Notes
Chapters
- A Fanatic Heart
- 27. Against the Grain
- 28. The Zemganno Brothers
- 29. Catch and Release
- 30. A Mercenary Frenzy
- 31. Le Paradou
- 32. The Sunflower and the Oleander
- 33. The Poet's Garden
- 34. Imaginary Savage
- 35. La Lutte
- 36. The Stranger
- 37. Two Roads
- 38. The Real South
- 39. Starry Night
- 40. The Isolated One
- 41. A Degenerate Child
- 42. The Garden and the Wheatfield
- 43. Illusions Fade, the Sublime Remains
- Ici Repose
The Early Years
The Dutch Years
The French Years
Chapters
When Vincent left work after seven (his workday usually ended at six P.M., except on Saturday, when Goupil closed at four P.M. (JLB 009, 6/13/1873), but he often stayed in the city longer to eat a cheap dinner. His parents refer several times to his evenings beginning at seven (e.g., b2630 V/1982, "Gogh, Theodorus en Anna C. van" to "Gogh, Theo van", 5/31/1873). He must have often encountered droves of sheep, cattle, and pigs clattering their way to market through the paralyzed traffic (De Maré, p. 70). In 1867, a statute was passed prohibiting the driving of livestock on London streets between 10:00 A.M. and 7:00 P.M. Because the meat markets in Smithfield and Islington were only open two days a week, the additional congestion (and, no doubt, confusion) on the streets was confined to only those two days. Still, a flock of sheep can be seen competing for roadway in Gustave Doré's famous image of high madness on London's streets, Ludgate Hill from London -- A Pilgrimage (1872). De Maré adds to this nightmarish portrait of London's street scene this memorable detail: "now and then a wagonnette filled with children on an outing, or a fire-engine in flying career" (De Maré, p. 70). All these vehicles (and livestock) jockeyed for advantage in streets devoid of stoplights or traffic cops (Porter, p. 227). Policemen walking beats might try to unsnarl particular jams (as Doré depicts in Ludgate Hill), but there were, according to Porter, "few policemen on point-duty" (i.e., permanently stationed at intersections) (Porter, p. 227).
To ease these daily apocalyptic eruptions of humanity, London had built an underground railroad: almost four miles of dark tunnels through which steam engines bellowed and hissed just a few feet below the thronging crowds (Ransome-Wallis, p. 235). The public had mocked the idea of a "railroad among the sewers" (De Maré, p. 71) when it was proposed, but when the first line opened in 1863 (ibid., p. 73) a decade before Vincent's arrival, everyone hailed it as a wonder straight out of the fantastic tales of the popular French writer Jules Verne. Verne's Le Voyage au centre de la Terre was published the year after the London underground opened (1864); the English edition, A Journey to the Center of the Earth, appeared in 1874. The year of Vincent's arrival, 1873, marked the publication of Verne's Le Tour du monde en quatre-vingt jours (Around the World in Eighty Days) in both French and English. To a country boy with claustrophobia and a fear of the dark, however, nothing could have been stranger or more terrifying than the hellish smoke and sulfurous stench of "the Drain," as Londoners called their new subway (Brouwer, Siesling, and Vis, p. 24). And even though commuters flocked to it by the millions -- ten million in its first year (De Maré, p. 74) -- it had no noticeable effect on the chaos above ground, where, according to Charles Dickens, "the noisy and the eager, and the arrogant and the forward, and the vain, fretted, and chafed, and made their usual uproar" (quoted by Collins, in Dyos and Wolff, eds., pp. 553-554).
Context:
JLB 10, 7/2/1873: "The neighbourhood where I live is very pretty, and so peaceful and convivial that one almost forgets one is in London."
Context:
BVG 9a, 7/2/1873: "The neighbourhood where I live is quite beautiful, and so quiet and intimate that you almost forget you are in London."
JLB 10, 7/2/1873: "The neighbourhood where I live is very pretty, and so peaceful and convivial that one almost forgets one is in London."
Context:
JLB 10, 7/2/1873: "In front of every house is a small garden with flowers or a couple of trees, and many houses are built very tastefully in a sort of Gothic style."
Context:
BVG 9, 6/13/1873: " Everywhere you see charming parks with high trees and shrubs. Everyone is allowed to walk there."
JLB 9, 6/13/1873: " Everywhere one sees splendid parks with tall trees and shrubs, where one is allowed to walk."
Context:
BVG 11, 9/13/1873: "One Saturday some time ago, I went boating on the Thames, in the company of two Englishmen. It was glorious."
JLB 13, 9/13/1873: "Some time ago I spent a Saturday rowing on the Thames with 2 Englishmen. It was glorious."
Context:
BVG 9, 6/13/1873: "There are also three German boarders who are very fond of music, they play the piano and sing, so we spend very pleasant evenings together."
JLB 9, 6/13/1873: "There are also three Germans in the house who really love music and play piano and sing themselves, which makes the evenings very pleasant indeed."
Context:
JLB 9, 6/13/1873: "I've come by a boarding-house that suits me very well for the present. There are also three Germans in the house who really love music and play piano and sing themselves, which makes the evenings very pleasant indeed."
Context:
JLB 9, 6/13/1873: "I've come by a boarding-house that suits me very well for the present. There are also three Germans in the house who really love music and play piano and sing themselves, which makes the evenings very pleasant indeed."
Context:
JLB 9, 6/13/1873: "I also took a nice trip with those Germans, but those gentlemen spend a great deal of money and I shan't go out with them any more."
Context:
JLB 9, 6/13/1873: "Last Sunday I went on an outing with Mr. Obach, my superior, to Box Hill, which is a high hill (some 6 hours from L[ondon].), partly of chalk and covered with box trees, and on one side a wood of tall oak trees."
Context:
BVG 9, 6/13/1873: "The country is beautiful here, quite different from Holland or Belgium."
JLB 9, 6/13/1873: "The countryside here is magnificent, completely different from Holland or Belgium."
The fact that this drawing later came into the possession of Vincent's sister Anna (1914) has been used to argue that Vincent gave this drawing to her while she was in England (1874-76), and therefore it should be dated later, even perhaps to Vincent's second stay in England in 1876 (ibid.). It is more likely (given the always testy relationship between the two eldest Van Gogh siblings) that Vincent sent the drawing home to his parents in 1873 and they in turn gave it to Anna before she left; or that the drawing came into Anna's possession subsequently. Given Vincent's turn to evangelical religion in 1874-75, it is unlikely that he would have chosen this subject or bothered with such an elaborate inscription in 1876.
Context:
JLB 10, 7/2/1873: "One of the nicest things I've seen here is Rotten Row in Hyde Park, which is a long, broad avenue where hundreds of ladies and gentlemen go riding."
Context:
BVG 9a, 7/2/1873: "One of the finest sights I have seen is Rotten Row in Hyde Park …"
JLB 10, 7/2/1873: "One of the nicest things I've seen here is Rotten Row in Hyde Park …"
Context:
BVG 9a, 7/2/1873: "One of the finest sights I have seen is Rotten Row in Hyde Park …"
JLB 10, 7/2/1873: "One of the nicest things I've seen here is Rotten Row in Hyde Park …"
Context:
JLB 5, 3/17/1873: "I'm very curious about the English painters, we see so little of them, because almost everything stays in England."
Context:
JLB 11, 7/20/1873: "Then Boughton, of whom you know the 'Puritans going to church' in our Galerie photographique. I've seen very beautiful things by him."
Context:
JLB 11, 7/20/1873: "There are some good painters here, though, including [John Everett] Millais, who made 'The Huguenot', Ophelia, &c., engravings of which you probably know, they're very beautiful."
Context:
JLB 13, 9/13/1873: "Another English painting is 'Satan possessing the herd of swine at the Gadarene lake'. It showed some 50 black pigs and piglets, running helter-skelter downhill and tumbling over each other into the sea. It was very edifying. This was, however, a very clever painting by Prinsep."
