Diary of Marie Bashkirtseff
CZENUKFR

Saturday, 15 January 1876

Here is the letter to Andriot — I am obliged to repeat several things in it, being almost certain that the Surprising One has not read his letters, and because the worthy Saetone, who will certainly gossip, must be brought up to date — and people will laugh a little at the soul's wanderings. No doubt Andriot will mention it to Prodgers, since it was she who devoured it.
Most honoured brother, Please read this letter attentively, as it concerns an interest greater than life for one of your dearest friends. Some days ago, our worthy and reverend Father Superior communicated to us most agreeable news — the conversion of a poor lost sheep, the conversion of the most debauched and most dissolute Émile d'Audiffret; he was therefore about to leave the world and Maurice Gros! At this news, filled with wonder, we wrote to future Brother Émile of Misery and Rope a letter full of affectionate words, the most paternal remonstrances, and the tenderest interest, inviting him to follow his generous vocation and come earn the eternal crown at the feet of the Lord. We rejoiced in vain! Scarcely had we dispatched our message than we learned something new and atrocious! The trust of our hearts was betrayed! The holiness of the words Repentance, Conversion, trodden underfoot! Émile did not wish to take the frock except because he had no soul!! The unhappy soul, mortgaged to Satan, to whom he had not been able to pay, had just been seized by Maître Arnulfi, prosecuting solicitor, and was to be sold at a wild auction in the hall of the new establishment of public outcry sale, on 4 January 1876, on Tuesday, at midnight. Reserve price: three francs. We were astonished, but alas! Too late — the soul had already been knocked down for the sum of seven francs fifty centimes to Gagery of the London House. We shuddered — and we were not yet at the end! The infamous and ignorant Gagery, with that coarseness common to those of his sort, did not understand [Words blacked out: at the word] the ethereal essence of his purchase! Taking the soul of the too-unfortunate Émile for an oyster, and finding in it a great many unknown monsters, he believed himself cheated — he made it into a pâté and sold it to Mme Prodgers for the price of four francs, and Mme Prodgers, having eaten this pâté in the company of several of her friends, experienced great discomfort, as did those who had partaken of the abominable repast. Fortunately for Émile's body — which one may well compare to a bag of turpitudes — fortunately for his wretched body, one of our brothers, one of those whose frock he wished to prostitute by becoming a monk without a soul, passing near a drain of the Paillon, saw his soul, which he recognized by its blackness; the soul was heading for the river in a state to make one shudder! Our brother devoted himself and entered the mud up to his neck, heroically extracting the soul, which was already fraternizing with its fellow unfortunates, and brought it to our holy dwelling, where we have carefully locked it in the Superior's wood-box. We immediately wrote to the unhappy remains of him who was Émile d'Audiffret, to let him know the conditions under which he could recover this soul. Émile's body was to come to the convent barefoot, naked to the waist, administering blows of a stirrup-strap upon himself on all fleshy parts. He was also to accomplish a pilgrimage to Lourdes. But this hardened pagan delayed accomplishing these small formalities, occupied as he was in making the delight of Monsieur le Comte de Tournon and Monsieur Georges Bergerault, inspector of Parisian dogs. While he was debasing himself with his two purveyors, while he was working at the destruction of his body as well as of his absent soul, this unfortunate soul... in a word, a great misfortune was occurring during this time. We inform the unhappy young man of it by this letter, which you, our worthy brother and his friend, will deliver to him after having acquainted yourself with its contents. Help us in our searches! May God keep you. The Brothers, etc.
I enclose with it the last letter to Émile in case he has not read it — Saetone will read it. Now that Andriot is fully informed, I shall continue the correspondence by routing it through his hands.
We went for a walk at the Villa Borghese, which is finer than that of the Doria.
There was a great crowd of people, and the charming Princess Margherita was walking on foot like a simple mortal, followed by her carriage with its coachman and two footmen in red livery.
This quantity of armorial carriages saddens me — we are nowhere, we know no one! God, help me in Rome! I have not even the consolation of longing for Nice — in Nice we are even worse off! In Rome there is at least some hope. My God — I am perhaps ridiculous with my torment and my endless prayers — but I am so miserable.
In the evening Maman asks me the date of last year's carnival — I consult my diary and, without realising it, spend two hours leafing through it. I have revisited the entire Girofla era, which transports me to Nice and gives me great anxiety. The Olive concerns me greatly. I feel myself weakening to the point of madness when I think that the Surprising One might marry, and that never, never shall I have my revenge! I am above all furious at my humiliating defeat. I am dreadfully ashamed of myself for having [words cancelled] more than noticed a man who spat on me. It is atrocious! I have exhausted all strong expressions — now I say atrocious and it does not seem enough.
This failure will not leave my head — I am so humiliated by it that I shall never forget it. You cannot understand this! I, who thought myself a queen, a fairy — I, who looked at everyone the way one looks at a little chalet from the top of a mountain — I, who believed I had only to wish for something! It is I who am done for!
[Words blacked out: Above all] it is this disruption of all my plans that vexes me. I have the look of a general who has boasted in advance and been defeated. Do you understand the atrocity of my position in my own eyes! God, God, God, God.
And he will marry and I shall remain for the rest of my life with an abominable memory! I hope God will not grieve me so greatly!
And what a face I shall make before the household! I am afraid of being afraid — for whenever I fear some vileness, it always comes to pass.
I dare not pray to God, for I need only pray for something for what I ask not to come about.
I dare not remain without praying, for afterwards I shall say: Ah! If only I had prayed to God!
I have decided — I shall pray; at least I shall have nothing to reproach myself with.
I had told myself: I live to be happy — everything must bow before me. And see what has come of it.
Even in despair I cannot help, deep down, doubting nothing and saying to myself: if not now then later — but it will be.
And so it is for all things.
Wait — I am looking for a phrase to summarize the situation; I have been looking for it ever since the situation became what it is, and I cannot find it.
I cannot find it — well, to the devil with it. I was so certain of everything — never had it occurred to me that anything could be lacking; a delay, yes — but a complete absence, come now! And I see with terror and humiliation that I have been mistaken, that nothing comes to me as I wish!
All my nerves go slack and I feel limp and stupid, astonished and grieved when I think that with Audiffret it would be yet another vileness!
It is not because I love him — I cannot love anyone seriously; what I love is a crown and money. But it is dreadful to think that everything slips away!
I had once again arranged everything for the second part of the story — and now it all falls to the distaff!
Ah! Bigre de bigre!
Damn it all! The wretchedness of wretchednesses!
If there is no longer an Audiffret, there is no longer a Nice! I never want to return there again — I wanted to return there only for him, because it was charming, amusing, proper! But without him!.. no — it is impossible.
The château inhabited by Monsieur and Madame d'Audiffret!
But what shall I look at morning and evening!
It is impossible. No — I do not want to say it is impossible, for in order to prove the contrary to me someone will go and make it possible. Who? God. Truly it would be very unkind of Him to occupy Himself in thwarting me. Ah! How anxious I am — ah! If only spring were already here! Ah! If only I could find everything in the same state!
At every moment I want to pray to God, and at every moment I stop — for I prayed so much for the Duke, and yet...
Fie — what a dreadful state!
I shall pray again, come what may. My God and Holy Virgin — do not mock me; take me under your protection and spare me the grief I fear so greatly!

