Monday, February 19, 2007

As terrible as suicide

Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh, from The Hague, c. 20-24 February 1883

Probably most people who read Notre Dame have the impression that Quasimodo was a kind of fool. But, like myself, you would not find Quasimodo ridiculous, and, like myself, you would feel the truth of what Hugo says, "For those who know that Quasimodo once existed, 'Notre Dame' is now empty. For not only did he live there, but he was the soul of it."

. . . One can apply to Thijs Maris the words, "Now there is an emptiness for those that know that it existed, for he was the soul of it, and the soul of this art was him." Well, Thijs Maris still exists, but not in his full bloom and strength, not unscathed; and disenchanted in so far as he can be disenchanted.

One of the most stupid things about the painters here is that even now they laugh at Thijs Maris. I think that as terrible as suicide. Why, as suicide? Because Thijs Maris is so much the personification of everything high and noble that in my opinion a painter cannot mock him without lowering himself. Whoever doesn't understand Maris, so much the worse for him; those who have understood him, mourn him, and regret that such a man has been broken. "A noble blade, a vile sheath" is applicable to Thijs Maris and to Quasimodo. "Within my soul I am beautiful."

Letter 268
Translation courtesy of Robert Harrison.
Back to The Way of Vincent: Making art no matter what

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