Context:
JLB 305, 1/27/1883: " That Pinwell is reminiscent of Feyen-Perrin -- in his earlier period -- his work also recalls Thijs Maris, but with a yet purer feeling. He was a poet, as strong as could be, he saw the sublime in the most ordinary, everyday things. His work is rare, I saw little by him, but that little was so beautiful that now, 10 years later, it has remained just as clear in my mind as when I first became acquainted with it."
BVG 11a, 10/1/1873. La lune de miel (The Honeymoon) was a print after a painting by Eugène Feyen (JLB 14, 10/16/1873 and 10/31/1873).
Context:
JLB 14, 10/16/1873 and 10/31/1873: "'The honeymoon' is after Eugène Feyen, one of the few painters who paint intimate modern life as it really is and don't turn it into fashion plates."
Context:
JLB 14, 10/16/1873 and 10/31/1873: "'A baptism' is after Albert Anker, a Swiss, who has painted all manner of subjects, all equally sensitive and intimate."
Context:
BVG 11a, 10/1/1873: "The "Lune de Miel" [The Honeymoon] is after Eugene Feyen, one of the few painters who pictures intimate modern life as it really is, and does not turn it into fashion plates."
JLB 14, 10/16/1873 and 10/31/1873: 'The honeymoon' is after Eugène Feyen, one of the few painters who paint intimate modern life as it really is and don't turn it into fashion plates."
Context:
JLB 13, 9/13/1873: "Some time ago I saw one with a sort of fish or dragon no less than 6 ells long. It was ghastly."
Context:
BVG 11, 9/13/1873: "It was a real pleasure to see those Belgian pictures; the English ones are with a few exceptions very bad and uninteresting."
JLB 13, 9/13/1873: "It was truly refreshing to see those Belgian paintings; the English ones are, with few exceptions, very disagreeable and feeble."
Context:
JLB 133, 10/30/1877: "I imagine you know the woodcuts by Swain, he's a clever man, his studio is in such a nice part of London, not far from that part of the Strand where the offices of the illustrated magazines are (Ill. Lond. News, The Graphic, Seeley &c.), not far from Booksellers' Row either, full of all kinds of bookstalls and shops where one sees all kinds of things, from the etchings of Rembrandt to the Household edition of Dickens and Chandos classics everything there has a green cast (especially in foggy weather in the autumn, or during the dark days before Christmas), and it's a place that immediately reminds one of Ephesus, as it is described with such singular simplicity in Acts."
Context:
JLB 307, 2/4/1883: "More than 10 years ago I used to go every week to the display case of the printer of The Graphic and London News in London to see the weekly publications."
Context:
BVG 295, 6/22/1883: "I felt this, especially with English drawings: at first I didn't like them at all, and just like most people here, thought that the English were actually quite wrong; but that did not last, and I have learned to look at things from a different angle."
JLB 356, 6/22/1883: "I did that with the English manner particularly. I didn't find it at all beautiful immediately and first thought, exactly like most people here, that the English were in fact completely wrong, but in my case that didn't last, and I learned to see things from another angle."
Context:
BVG 295, 6/22/1883: "… at first I didn't like them at all …"
JLB 356, 6/22/1883: "I didn't find it at all beautiful immediately …"
Context:
JLB 435, 3/8/1884: "Look out for the Hobbema in the National Gallery -- you certainly won't forget to look at a couple of very fine Constables there (Cornfield) and also in South Kensington (where that farm is, Valley farm)."
Context:
JLB 12, 8/7/1873: "I went with one of the Germans to Dulwich, an hour and a half outside L., to see the museum there, and afterwards we walked to a village about an hour further on."
Context:
JLB 11, 7/20/1873: "Moreover, among the old painters, Constable, a landscape painter who lived around 30 years ago, whose work is splendid, something like Diaz and Daubigny. And Reynolds and Gainsborough, who mostly painted very, very beautiful portraits of women, and then Turner, after whom you'll probably have seen engravings."
Context:
JLB 13, 9/13/1873: "Yesterday I saw an exhibition of Belgian paintings, which included various old acquaintances from the last Brussels Exhibition."
Context:
BVG 11, 9/13/1873: " It was a real pleasure to see those Belgian pictures; the English ones are with a few exceptions very bad and uninteresting."
JLB 13, 9/13/1873: " It was truly refreshing to see those Belgian paintings; the English ones are, with few exceptions, very disagreeable and feeble."
Context:
JLB 15, 11/19/1873: "Ask [Teunus van] Iterson to write to me if he has a moment, and in particular to send me a list of the painters who were awarded prizes at the Paris exhibition."
Context:
JLB 12, 8/7/1873: "I haven't yet been to the Crystal Palace and the Tower, nor to [Madam] Tussaud's; I'm not at all in a hurry to go and see everything. For the time being I have enough with the museums, parks, &c., which attract me more."
Context:
JLB 303, 1/20/1883: "There you have 3 prints that I hadn't seen in 10 years."
Context:
JLB 284, 11/18/1882: "I know the Boughton, 'The heir' , as a painting. I saw it at the Royal Academy and later at Goupil's. At that time I found it so beautiful that I made a drawing of it for an acquaintance in Holland to give him some idea of it."
Context:
JLB 284, 11/18/1882: "At that time I found it so beautiful that I made a drawing of it for an acquaintance in Holland to give him some idea of it."
Context:
JLB 9, 6/13/1873: "I live in one of the suburbs of London, where it's comparatively quiet. It's a bit like Tilburg or some such place."
Context:
BVG 10, 7/20/1873: "Still, I often think with regret of the delightful Sundays at Scheveningen and other things, but what's the use of worrying?"
JLB 11, 7/20/1873: "And yet I sometimes think back with nostalgia to the wonderful Sundays in Scheveningen and so on, but never mind that."
Context:
BVG 9a, 7/2/1873: "Yet I do not forget The Hague, and should very, very much like to spend an evening in the Poten, and look in on you, too."
JLB 10, 7/2/1873: "Still, I haven't forgotten The Hague and should very, very much like to spend another evening in the Poten, and also look in on you."
Context:
JLB 13, 9/13/1873: "I'm very curious to hear whether you went to Helvoirt on Ma's birthday and how it was there."
Context:
JLB 15, 11/19/1873: "You'll have had some pleasant days at home; how much I'd like to see them all again too."
Two other early acquaintances, Read and Richardson (see Ch. 6, n. 122), are not mentioned again until 1876 when Vincent claimed them as “old friends by now” (JLB 93, 10/7/1876-10/8/1876). In 1881, when Theo was planning a trip to London, Vincent asked him to “give my kind regards to my old mates George Read and Richardson,” and waxed strangely poetic about Read, whom he called “a very ordinary person,” but made of that ordinariness a kind of distinction – like an especially loyal pet: “He perhaps doesn’t particularly distinguish himself, whether in business or in knowledge, but as a person and character, if one knows him rather intimately, there is no more faithful, more kind, more sensitive chap than he. He’s so nice and so witty and so capable in domestic life that in that respect he’s worth a lot as a friend. If I were allowed to choose whom I should most like to see again from those I became acquainted with in England, it would definitely be George Read” (JLB 177, 10/17/1881). It is difficult to understand this odd, belated, and somewhat patronizing paean. Vincent’s relationship with Read may have intensified after Vincent’s alienation from his family in 1874; they may have shared a religious fervor at that time; or Vincent may simply be exaggerating in hindsight, as he was wont to do.
In addition to Richardson and Read, Vincent later claimed as friends in London Elbert van Wisselingh, the son of a prominent Dutch art dealer who had a store in London and who later worked at Goupil (Boussod & Valadon) in Paris (JLB 206, 2/25/1882); an unnamed employee of Mr. Wallis (presumably Thomas Wallis), the London dealer; and Mr. Wallis himself (JLB 93, 10/7/1876-10/8/1876). Vincent also later claimed as an acquaintance a “young clergyman” who preached in or near the Strand (ibid.). Despite these later and probably inflated reports, in Vincent’s letters at the time (1873-1875), even the word “friend” virtually disappeared. In fact, during his years in London, Vincent rarely used the word “vriend” (friend) and then only when referring to those he left behind in Holland (e.g., “give my regards to all my friends” [JLB 23, 6/16/1874]).
