Diary of Marie Bashkirtseff
CZENUKFR

Thursday, 2 September 1880

"He read a great deal, moreover; he gave himself that profound and serious instruction that one owes only to oneself and to which all people of talent have devoted themselves between twenty and thirty." Picked from Balzac, this sentence flatters me.
But here, I have rented a garden in Passy, 65 rue de Ranelagh, to do studies in the open air. I begin with Irma, nude, under a tree, half-length, life-size.
It is still warm enough, and one must hurry. That is how life passes. And I was astonished not to make conquests, but except for my tradesmen, who sees me? Well, I prefer it that way; I do not know what makes me have apprehensions of I know not what; it seems to me that troubles are going to befall me, that... Well, shut in alone, working, I shall think myself safe... but men are so stupid and so wicked that they come to seek you out in your corner to give you grief.
But what can happen? I do not know, something they will invent or distort; they will repeat it to me, and I shall be pained by it...
Or else some villainy will happen... not serious, but sad, humiliating, in my line after all. All this is far from going to Biarritz.
"Go there then," old Mme Gavini said to me, "you must go there; you will be seen, you will be known. This is not an existence for a young girl. I am going to tell your mother or your aunt, they must have dresses made and take you at least to the Foreign Ministry so you can dance a little... Finally you will go to Biarritz, it is very elegant, you will see people there."
Dash it! as they say in high society. Well, provided they leave me in peace, I am willing, being unable to do otherwise, to remain shut up... in my garden at Passy.
No matter, here is a horrible youth for a woman. A man suffers until thirty; at thirty he makes a place for himself, he breaks through, and he enjoys life. Woman has the specter of the old maid pursuing her. Suppose I have talent, enough to do without everyone, around twenty-six; a young man famous at twenty-six is a little phenomenon. A woman is only a girl almost past her prime; she has talent, but at that age everything becomes difficult, and then it would be nothing, but... to wait so long! No, that is not it either; I no longer know.
After all, rich, why did she not marry before? For they suppose that I was willing to buy a titled husband; there is something, what? They will not believe that I despised the fortune hunters, and despised them not only on moral grounds but because it seems pitiful to me with my poor dowry. If I had 300,000 francs a year, I would pay for a gentleman, but having 300,000 francs a year I would not have needed that; all doors would be open and I could have found... Well, what is there to say...