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Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy, Part 5. Chapter 11.

Part 5. Chapter 11.

On entering the studio, Mihailov once more scanned his visitors and noted down in his imagination Vronsky's expression too, and especially his jaws. Although his artistic sense was unceasingly at work collecting materials, although he felt a continually increasing excitement as the moment of criticizing his work drew nearer, he rapidly and subtly formed, from imperceptible signs, a mental image of these three persons.

That fellow (Golenishtchev) was a Russian living here. Mihailov did not remember his surname nor where he had met him, nor what he had said to him. He only remembered his face as he remembered all the faces he had ever seen; but he remembered, too, that it was one of the faces laid by in his memory in the immense class of the falsely consequential and poor in expression. The abundant hair and very open forehead gave an appearance of consequence to the face, which had only one expression—a petty, childish, peevish expression, concentrated just above the bridge of the narrow nose. Vronsky and Madame Karenina must be, Mihailov supposed, distinguished and wealthy Russians, knowing nothing about art, like all those wealthy Russians, but posing as amateurs and connoisseurs. "Most likely they've already looked at all the antiques, and now they're making the round of the studios of the new people, the German humbug, and the cracked Pre-Raphaelite English fellow, and have only come to me to make the point of view complete," he thought. He was well acquainted with the way dilettanti have (the cleverer they were the worse he found them) of looking at the works of contemporary artists with the sole object of being in a position to say that art is a thing of the past, and that the more one sees of the new men the more one sees how inimitable the works of the great old masters have remained. He expected all this; he saw it all in their faces, he saw it in the careless indifference with which they talked among themselves, stared at the lay figures and busts, and walked about in leisurely fashion, waiting for him to uncover his picture. But in spite of this, while he was turning over his studies, pulling up the blinds and taking off the sheet, he was in intense excitement, especially as, in spite of his conviction that all distinguished and wealthy Russians were certain to be beasts and fools, he liked Vronsky, and still more Anna.

"Here, if you please," he said, moving on one side with his nimble gait and pointing to his picture, "it's the exhortation to Pilate. Matthew, chapter xxvii," he said, feeling his lips were beginning to tremble with emotion. He moved away and stood behind them.

For the few seconds during which the visitors were gazing at the picture in silence Mihailov too gazed at it with the indifferent eye of an outsider. For those few seconds he was sure in anticipation that a higher, juster criticism would be uttered by them, by those very visitors whom he had been so despising a moment before. He forgot all he had thought about his picture before during the three years he had been painting it; he forgot all its qualities which had been absolutely certain to him—he saw the picture with their indifferent, new, outside eyes, and saw nothing good in it. He saw in the foreground Pilate's irritated face and the serene face of Christ, and in the background the figures of Pilate's retinue and the face of John watching what was happening. Every face that, with such agony, such blunders and corrections had grown up within him with its special character, every face that had given him such torments and such raptures, and all these faces so many times transposed for the sake of the harmony of the whole, all the shades of color and tones that he had attained with such labor—all of this together seemed to him now, looking at it with their eyes, the merest vulgarity, something that had been done a thousand times over. The face dearest to him, the face of Christ, the center of the picture, which had given him such ecstasy as it unfolded itself to him, was utterly lost to him when he glanced at the picture with their eyes. He saw a well-painted (no, not even that—he distinctly saw now a mass of defects) repetition of those endless Christs of Titian, Raphael, Rubens, and the same soldiers and Pilate. It was all common, poor, and stale, and positively badly painted—weak and unequal. They would be justified in repeating hypocritically civil speeches in the presence of the painter, and pitying him and laughing at him when they were alone again.

The silence (though it lasted no more than a minute) became too intolerable to him. To break it, and to show he was not agitated, he made an effort and addressed Golenishtchev.

"I think I've had the pleasure of meeting you," he said, looking uneasily first at Anna, then at Vronsky, in fear of losing any shade of their expression. "To be sure! We met at Rossi's, do you remember, at that soirée when that Italian lady recited—the new Rachel?" Golenishtchev answered easily, removing his eyes without the slightest regret from the picture and turning to the artist.