Context:
JLB 5, 3/17/1873: "I think it's wonderful for my English, which I understand well, though I don't speak it nearly as well as I'd like."
Context:
BVG 165, 12/22/1881-12/24/1881: "In the long run I do not think you would like it there, at least it becomes clearer and clearer to me that I never felt in my element there."
JLB 177, 10/17/1881: "But in the long run I don't think you'd feel at home there, at least it's becoming increasingly clear to me that, speaking for myself, I wasn't really in my element there."
Context:
JLB 12, 8/7/1873: "I haven't yet been to the Crystal Palace and the Tower, nor to Tussaud's; I'm not at all in a hurry to go and see everything."
Context:
JLB 10, 7/2/1873: "I'm already finished with my work at 6 o'clock, so I still have a fair amount of time for myself, which I spend very pleasantly walking, reading and writing letters."
Context:
BVG 9a, 7/2/1873: "At six o'clock my work is already done for the day, so that I have a nice bit of time for myself, which I spend pleasantly -- taking walks, reading and letter-writing." JLB 10, 7/2/1873: "I'm already finished with my work at 6 o'clock, so I still have a fair amount of time for myself, which I spend very pleasantly walking, reading and writing letters."
Context:
JLB 12, 8/7/1873: "A day or two ago I had a visit from a brother of Iterson who lives here, and so had the first opportunity of speaking Dutch since May. We live a long way from each other, which I very much regret."
Context:
BVG 332, 10/12/1883: "I must look into my own past to find why I lived in that stony, arid mood for years, and why it became worse instead of better, though I tried to remedy it. Not only did I feel hardened instead of sensitive toward nature, but, much worse still, I felt exactly the same toward people."
JLB 394, 10/12/1883: "I now have to look back into my own past to see what the matter was, spending years in that stony, barren state of mind and trying to emerge from it, and yet it got worse and worse instead of better. Not only did I feel indifferent instead of responsive to nature but also, which was much worse, I felt exactly the same about people."
Context:
BVG 12, 11/19/1873: "I have a pleasant home, and although the house here is not so interesting as the one in The Hague, it is perhaps well that I am here."
JLB 15, 11/19/1873: "Things are going all right for me here, I have a nice home, and even though the firm isn't as exciting as the Hague branch, it's perhaps good that I'm here …"
Context:
JLB 9, 6/13/1873: "Write to me soon, I'm longing to hear from you, and tell me how you're spending your days at present, &c. Write to me especially about the paintings you've seen recently, and also whether anything new has been published in the way of etchings or lithographs. You must keep me well informed about this, because here I don't see much in that genre, as the firm here is just a stockroom."
Context:
JLB 10, 7/2/1873: "This branch is just a stockroom and is therefore completely different from working in The Hague, though I'm sure I'll get used to it."
Context:
JLB 15, 11/19/1873: "The Musée Goupil & Cie photos we sell only en papillottes, around 100 a day on average."
Context:
JLB 17, January, 1874: "We're busy in the office, we're occupied with the inventory, which is however drawn up in 5 days, so we have it a little easier than you do in The Hague."
Context:
BVG 12, 11/19/1873: "I think there is still much work to do here in England, but it will not be successful at once. Of course, the first thing necessary is to have good pictures, and that will be quite difficult."
JLB 15, 11/19/1873: "I believe that there's still a lot to do here in England, but it can't be done all at once, and of course the first thing we need is to have good paintings &c., and that will be quite a feat."
Context:
BVG 9, 6/13/1873: "You must tell me especially what pictures you have seen lately, and also if any new etchings or lithographs have been published. Let me know as much as you can about these things, for I do not see much of them here as it is only a wholesale house."
JLB 9, 6/13/1873: "Write to me especially about the paintings you've seen recently, and also whether anything new has been published in the way of etchings or lithographs. You must keep me well informed about this, because here I don't see much in that genre, as the firm here is just a stockroom.
Context:
BVG 332, 10/12/1883: "I do not believe somebody like -- (?) for instance--who proved really to be insane -- thought that way, and therefore I repeat, I have often thought those years of grubbing over, but I do not see how in those circumstances I could have been different from what I was."
JLB 394, 10/12/1883: "I don't believe that someone like [Marius] Boks, for instance, who really turned out to be mad, thought like that -- so I say again, I've thought about it a lot since, about my years of all sorts of scrambling, and I don't see that, given my circumstances, I could be other than I have been." (Emphasis in original.)
Context:
BVG 10a, 8/7/1873: "But moving is so horrible that I shall stop here as long as possible, although everything is not so beautiful as it seemed to me in the beginning. Perhaps it is my own fault."
JLB 12, 8/7/1873: "But I find moving so terrible that I'll stay here as long as possible, though things aren't as nice here as they seemed at first. Perhaps this is my fault."
Context:
JLB 12, 8/7/1873: "Perhaps I'll soon be doing that as well, if I can find a cheap room somewhere. But I find moving so terrible that I'll stay here as long as possible, though things aren't as nice here as they seemed at first. Perhaps this is my fault, so I'll wait a little longer."
Context:
BVG 12, 11/19/1873: "Later on, especially when the sale of pictures grows more important, I shall perhaps be of use."
JLB 15, 11/19/1873: "… later on especially, when the trade in paintings becomes a little more important, I'll possibly be of use."
Context:
BVG 12, 11/19/1873: "Later on, especially when the sale of pictures grows more important, I shall perhaps be of use."
JLB 15, 11/19/1873: "… later on especially, when the trade in paintings becomes a little more important, I'll possibly be of use."
Context:
BVG 332, 10/12/1883: "It has not been so. I spoke once or twice to Thijs Maris. I dared not speak to Boughton because his presence overawed me; but I did not find it there either, that help with the very first things, the ABC."
JLB 394, 10/12/1883: "It didn't happen then -- I did talk to Thijs Maris occasionally (I didn't dare speak to Boughton, because I felt such great respect in his presence) but I didn't find it there either, that helping me with the first things, with the ABC." (Emphasis in original.)
Context:
JLB 12, 8/7/1873: "The countryside here is so beautiful; many people who have their business in L. live in some village or other outside L. and come to the city every day by train. Perhaps I'll soon be doing that as well, if I can find a cheap room somewhere."
A letter from Vincent to his parents in June apparently said nothing that merited optimism and perhaps something that merited the opposite (JLB 9, 6/13/1873). Dorus wrote cryptically to Theo on June 14: "Everything [in London] still feels so strange [to Vincent]" (b2634 V/1982, "Gogh, Theodorus en Anna C. van" to "Gogh, Theo van", 6/14/1873), and again on July 2, as if he had something specific in mind, "he [Vincent] does not feel at home in his work yet" (b2639 V/1982, "Gogh, Theodorus van" to "Gogh, Theo van", 7/2/1873). But he also reassured Theo, "in his letters he [Vincent] sounds content." On July 15, Uncle Cent stopped in Helvoirt and gave Dorus and Anna "positive news about Vincent" (b2644 V/1982, "Gogh, Theodorus en Anna C. van" to "Gogh, Theo van", 7/19/1873). In early August, even as Vincent was telling Theo that he could barely stand his work (JLB 12, 8/7/1873), his parents received "another good letter from Vincent" (b2649 V/1982, "Gogh, Theodorus van" to "Gogh, Theo van", 8/6/1873). "He seems to like his work very much," Dorus wrote (b2649 V/1982, "Gogh, Theodorus van" to "Gogh, Theo van", 8/6/1873). Later in August, Dorus added, "nothing but good news from Vincent" (b2660 V/1982, "Gogh, Theodorus van" to "Gogh, Theo van", 8/15/1873).
Context:
JLB 9, 6/13/1873: "I'm very well, considering the circumstances."
Context:
BVG 9a, 7/2/1873: "The business here is only a stockroom, and our work is quite different from what it is in The Hague; but I shall probably get used to it."
JLB 10, 7/2/1873: "This branch is just a stockroom and is therefore completely different from working in The Hague, though I'm sure I'll get used to it."
