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Thursday, 4 December 1879
I spoke to my masters about the Nice exhibition; they approve. But it would keep me away from the atelier for another two weeks, and it is already three weeks since I left it, and I look as though I am giving everything up. In a word, I am worried; I shall see Tony on Saturday.Jeudi 4 décembre 1879
This evening, dinner at La Mouzay’s. Ourselves; Count Gurowski (brother-in-law of Queen Isabella); Count Mazewski, a Pole from the Crédit Foncier; two Americans, Kent and Dubois; and finally Gaillard, whom I had invited so as to compliment him on his Chant des races latines1, published in Mme Adam’s Revue. He is a young man from Avignon with the irregular face of a Saracen and a cowlick on the crown of his head that makes him look comical, together with his bombast and his strange southern calm. La Mouzay pushes him forward and follows him as he struggles in the Parisian ocean, friendless, all alone. She has had him to dinner with L. Ulbach and others, and this lawyer who is also a poet is beginning to make his way. He writes very fine verse but recites it like [a] pig. I think, moreover, that he will end up in an asylum; there is something mad in his face. I talk with him because of his opinions and the people he sees, and he suggests that I do something for the Revue — translations from the Russian for him. You can well imagine that I am delighted and shall do it whenever he likes.
Ce soir dîner chez la Mouzay. Nous, le comte Gurowski (beau-frère de la Reine Isabelle), le comte Mazewski un Polonais du Crédit Foncier, deux Américains Kent et Dubois et enfin Gaillard que j’ai fait inviter pour le complimenter sur son chant des races latines, publié dans la Revue de Mme Adam. C’est un jeune homme d’Avignon à face irrégulière de Sarrasin avec un épi au sommet de l’occiput qui lui donne l’air cocasse avec son emphase et son calme étrange de méridional. La Mouzay le pousse et le suit se débattant dans l’océan parisien, sans amis, tout seul. Elle l’a fait dîner avec L. Ulbach et d’autres et cet avocat doublé d’un poète commence à percer. Il fait de très beaux vers mais il les dit comme [un] cochon. Je crois du reste qu’il finira dans une maison de santé, il a quelque chose de fou dans la figure. Je cause avec lui à cause de ses opinions et des gens qu’il voit et il me propose de faire quelque chose pour la Revue, de lui faire des traductions du russe. Vous pensez bien que je suis enchantée et le ferai quand il le voudra.
Notes
Chant des races latines means “Song of the Latin Races”; no English title is established, so the French title is kept. ↩