1883 (At least through the end of August)
So, in 1883, Victor has been immersed in his art to the exclusion of everything else, it seems. Yet he hasn't lost that quick sympathy that makes his family so nuts. He loves that which is worn and bent and nearly broken by life. He can be so utterly myopic when he's talking about his current obsession, but then he looks at something (usually someone) that everyone else dismisses, and he really sees it (or him or her), and that redeems him from all of the requests for money and wild fancies...at least to me.
Victor Hugo says: “Par-dessus la raison il y a la conscience.” [Above the intellect there is conscience]; there are things which we feel to be good and true, though many things remain incomprehensible and dark in the cold light of reason and calculation. And though the society in which we live considers such actions thoughtless, or reckless, or foolish, or I don't know what else - what can we say once the hidden forces of sympathy and love have been aroused in us? And though it may be that we cannot argue against the reasoning which society usually employs, against those who allow themselves to be led by sentiment and to act from impulse - arguing is not the principal thing, and he who has kept his faith in God sometimes hears the soft voice of conscience; then one does well to follow it with the naïveté of a child, without saying more about it to others than can be helped. - Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh, The Hague, c. 11 January 1883
Perseverance is the great thing in love, once it has taken hold of us. That is, if the love is returned, for if it is decidedly not returned, one is literally absolutely helpless.- Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh, The Hague, c. 11 January 1883
In early February, he caught a cold and was feeling very dreary, that life was "the colour of dishwater". I understand this feeling completely just at the moment. I should also probably not listen to "Bookends" while reading Van Gogh's letters.
Suppose a man experiences a disappointment through a cruel injury to his love, a disappointment so deep that he is calmly desperate and desolate - such a condition is possible, for there is something like the white heat of steel or iron. Feeling that he has been disappointed irrevocably and absolutely, and carrying within himself the consciousness of it as a deadly, at least an incurable, wound, and yet going about his ordinary affairs with an unruffled countenance... would it be inexplicable to you that a man in this condition should feel a singular sympathy, involuntary and unintentional, for somebody he meets who is deeply unhappy, oh, perhaps unhappy beyond redress? And that, notwithstanding this, that sympathy or love or tie should be and remain strong? When Love is dead, is it impossible for Charity to be alive and awake still? - Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Anthon van Rappard, The Hague, c. 7 February 1883
I tell you this because you spoke of disenchantment; no, no, it is true there is a withering and budding in love as in nature, but nothing dies entirely. It is true there is an ebb and flow, but the sea remains the sea. And in love, either for a woman or for art, there are times of exhaustion and impotence, but there is no permanent disenchantment.
I consider love as well as friendship not just a feeling but also a positive action, and as such it requires doing things and exerting oneself, and exhaustion and impotence are the consequences.
A sincere and true love is a blessing, I think, though that doesn't prevent occasional hard times. - Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh, The Hague, 11 February 1883
In his letter of February 20, Vincent complains about the harsh light that new buildings let in, and it made me giggle a bit. I think he would _hate_ our modern, high powered, high definition everything.
I believe such things are true, the influence exerted by a good person is sometimes far reaching. Curiously enough, it has been compared to leaven. Two good people - man and woman combined - with the same intentions and object in life, actuated by the same serious purpose, what couldn't they accomplish!
I have often thought of that.
For, by co-operating, the power of goodness is not just doubled, but multiplied many times, as by involution, to use a mathematical term. - Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh, The Hague, c. 21 March 1883
I even find something animating in the thought that one works in one direction, the other in another, yet there is still mutual sympathy. Competition, when it proceeds from jealousy, is quite a different thing from trying one's best to make the work as good as possible, out of mutual respect. “Les extrêmes se touchent.” I do not see any good in jealousy, but I would despise a friendship which did not call for some exertion on both sides to maintain the same level.- Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh, The Hague, c. 21 March 1883
We are surrounded by poetry on all sides, but putting it on paper is, alas, not as readily done as looking at it. - Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh, The Hague, 21-28 March 1883
I believe that the more one loves, the more one will act; for love that is only a feeling I would never recognize as love. - Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Anthon van Rappard, The Hague, c. 8 May 1883
Look, man has no stauncher friend than his duty, and though at times it may be a rough and stern taskmaster, as long as one works in its service, one will not easily become a bankrupt. - Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh, The Hague, 3 June 1883
This year has been incredibly difficult financially. Throughout July and August he speaks of debtors knocking at the door and of he and his small family going without food and feeling weak and faint. The stress over money worsens his depression, which comes out now and again in his letters. With it all, he remains firmly committed to his art, refusing to simply create watercolors that may be adequate, instead pursuing some internal ideal. It's infuriating to watch, but it is how he has always been - determined to make his own path.
