Diary of Marie Bashkirtseff
CZENUKFR

Monday, 1 February 1875

At ten o'clock, a walk with Sabatini (grey, well). It is warm; there is no devil; I am bored.
Here and there I caught in passing — a pretty little one — or — she looks very proper — or some English woman with boat-shaped feet: oh I look at the heels of these boots I —
This morning I loved Nice; now I detest it! Not for itself but for my misfortune!
Oh, our life, our life!
Does one suppose that because I have not complained for a while, I have been calm, that I have not suffered? Come now! Is it a death or a departure that I am mourning — something that, once it has come, leaves only regrets that gradually diminish? No — it is a continuous misfortune, always the same degree, always the same everywhere — above all where others are happy and gay! Damn it all!
De Mouzay and his cousin come to visit us. And the way the house is kept — or rather, is not kept at all!
Disorder, undisciplined servants! The dining room in the pavilion full of dogs, no carpets, no curtains, no furniture.
The poor ground floor of the house still untouched and empty. For me, no bedroom; one single maidservant for the four of us.
Fortuné, who might serve as a decorative ornament if properly dressed, going about slovenly; the garden unfinished; a crumbling wall instead of a gate; a fragment of trellis in place of an entrance. The two cypress terraces in ruin; and the way in from the Rue de France.
For all our servants: Arthur, who — if properly turned out — would do well, having served in good houses, but here badly; Martin the gardener; Adam the cook; and Fortuné, who is errand-boy or courier or idler or worker or messenger or the devil knows what.
I say nothing of Trifon, who is entirely Papa's but also serves us.
These are the ills that afflict me — and add to them seeing no one, being looked upon as plague-carriers or something close to it, while adoring society, luxury, and everything — everything I adore, everything that makes up my life, my heart, my happiness — all of that which I do not have, which I can only have by a miracle, and miracles are not performed for wretches like me! Add all that and put yourself in my place!
Oh! My God! My God, forgive me and save me!

Notes

In English in the original. ↩