Wednesday, 30 May 1883

This evening, a grand charity fête at the mansion of the Duke of Bisacio... A Japanese party in aid of I know not what. Twenty-five francs admission, and all of Paris. The Trocadéro would be more convenient, but the majority came because of the Bisacio mansion. Society is stupid, but that is how it is. I go with Madame Gavini, who strikes me as very common this evening, and I am bored throughout, having had the luck to give my arm to some nondescript little gentleman whose name I cannot quite remember — a friend of the Gavinis. Since one could only stroll about, it was impossible to change escorts, and I encounter a crowd of acquaintances who congratulate me on the mention. The entertainment consists of having cleared the entire mansion of its furniture and arranged two or three salons on the first floor in Japanese style; twelve patronesses in Japanese costumes were to serve tea. I believe no one actually had any — people contented themselves with crushing together everywhere. These ladies were very poorly costumed: cheap fabrics arranged in a most unfortunate manner, bodices in the Paris fashion with Japanese sleeves — these compromises and this mixture produced a ridiculous effect. Not one of them dared to wear a real Japanese robe, ample, graceful, rich. They wanted to preserve their waist, and the result was dreadful. The men are somewhat better. There are also some Japanese plays performed by Granier, Coquelin, Reichemberg, etc. But only a thousand people can be seated in the theatre, and in any case people shout and chatter so loudly that one hears complaints of not being able to hear a thing. We do not even attempt to enter. What is beautiful is the greenhouse as it stands, and the illuminated garden. On the whole the proceeds are splendid, and that was the point — so all is perfect.