889 or 7/15/1889: "The fact that one takes on a kind of second nature in Paris, that moreover preoccupations with business and art make one less strong than the peasants, doesn't prevent one, through the bonds of having wife and child, from reattaching oneself all the same to that simpler and truer nature whose ideal sometimes haunts us."

528. "rather wild places" BVG B20, 10/8/1889.

Context:
BVG B20, 10/8/1889: "Such subjects certainly have a fine melancholy, but then it is fun to work in rather wild places , where one has to dig one's easel in between the stones lest the wind should blow the whole caboodle over."
JLB 809, 10/8/1889: "These motifs certainly have a beautiful melancholy, and it's enjoyable to work in really wild sites where you have to bury your easel in the stones so that the wind doesn't send everything flying to the ground."

771 529. an old quarry BVG 607, 9/19/1889. In September, Vincent refers to Entrance to a Quarry (F 744 JH 1802) as the painting "I did when I felt this attack beginning" (JLB 805, 9/20/1889). (See Pickvance, p. 119.) According to Pickvance: "Quarries abounded in Saint-Remy below the foothills of the Alpilles, many of them worked since Roman times. Some were to be found just outside the asylum, providing easily accessible motifs for van Gogh." (Pickvance, p. 120.) The quarry depicted in Entrance to a Quarry (F 744 JH 1802) has not been identified. Several months later (in October) Vincent painted another quarry (Entrance to a Quarry near Saint Rémy [F 635 JH 1767]) that features the distinctive twin openings of Noé's Quarry (pictured in Pickvance, p. 150).

Context:
JLB 805, 9/20/1889: "Myself I quite like the Entrance to a quarry which I did when I felt this attack beginning, because to my taste the dark greens go well with the ochre tones, there's something sad in them that's healthy, and that's why it doesn't annoy me."

530. furious gust of mistral BVG 601, 8/22/1889: Vincent reports this in his first letter after the series of attacks that began in mid-July. Interestingly, only days before the catastrophe, Vincent had complained of the wind, which, up to that time, had not been as bad as in Arles: "What's more, we very often have a strong wind, the mistral. I've painted in the wheatfields during the hottest part of the day without it bothering me much." (JLB 788, 7/8/1889-7/12/1889.) We believe that Vincent's lighthearted comment to Bernard fully four months later (in October) is, in fact, a disguised account of the very serious episode that befell him in mid-July: " it's enjoyable to work in really wild sites where you have to bury your easel in the stones so that the wind doesn't send everything flying to the ground" (JLB 809, 10/8/1889).

Context:
JLB 797, 8/22/1889: "This new crisis, my dear brother, came upon me in the fields, and when I was in the middle of painting on a windy day."

531. quarry's Biblical abyss Caves and caverns had a long history of religious significance in Vincent's imagination. His father had preached the story from the Book of Kings about how Obadiah hid a hundred prophets of Jehovah in two caves (b2644 V/1982, ''Gogh, Theodorus en Anna C. van'' to ''Gogh, Theo van'', 7/19/1873). After giving his first sermon in Isleworth in 1876, Vincent reported "I felt like someone emerging from a dark, underground vault into the friendly daylight" (JLB 96, 11/3/1876). One of his earliest adult drawings (The Cave of Machpelah, F XXX JH --, May, 1877, Van Gogh Museum) depicted the cave of Machpelah described in Genesis 23 (JLB 116, 5/28/1877). (See Van Heugten, p. 64.)

His two favorite Old Testament characters were Jacob, who wrestled with an angel at the entrance to a cave (JLB 816, 11/3/1889) and the Christ-like Elijah (also in Kings) who went to the wilderness and lodged in a cave: "And [Elijah] came thither unto a cave, and lodged there; and, behold, the word of the Lord came to him, ... Elijah heard it, that he wrapped his face in his mantle, and went out, and stood in the entering in of the cave. And, behold, there came a voice unto him." (JLB 118, 5/31/1877.) (Vincent cited the same passage in a letter to Tersteeg in 1877 [JLB 124, 8/3/1877].)

