Diary of Marie Bashkirtseff
CZENUKFR

Sunday, 23 July 1882

We encounter Julian at the Bois and he comes at about seven o'clock to see the head of Villevieille, which is good. In the evening Dusautoy plays, Estéoul sings, Saint-Amand is enchanted, and I make sketches — only very saddened. All while looking at my picture Julian was making fun of the Magdalene, and then:
"Ah, that reminds me... Madeleine."
"What?"
"In the beginning — you had been coming to the studio for about a year... You were such a devil... No one knew you..."
"Well?"
"Dreadful things."
"What sort of dreadful things."
"I always thought it was only youth — the exuberance of childhood...!"
"And then?"
"But the others... And now that I know you, I see how many absurdities were talked..."
"But what sort of absurdities..."
"Oh, nothing, you understand... Your character is now established, people say nothing more, but... then..."
"But really you are insufferable — what, who, what is it?!"
So it appears that one day "in a salon" when my name was mentioned someone said: "Ah, she knows a thing or two, that one." It would take too long to transcribe Julian's circumlocutions, but in short they said that I am a thorough adventuress — in short... that I have had... definitive... adventures. Julian recounts this as some remote nonsense that can only be laughed at as a madness. But I am stunned by it... So people can say such things of me??? There are then people who believe that is how it is? So there are people who entertain such horrors.
So when I said outrageous things in jest — as if they were impossible... People believed that... And I who thought I was being witty with these daring innocent remarks...
So when I say laughingly "I adore so-and-so" people believe it is true? No... But what then??
So... Perhaps I encounter people who do not believe me to be what I am? There are people who believe I am a young woman who has had affairs?
But it is horrible, it is infamous, it is odious!! Ah, I pity myself. Protests here. What use are they?
Oh, to escape from this! Oh, a revenge! For, my God, you can see this is not just...
So that is why certain people... In the end Cassagnac himself may have thought... In three days the impression will fade... But... And if I become famous they will say still more... And in the end nothing in the world will be able to erase what I have never done!!
But... How does God suffer such injustices and such lies?
He suffers far worse...