Context:
BVG 10a, 8/7/1873: "Perhaps it is my own fault, so I shall bear with it a little longer."
JLB 12, 8/7/1873: "Perhaps this is my fault, so I'll wait a little longer."
Context:
JLB 14, 10/16/1873 and 10/31/1873: "I know the photo of 'The landlady's daughter' and I find it very beautiful. It's good that you find Bouguereau beautiful."
Context:
JLB 14, 10/16/1873 and 10/31/1873: "'The honeymoon' is after Eugène Feyen, one of the few painters who paint intimate modern life as it really is and don't turn it into fashion plates."
Context:
JLB 14, 10/16/1873 and 10/31/1873: "I know the photo of 'The landlady's daughter' and I find it very beautiful. It's good that you find Bouguereau beautiful"
Context:
JLB 12, 8/7/1873:
"The eve of Saint Mark"
(Unfinished)
Upon a Sabbath day it fell;
Twice holy was the Sabbath bell,
That called the folk to evening prayer;
The city streets were clear and fair
From wholesome drench of April rains;
And, on the western window panes,
The chilly sunset faintly told
Of unmatured green, vallies cold,
Of the green thorny bloomless hedge,
Of rivers new with spring-tide sedge,
Of primroses by shelter'd rills,
Of daisies on the aguish hills.
Twice holy was the Sabbath-bell:
The silent streets were crowded well
With staid and pious companies,
Warm from their fire-side orat'ries;
And moving, with demurest air
To even-song, and vesper prayer.
Each arched porch, and entry low,
Was fill'd with patient folk and slow,
With whispers hush and shuffling feet,
While played the organ, loud and sweet.
The bells had ceased, the prayers begun,
And Bertha had not yet half done
A curious volume, patch'd and torn,
That all day long, from earliest morn,
Had taken captive her two eyes,
Among its golden broideries;
Perplexed her with a thousand things,
The stars of Heaven, and angels' wings,
Martyrs in a fiery blaze,
Azure saints and silver rays
Moses' breastplate, and the seven
Candlesticks John saw in Heaven,
The winged lion of Saint Mark,
And the covenantal Ark,
With its many mysteries
Cherubim and golden mice.
Bertha was a maiden fair,
Dwelling in th' old minster-square;
From her fireside she could see,
Sidelong, its rich antiquity,
Far as the Bishops gardenwall;
Where sycamores and elm trees tall,
Full leaved, the forest had outstript,
By no sharp north wind ever nipt,
So shelter'd by the mighty pile,
Bertha arose and read awhile,
With forehead 'gainst the window pane.
Again she tried and tried again,
Until the dusk eve left her dark
Upon the legend of St Mark.
From plaited lawn-frill, fine and thin,
She lifted up her soft warm chin,
With aching neck and swimming eyes
And dazed with saintly imag'ries.
All was gloom, and silent all
Save now and then the still foot-fall
Of one returning homewards late,
Past the echoing minster-gate.
The clamorous daws, that all the day
Above tree tops and towers play,
Pair by pair had gone to rest,
Each in its ancient belfry-nest,
Where asleep they fall betimes
To music and the drowsy chimes.
All was silent, all was gloom,
Abroad and in the homely room:
Down she sat, poor cheated soul!
And struck a lamp from the dismal coal;
Leaned forward, with bright drooping hair,
And slant book, full against the glare.
Her shadow, in uneasy guise,
Hover'd about, a giant size,
On ceiling beam and old oak chair,
The parrot's cage, and panel square;
And the warm angled winter-screen,
On which were many monsters seen,
Call'd doves of Siam, Lima mice,
And legless birds of Paradise,
Macaw, and tender Av'davat,
And silken-furr'd Angora cat.
Untired she read, her shadow still
Glower'd about, as it would fill
The room with wildest forms and shades,
As though some ghostly queen of spades
Had come to mock behind her back
And dance, and ruffle her garments black.
Untired she read the legend page,
Of holy Mark, from youth to age,
On land, on sea, in pagan chains,
Rejoicing for his many pains.
Sometimes the learned eremite,
With golden star, or dagger bright,
Referr'd to pious poesies
Written in smallest crow-quill size
Beneath the text; and thus the rhyme
Was parcell'd out from time to time:
................................................................
................................................................
John Keats (1818)
Context: BVG 10a, 8/7/1873: "Bertha was a maiden fair, Dwelling in the old Minister-square …"
JLB 12, 8/7/1873: "Bertha was a maiden fair, Dwelling in th' old minster-square …"
Context:
BVG 10a, 8/7/1873: "Lean'd forward, with bright drooping hair, And slant book, full against the glare."
JLB 12, 8/7/1873: "Leaned forward, with bright drooping hair, And slant book, full against the glare."
Recently, scholars have argued for a more tragic ending. Herbert G. Wright emphasizes the poem's ambiguous conclusion -- where the couple is lost in the storm. Death -- an ever present force -- bears down on the couple in the form of a raging tempest (Wright, pp. 90-94). Michael Ragussis argues that this bleak ending is a deliberate awakening of the narrator out of the blissful creation of a "happy romance" (Ragussis, p. 378). Shifting between past and present tense, the narrator blurs the line between fantasy and reality, and only in the poem's conclusion do both narrator and reader acknowledge that the lovers are gone. Here the lovers' happy ending dissolves: "And they are gone: ay, ages long ago / These lovers fled away into the storm." The detachment achieved by a "long ago" era matches the distancing effect of the violent storm -- which like time itself must inevitably engulf even the happiest couples (Ragussis, p. 383). But it is highly unlikely that Vincent would have read into the poem the revised interpretation.
Context:
JLB 12, 8/7/1873: "His most famous piece is 'St Agnes' eve', but it's rather too long to copy out."
Context:
BVG 11a, 10/1/1873: "She reminds me of the lady by Philippe de Champagne (N.B. in the Louvre), who took my heart, so candid, so honest, sufficiently intelligent, yet simple, without the cunning to extricate herself from the ruses of the world. This woman has remained in my mind for thirty years …"
JLB 14, 10/16/1873 and 10/31/1873: "She reminds me of a lady by Philippe de Champaigne (NB in the Louvre), who had found her way into my heart, so ingenuous, so honest, sufficiently intelligent, yet simple, without the subtlety to extricate herself from the snares of the world. This woman has remained with me for thirty years …"
Context:
JLB 18, 2/9/1874: "What happy days those were 'when we were together'. You must know that I haven't forgotten you"
Context:
JLB 14, 10/16/1873 and 10/31/1873: "'Puritans going to church' is after Boughton, one of the best painters here; an American, he's very fond of Longfellow, and rightly so. I know 3 paintings by him based on 'The courtship of Miles Standish'. Seeing the paintings prompted me to read Miles Standish and Evangeline again, I don't know why, but I never knew they were as beautiful as I find them now."
Context:
BVG 13a, 2/9/1874: "And as a homeland, the whole world, i.e. a small spot in the world where we are sent to stay. We have not got there yet, though I am straining after it, and perhaps may grasp it."
JLB 18, 2/9/1874: "With the world as my mother country, meaning that tiny spot in the world where we're set down. But we aren’t there yet, but I follow after, if that I may apprehend."
Context:
BVG 13a, 2/9/1874: "And as a homeland, the whole world, i.e. a small spot in the world where we are sent to stay."
JLB 18, 2/9/1874: "With the world as my mother country, meaning that tiny spot in the world where we're set down."
Context:
JLB 18, 2/9/1874: "But we aren't there yet, but I follow after, if that I may apprehend."
Context:
JLB 99, 11/25/1876: "I also went to Mr. Obach's to see his wife and children again."
Context:
JLB 22, 4/30/1874: "I enjoy the walk from home to the office and in the evening from the office back home. It takes about three-quarters of an hour."
Context:
JLB 99, 11/25/1876: "Her name is written in the book of life."