In The Hague, Vincent wrote, "Then staring melancholically into the abyss is fatal too, and the way to make that go away is hard work" (JLB 383, 9/7/1883 or 9/8/1883). The image was still vivid in Vincent's imagination in the summer of 1889 not least because of a print of Delacroix's Pietà that had hung on his wall throughout his time in Arles and came with him to Saint-Rémy. Vincent described the Delacroix image as "a dead Christ with the Mater Dolorosa. The exhausted corpse lies bent forward on its left side at the entrance to a cave." (JLB 804, 9/19/1889.) This image of Christ resurrected from a cave played a role in Vincent’s month-long series of attacks that summer (see Chapter 40) and may well have played a role in the initial attack described in the text. Vincent also would have noted with special interest the recurrent nightmare reported by Serge, Zola's hero in The Sin of Father Mouret: "Always the same nightmare; it made me crawl alone in an endless cavern. And then I would be in great pain and the cavern would suddenly be walled up; a pile of rocks would fall from the ceiling, the walls would come to get me." (Zola, La faute de l'abbé Mouret [The Sin of Father Mouret], p. 101.)

532. "makes one feel more easily" BVG 599, 7/6/1889. We have altered the translation slightly.

Context:
BVG 599, 7/6/1889: "In my life as a painter, and especially when I am in the country, it is less difficult for me to be alone, because in the country you feel more easily the ties that unite us all."
JLB 787, 7/6/1889: "In my life as a painter, and above all when I'm in the country, it's not so difficult for me to be alone, because in the country one feels the bonds that unite us all more easily."

533. "a horrible feeling" BVG W14, 9/19/1889: In September, from the safety of retrospect, Vincent frames his account of this incident to his sister Wil in a haze of generalization: "And it's also that since my illness the feeling of loneliness takes hold of me in the fields in such a fearsome way that I hesitate to go out" (JLB 804, 9/19/1889). We have taken this to be, in fact, a specific memory -- as specific as it could be -- of the attack in July, much like Vincent's later account to Aurier (see Ch. 39, n. 534). We have altered the translation slightly.

Context:
BVG W14, 9/19/1889: "And it is also a fact that since my disease, when I am in the fields I am overwhelmed by a feeling of loneliness to such a horrible extent that I shy away from going out."
JLB 804, 9/19/1889: "And it's also that since my illness the feeling of loneliness takes hold of me in the fields in such a fearsome way that I hesitate to go out."

534. spell of dizziness BVG 626a, 2/10/1890-2/11/1890. This is what Vincent admits to the critic Albert Aurier in a letter the following February (1890): "the emotions that take hold of me in the face of nature go as far as fainting" (JLB 853, 2/9/1890 or 2/10/1890). Since there is no other instance, either known or implied in Vincent's letters, in which he lost consciousness while painting outdoors, we believe he is, in fact, referring to his attack in mid-July, not to a regular pattern of behavior as he implies. In August 1889, after emerging from a month of attacks, Vincent describes his initial attack in mid-July: "in the fields, and when I was in the middle of painting on a windy day," and then adds, "I'll send you the canvas, which I nevertheless finished" (JLB 797, 8/22/1889). Some commentators, including Rewald, have taken this to mean that the initial attack was not so debilitating that Vincent did not continue painting afterwards on the spot (Rewald, p. 316). We think that is not what Vincent meant to imply, nor does it comport with what is known about his mental affliction. Clearly, he meant only that, in the intervening month, he had taken up the same canvas -- or perhaps just the same image -- and completed a version of it (Entrance to a Quarry [F 744 JH 1802]).

Context:
JLB 853, 2/9/1890 or 2/10/1890: "Until now I have not been able to do them as I feel it; in my case the emotions that take hold of me in the face of nature go as far as fainting, and then the result is a fortnight during which I am incapable of working.