Девять рассказов
De Daumier-Smith’s Blue Period
However,anumberofmyoilpaintingsandwatercolorswerenowhanginginsomeofthefinest,andbynomeansnouveauriche,homesinParis,wheretheyhadgagneconsiderableattentionfromsomeofthemostformidablecriticsofourday.Following,Isaid,mywife’suntimelyandtragicdeath,ofanulcerationcancgreuse,IhadearnestlythoughtIwouldneveragainsetbrushtocanvas.Butrecentfinanciallosseshadledmetoaltermyearnestresolution.IsaidIwouldbemosthonoredtosubmitsamplesofmyworktoLesAmisDesVieuxMaitres,justassoonastheyweresenttomebymyagentinParis,towhomIwouldwrite,ofcourse,trespresse.Iremained,mostrespectfully,JeandeDaumier-Smith.
Ittookmealmostaslongtoselectapseudonymasithadtakenmetowritethewholeletter.
Iwrotetheletteronoverlaytissuepaper.However,IsealeditinaRitzenvelope.Then,afterapplyingaspecial-deliverystampI’dfoundinBobby’stopdrawer,Itooktheletterdowntothemainmaildropinthelobby.Istoppedonthewaytoputthemailclerk(whounmistakablyloathedme)onthealertfordeDaumier-Smith’sfutureincomingmail.Then,aroundtwo-thirty,Islippedintomyone-forty-fiveanatomyclassattheartschoolonForty-eighthStreet.Myclassmatesseemed,forthefirsttime,likeafairlydecentbunch.
Duringthenextfourdays,usingallmysparetime,plussometimethatdidn’tquitebelongtome,IdrewadozenormoresamplesofwhatIthoughtweretypicalexamplesofAmericancommercialart.
