I have now received the two portraits. In B’s portrait of himself a portrait of G. hangs on the wall, and in G’s. portrait of himself there is a portrait of B. in the background. At first one can only see G.; but B’s. picture appeals to me very much indeed too.

It is only a painter’s idea, only a few summary tones and a few black lines; but it is as _chic_ as a genuine Manet. The G. shows more study and is more carefully carried out, and that is exactly what makes one feel as if it were the representation of a captive. It shows no trace of good cheer, no particle of flesh; but all this may be ascribed simply to his intention, which was to produce something melancholy. Those parts of the skin which are in shadow are a sombre blue. Now at last I have the opportunity of comparing my painting with my friends’. There is no question that my portrait which I am sending to G. in exchange for his, holds its place quite well beside the latter. I wrote to G. that if I might be allowed to lend unmerited importance to my personality in a picture, I had tried to paint, not exactly myself, but the portrait of an impressionist, and had therefore conceived this picture as that of a bonze in abject adoration before his great Buddha. And when I place my conceptions and G’s. side by side, I find mine just as serious as his but not so full of despair. And G’s. portrait seems to say to me: this must go on no longer, he must grow contented again, he must become the old G. of yore, who meanwhile has grown richer, through the south{JJ} and the negresses.

I am extremely glad that I have the portraits of our friends at this period. They will not remain as they are; in time they will have a cloudless life, and I feel plainly that it is my duty to do everything in order to reduce our poverty. Poverty is impossible in our profession. I feel that he is more like Millet than I am, but I am more like Diaz than he is.[36] And like Diaz I will try to please the public in order to help him. My work has cost more than theirs; but I do not mind this now that I have seen their painting; they worked amid too much poverty to have success; for, believe me, I have better and more saleable work than that which I sent to you, and I feel that I am capable of even better things. I feel quite confident that there are many people to whom the poetical subjects in particular will appeal. The “Starry Sky,” the “Vine-Branch,” the “Furrows,” the “Poet’s Garden.” For I consider it our duty, yours as well as mine, to aim at comparative wealth, as we shall have great artists to provide for. If you have Gauguin, you can be as happy as Sensier. He will be so pleased with the house as a studio, that he will even want to rule and manage it. B. has sent me a collection of ten drawings.... You will soon see all these things; but I shall keep the portraits by me, and enjoy them for a little while longer, before I send them to you. Some day you will probably see the portrait of myself which I sent to G., for I hope G. will keep it: it looks quite ashen-grey against a pale emerald green (not yellow) background. I am wearing the brown jacket with the blue edging. I intensified the brown to a purple, and I broadened the edging. The head is modelled entirely in light colour, light on a light ground, almost free from shadows; but I have painted the eyes somewhat oblique, _à la japonaise_.


Letter from G.... who tells me that he has sent you a batch of pictures and studies. I should be very glad if you could find the time to write me a few details about them. With G’s. letter I also received a note from B. in which he confirms the receipt of my pictures, all seven of which they mean to keep. B. is making me a present of one more study in exchange, and the three others, M., L., and another young painter, will, I hope, also send portraits. G. has my portrait and B. writes that he would very much like to have one in the same style, although he already possesses one which I gave him in exchange for his portrait of his grandmother. And I was glad to hear that they were not displeased with my figure pictures.


I have been and still am half dead, after my last week’s work. I cannot do anything yet but, as it happens, a terrific north wind is blowing at present, which whirls up clouds of dust and covers the trees from top to bottom in a coat of white. Willy-nilly, therefore, I am obliged to remain idle. So I have slept sixteen hours at a stretch; it has done me a tremendous amount of good, and to-morrow, thanks to this thorough rest, I shall be well again. But I have a good week behind me: five canvases are no small matter; if one suffer a little for that sort of thing it really is no wonder. If I had worked more slowly, however, the storm would only have interrupted me. When the weather is fine one should take advantage of it, otherwise one can make no headway.


What is Seurat doing? If you see him, tell him that I have a scheme of decoration in view which, as far as I can tell at present, will extend to fifteen pictures, and which, in order to be complete, will require another fifteen. Tell him also that I am encouraged in my labours upon this serious scheme by recollections, not only of his own good self, but also of the fine large pictures which I saw in his studio.


We ought also to have a portrait of Seurat by himself.

I wrote to G. that when I suggested an exchange of portraits between us, I had naturally taken it for granted that he and B. had made studies of each other; and that as this did not prove to be the case, and that he had painted one specially for me, I could not accept this picture in exchange, as I regarded it as too important a work of art for the purpose. Nevertheless, he replied that I absolutely must accept it in exchange, and his letter contained a host of compliments which, as they were undeserved, I pass over.


