Vincent. A Life of Vincent van Gogh. By Julius Meier-Graefe,
Van. Gogh .
Trans. by J. Holroyd-Reece.(Michael Joseph. 7s. 6d.) Letters to an ArtiSt. From Vincent van- Gogh to Anton Ilidcler.
van RapPeird. Trims: by Rein van Messel. (Constable. 144.) Trio.' blurb- on the dustcovert.._which the, publishers claim to have &dives' ed from reviews of Vincent when it first appeared, informs its that its sources include Van Gogh's letters to Cezanne and Renoir. Since it is generally known that Van Gogh never had any intercourse of any kind with either of these two the reader is conveniently put on his guard as to what the book itself may have to say. To give him his due, Meier-Graefe never misleads us so far as that, though in view of his extravagant use of such slender memorials as do exist of the friendship with Seurat, he might almost as well have yielded to the temptation.
It is presumably a -testimony of its continued popularity that Vincent is now reprinted itt once` more, though it is an open question whether the book has done its 'subjeCt iniiiehaniVor
good ; for it is the most extreme example which has yet found general favour of the biographie romantie. One hears every-. where repeated—often with additions—Meier-Graefe's version of the ear-cutting episode as though it were historical ; whereas all the improbable circumstantial .details With whith he invests it (down to the names of the girls in the brothel, their nicknames for Vincent and Gauguin, 8,:e.), are the merest fiction. This is what Meier-Graefe called "filling out the gaps." One is puzzled to know why lie began- to inN;ent before he had properly absorbed all the evidence which already then existed. The book contains errors such as suggest that the author cannot have made a close study of the letters to Theo. The episode of the Woman who was like "some curious figure by Chardin or Frere, or perhaps -Jail Steen" occurred before he had gone" to 'settle in The Hague, and immediately after he had finally given up hope of being loved by his cousin, "K" " .; hence the symbolic meaning which it held for him. There were two Zouaves, whom he painted, the lieutenant, Millet, and a boy. Meier-Grade makes an impossible identification of them. His narration of the death is incorrect, andc as in -some other cases, less dramatic than the real Story. At other times it is melodrama- tised with curious vulgarity. .
But it is the extraordinary disproportion of the book which confirms the suspicion • that Meier-Graefe had no understanding of the letters so lively as he had of the pictures. The last four years of Van Gogh's life take up 200 out of the 280 pages—that is to say, five-sevenths of this biography are devoted to one-ninth of its subject's life. It is inevitable that the first eight-ninths of the story fail to convey in the two-sevenths which are allotted to them any sense of the development and the struggle which ended in the last fruitful years. Neglecting the huge memorial of Van Gogh's intro- spection which existed to hand, and has now been significantly added to, he preferred to put endless monologues into his mouth of his own invention ; and "filled out the gaps" with fatuous profusions about Vincent and the Paris 'buses, and worse. Those profusions are a very different Matter when he keeps to the subject of Van Gogh's art. There the extravagance and the enthusiasm are delightful, and full of good things. Meier-Graefe was a virtuoso in this happy- go-lucky style of sparkling excesses. It is often precious, rather feminine and inconsequent, but it is original and penetrating appreciation.
The letters to Rappard which have newly come to light all belong to the earlier years. One cannot imagine a more exciting and important discovery, noianything more deplorable than the chaotic way in which they have been jumbled together for publication. The translator confesses to having found the task difficult, but with very little trouble might have 'placed
them in a better order than the present one, which must disturb even an amateur reader with its obvious incongruities. The new material is full of those radiant confessions of faith, and that universal scope of interest whicli make of Van Gogh one of the greatest figures of his century.- They have not the passionate intimacy and love which inform the letters to Theo, and in fact Rappard Was far from being a completely satis- factory friend. A wealthy aristocrat, he was a simple example of;" the good Dutch character and sentiment," and Vincent hoped to improve this state of affairs. At One time he was able to say that "a revolution has taken place in him," but in the end had reason to believe that he had failed after all. Rappard_ fell back into the ,old dull ways, which is a .sad end In the story. For 'the sake of that relationship it is essential to read these letters in 'something like the right order. For their wisdom and iicetry one may open the book at random at any page. The translation itself appears to have been well done, apart from some minor errors and excruciating
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