Noticing, however, that Mihailov was expecting a criticism of the picture, he said:

"Your picture has got on a great deal since I saw it last time; and what strikes me particularly now, as it did then, is the figure of Pilate. One so knows the man: a good-natured, capital fellow, but an official through and through, who does not know what it is he's doing. But I fancy…" All Mihailov's mobile face beamed at once; his eyes sparkled. He tried to say something, but he could not speak for excitement, and pretended to be coughing. Low as was his opinion of Golenishtchev's capacity for understanding art, trifling as was the true remark upon the fidelity of the expression of Pilate as an official, and offensive as might have seemed the utterance of so unimportant an observation while nothing was said of more serious points, Mihailov was in an ecstasy of delight at this observation. He had himself thought about Pilate's figure just what Golenishtchev said. The fact that this reflection was but one of millions of reflections, which as Mihailov knew for certain would be true, did not diminish for him the significance of Golenishtchev's remark. His heart warmed to Golenishtchev for this remark, and from a state of depression he suddenly passed to ecstasy. At once the whole of his picture lived before him in all the indescribable complexity of everything living. Mihailov again tried to say that that was how he understood Pilate, but his lips quivered intractably, and he could not pronounce the words. Vronsky and Anna too said something in that subdued voice in which, partly to avoid hurting the artist's feelings and partly to avoid saying out loud something silly—so easily said when talking of art—people usually speak at exhibitions of pictures. Mihailov fancied that the picture had made an impression on them too. He went up to them.

"How marvelous Christ's expression is!" said Anna. Of all she saw she liked that expression most of all, and she felt that it was the center of the picture, and so praise of it would be pleasant to the artist. "One can see that He is pitying Pilate." This again was one of the million true reflections that could be found in his picture and in the figure of Christ. She said that He was pitying Pilate. In Christ's expression there ought to be indeed an expression of pity, since there is an expression of love, of heavenly peace, of readiness for death, and a sense of the vanity of words. Of course there is the expression of an official in Pilate and of pity in Christ, seeing that one is the incarnation of the fleshly and the other of the spiritual life. All this and much more flashed into Mihailov's thoughts. "Yes, and how that figure is done—what atmosphere! One can walk round it," said Golenishtchev, unmistakably betraying by this remark that he did not approve of the meaning and idea of the figure. "Yes, there's a wonderful mastery!" said Vronsky. "How those figures in the background stand out! There you have technique," he said, addressing Golenishtchev, alluding to a conversation between them about Vronsky's despair of attaining this technique. "Yes, yes, marvelous!" Golenishtchev and Anna assented. In spite of the excited condition in which he was, the sentence about technique had sent a pang to Mihailov's heart, and looking angrily at Vronsky he suddenly scowled. He had often heard this word technique, and was utterly unable to understand what was understood by it. He knew that by this term was understood a mechanical facility for painting or drawing, entirely apart from its subject. He had noticed often that even in actual praise technique was opposed to essential quality, as though one could paint well something that was bad. He knew that a great deal of attention and care was necessary in taking off the coverings, to avoid injuring the creation itself, and to take off all the coverings; but there was no art of painting—no technique of any sort—about it. If to a little child or to his cook were revealed what he saw, it or she would have been able to peel the wrappings off what was seen. And the most experienced and adroit painter could not by mere mechanical facility paint anything if the lines of the subject were not revealed to him first. Besides, he saw that if it came to talking about technique, it was impossible to praise him for it. In all he had painted and repainted he saw faults that hurt his eyes, coming from want of care in taking off the wrappings—faults he could not correct now without spoiling the whole. And in almost all the figures and faces he saw, too, remnants of the wrappings not perfectly removed that spoiled the picture.