I am sending you an article about Provence which, in my opinion is well written. The “Félibres” are a literary and artistic society, composed of Clovis Hugues, Mistral, and others, who write excellent sonnets in the Provençal dialect and in French. If ever the “Félibres” deign to take any notice of me here, they will all come into my little house. But I should like this to occur only when I have finished my decorations. As I love Provence just as whole-heartedly as they do, I feel that I have some right to their consideration. If ever I avail myself of this right, it will be in order that my pictures may remain here or in Marseilles, where, as you know, I should like to work. For the artists of Marseilles would do well to continue the work begun by their fellow-townsman Monticelli. If G. or I were to write an article for one of the local papers here, it would suffice to open up relations with them.

I must tell you that I have made a very interesting expedition through various local farm properties, in the company of some one who knows this part of the country very well. They are all small peasant holdings, _à la_ Millet, translated into Provençal. M. K. and B. cannot make head or tail of it all, and even though I am beginning to feel a little clearer in regard to it all, I should have to live here a jolly long time in order to be able to paint it.


I often feel that the only possible way of carrying out our plan will be for me to set out on a journey, in case Gauguin does not succeed in escaping from the place. And, then, after all, I should still remain with the peasants. I even believe that we should hold ourselves in readiness to go to him; for sooner or later he is sure to be in dire distress, if, for instance, his landlord refuses to allow him any more credit. This is more than probable, and then his need might be so great, that our plans would have to be carried out with all possible dispatch. As far as I am concerned the only expense would be my journey thither; for, according to him, the cost of bare necessaries is much lower there than it is here.


People are better off in this place than in the north, even when they are quite hard up. For the weather is always fine, and the Mistral itself makes no difference to it. That glorious sun, in the rays of which Voltaire used to bask while sipping coffee, continues to shine notwithstanding. In all directions one is reminded quite involuntarily of Zola and Voltaire. There is such an abundance of vital energy everywhere. It is like Jan Steen and Ostade’s work. The conditions for the formation of a school of painting are certainly to be found here. You will reply, however, that nature is beautiful everywhere, if only one enters sufficiently deeply into her spirit.


Have you read “Madame Chrysanthème,” and made the acquaintance of Monsieur Kangourou, that pander, so overwhelmingly obliging, with the sugared spices, the fried ices, and the salted sweetstuffs?

I have seen a wooden figure of a woman, in a peasant garden here, which came from the prow of a Spanish ship. It stood in the midst of a group of cypresses, and the whole effect was very like Monticelli. Oh! what a lot of poetry there is in these farm-gardens, with their abundance of lovely red Provençal roses, these vineyards, these fig trees, and the perennially powerful sun, in spite of which the green of the vegetation remains so fresh! There are also the reservoirs with their clear water running over the orchards through diminutive channels which constitute a regular canal system on a small scale; and the old grey horse of “la Camargue” which sets the machine in motion. No cow is to be found in these farmyards. My neighbour and his wife (who are grocers) are extraordinarily like the Buteaux. But in these parts the peasant holdings, the inns, and even the lowest cafés, are less gloomy and less tragic looking than they are in the north; for the heat makes poverty less cruel and less lugubrious. I wish to Heavens you had seen this country! But our first concern must be to await developments in Gauguin’s quarter.


Gauguin responded to the call of his friend and came to join him in his work in sunny and gay-coloured Provence. A fit of insanity, however, seized Van Gogh and broke up the companionship of the two artists. From that time onward, Van Gogh lived in an asylum, where in his moments of lucidity he was still able to paint beautiful pictures.

Concerning the last days of his friend, Gauguin writes as follows: “In his last letter from Auvers, near Pontoise, he said that he had always hoped that his health might so far improve as to permit him to paint with me in Brittany, but that he was then convinced that recovery was out of the question. ‘My dear master, after having known you and grieved you, it is more dignified to die while I am fully conscious of what I am doing, than to take leave of this world in a state which degrades me.’ He fired a bullet at himself, and, a few hours later, while lying in bed smoking his pipe, with all his wits about him, full of passionate love for his art, and without any feelings of resentment towards humanity, he quietly passed away.”


NOTES

NOTE {A}: page 39. The translation of the original French would be: “without having recourse to the old dodges and delusions of intriguers” (_aux vieux trucs et trompe-l’œil d’intrigants_).

NOTE {B}: p. 44. The French is _boutons d’or_ (buttercups). The German translation has _Löwenzahn_.

NOTE {C}: p. 45. The German is, _Leute die auf Technik sehen_; but my rendering is more faithful to the French original.

NOTE {D}: p. 51. According to the French this should be: “After many eccentricities you have succeeded in producing,” etc. The German, however, is, _wirst Du dahin gelangen Sachen von ägyptischer Ruhe_, etc.

