Monday, 21 January 1884

Mme Sapogenikoff is passing through Paris on her return from Nice, and I find the good Nina of the Nice days again when I get her to say to the architect: “My regards to M. Jules.” This good brother came this evening because I had sent him a small Russian towel with Jules’s head embroidered in the centre in red cotton, with these words above in blue cotton: HIS HEAD. I know that head by heart — I stitched it once on the sewing machine, and this time embroidered it on canvas. With Nina and the Orthodox priest gone, I batter him again with: “no, but admit he has a vile character — and ugly with it!” — “An ignoble disposition!” — “A cretin, for he does not appreciate me!
You understand — it is from the Auvergnat point of view that I speak of appreciating; well, those who do not appreciate me I despise, for they are idiots.”
— If he does not appreciate you sufficiently, it is because you are not natural with people who do not know you!
— Why doesn’t he know me then? He is a sluggish, whining creature!
— You saw him when he was ill.
— No matter.
But I am telling you all about these verbal jousts as if the real Jules were to be informed of them — whereas his architect of a brother tells him nothing; oh! but he will...
— Come now — here is Madame (Nina), who is an intelligent woman and appreciates me; here is Monsieur (the Orthodox priest), who is equally intelligent, and he appreciates me; and you, whether intelligent or not, appreciated me at once, whether I was natural or not. Therefore he is worse than an old empty paint tube.
— But I was dazzled at once...
— Yes, turn it into a joke, I advise you to — it is no less horrible for that.
What a vile disposition.

Notes

Auvergnats were stereotyped as shrewdly practical and hard-nosed in their judgments. ↩