"One thing might be said, if you will allow me to make the remark…" observed Golenishtchev. "Oh, I shall be delighted, I beg you," said Mihailov with a forced smile. "That is, that you make Him the man-god, and not the God-man. But I know that was what you meant to do." "I cannot paint a Christ that is not in my heart," said Mihailov gloomily. "Yes; but in that case, if you will allow me to say what I think…. Your picture is so fine that my observation cannot detract from it, and, besides, it is only my personal opinion. With you it is different. Your very motive is different. But let us take Ivanov. I imagine that if Christ is brought down to the level of an historical character, it would have been better for Ivanov to select some other historical subject, fresh, untouched." "But if this is the greatest subject presented to art?" "If one looked one would find others. But the point is that art cannot suffer doubt and discussion. And before the picture of Ivanov the question arises for the believer and the unbeliever alike, 'Is it God, or is it not God?' and the unity of the impression is destroyed." "Why so? I think that for educated people," said Mihailov, "the question cannot exist." Golenishtchev did not agree with this, and confounded Mihailov by his support of his first idea of the unity of the impression being essential to art.

Mihailov was greatly perturbed, but he could say nothing in defense of his own idea.

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Part 5. Chapter 11. Parte 5. Capítulo 11.

On entering the studio, Mihailov once more scanned his visitors and noted down in his imagination Vronsky's expression too, and especially his jaws. Įėjęs į studiją, Mihailovas dar kartą nuskenavo savo lankytojus ir savo vaizduotėje užfiksavo ir Vronskio išraišką, ypač žandikaulius. Although his artistic sense was unceasingly at work collecting materials, although he felt a continually increasing excitement as the moment of criticizing his work drew nearer, he rapidly and subtly formed, from imperceptible signs, a mental image of these three persons. Si son sens artistique est sans cesse à l'oeuvre en collectionnant des matériaux, s'il ressent une excitation sans cesse croissante à mesure que le moment de critiquer son œuvre s'approche, il se forme rapidement et subtilement, à partir de signes imperceptibles, une image mentale de ces trois personnes.

That fellow (Golenishtchev) was a Russian living here. Mihailov did not remember his surname nor where he had met him, nor what he had said to him. He only remembered his face as he remembered all the faces he had ever seen; but he remembered, too, that it was one of the faces laid by in his memory in the immense class of the falsely consequential and poor in expression. Il se souvenait seulement de son visage comme il se souvenait de tous les visages qu'il avait jamais vus; mais il se souvenait aussi que c'était l'un des visages gravés dans sa mémoire dans l'immense classe des faussement conséquents et pauvres d'expression. The abundant hair and very open forehead gave an appearance of consequence to the face, which had only one expression—a petty, childish, peevish expression, concentrated just above the bridge of the narrow nose. Vronsky and Madame Karenina must be, Mihailov supposed, distinguished and wealthy Russians, knowing nothing about art, like all those wealthy Russians, but posing as amateurs and connoisseurs. "Most likely they've already looked at all the antiques, and now they're making the round of the studios of the new people, the German humbug, and the cracked Pre-Raphaelite English fellow, and have only come to me to make the point of view complete," he thought. «Très probablement, ils ont déjà regardé toutes les antiquités, et maintenant ils font le tour des studios des nouveaux venus, du fumier allemand, et du camarade anglais préraphaélite craqué, et ne sont venus que pour moi pour faire le point de vue est complet », pensa-t-il. He was well acquainted with the way dilettanti have (the cleverer they were the worse he found them) of looking at the works of contemporary artists with the sole object of being in a position to say that art is a thing of the past, and that the more one sees of the new men the more one sees how inimitable the works of the great old masters have remained. |||||||dilettanti||||||||||||||||||sanatçılar|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| Il connaissait bien la façon dont les dilettanti ont (plus ils étaient intelligents, plus il les trouvait) de regarder les œuvres d'artistes contemporains dans le seul but d'être en mesure de dire que l'art appartient au passé, et que plus on voit des hommes nouveaux, plus on voit combien les œuvres des grands maîtres anciens sont restées inimitables. He expected all this; he saw it all in their faces, he saw it in the careless indifference with which they talked among themselves, stared at the lay figures and busts, and walked about in leisurely fashion, waiting for him to uncover his picture. Il s'attendait à tout cela; il voyait tout sur leurs visages, il le voyait dans l'indifférence insouciante avec laquelle ils parlaient entre eux, fixait les silhouettes et les bustes laïcs, et se promenait tranquillement, attendant qu'il découvre son tableau. But in spite of this, while he was turning over his studies, pulling up the blinds and taking off the sheet, he was in intense excitement, especially as, in spite of his conviction that all distinguished and wealthy Russians were certain to be beasts and fools, he liked Vronsky, and still more Anna. Mais malgré cela, alors qu'il retournait ses études, levait les stores et enlevait le drap, il était dans une intense excitation, d'autant plus que, malgré sa conviction que tous les Russes distingués et riches étaient certains d'être des bêtes et imbéciles, il aimait Vronsky, et encore plus Anna. Nepaisant to, kol jis vartė mokslus, traukė žaliuzes ir nusiėmė paklodę, jis buvo labai jaudinamas, ypač, nepaisant įsitikinimo, kad visi iškilūs ir turtingi rusai tikrai yra žvėrys ir kvailiai, jam patiko Vronskis ir dar labiau Anna.

