Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh (25 February 1882) ... her during the days
of your visit.
You write about Father's birthday. I must tell you that I am
so glad to be free of it all, it gives me such a feeling of
tranquillity, something I need so much for my work. My head
cannot hold more than it does, and I dread beginning a new
correspondence so much that for the present I am leaving things
as they are. When I think of Etten it gives me the shudders, as
if I were in church. Well, qu'y faire, and once more qu'y
faire?
By the way, you must not take it amiss, Theo, or think I'm
finding fault with you, but you wrote me something which you
thought would perhaps please me, but it didn't please me at
all. You said that small watercolour was the best of mine that
you had seen - well, it isn't, because those studies of mine
which you have are much better, and last summer's pen drawings
are better too. That little drawing is of no importance
whatever, I only sent it to show you that it is not impossible
that I may work in watercolour...
Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh (1-2 June 1882) ... towards and relations with my family.
Father keeps going on about the “respect and
obedience” I am supposed to owe him. I shall not claim
that a child does not owe his parents respect and obedience,
all I want is to point out that Father has taken undue
advantage of it more than once, for instance by immediately
labelling as disrespectful any difference of opinion one may
have with him. It would be a pretty kettle of fish if I ordered
my life the way Father would like me to. My drawing would most
certainly come to an end, for I should be unable to do any
more. I might be able to come to terms with Father's way of
thinking and talk things over with him if he acquired some
understanding of art, but that will never happen.
Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh (25 September 1882) ... something that gives you
pleasure.
Now I still have to tell you that quite unexpectedly I had a
very pleasant visit from Father, at my house at the studio; I
think this infinitely better than his hearing about me from
others.
If people come to see me, well, then their impression is at
least original, but I do not like opinions which are based on
what people say.
I was really very glad to see Father and to talk to him. I
again heard a great deal about Nuenen; that churchyard with the
old crosses. I cannot get it out of my head. I hope I shall be
able to paint it someday. I also heard a great deal about your
visit, and that you gave them that engraving after
Israëls, which greatly touched them.
I should have liked to send you a marine too, but the last
one is not quite dry. I might have sent the first one, but
since then I have caught the colour of the sea better, and so
I'll wait until one of the last ones is dry. I have painted
much more lately than I...
Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh (17 August 1883) ... continue to
understand each other.
I have quarreled with Father very often, but the bond
between us has never quite been broken.
Well, let nature simply follow its own course in this - you
will become what you must, I too will not remain exactly the
same as I am now; let's not suspect each other of absurd things
and we shall get on together. And let's not forget that we have
known each other from childhood, and that thousands of other
things can bring us more and more together.
I am a little worried about what seemed to worry you, and I
doubt if I know exactly what was the matter, or rather I
believe it is caused less by one definite thing than by the
fact that there are some points in which our characters differ,
and that you understand one thing better, I another.
I think it would be well for us to try to stick
together.
One thing - if I become too much of a burden to you, let the
friendship remain, even though you help me less in money
matters. I shall...
Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh (c. 6-7 December 1883) ...
Nothing, nothing of all that.
In Father's mind there was not then, there is not now, the
faintest shadow of a doubt that what he did was the right
thing.
Father does not know remorse like you and me and any man who
is human.
Father believes in his own righteousness, whereas you and I
and other human creatures are imbued with the feeling that we
consist of errors and efforts of the lost souls. I
commiserate with people like Father - in my heart of hearts
I cannot be angry with him - because I think they are more
unhappy than I. Why do I think them unhappy? - because the good
within them is wrongly applied, so that it acts like evil
because the light within them is black and spreads
darkness, obscurity around them.
Their cordial reception grieves me - their indulgence
without acknowledging their error is for me, perhaps worse than
the error itself. Instead of a ready understanding and a
certain eager contribution to my, and indirectly...