Although Bonger referred to Jean-Baptiste Loyer as "a curate from the South of France" (Van Gogh-Bonger, p. xxiv), and others have picked up on that cue ("the French Curate"), it is not at all clear if he was born a Protestant or converted from Catholicism, the dominant religion of France. If, as Bailey maintains (and we agree), the story in Vincent's album to Lies is a rough account of Jean-Baptiste's life (Bailey, "Vincent van Gogh, the Writer," p. 16), then his deathbed acquiescence to Catholic last rites strongly suggests that Catholicism was the religion of his birth and probably of his upbringing (Du Quense-van Gogh, p. 58). After arriving in London, he may have been required to embrace Protestantism in order to teach at the Stockwell Grammar School (Bailey, Young Vincent, p. 29). Originally a separate village, Stockwell is now a small district just north of Brixton, only a few blocks south of the Loyer house on Hackford Road where Vincent lodged.
Context:
BVG 11, 9/13/1873: " I now have a bedroom such as I always longed for, without a sloping ceiling and without blue wallpaper with green fringes."
JLB 13, 9/13/1873: " I now have a room, as I've long been wishing, without sloping beams and without blue wallpaper with a green border."
Context:
BVG 11, 9/13/1873: " Oh! -- Old man, I so want that you come here to see my new lodgings, the one I have already spoken about to you."
JLB 13, 9/13/1873: " Oh, how I'd like to have you here, old chap, to see my new lodgings, which you'll have heard about."
Context:
JLB 22, 4/30/1874: "I'm doing a lot of gardening and have sown sweet peas, poppies and reseda, now we just have to wait and see what comes of it."
Context:
JLB 132, 10/21/1877: "How beautiful the winter chrysanthemums in London will be in the little gardens, and they bloom there the whole winter long."
Context:
JLB 17, January, 1874: "I hope you had a nice Christmas, just as I did."
At this early point, their relationship was no doubt correctly warm but not enthusiastic; eventually, it would become bitterly antagonistic. Yet Vincent did sympathize with Anna's unhappiness at school. Anna wrote Theo (and presumably Vincent) from school: “I should like to run away from here” (b2679 V/1982, “Gogh, Anna van” to “Gogh, Theo van”, 1/6/1874). Like both Vincent and Theo, Anna was painfully aware of the cost of her schooling: “I will be happy when the school-life will be over; then [Lies] can go to school because they won't have to pay for me” (b2689 V/1982, “Gogh, Anna van” to “Gogh, Theo van”, 2/24/1874). Vincent also resented his parents' relentless push for more education. “Pa and Ma have suggested that she stay at school,” he wrote in October, “but if she'd rather not she needn't do it” (JLB 14, 10/16/1873 and 10/31/1873). That Anna’s schooling cost their parents money they could not afford no doubt also resonated with Vincent’s broader guilt over the events of the previous winter.
Context:
JLB 14, 10/16/1873 and 10/31/1873: "Our Anna has passed her examinations in English and in needlework, you can imagine how delighted she and all of us are. Pa and Ma have suggested that she stay at school until next April, and in that case attempt French, but if she'd rather not she needn't do it. I'd like it so much if something could be found for her here; we've talked about this before, as you know."
Context:
JLB 26, 7/21/1874: "I believe there's more chance of her finding something here than in Holland" (emphasis in original).
Context:
BVG 14a, 3/3/1874: "Now I have something new to tell you; perhaps our Anna will come here. You can well imagine how wonderful this would be for me."
JLB 20, 3/3/1874: "Now I have a piece of news for you; our Anna will perhaps be coming here. You can imagine how wonderful that would be for me, but it's almost too good to be true."
Where Vincent always sent gifts that reflected his own obsession of the moment, Theo had a salesman's eye for gifts that pleased the recipient (b2702 V/1982, "Gogh-Carbentus, Anna C. van" to "Gogh, Theo van", 5/19/1874). Exquisitely sensitive to the moods of those around him, he understood the value of small kindnesses: a well-timed note or an unexpected favor (b2716 V/1982, "Gogh, Elisabeth van" to "Gogh, Theo van", 8/30/1874). In January 1874, for example, he surprised his dispirited sister Anna at the train station in Utrecht and took her out to lunch (b2679 V/1982, "Gogh, Anna van" to "Gogh, Theo van", 1/6/1874). Such thoughtfulness had made him the favorite of his siblings (ibid.). "What a nice print you sent me," Anna wrote Theo after her birthday in 1874 (b2689 V/1982, "Gogh, Anna van" to "Gogh, Theo van", 2/24/1874). "Everyone admired it very much. I got one from Vincent too but it is not as nice as yours" (ibid.). Fourteen-year-old Lies looked up to Theo, not Vincent: "I like to study," she wrote Theo in 1875, "because it will make me independent one day, just like you" (b2330 V/1982, "Gogh, Elisabeth van" to "Gogh, Theo van", 4/11/1875).
Context:
JLB 17, January, 1874: "I know that things are going well for you in the office, because I heard as much from Mr. Tersteeg."
Context:
BVG 15, 3/30/1874: "I was pleased to hear that you are doing so well."
JLB 21, 3/30/1874: "I'm glad that you're so well."
Context:
BVG 14, 2/20/1874: "I am all right and am very busy."
JLB 19, 2/20/1874: "I'm all right, I'm busy."
Context:
BVG 5, 3/17/1873: "Be sure to tell me more about the pictures you see."
JLB 5, 3/17/1873: "Above all, you must write more about the kind of things you see."
Context:
BVG 17, 6/16/1874: "I am also anxious to have a good talk with you about art; think it over and perhaps you will have some questions to put to me."
JLB 23, 6/16/1874: "I'm also looking forward to having a good talk with you about art, start thinking about any questions you might want to put to me."
Anna was also a student of "true love" -- i.e., the kind she found in books. A year later, Anna explained her preference for the sentimental love poetry of Tennyson (Excelsior) and Longfellow (Courtship of Miles Standish) over the more erotic love poetry of Byron: "They speak more to the soul than the beautiful, powerful verses, which are not always the revelations of a great mind but, in my opinion, of an impure soul. I believe that Byron is one of those, the kind of which Jesus said, "He shall be forgiven much, because he has loved much." (b2333 V/1982, "Gogh, Anna van" to "Gogh, Theo van", 4/28/1875.) Given this predilection, it is hardly surprising that Anna's suspicion of a romantic liaison between Vincent and Eugénie was not at all discouraged by Vincent's relentless portrayal of their relationship as "like that between brother and sister" (see Ch. 6, n. 221). Indeed, Anna responded by comparing the love between Vincent and Eugenie to that between David Copperfield and his "sister" Agnes (b2679 V/1982, "Gogh, Anna van" to "Gogh, Theo van", 1/6/1874). Although David and Agnes grow to love each other "like siblings," when they discover that they are not true siblings, they promptly marry, bringing Dickens' novel to the usual happy, inevitable, and improbable conclusion.
It is impossible that Anna did not share this literary comparison and romantic calculus with her parents. Anna's letters show her to be catty, prudish, censorious, sensitive to criticism, incapable of keeping a secret, and a tattle. In a typical remark (about this time), when Theo inquired her opinion of a woman whom he was considering courting, Anna replied: "she considers you as a little boy and herself as a lady -- no young lady -- or she does something that is not comme-il-faut. The first I know she doesn't, for she always liked to seem younger than she really was ... I believe you will be angry at what I say; for you had wished that I would say that she was an amiable loving girl, but remember you asked me to be sincere." (b2680 V/1982, "Gogh, Anna van" to "Gogh, Theo van", 1/20/1874.)