NOTE {E}: p. 55. The French word is _bestiales_, which the German translator rendered by _grausame_.

NOTE {F}: p. 55. The French is _crâne_ (swaggering); the German translation has _elegant_.

NOTE {G}: p. 60. The French has, _your_ grandmother.

NOTE {H}: p. 61. The French is, _amours faciles_.

NOTE {I}: p. 62. The French is, _senti dans son animalité_.

NOTE {J}: p. 62. From this point the original French continues, “is like the consummation of sexual love--a moment of infinity.”

NOTE {K}: p. 63. In his original publication of these letters in _Le Mercure de France_, E. Bernard inserts a note here to the effect that Van Gogh meant that Rembrandt used religious subjects only as a means of expressing philosophical ideas.

NOTE {L}: p. 64. The French is, _peint un ange surnaturel au sourire à la Vinci_.

NOTE {M}: p. 65. The French is, _folie contagieuse_.

NOTE {N}: p. 66. The French is, _sincérité et dévotion_.

NOTE {O}: p. 68. The German translator took what I believe to be a justifiable liberty here; for the original French reads: _et il sagit de souffler de son souffle tant qu’on a le souffle_.

NOTE {P}: p. 73. The French word is _renaissance_.

NOTE {Q}: p. 74. The German translation (_beim Fechten_) misses the point here; for the French original is not _l’escrime_, but _l’escrime à l’assaut_.

NOTE {R}: p. 77. In the German translation there are no dots here to show that a passage has been omitted; as however, this passage seems to me important, I thought it advisable to give the translation of it in these notes. After the word “nature,” the French original proceeds: “in order to convert a study into a picture by arranging the colour, adding here, and simplifying there;...”

NOTE {S}: p. 81. E. Bernard says that this refers to a caricature by Gauguin of Van Gogh sitting on a ledge of rock drawing the sun.

NOTE {T}: p. 83. The French word is not _talent_ but _supériorité_.

NOTE {U}: p. 89. I confess that I did not understand the proper meaning of this passage, either in the French or in the German, so here it is, as it stands in the French original: _Mais justement à cause de ce que c’est dans le cœur des gens qu’est aussi le cœur des affaires, il faut conquérir des amitiés ou plutôt les ranimer_.

NOTE {V}: p. 90. It may be of interest to painters to know that the other colours mentioned in the French original are: _rose de garance_, and _mine orange_.

NOTE {W}: p. 96. I may be wrong here. The German word is _Axiomen_, the French original is, _axiomes_.

NOTE {X}: p. 98. The French original contains simply the word _sérénité_, which the German translator paraphrased as “the joy of living, and peace.”

NOTE {Y}: p. 101. The French original has, _on ne s’en repent pas_, in the place of “one can never cast it out.”

NOTE {Z}: p. 102. It is not clear whether Van Gogh meant that he opposed the firm B. and V. or that he quelled the feeling in his heart. The French original is simply: _Seulement je m’y oppose_.

NOTE {AA}: p. 104. The French original is, _des établissements pour Zouaves_. On this point see also p. 23, vol. 12, of the “Mercure de France.”

NOTE {BB}: p. 108. The original reads: _Si je me laissais embêter par le premier venu ici, tu comprends que je ne saurais bientôt plus où donner la tête_. The German rendering was therefore a little too free.

NOTE {CC}: p. 116. A passage is omitted here in the German translation, which I think is of sufficient interest to be quoted. In the French original the passage reads: _Je crois que Gauguin lui-même souffre beaucoup et ne peut pas se developper comme pourtant c’est en dedans de lui de pouvoir le faire_.

NOTE {DD}: p. 116. On both occasions when in the German text I found the word _Schwefelgelb_, I translated it by “cadmium.” The word in the French original is simply _soufre_. (See also page 73.)

NOTE {EE}: p. 122. The German word is _Quadratnets_, and the French original has _cadre perspectif_. I am not sure that my rendering gives an adequate idea of the instrument.

NOTE {FF}: p. 124. The French is, _rhinocéros dangereux_.

NOTE {GG}: p. 145, “and give a helping hand,” is a somewhat free rendering, through the German, of _et comme nous le ferons_.

NOTE {HH}: p. 146. The number “28” seems to be a misprint in the German.

NOTE {II}: p. 147. E. Bernard, himself, leaves one to guess at what this means; for in the original French we read: _Car je n’ai même pas, depuis un mois trois semaines, de quoi aller ... pour 3 fr._

NOTE {JJ}: p. 154. In the French original there is no mention of “the south.”

CHISWICK PRESS: CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND CO. TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE, LONDON.


Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:

us in in his favour=>us in his favour {pg xvi}

ursurped the place of higher and holier aims=>usurped the place of higher and holier aims {pg xxxiv}

Gaugin=> Gauguin {x6}

Another and even more stiking example=> Another and even more striking example {pg 8}

dry withered beach leaves=> dry withered beech leaves {pg 12}

as far as as I was able to judge=>as far as I was able to judge {pg 25}

I believe it is bettter to scrape=> I believe it is better to scrape {pg 26}

simply because it it is his nature to do so=> simply because it is his nature to do so {pg 37}

in which everything was arranged with architectual method=> in which everything was arranged with architectural method {pg 59}

he would certainly not think lighty of this talent=> he would certainly not think lightly of this talent {pg 78}

is to found on the palettes of the Dutch painters=> is to be found on the palettes of the Dutch painters {pg 92}

Everywhere a cadium yellow=> Everywhere a cadmium yellow {pg 95}

small head of of the Brittany girl=> small head of the Brittany girl {pg 127}


FOOTNOTES:

[1] 1 See “Mercure de France,” vol. 48, p. 127 (Oct. 1903), Article, “Paul Gauguin,” by Charles Morice.

[2] “Mercure de France,” vol. 48 (Oct. 1903), p. 127.

[3] That Vincent also often felt depressed about his work may be gathered from the following passage, taken from a letter to his brother, not included in this volume: “C’est une perspective assez triste de devoir se dire que jamais la peinture que je fais n’aura une valeur quelconque.”

[4] See Emile Bernard’s preface to his publication of Van Gogh’s letters in the “Mercure de France,” vol. 7, p. 324.

[5] As to how he overcame his academic period, see Meier Graefe’s work, “Impressionisten” (p. 122) where the author has some interesting things to say.

[6] “Mercure de France,” vol. 48 (1903), p. 105.

[7] The italics are mine.--A. M. L.

[8] Not included in this collection of letters.

[9] I could not discover who the owner was; but the present number of the exhibit is 984F and the picture is marked “_In Bruikleen_” = lent.

[10] I have reasons to believe that this wonderful picture was sold by the Sonderbund people at the very time of my visit to Cologne for the sum of £450. But I was unable to discover the name of the new owner.

[11] See particularly his picture No. 1105 at the Ryksmuseum, Amsterdam.

[12] I wonder if it is to this work that Gauguin refers when, speaking of the progress Van Gogh was making under his tuition, he asks Morice: “Avez-vous vu la gure et les cheveux, jaune de chrome?”

[13] “Mercure de France,” vol. 48 (1903), p. 127.

[14] Ibid., p. 129.

[15] Both belonging to Galerie E. Druet in 1911.

[16] Belonging to Bernheim Jeune in 1911.

[17] “Mercure de France,” vol. 13 (1895).

[18] “Impressionisten,” p. 128. By-the-bye, Meier Graefe does not say why he thinks this, nor does he reveal the source of his judgment.

[19] “Mercure de France,” vol. 48, p. 126.

[20] At Amsterdam. The picture here referred to, which, as far as I was able to judge, measured 10 in. by 6 in., represents a monk seated by the side of a sick or dying man’s bed.--Tr.

[21] A word suggesting bold virtuosity in expressing an impression.--Tr.

[22] The German is _wanzenartig_, but the above rendering gives, I think, a better idea of Van Gogh’s meaning than a literal translation would.--Tr.

[23] Van Gogh must be referring, here, to Japanese prints which have undergone a process of craping. For details of this process see “Japanese Colour Prints” by E. F. Strange (pp. 110, 111).--TR.

[24] This sentence does not seem to make sense, even in the French, without this interpolation.--Tr.

[25] The writer is undoubtedly referring to the St. Matthew in the Louvre.

[26] In the Middle Ages these were corporations consisting of all people engaged in the writing and general production of books, as at Antwerp, for instance. These guilds, which in other places, as at Bruges, were also called St. John Guilds, were often joined by the first printers, until their numbers in any particular town allowed them to form a guild of their own.--Tr.

[27] The German is “No. 30 Quadrat,” which is rendered approximately by the above.--Tr.

[28] German “No. 30.”--Tr.

[29] The German is: _zwei Bilden in Breitformat_. The only English term which appears to be used to designate a picture the horizon line of which runs parallel to the longest sides of the canvas, and which is therefore the reverse of an “upright,” is “landscape-shape.”--TR.

[30] See note on p. 40.

[31] See note on p. 91.

[32] Ger. “No. 15.”--Tr.

[33] See note, p. 40.

[34] These figures are approximate only. The German equivalents are Nos. 25, 30, and 20.--Tr.

[35] See note p. 91.

[36] Reference to Diaz’s self-sacrificing friendship for Millet.

End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Letters of a Post-Impressionist, by Vincent Van Gogh