Wednesday, 23 May 1883

The whole night without sleeping, wrapped in opium, numb and dreamless yet aware of every hour passing, free from mental agitation.
Utterly weak this morning.
They are voting today on those contemptible mentions.
Had I not taken the syrup, I should not have slept anyway, and I would be in a terrible state.
God knows what a day this will be.
I have just slept for more than two hours. It is five o’clock in the evening. I have done nothing, and shall do nothing.
Tomorrow morning is the reopening of the Salon. Despicable Julian!
Why did he cause me such turmoil! I should have been so much calmer.
This evening everything will be decided. There are only a few more hours to endure.
Ah! This is not cheerful.
There are so many parties in Paris, and I am shut up within four walls.
They mentioned Mlle Martinoff at Mme de Pourtalès’s… And I am to be denied even that sort of artistic consolation! So much promised, and which gave me barely any pleasure to begin with. The pettier the thing the more vexing it is — one might at least grieve over something worth grieving for. But to be blackballed by some notary’s clerk!…
No. It would be without will… It is not unpleasant.
Saint-Amand, Dusautoy, Alexis, the Engelhardts. I shall not need to trouble myself planting in Saint-Amand the idea of marrying me. For some time already he has been speaking of it — half in jest, half in earnest — and falls in with all my ideas.
What does he think? Does he truly believe I belong entirely to art? Why not? Or else—
I leave everyone and try to fall asleep… A gentle sleep, as in the daytime. For at night I did not sleep — and yet it was like a dream, and I could not direct my thoughts; I tried several times to turn my mind to romantic things but the narcotic vapour left me without will… It is not unpleasant.

Notes

The Salon reopened after the jury’s vote on the awards. ↩