Here is the only other tangential support for this sweeping statement that we can find: (1) Anna's comment “I hope Vincent is looking better” two months after his visit (b2722 V/1982, “Gogh, Theodorus en Anna C. van” to “Gogh, Theo van”, 9/21/1874), although this probably also refers to his thinness and perhaps his clothing; (2) Dorus's description of Vincent's mood as “dejected” in a later letter to Theo (b2723 V/1982, “Gogh, Theodorus en Anna C. van” to “Gogh, Theo van”, 10/2/1874), although this description appears to be based on Vincent’s mood at the time of writing, almost three months after the summer visit: in particular, some unfriendly letters from Vincent in the interim and a worrisome slowdown in correspondence; (3) An even later letter from Anna in which she recalls that Vincent “already wasn't himself anymore this summer” (b2723 V/1982, ''Gogh, Theodorus en Anna C. van'' to ''Gogh, Theo `van'', 10/2/1874); (4) Dorus's recollection in the same later letter to Theo that Vincent was “grousing about the London fog” (ibid.); and (5) The comment recorded by Stokvis, apparently from the tailor Frederik van de Plas, that Vincent was “strikingly quiet” (Stokvis, Nasporingen omtrentVincent van Gogh in Brabant, p. 15), although Stokvis is unclear whether this observation applies to Vincent's 1874 visit and/or a different visit.
In any event, the argument in the text about the origin of the alienation Vincent felt in Helvoirt in the summer of 1874 is consistent with all of the relevant observations (by Stokvis, Dorus, and Anna), and does not demand the grand, romantic leap of speculation that Bonger's story does. It is possible, although unlikely given the Van Gogh reluctance to discuss such matters, that Bonger had other, undisclosed sources for her story.
Five days after Theo left Helvoirt, Vincent wrote him a short, perfunctory note responding to “information” from Theo (apparently equally brief) about when Vincent and Anna would leave for London (JLB 25, 7/10/1874). The letter (a note, really) concluded with a few sentences about specific prints. The tone is notably formal and curt (especially given how much free time Vincent had in Helvoirt). When Vincent next wrote from London, his tone improved somewhat, although the letter was still short and concerned mostly with business (JLB 26, 7/21/1874). He appears to gloat over his success in bringing Anna to London. There is also a reference to Theo's reading of a book by Jules Michelet (probably L'amour), apparently a topic that Theo had broached in his previous letter. The next letter was longer and friendlier and included several confidences (“entre nous”) (JLB 27, 7/31/1874). The subject of women had obviously been raised, breaking the ice of the previous, passing chill. It would preoccupy the brothers' correspondence for the rest of the year.
Context:
JLB 27, 7/31/1874: "Anna is managing well, we go on wonderful walks together. It's so beautiful here, if only one has a good and a single eye, without many beams in it."
Context:
BVG 20, 7/31/1874: "You can imagine how delighted I am to be here together with Anna."
JLB 27, 7/31/1874: " You can imagine how wonderful it is for me to be here with Anna."
Context:
JLB 26, 7/21/1874: "I'm learning to swim."
Subsequent biographers have scoured the letters for possible oblique references to a relationship. They have proposed two, both dating from seven years later when Vincent was in the throes of an unreciprocated love for his cousin, Kee Vos: (1) "When I was younger, one half of me once fancied that I was in love, and with the other half I really was. The result was many years of humiliation. Let me not have been humiliated in vain." (BVG 156, 11/10/1881-11/11/1881.) (2) "But just because love is so strong, generally in our youth (I mean at 17, 18, or 20 years) we are not strong enough to keep it going straight! The passions are the little ship's sails, you know. And he who gives way entirely to his feelings in his twentieth year catches too much wind and his boat takes in too much water and -- and he sinks -- or comes to the surface again after all ... The first case -- that of the man whose little boat capsized when he was twenty years old, and sank, did it not? ... is really that of your brother Vincent ... What kind of love was it that I felt when I was twenty? It is difficult to define -- my physical passions were very weak then, perhaps because of a few years of great poverty and hard work. But my intellectual passions were strong, meaning that without asking anything in return, without wanting any pity, I wanted only to give, but not to receive. Foolish, wrong, exaggerated, proud, rash ... So I fell, but it was a wonder that I got up again ... I got a deeper insight into my own heart and also into that of others. Gradually I began to love my fellow men again, myself included, and more and more my heart and soul -- which for a time had been withered, blighted and stricken through all kinds of great misery -- revived. And the more I turned to reality, and mingled with people, the more I felt new life reviving in me, until at last I met her [Kee Vos]." (BVG 157, 11/12/1881.)
These passages (especially the latter), like all of Vincent's perorations, should be read in light of their purpose -- in this case, an all-out effort to enlist Theo in his suit of Kee Vos against both families' opposition -- and discounted accordingly. As discussed in the previous chapter, we agree with Cassee that these passages refer to Vincent's infatuation with Caroline Haanebeek in The Hague in the period 1872-73, when Vincent was nineteen and twenty (Cassee, p. 110). In addition to Cassee's arguments, we believe that Vincent would not have written in this hyperventilating shorthand ("... did it not?") about an affair (with Loyer) with which Theo was, as far as we know, unfamiliar. Theo was, however, very familiar with Caroline Haanebeek. Also, there was an obvious parallel between the "cousin" Caroline and the cousin Kee. Finally, ten years later, Vincent made it clear that even if there was a romantic relationship with Eugenie, it was not the seminal life event described previously by Bonger. In 1884, he wrote, "It is true that I myself have twice met with great sorrow, sorrow of a totally divergent nature" (BVG 377, September 1884; emphasis added). The context leaves no doubt that he was referring to Kee Vos and Sien Hoornik, not to either Caroline Haanebeek or Eugenie Loyer.
Here is the JLB translation of the passages discussed in this note: (1) "When I was younger I once half-imagined that I loved, while the other half truly loved, the result being many years of humiliation. May I not then have been humiliated too much in vain."(JLB 182, 11/10/1881 or 11/11/1881.) (2) "But precisely because love is so strong, we are, especially in our youth (I mean now, 17, 18, 20 years old), usually not strong enough to maintain a straight course. The passions are the ship's sails, you see. And someone of 20 who gives himself over completely to his feelings catches too much wind and his boat fills with water and -- and he founders or ... he surfaces again … The first case, that of the man whose little boat capsized in his 20th year or thereabouts and perished, did it not? -- or no -- surfaced again recently -- is actually that of your brother V ... What kind of love did I have in my 20th year? Difficult to define, my physical passions were very weak then, perhaps owing to a couple of years of dreadful poverty and hard work. But my intellectual passions were strong, and by that I mean that I was determined, without asking anything in return or accepting any favours, only to give but not to receive. Absurd, wrong, exaggerated, haughty, arrogant. For in matters of love one mustn't only take but also give, and conversely, not only give but also take. He who turns aside to the right hand or to the left falls, there is no mercy for him. So I fell, and it was a miracle that I found my footing again. ... I learned to look more deeply into my own heart and also into that of others. Gradually I began to love people again, myself included, and with each passing day I regained a little heart and spirit which for a time had been destroyed and withered and devastated, so to speak, by all manner of great misery. And the more I returned to real life and was among people, the more new life awoke in me until finally I met her [Kee Vos]." (JLB 183, 11/12/1881; emphasis in original.)
We agree that there is a possibility that Vincent proposed -- although, if so, it almost certainly was after his return in July, not earlier in the year, compressing courtship, proposal, and rejection in one blinding stroke of delusion (exactly what happened seven years later with his cousin Kee Vos). Given Vincent’s contrariness and emotional immaturity, we can imagine that, on returning from his disapproving parents, his brotherly affection for Eugénie was transformed suddenly into something more urgent and intimate because of his parents' disapproval. This, too, parallels the Kee Vos incident: it was not until his family opposed the suit that Vincent became obsessed with it. The awkwardness created by such a sudden transformation could well have prompted Vincent’s departure from Hackford Road. There is, of course, not a scintilla of evidence for this version of events, either; credible though it may be.
Context:
BVG 20, 7/31/1874: "Entre nous, I think it will be very difficult to find something for her, they say everywhere that she is too young, and generally German is required, but at all events, she has more chances here than in Holland. Adieu."
JLB 27, 7/31/1874: "Between you and me, I think we'll have trouble finding something for her, everywhere they say she's too young and they require German as well, but at any rate she certainly has more of a chance here than in Holland. Adieu."
Context:
JLB 27, 7/31/1874: "My passion for drawing has again vanished here in England, but maybe inspiration will strike again one day. I'm reading a lot again."
