Monday, 9 June 1884

Anniversary mass for my father.
It rains — and the painting it delays!!
I write a kind letter to the poor architect — he has not even been admitted among the six who will compete in the final round. It is hard. The Gambetta monument commission would have meant emerging from the shadows at a stroke — being decorated, gaining some personal reputation in his own right rather than living in the crushing shadow of his brother's fame.
A whole lifetime of light glimpsed for an instant and lost for ever. Poor fellow. His design was very cold and not in keeping with Gambetta's personality — there were very few figures, those to be done by Dation; the architecture dominated... I did not see it well, but it seemed to me very cold, very sad, of a very pure style. It would make an imposing funerary monument... even so... In sum, the poor fellow must be very unhappy.

I went to see the Canroberts this morning. We are still tenderly friends, and they are truly good people. The Maréchale wishes me to paint the Marshal's portrait. He already has one by Nelly Jacquemart.
But it is the Wrestlers that are taking shape. I went to see some at Montmartre in the afternoon. My God, how interesting the street is! The faces of people, each one's particularity, the plunges one makes into unknown souls. To bring all that to life — or rather to seize the life of each one! People paint Roman gladiators they have never seen, using Parisian models — why not paint the wrestlers of Paris with the common people of Paris? In five or six centuries it will be antique, and the imbeciles of that age will venerate them.

The Canroberts come at five o'clock and carry me off to dine with them. I had nothing to wear in this heat — but since there is only Mlle de Vatry, Claire's closest friend... I go.
In the evening we play Cumberland. Cumberland is the curiosity of this season — he has given demonstrations everywhere. He is a kind of spiritualist who repudiates spiritualism and relies solely on the will. I am too hurried to give you my ideas on the subject. In brief: a blindfolded person is to do what the others gathered there will her to do. Nothing is said — one or two of the bystanders hold her by the waist or the wrist while concentrating hard on what she is to perform. Until I succeeded myself I believed it was all trickery. But afterwards... It is very curious.
One must think of nothing, and one feels pushed from the knees towards the place in question. Arriving there, I felt my hand rise and I went to open the first page of an album — the first page only.
I executed this very exactly. Then I went to take a photograph from the piano. It is truly astonishing.

Many visitors for Maman's name day. I am elegance itself! A gown in the purest Louis XVI style, in grey taffeta with a waistcoat of white silk muslin.
There is Missak — who, it seems, does not find me utterly repellent.
The dowry! And besides, I am charming. [Words blacked out: He comes almost every] Saturday, and then...
But the thing is, today I am cheerful for no reason.
I imagine that Jules Bastien-Lepage loves me, that Maupassant is thinking of me, that...
I went to Sèvres but came back quickly — I had taken a model with me, but a model is not a real country girl, and I shall return to our dishwasher.
This Armandine who will not do — you can tell so clearly that she has danced at the Eden-Théâtre. So I, who claim to paint the inner life of people, would have made a little minx dressed up as a peasant.
What I need is a big slow lump of a girl who daydreams, overwhelmed by the heat, and who will yield to the first... peasant who comes along.
So this Armandine is of an ideal stupidity — I set her talking. When stupidity does not irritate it amuses; one listens with benevolent curiosity. And then I glimpse a whole world of customs, and I fill in these glimpses with my intuition, which I shall call remarkable, if you will permit.
In the evening I astonish Esteoule and the little Staritskys by performing Cumberland.
Here is L'Evénement with an article on Maupassant. Since it has been so long since he wrote to me, I am beginning to take notice of him.