Diary of Marie Bashkirtseff
CZENUKFR

Monday, 1 January 1883

Gambetta,1 ill — or wounded — for several days, has just died.

Gambetta malade, ou blesse, depuis plusieurs jours, vient de mourir.

I cannot express the strange effect produced by this death. It is impossible to believe it. This man was so thoroughly a part of the life of the entire country that one cannot imagine anything without him. Triumphs, defeats, caricatures, accusations, praise, jokes — nothing stood without him.

Je ne peux pas dire l'etrange effet produit par cette mort. Il est impossible d'y croire. Cet homme faisait tellement partie de la vie du pays entier que l'on ne s'imagine rien sans lui. Triomphes, defaites, caricatures, accusations, louanges, blagues rien ne se tenait debout sans lui.

Perhaps... The papers speak of his fall — he never fell. His ministry!2 Can one judge a ministry of six weeks? What a farce, and what bad faith! One demands of a man to be fully effective within forty days, with the perpetual threat of being overthrown over a matter of india-rubber soup tureens with double catches.

Peut-etre... Les journaux parlent de sa chute, il n'est jamais tombe. Son ministere ! Est-ce qu'on peut juger un ministere de six semaines. Quelle plaisanterie et quelle mauvaise foi ! On demande a un homme d'etre fully en quarante jours avec la menace perpetuelle d'etre renverse pour une question de soupieres en caoutchouc a double detente.

But I am far from that agitation — isolated and stupefied by this wretched painting...

Mais je suis loin de cette agitation, isolee et abrutie par cette ignoble peinture...

Dead with seven doctors — and what interests around him, what desires to save him! What is the use of taking care of oneself, of tormenting oneself, of suffering. Death terrifies me now as if I could see it.

Mort avec sept medecins et quels interets autour de lui, quels desirs de le sauver ! A quoi bon se soigner, se tourmenter, souffrir. La mort m'epouvante a present comme si je la voyais.

Yes — it seems to me that it is coming... Soon. Ah, how small one feels! And to what end? Why? There must be something beyond; this transitory existence is not enough, not in proportion with our thoughts and aspirations. There is an afterlife — without which this life cannot be explained, and God would seem absurd.

Oui, il me semble que cela va venir... Bientot. Ah ! qu'on se sent petit ! Et a quoi bon ? Pourquoi ? Il doit y avoir quelque chose au dela, cette existence passagere n'est pas assez, n'est pas en proportion avec nos pensees et nos aspirations. Il y a l'au dela, sans quoi cette vie ne s'explique pas et Dieu semble absurde.

The life to come... There are moments when one glimpses it without understanding it, and one is terrified.

La vie future... Il y a des moments ou on l'entrevoit sans la comprendre et l'on est epouvante.

A sad New Year's Day with the Princess, Alexis and Dusautoy — sad to the point of death — who plays Chopin's incomparable Funeral March.3 The other day I fell on the staircase; this morning I nearly fell by my bath; people say this presages the end... So the card-readers would have lied... Possible.

Triste jour de l'an avec la princesse, Alexis et Dusautoy triste a mourir et qui joue l'incomparable "Marche funebre" de Chopin. L'autre jour je suis tombee dans l'escalier, ce matin j'ai failli tomber pres de mon bain, on dit que cela presage la fin... Alors les tireuses de cartes auraient menti... Possible.

What a wretched, wretched, wretched existence.

Quelle miserable, quelle miserable, quelle miserable existence.

And I am so slandered into the bargain. How does it happen? Ah! I shall never believe what people tell me about others. The world is infamous.

Je suis si calomniee par dessus le marche. Et comment cela se fait-il ? Ah ! je ne croirai jamais ce qu'on me dira des autres. Le monde est infame.

And what is atrocious is that everything anyone may wish to invent about me will always seem possible and credible... Try as I may... And I don't know how it happens. There are masses of people who occupy themselves with me, and as always they embroider and invent in order to make their conversations more interesting... Oh! sometimes I do this myself when speaking of others... Rarely — and now never again. I had a dream I cannot remember, but which left me with an impression of emptiness, nothingness, cold.

Et ce qui est atroce c'est que tout ce qu'on voudra inventer sur moi paraitra toujours possible et croyable... J'aurai beau faire... Et je ne sais comment cela se fait. Il y a une masse de gens qui s'occupent de moi et comme cela se trouve toujours rencherissent et inventent pour rendre leurs conversations plus interessantes... Oh ! quelquefois je fais cela moi-meme en parlant des autres... Rarement et a present plus jamais. J'ai fait un reve que je ne me rappelle pas mais qui m'a laisse une impression de vide, de neant, de froid.

I wrote to Étincelle4 to tell her that this year I would willingly do her daughter's portrait — [word blacked out: last] year I left for Nice, as I was bound to do. She replies with the most amiable and sympathetic of letters, saying she will send Mimie on 3 January. If I do it well, [crossed out: and a painting with] my fortune would be made. Breslau is doing the portrait of Mlle de Rodays, daughter of the managing director of the Figaro. Étincelle being the chronicle-writer of the Figaro, one would have first the worldly publicity, and then she would show it to Wolff.5

J'ai ecrit a Etincelle pour lui dire que cette annee je ferais volontiers le portrait de sa fille, [Mot noirci: l'annee] derniere je suis partie pour Nice comme je devais le faire et elle me repond par la plus aimable et la plus sympathique des lettres qu'elle m'enverra Mimie le 3 janvier. Si je le faisais bien [Raye: et un tableau avec] ma fortune serait faite. Breslau fait le portrait de Mlle de Rodays, la fille de l'administrateur du "Figaro". Etincelle etant la chroniqueuse du "Figaro", on aurait d'abord la reclame mondaine et ensuite elle le ferait voir a Wolff.

Notes

Léon Gambetta (1838–1882): the most celebrated French Republican statesman of the Third Republic, hero of the Franco-Prussian War and founder of the moderate Republican consensus. He died on 31 December 1882, aged forty-four, from a pistol wound (accidental or possibly suicide — the circumstances were never fully explained). His death was a shock of the first order to French political life. ↩
His ministry: Gambetta formed his "Grand Ministry" in November 1881, with great hopes — but it fell after only seventy-three days in January 1882, brought down by parliament on minor procedural grounds. Marie's mockery of the pretext is accurate: the opposition was searching for any occasion to defeat him. ↩
Chopin's Funeral March: the third movement of Chopin's Piano Sonata No. 2 in B-flat minor, Op. 35 — one of the most famous pieces of funereal music in the 19th-century repertoire. Dusautoy playing it on New Year's Day, after Gambetta's death, was entirely appropriate. ↩
Étincelle: the pen-name of Comtesse de Martel, Marie-Mathilde ("Gyp"), one of the leading journalists and society chroniclers of the Figaro. Her daughter "Mimie" was a potential portrait commission. ↩
Albert Wolff (1835–1891): the powerful art critic of the Figaro, whose approval or dismissal could make or break a Salon career. Marie had been watching for his notice since her first exhibitions. ↩