Vincent's taste in art also took a nostalgic turn, as he became preoccupied by Thijs Maris's moody scenes of canals, barges, and drawbridges from his mythic homeland (JLB 31, 4/6/1875). One Maris painting, Souvenir d'Amsterdam (1871), in particular, made an vivid impression on him. He recalled it in detail seven months later: "An old Dutch town with rows of brownish red houses with step-gables and tall flights of steps, grey roofs, and white or yellow doors, window-frames and cornices; canals with ships and a large white drawbridge, a barge with a man at the tiller going under it. The little house of the bridge-keeper, whom one sees through the window, sitting in his office. Some distance away a stone bridge over the canal, with people and a cart with white horses crossing it." (JLB 31, 4/6/1875.) Vincent says only that he saw this painting "some time ago," but because it reminded him of a poem by Heine (Meeresstille [Calm Sea]), and because he was reading Heine at this time, we believe this is an appropriate dating for his encounter with this Maris image (ibid.).
Context:
JLB 27, 7/31/1874: "I'm reading a lot again."
The text does not mention -- and certainly Vincent did not admit to -- drinking excessively during this period. But, given his later alcoholism, the inference is unavoidable. Hippolyte Taine memorably described the back streets of London as a shadow-world of “beggars, thieves and prostitutes ... grating music from gin cellars ... fights between women ... men in the most astonishing rags ... as if a human sewer were suddenly clearing itself” (Taine, p. 33). For people who roamed this dystopian world, said Taine, “there is only one refuge: drunkenness” (ibid., p. 34). In fact, Vincent had arrived in London during an “epidemic” of public drinking (Inwood, pp. 686-687). According to Ackroyd (p. 356), more than half a million Londoners sought refuge in drink at least once a day. At times, the streets themselves smelled of liquor, according to one contemporary account, since everyone “drinks heavily and incessantly.” (ibid., p. 426) There were more than twenty thousand places to buy liquor in “Thirsty London” (Ackroyd, p. 356); from fancy hotels, to private saloons, to ubiquitous public houses (“pubs”), to gin palaces specializing in the popular “blue ruin” (De Maré, p. 114), to illegal backrooms with peepholes and secret signals -- sixty years before Prohibition brought speakeasies to America (Inwood, p. 602). In a single, mile-long stretch of the Strand where Vincent walked home every evening, scores of pubs, private saloons, and gin palaces beckoned him to enjoy the escape of inebriation. (Inwood, p. 655)
In this “town of Malt and Hops,” it was impossible for anyone to avoid contact with the easy consolation of alcohol. (Ackroyd, p. 356). And if his later life is any indication, Vincent could not have resisted it. For him, drinking had the same calming effect as work, described by Taine in a passage that could have been written about Vincent: “to shut the door on the melancholy influence of a hostile world, to fill up the great void where melancholy and boredom might find lodgement” (Taine, p. 10).
Context:
BVG 21, 8/10/1874: "You know the 'Margaret at the Fountain,' by Ary Scheffer, is there a purer being than that girl 'who loved so much'?"
JLB 28, 8/10/1874: "You know the Margaret at the fountain by Ary Scheffer; is there a purer being than that girl 'who loved so much'?"
Context:
JLB 28, 8/10/1874: "Purity of soul and impurity of body can go together."
A letter from Theo’s sister Anna suggests that Theo had asked if Anna thought it was appropriate for an older woman to pay a visit on a younger gentleman (Annet Haanebeek was six years older than Theo) (b2680 V/1982, “Gogh, Anna van” to “Gogh, Theo van”, 1/20/1874). The priggish Anna, of course, responded in the negative: “the world does not approve such things,” then went on to say, obviously with direct knowledge of the woman about whom Theo had inquired: “She considers you as a little boy and herself as a lady -- no young-lady ... she always liked to seem younger than she really was” (ibid.). Admittedly, Anna makes Theo’s object of desire sound far older than Annet's twenty-three, but that may be just the perspective of an eighteen-year-old sister looking out for her sixteen-year-old brother.
Although there is always the possibility that Theo had his sights on an unidentified, older woman other than Annet, we believe that these references probably are to Annet, whom Theo apparently specifically mentioned in a letter at the beginning of the year and about whom Anna had previously instructed him: “You must try to find out more about Annet Hanebeek” (b2679 V/1982, “Gogh, Anna van” to “Gogh, Theo van”, 1/6/1874). Meyers uses this passage to support his claim that Vincent fell in love with Annet (Meyers, p. 95) -- a speculation for which we can find no other evidence. This claim is also directly refuted by Cassee (Cassee, pp. 111-112). We believe the passage may be the first indication of Theo’s amorous interest in Annet. Stolwijk, places their affair in the spring of 1874. (Stolwijk in Stolwijk and Thomson, eds., p. 25.)
Anna, ever the love-maven, pressed Theo to pursue the relationship and keep her informed of its progress so that she could inform Vincent, which she may have done. We also believe that the quote from Michelet that Vincent included in his letter dated July 31 regarding older women was probably meant to reassure the (by then) seventeen-year-old Theo about his infatuation with the twenty-three-year-old Annet: “That book [L'amour] was a revelation and immediately a gospel to me. ‘There is no such thing as an old woman!’ (This isn’t to say that there are no old women, but that a woman doesn’t grow old as long as she loves and is loved.)” (JLB 27, 7/31/1874.) This passage has often been stretched to suggest that Vincent was enamored of his almost-sixty-year-old landlady, Ursula Loyer.
Context:
JLB 28, 8/10/1874: "Ye judge after the flesh; I judge no man."
Context:
JLB 28, 8/10/1874: "He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her."
Context:
BVG 21, 8/10/1874: "So keep to your own ideas, and if you doubt whether they are right, test them with those of Him who dared to say, "I am the truth," or with those of some very human person, Michelet, for instance ..."
JLB 28, 8/10/1874: "So stick to your own ideas, and if you doubt the goodness of them, test them against those of him who dared to say 'I am the truth', or against those of some humane person, such as Michelet."
Context:
JLB 28, 8/10/1874: "You know the Margaret at the fountain by Ary Scheffer; is there a purer being than that girl 'who loved so much'?"
Context:
JLB 26, 7/21/1874: "Yesterday a crate was sent to The Hague in which I put a photo of a J. Maris and also 'The landlady's daughter' I promised, both of which I hope you'll hang up in your room."
Context:
JLB 30, 3/6/1875: "Also Jesus by Renan and Jeanne d'Arc by Michelet, and also a portrait of Corot, from the London News, which I also have hanging in my room."
Context:
JLB 34, 5/31/1875: "There are 3 Corots at the Salon, very beautiful, the most beautiful one, painted shortly before his death, 'Women cutting wood', will probably appear as a woodcut in L'Illustration or Le Monde Illustré."
Context:
JLB 34, 5/31/1875: "[Breton] has a beautiful painting at the Salon, 'The feast of St John,' peasant girls dancing on a summer evening round the St John's bonfire, in the background the village with its church and the moon above it."
Context:
JLB 23, 6/16/1874: "There are beautiful things at the Royal Academy this year; among others Tissot has 3 paintings."
The other, of course, was le maître Jules Michelet: towering historian of the Revolution, champion of free will, debunker of religion and fate, defender of the heart's desire (married to a woman thirty years his junior), who had just died in February. Among Vincent's favorite passages was a contemplation on a captured nightingale, imprisoned with other birds raised in captivity. In “Le Rossignol” (quoted in Pabst, p. 14), Michelet observes how the nightingale, “jostled by the mad, inquisitive games” of his fellow prisoners, withdraws “into the shadows” of his cage). “‘I felt strongly,’ he writes, that the shadows he sought were, in the cruelty of his pain, an attempt not to exist, an intentional suicide. In his mind he was embracing death, and he was dying as much as he could by suspending his senses and all external activity ... He was clearly saying, ‘What does it matter to one who is no more?’ [In him] I sensed the soul of an artist, all gentleness and light, with no venom or hard-heartedness to set against the barbarism of the world and the ferocity of fate. And that is what he lived on; that is how he managed not to die.” (ibid.) (For a complete list of writers and translation of Vincent’s poetry albums, see Pabst, Vincent van Gogh’s Poetry Albums.)
