Saturday, 14 May 1881

I receive a charming letter from Mme de Peyronney thanking me for flowers Maman sent her on my behalf. It is too much — she did not come today; there were the Gavinis, la Linsingen, Moreau. Apparently many people are looking at my canvas, and Adeline says it is very good.
Villevieille came to deliver a blow this morning. She had spoken with Julian, who told her that Breslau will receive a prize — that he tried for both her and me, and that for me it does not work. "Not painted enough; if only," says Julian, "it were painted like your ordinary studies, it would be sufficient." So since it was not possible for me and was possible for Breslau, he will push for Breslau; he is sorry because he does not like her — but she is a house student and it is for the business. In any case I am to bring him my studies and we will talk.
He tells me the same thing he told Villevieille. He is even very kind about it — sugarcoats the pill with a consideration that moves me. I was counting on nothing at all — but the moment he and Villevieille seem to think that I might have hoped for something... it affects me. Julian gets me worked up over this just as over Cassagnac. And I feel all the pain he supposed I must feel, and which I was not feeling before. He pays me compliments — on my dress, which is exquisite — and in the end tries to be kind, believing me to be wounded... I am. But as it is a natural and personal vexation, I do not complain and do not weep.
And yet I assure you I am stunned — it is as if... I feel drunk. I would perhaps not have thought of it had others not thought of it for me. Julian says I was ill, that is why it is not sufficient — and I tell him it was Amélie's canvas that had unnerved me. In any case, that is how it is... "There will have to be," he says, "a greater prize to erase this one."
Ah, quite so. "You are content," he adds, "to stay where you are — but if another takes one step forward you would want to take two..." Always true.
I told you Breslau was a force. And Julian persisting in saying she is not my equal and that with a little more will-power I would beat her... Ah, quite so.
I am unhappy in everything. But now I am going to work so hard!!...
And yet I know nothing. Julian says the only one who was willing to put his weight behind it was Cot.
Ah — the brave man, I am moved by it; I shall submit to his lessons. The brave man.
It is a great blow; I feel weak as after a long illness — my head cannot hold itself up and wants to fall to right and left, and my voice is extinguished. Pitiable, in a word. My family is at the circus.
Here is my Salon review in La Citoyenne — it is not bad.
"Breslau's name will be on many lips," says Julian.
In short it is all the harder since these people seem to believe it is hard for me... And there is nothing to be done. "If one could do anything — an injustice or whatever — it would be done," says Julian, "but between nothing and something there is no hesitation."
Breslau put "student of Tony Robert-Fleury" in the catalogue — and then made a public apology before Julian — and the whole thing will bring honour to the establishment. Fine.
He consoles me by saying that Breslau has been working longer — that she was already painting when I had not yet begun to draw. That is true enough, but... it is nobody's fault but mine...
In any case there are painful realities in life.

Notes

Louise Breslau (1856–1927): Swiss-German painter, a fellow student at the Atelier Julian who would indeed receive a mention honorable at this Salon — her first major recognition. She would go on to a distinguished career. Marie's rivalry with her is a recurring theme.
Pierre-Auguste Cot (1837–1883): French academic painter famous for his romantic subjects; he was on the jury and apparently willing to advocate for Marie's canvas.
La Citoyenne: the feminist newspaper founded by Hubertine Auclert (1881), in which Marie had invested and for which she wrote a Salon review. The review appearing marks the fulfilment of her earlier plan.