Wednesday, 23 February 1881

I go on dreaming of my family. Mme Anitchkoff writes that Maman is doing the impossible to leave but cannot manage it. It is very tiresome. So instead of improving things, this journey will have entangled them further... This evening I resign myself. I am one of those victims whom Providence rescues in novels — but not in life. My God, if I were absolutely, irremediably lost, that would be a solution... There are balls every evening, the Carnival in Rome... Reading all those Roman names and the Race of the Barbieri and the Corso!... It grips you by the throat like Gambetta's word. Not a thought for the little Italian Antonelli — oh, nothing. But Rome, but Italy. When the newspapers speak of it I skip past, because it makes me too sad! This evening I succumbed to temptation and read the correspondence. Death with the feeling of life!
I do have an invitation at Mme de Tunis's — but it is small beer.

Notes

The Race of the Barbieri (Riderless Horse Race) and the Corso: the Corsa dei Barberi was the famous riderless horse race down the Via del Corso that formed the climax of the Roman Carnival. Marie had attended the Carnival in Rome in earlier years; the newspaper accounts of it torture her with nostalgia.