Given all that happened in Vincent's life during those six months, it is inconceivable that he did not share it with the only person who would have cared about it (and the person for whom he was busily preparing an elaborate poetry album). Indeed, Theo was the only family member who had Vincent's address in Paris in the last three months of the year and his parents assumed the brothers were corresponding. In a letter from October, 1874, Dorus gave Theo instructions on how to write Vincent: “Perhaps it is best not to touch upon any sensitive issues in your letter, but then again I myself don't know what would be good” (b2728 V/1982, “Gogh, Theodorus van” to “Gogh, Theo van”, 10/28/1874). So persuasive is the inference that Bailey dispenses with the conditional altogethers and concludes: “It was a period of great depression and although Vincent wrote occasionally, his letters have been destroyed” (Bailey, Young Vincent, p. 50). The subject of prostitution taken up in JLB 28, 8/10/1874 would almost surely have triggered Johanna Bonger's censor, especially if the exchange related, as we believe it did, to Theo's earliest sexual adventures. Theo would also have had an opportunity to edit the record when, after Vincent's death, he reviewed the correspondence preliminary to arranging for a biography to be written (see Epilogue).
This frantic backpedaling not only suggests that Dorus was aware of his son's hypersensitivity to parental interference, but also sounds suspiciously like Dorus doing damage control -- positioning himself for full deniability. “I do not think it [i.e., a transfer] is totally impossible. Because I recently heard Uncle Cent say that he [Vincent] has to become familiar with the business in Paris, so it could be that sooner or later he would have to go there for a short time. If it happened that such a transfer would take place, especially in these days of depressed mood, I would imagine that a change of air and surroundings could perhaps be useful for him. But do me the favor not to write about this to Vincent; as he could interpret this incorrectly.” (b2724 V/1982, ''Gogh, Theodorus van'' to ''Gogh, Theo van'', 10/5/1874.)
The next installment on October 19 further suggests a frantic effort to create a “cover story” that would dissociate Dorus from the transfer: “Judging by what Uncle Cent told me, I do believe that Vincent will go to Paris for a while. Uncle so wanted him to work at headquarters and become more familiar with everything the Paris store contains before the new building in London is opened. As I wrote you recently, I purposely refrain from asking for anything ... the decision is in good hands with Uncle Cent.” (b2726 V/1982, “Gogh, Theodorus van” to “Gogh, Theo van”, 10/19/1874.) The reality was probably closer to Vincent’s view, which we have tried to express in the rhetorical questions in the text. We are assuming that Theo probably did keep his brother informed of his correspondence with his father, in contravention of Dorus's frantic instructions.
No brief for the defense could overcome this history of interference. On November 20, Vincent sent his parents a note openly blaming them for the transfer: "We finally heard from Vincent ... We shouldn't think he was angry; there was no reason to be angry at all, but we shouldn't expect him to write us as before -- "what's done is done" -- On the 25th he sent us a 20 franc bill but without an accompanying note" (b2735 V/1982, "Gogh, Theodorus en Anna C. van" to "Gogh, Theo van", 12/3/1874). Meyers writes that Dorus tried to convince Vincent that Vincent was wrong in thinking that it was his father and not his Uncle Cent who was responsible for the move to London and that the subterfuge about enlargement of the London gallery contained an element of truth. Meyers goes on to argue that Vincent's reaction to his father's description of the events leading up to the removal to London can be inferred from the fact that Vincent did not reply to his father's letter -- although of this we cannot be sure. (Meyers, p. 145.)
Context:
BVG 82a, 9/1/1876: "And viewed from the distant road to Bois-le-Duc, how pleasant Helvoirt looked that evening and the lights in the village and the steeple amidst the snow-covered poplars."
JLB 89, 8/26/1876: "And how friendly Helvoirt looked that evening, and the lights in the village and the tower between the snow-covered poplars, seen from a distance on the road to Den Bosch."
Context:
JLB 89, 8/26/1876: "I'm already looking forward to Christmas, two years ago we took that walk in the snow in the evening, do you remember it, when we saw the moon rise above Mariënhof?"
Context:
JLB 29, 1/5/1875 and 3/5/1875: "Our gallery is now finished and it's beautiful, we have many beautiful things at the moment."
But like the outreach to his parents, Vincent's outreach to Anna was doomed to failure. In late January or early February, the siblings went to see Hamlet, this time apparently without the Applegarths (b2320 V/1982, “Gogh, Theodorus van” to “Gogh, Theo van”, 2/11/1875). They probably saw the production starring Henry Irving that opened at the Lyceum Theatre on October 31, 1874 (“Sir Henry Irving’s Obituary, Funeral and Tributes”). Irving's performance shattered Shakespearean convention by portraying the melancholy, misplaced Dane not as a histrionic prince, but as a sensitive soul who fails to act decisively “not so much from weakness of will as from excess of tenderness,” according to one contemporary reviewer (ibid.). After the performance, Vincent and Anna argued bitterly (b2333 V/1982, “Gogh, Anna van” to “Gogh, Theo van”, 4/28/1875).
Three months later, still furious, Anna reported the incident to Theo: “I'm very sorry to have paid him a visit, and to have been such a nuisance to him ... If I had had any reason to expect that [my visit] would turn out the way it did, I certainly would have done things differently ... [but] the sun is shining too beautifully and cheerfully in my room to be thinking about such unpleasant things” (b2333 V/1982, “Gogh, Anna van” to “Gogh, Theo van”, 4/28/1875). Apparently, Anna also wrote about the incident to Lies, who was taken aback at the intensity of her sister's anger at Vincent: “Oh! Anna -- if she wanted, how much good could she do for him. I cannot understand why she has changed so much. I always thought she loved him so much.” (b2339 V/1982, “Gogh, Elisabeth van” to “Gogh, Theo van”, 5/30/1875.) In fact, the blow-up between brother and sister was hardly unforeseeable. In November 1874, after Vincent left for Paris, Anna had dismissed his anti-social behavior as just “a case of the grumps,” and tartly advised her parents to “just let Vincent go his own sweet way” (b2733 V/1982, “Gogh, Theodorus van” to “Gogh, Theo van”, 11/18/1874).
Vincent could not have responded well to this callous diminishment of his emotional anguish -- which suggests that Irving's angst-ridden portrayal of Hamlet may have triggered the argument between brother and sister, whether or not it was the actual topic. How much of the play's intricate, fast-moving English the two Dutch speakers understood is, of course, debatable.
Context:
JLB 3, mid-January 1873: "The next time I write I'll send you my portrait; I had it taken last Sunday."
Context:
JLB 5, 3/17/1873: "I just received your letter, for which I thank you. I'm very pleased with the portrait, it turned out well."
Context:
JLB 30, 3/6/1875: "I don't believe there's any chance that you'll be transferred to the London branch for the time being."
Context:
JLB 29, 1/5/1875 and 3/5/1875: "I'd like so much to have you here, we must make sure that it happens sometime."
Context:
JLB 293, 12/11/1882: "Anyway, instead of dealing with a way of thinking, a feeling, a goal like Dickens's (The Graphic was like that originally), one is presented with a mode of seeing and thinking like Obach's. That saddens me, and then I feel powerless. Undertaking something oneself is possible only if one encounters interest and cooperation."
Context:
BVG 252, 12/11/1882: "And now everything is gone -- once again materialism instead of moral principle."
Moral greatness diminishes, material greatness comes in its place."
Context:
BVG 333, 10/16/1883: "But I am disposed to include Obach -- he waited so long and went through so much strain that for a time he lost his reason."
JLB 397, 10/16/1883: "I would, though, include Obach -- he waited so long, put up with so much stress that for a time he was going out of his mind." (Emphasis in original.)
Context:
BVG 26, 5/8/1875: "I hope and trust that I am not what many people think I am just now."
JLB 33, 5/8/1875: "I hope and believe that I'm not what many think me to be at present …"
