Diary of Marie Bashkirtseff
CZENUKFR

Friday, 23 July 1880

I stay at home all day, the treatment being finished at half past five in the morning (begun at four), after which one stays in bed for an hour. And what do you expect me to do? When I have made music for an hour or two and read until my eyes are tired, there are still entire hours remaining. One lunches at half past ten.
The little Audiffrets often run through my head, and then inner lamentations about my fate.
Who will give me back my wasted, ravaged, lost youth? I am twenty-one and the other day I found three more white hairs; I boast of it --- it is a dreadful proof that I exaggerate nothing. Were it not for my childish face, I would look old, and yet there are days when wrinkles show under my eyes. And for some time I have discovered two barely visible lines starting from my nose, one going to join the corner of my mouth, the other disappearing into my cheek.
Is that natural at my age?
No! You see, such a storm rises from the depths of my heart that it is better to cut short everything, telling myself that I shall always have the recourse of blowing my brains out at twenty-five before anyone pities me.
I had an extraordinary voice; it was a gift from God, and I have lost it. Singing, for a woman, is what eloquence is to a man --- a limitless power.
When I complain, my family says: why do you do nothing? Intrigues. And how? They pushed me to write to Prince Ourousoff to ask him for a letter from Gortchakoff for Orloff, and he did not reply. He knew me at Soden with my aunt, and my family believed he would do everything.
Besides, what is surprising? We are from the provinces, with no connection to the capital and the Court. Grandfather already lived like a savage, as if to prepare my torment. When Maman became a young woman, she was taken to balls in Poltava and Kharkoff. At twenty-one she married my father, who passed for a rich man.
Indeed, the general had made himself an immense fortune for that region --- twelve thousand arpents of land, 50,000 rubles a year I believe. But there were four sisters; in short my father had from 25,000 to 30,000 rubles a year, he says much more but I believe he lies. But the household had been separated for ten years. Unable to bear life with the father-in-law and three old maids --- her sisters-in-law --- Maman fled to her own family, like a child without thinking of anything.
They lived in the country, seeing no one. Then a trip to Petersburg for Georges's affairs, where her radiant beauty won her some highly placed admirers, who having obtained nothing became indifferent. And the poor woman got nothing at all from it, except stories of triumph within the family. Added to that, Georges's scandals and the constant preoccupation of the whole family with getting him out of trouble. Then trips to Crimea where the Court spent the season. In 1867 Maman and I were at a post station through which the Emperor passed; the Emperor, seeing a beautiful young woman, addressed her and was very gracious. They met again in summer in Crimea. And whether the Emperor was not aggressive enough, or the woman was too innocent, it ended simply.
Worldly pleasures --- judge what they are for me.
Taine says and proves that wounds to pride contributed to making the Revolution. Great men have been sensitive to this; I am therefore sensitive.
On the walk, in the park onto which my window looks, I saw Mme de Rothschild, who came here with grooms, horses, etc., etc. The sight of that happy woman hurt me, but one must be brave. Besides, when a pain becomes acute, it is deliverance. When one reaches a certain point, one knows it can only diminish. It is while waiting for this crisis of the heart and soul that one suffers, but once one has arrived there, one is relieved. And then one calls Epictetus to one's aid, or one prays --- but prayer softens one.
Now I am better for a few days, during which the bitterness will mount, mount, mount; then again an outburst, then dejection, and always like that!
The affairs of Soulima and Dikan ended in a triumphant acquittal by jury; Maman is being presented, Alexandre and Etienne were already acquitted. Besides, it was a ridiculous affair and only dragged on because they were evading judgment out of fear. And when I said: go to Russia, have done with it! they replied that I doubtless wanted their death, or prison, or exile. That paints you the characters. I feel among my own like a rational being shut up in a madhouse. And as if my feet were caught in seaweed that rises and entwines me, I can only cry out, and I feel that even that is useless.
[In the margin: There was nothing to concern oneself about]