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RM18 Fragment of a letter to Theo van Gogh containing a copy of the poem ‘St Jerome’s love’ by Thomas Moore. Saint-Rémy-de-Provence, about November-December 1889.

metadata
No. RM18 (Brieven 1990 -, Complete Letters 623)
From: Vincent van Gogh
To: Theo van Gogh
Date: Saint-Rémy-de-Provence, about November-December 1889

Source status
Original manuscript

Location
Amsterdam, Van Gogh Museum, inv. no. b672 c V/1962

Date
The letter fragment and poem were probably written about November-December 1889: on p. 1 Bernard’s parents are mentioned (they also appear in letter 823 of 26 November 1889 and letter 827 of 9 or 10 December 1889). Van Gogh also copied the poem in letter 832 of about 23 December 889.

Additional
In Verzamelde brieven 1973 and De brieven 1990, this text was assigned to letter 839, but we see no reason to do so, nor can we find a compelling argument to place it with any other letter. It seems, rather, that Van Gogh kept the sheet for himself because of the poem he copied on p. 2, since the sheet is torn all around this poem.
Because he added several lines of verse in this version (ll. 35a-35e), it is highly likely that he attempted to reconstruct the poem. We therefore assume that this loose leaf – which, considering the remark about Seurat (l. 21), must originally have been addressed to Theo – was never sent.

original text
 1r:1
exagéré dans l’oeuvre. Que des parents ignorants au point de vue de la peinture cessent d’aimer un enfant un peu autrement que le reste – c’est certes un malentendu terrible – mais même s’ils comprenaient la peinture – comment le leur trop reprocher dans cette societe d’argent et de militaires.– C’est pourquoi s’il faisait son service1 ce ne serait pas plus malheureux pour lui, ce serait s’avouer vaincu par la fatalité encore à temps. Qu’est devenu Vignon?2
Enfin ceci est certain, il ne s’agit pas de faire le fier ou d’avoir grande espérance pour la suite. Prenons les réalités terribles comme elles sont et s’il faut que moi je laisse la peinture je crois que je le ferai. En tout cas je veux bien encore une fois essayer avec une meilleure santé qu’il y a deux ans si je ne trouve pas une position quelconque. Je me le suis souvent dit que si il y a deux ans j’eusse eu un temperament plus calme comme Seurat par exemple, je aurais pu résister.

 1v:2
Who is the maid my spirit seeks3
Through cold reproof & slanders blight
has she loves roses on her cheeks
Is hers an eye of calm delight?
No, wan & sunk with midnight prayer
As the worn looks of her I love
And if by chance a light be there
As fire was kindled from above
I choose not her mine hearts elect
Amongst those who seek their makers’ shrine
In gems and garlands proudly decked
As if themselves were things divine
And they who come in glittering dress
to mourn their frailty yet are frail
No heaven but faintly warm the breast
That beats beneath a broidered veil.
Not so the form of her I love
And... because her bloom is gone
But ne’er was beauty’s bloom so bright
So touching as that forms decay
That like the altars wavering light
In holy lustre fades away.

translation
 1r:1
exaggerated in the work. That parents who are ignorant from the point of view of painting should stop loving a child who’s a little different from the rest – that’s certainly a terrible misunderstanding – but even if they understood painting, how could one reproach them for it too much in this society of money and military men? That’s why, if he did his military service,1 it wouldn’t be more unfortunate for him, it would be to admit in good time that one has been vanquished by fate. What became of Vignon?2
Anyway, this is certain, it’s not a matter of putting on a proud front or having great hopes for what comes next. Let’s take the terrible realities as they are, and if I have to abandon painting I think I shall. In any case, I really want to see, one more time and with better health than two years ago, if I can’t find some sort of position. I’ve often told myself that if, two years ago, I’d had a calmer temperament like Seurat, for example, I could have resisted.

 1v:2
Who is the maid my spirit seeks3
Through cold reproof and slanders blight
Has she loves roses on her cheeks
Is hers an eye of calm delight?
No, wan and sunk with midnight prayer
As the worn looks of her I love
And if by chance a light be there
As fire was kindled from above
I choose not her mine hearts elect
Amongst those who seek their makers’ shrine
In gems and garlands proudly decked
As if themselves were things divine
And they who come in glittering dress
To mourn their frailty yet are frail
No heaven but faintly warm the breast
That beats beneath a broidered veil.
Not so the form of her I love
And... because her bloom is gone
But ne’er was beauty’s bloom so bright
So touching as that forms decay
That like the altars wavering light
In holy lustre fades away.
notes
1. Emile Bernard’s military service.
2. It is not known what Vincent is enquiring about here. Theo was in touch with Victor Vignon, one of the less successful Impressionists. The estate includes three of his works. See Monneret 1978-1981, vol. 3, p. 53, and cat. Amsterdam 1987, p. 363. Cf. also FR b4302 and b1179.
3. Regarding the poem ‘Who is the maid? St. Jerome’s love’ by Thomas Moore, see letter 832, n. 2, and RM12.