Saturday, 16 June 1883

The Duchesse de Fitz-James stayed an hour, then others; it interrupts work, and I am furious.
So then, I withdraw the title of masterpiece from Bastien’s paintings. Why? Because his Love in the Village sets my teeth on edge, or because I lack the courage of my opinion? One dares deify only the dead; if Millet were alive, what would people say of him? And besides, there are only six canvases of Millet there; shall we not find six equivalent canvases in the rue Legendre? Not a hope! 1. Joan of Arc; 2. The portrait of his brother; 3. Le Soir au village; 4. Haymaking; 5. I do not know everything, and he is not dead yet. Bastien is less Millet’s son than Cazin, who resembles him a great deal, or rather more... young... Bastien is original; he is himself. One always derives a little from someone, but then the personality emerges. Besides, poetry, force, charm are always the same, and if seeking them is imitating, then it would be enough to make one despair. One feels a keen impression before a Millet; one finds it again before a Jules... What does that prove?
Superficial people say imitations. They are wrong: two different actors in different plays can move you in the same way, because true, human, intense feelings are always the same.
There are some ten lines by Étincelle about me, altogether gracious. I am a remarkable painter, a beautiful girl and a pupil of Bastien-Lepage. Take that!
I saw the bust of E. Renan at Saint-Marceaux’s, and yesterday I saw Renan go by in a cab.
I recognised him at once.
There is a likeness, at least! Renan, who has studied Judaea and Judaism... his bust?
More and more Jewish, Saint-Marceaux.

Notes

Le Soir au village: “Evening in the Village.” ↩