Tuesday, 13 January 1874

I had placed a comb and a small mirror under my pillow and I dreamed that Allard was doing my hair; indeed Joséphine wakes me saying the hairdresser was waiting. All this proves that I am not old enough to divine the future. Last year I dreamed I was riding a horse, and yesterday that I was having my hair done, and all of it came true.
This animal does not do my hair as I like.
We go to church (sky-blue dress, brown hat, not bad, very ill at ease); the whole time in church I was miserable; there was a moment when I wanted to leave; at last, fortunately, it is over. This dress is very uncomfortable; the bodice is badly made. Moreover the hairstyle was vexing me. I think I was ridiculous.
I go up in a hurry to change (blue dress); I let my hair down and I feel relieved.
I propose to the princess and Machenka that they come with me, while the others would go ahead with Auguste; we would take a cab and go to the Reserve and then to the Promenade. But at our house nothing ever goes to plan -- there are obstacles; Maman said they would soon go to Monaco, that we would have Auguste, that I had better keep the two louis she had given me. It was like water a cold shower; I go out with them in the landau with the intention of going back to fetch them.
There are not yet many people on the Promenade; as soon as we pass, the Grand Audiffret, who was on foot, climbs into a small carriage (Duke-style) and rushes at ours so that one of his mudguards breaks, I believe, but it was done on purpose for he did not even turn around.
A month ago he was to be introduced to us by the spiritualist, but that little fool did not introduce him.
I laughed at this adventure -- he exposed himself to ridicule, poor beast! I escort them to the station. I want to take an open carriage, a cab, but Dina in her black dress wants a carriage by the hour; we take a detestable Nice-style elegance. I shall not describe how Papa would not go in a small carriage, how we stayed half an hour at the Baquis, how Georges and Stiopa annoyed everyone, how I would rather have stayed at home than martyrise myself thus. In short the princess and I go in this Nice-style elegance; a spattering dust -- they would do well to water the road a little. I wanted to move to the landau but we searched for it a long time; it was only after twice enduring the hateful gaze of the monkey Lambertye, who was with the Labanoffs and a crowd of gentlemen -- to be thus exposed to all the dust! I was beside myself; I could have wept. At last, the landau; I take my seat in it with joy.
I am pleased with myself for I no longer blush at random, as I used to blush for Wittgenstein, for Audiffret, even sometimes for the monkey Lambertye. I was in the midst of saying my triple Miserere when Wittgenstein passes -- he is not drunk. Lord Falkner is very often far from being in a state of temperance; this morning we met him arm in arm with a gentleman, and drunk as a pig. I do not think the Duke of Hamilton drank so much; it would show on his face, and he was perfectly fresh.
It is a miserable day! I have been so unhappy and miserable since morning. I see everyone happy and content, in society, satisfied, and I alone was preparing to sustain the war, both of the journey and of the pity, which he who does not believe will recall to mind.
Good God, will the whole year be as disagreeable for me?
I cannot see the crowds at the Strait of Flies without envy, for I am envious! I feel dusty, miserable, unhappy. In short, I was supremely glad to go home and sit at the piano.
Tomorrow is the first grand competition; I send for a cab. At eight in the evening I put on my conspirator, very convenient at night, and with the princess we go to the station to learn the time of the special train; it is cold and pleasant. At the station there is not a soul except a man asleep on a bench in the corner. But fortunately we find a notice. One must have special tickets, to be had, among other places, from the offices of the principal hotels. We go to Chauvain’s, but it is too late; besides, one can get them at the entrance of the first-class waiting room.
I tell the driver to go by the Promenade; opposite Centifolia’s we turn and go home.
My cheeks were pinched by the cold, and I like that.
I hope (after that “I hope” I reread today’s entry) I hope that the whole year will not be like today.
My God, what a way to spend our first of January!
I dined well; that is a consolation.

Notes

Written in Russian in the manuscript; French translation by the editor. ↩
In Italian in the original: in fretta. ↩
In English in the original. ↩
In French in the original: bataclan. ↩
Miserere (“Have mercy”): the opening word of Psalm 51 (Miserere mei, Deus), Marie’s habitual cry of woe; here she “says” it three times, like a prayer. ↩
In Italian in the original: ed io sol uno m’apparecchiavo a sostenere la guerra si del cammino e si della pietate che ritrarrà a mente chi non crede. From Dante, Inferno II.3–6 (Dante’s text: e io sol uno / m’apparecchiava a sostener la guerra / sì del cammino e sì de la pietate, / che ritrarrà la mente che non erra; Marie’s last words differ). ↩