Notes

"Brebis égarée" — the lost sheep of the parable (Luke 15:4–7); Marie uses the scriptural phrase with mock solemnity. ↩
"Prendre le froc" — to take the frock: to become a monk. ↩
"Avoué poursuivant" — a legal term: the solicitor who prosecutes in a civil action. ↩
"Folle enchère" — a "wild auction," the legal term for a forced resale at auction. ↩
"Vente à la criée" — public outcry sale: an auction by public announcement. ↩
"Sac de turpitudes" — a bag of depravities: a mock-legal characterization of Émile's moral contents. ↩
"Étrivière" — the stirrup strap, used historically as an instrument of corporal punishment. ↩
Lourdes: the famous Catholic pilgrimage site in the Pyrenees, where apparitions of the Virgin were reported in 1858. ↩
Princess Margherita of Savoy (1851–1926), daughter-in-law of King Victor Emmanuel II; she became Queen of Italy in 1878 and is remembered as the namesake of the Margherita pizza. ↩
Armorial carriages — carriages bearing painted coats of arms on their panels: a mark of aristocratic or princely rank. ↩
The "Girofla era" — a reference to the period when Marie and her circle used operetta nicknames from Giroflé-Girofla (Lecocq, 1874): Audiffret was "Girofla," Olga Sapogenikoff "Giroflé." ↩
Flambée: colloquially, "burned," meaning ruined or done for — a complete reversal of her previous self-assurance. ↩
"Tomber en quenouille" — to fall to the distaff: an idiom from Salic law meaning to pass into female hands (implying failure or dissolution), used figuratively for any plan that collapses. ↩
Bigre de bigre! — a mild French exclamation, a euphemism for bougre de bougre; roughly "blast it all!" ↩