Sunday, 14 October 1877

How can one not adore Verdi. I know nothing more remarkable than his Aïda. Every chord and every phrase speaks. I truly believe one would understand the meaning of the piece and in what country it is set and everything — without seeing the stage and without hearing the words. It is in this sense that I place Aïda above all music in the world. And then what charm, what force, what exquisite feeling.
You know, I do not speak of it from the learned point of view — I could not, and it would be a pity. One is more... one enjoys it more not knowing how it is made.
Having no serious ambition in music, I know of it only what is required of a person of taste who does not wish to compose.
It is this evening, playing airs from Aïda on my mandolin, that I am wild about it. I had forgotten music... Music inclines one toward life, toward gaiety, toward tears, toward love — toward everything that stirs, contents, and torments — whereas drawing is a labour that lifts you from the earth and renders you indifferent to everything save your art.
I was taken for a drive in the Bois — the weather was very fine and the air so mild that I fancied myself in Italy. One must contrive something for Sundays — I am vexed to lose a day each week, for I do not know how to rest; when I rest, I am bored.
No doubt the study of music demands the same application, the same absorption — but so long as one performs it, whether for oneself or for others, one must submit to all its influences.
One becomes passionate about drawing, about painting — but they never will make you... — I go mad when I cannot express my thought!!
Besides, I say things perfectly well known — I only wish it to be known what I think of them.
The music of Aïda is like the Gretchen of Max. It speaks — it tells you the whole story, down to the slightest nuances; I assure you one can tell whether a scene takes place indoors or in the open, by day or by night, simply by hearing the music.
While I say these abstract things, “breathless France” awaits the election results. For today is the day. The Marshal must have had a poor dinner this evening. How much I regret having no one to keep me informed of all these machinations.

Notes

The legislative elections of 14 October 1877, held after Marshal MacMahon dissolved the Chamber in the crisis of 16 May; the republicans kept their majority, with 313 of 521 seats (en.wikipedia «1877 French legislative election»). ↩