Saturday, 12 July 1884

As the little one had written to me, I went to Jouy with Maman. And I have come back more on edge than ever.
These people say that if I paint the wrestlers it will be an act of defiance, that society will say heaven knows what, and so on. I swear I cannot understand such stupidity. In short, these people irritate me, but if a subject truly holds me there is no consideration on earth that can stop me from doing it. Besides, if I were to mention these scruples to Bastien-Lepage or even to Tony, they would shrug their shoulders. The Canroberts want another painting for the next Salon, and since I am well and shall paint it for them, I am furious in advance at this weakness.
Ah! Misery!
Some jellied salmon was sent to Jules. He deigned to find it good and was willing to eat some, expressing the wish to keep some for the evening. The cook tells Rosalie that three kinds of fish were ordered for lunch, but Monsieur Jules found them disagreeable to look at and had them removed, forbidding his mother and brother to eat them either. That is rather radical, but they find everything he does perfectly right and had to eat lunch on the sly.
Ah! The old eccentric! But people speak of him with tenderness, and this evening an extraordinary cup of broth was sent to him.
All the same, these Canroberts bore me to death. Can you imagine people saying to an artist: instead of such-and-such you ought to do such-and-such? Why not do this or that, for instance?
Ah! Misery.