"Here, if you please," he said, moving on one side with his nimble gait and pointing to his picture, "it's the exhortation to Pilate. «Ici, s'il vous plaît,» dit-il, se déplaçant d'un côté avec sa démarche agile et montrant sa photo, «c'est l'exhortation à Pilate. Matthew, chapter xxvii," he said, feeling his lips were beginning to tremble with emotion. He moved away and stood behind them.

For the few seconds during which the visitors were gazing at the picture in silence Mihailov too gazed at it with the indifferent eye of an outsider. For those few seconds he was sure in anticipation that a higher, juster criticism would be uttered by them, by those very visitors whom he had been so despising a moment before. Pendant ces quelques secondes, il était sûr par anticipation qu'une critique plus haute et plus juste serait émise par eux, par ces mêmes visiteurs qu'il méprisait tant un instant auparavant. He forgot all he had thought about his picture before during the three years he had been painting it; he forgot all its qualities which had been absolutely certain to him—he saw the picture with their indifferent, new, outside eyes, and saw nothing good in it. He saw in the foreground Pilate's irritated face and the serene face of Christ, and in the background the figures of Pilate's retinue and the face of John watching what was happening. Il vit au premier plan le visage irrité de Pilate et le visage serein du Christ, et à l'arrière-plan les personnages de la suite de Pilate et le visage de Jean observant ce qui se passait. Every face that, with such agony, such blunders and corrections had grown up within him with its special character, every face that had given him such torments and such raptures, and all these faces so many times transposed for the sake of the harmony of the whole, all the shades of color and tones that he had attained with such labor—all of this together seemed to him now, looking at it with their eyes, the merest vulgarity, something that had been done a thousand times over. Chaque visage qui, avec une telle agonie, de telles bévues et corrections avait grandi en lui avec son caractère spécial, chaque visage qui lui avait donné tant de tourments et de ravissements, et tous ces visages tant de fois transposés pour le bien de l'harmonie de la ensemble, toutes les nuances de couleurs et de tons qu'il avait atteintes avec un tel travail - tout cela lui semblait maintenant, en le regardant avec leurs yeux, la plus pure vulgarité, quelque chose qui avait été fait mille fois. The face dearest to him, the face of Christ, the center of the picture, which had given him such ecstasy as it unfolded itself to him, was utterly lost to him when he glanced at the picture with their eyes. Le visage qui lui était le plus cher, le visage du Christ, le centre du tableau, qui lui avait donné une telle extase au fur et à mesure qu'il se déroulait pour lui, lui était complètement perdu quand il regardait le tableau avec leurs yeux. He saw a well-painted (no, not even that—he distinctly saw now a mass of defects) repetition of those endless Christs of Titian, Raphael, Rubens, and the same soldiers and Pilate. Il a vu une répétition bien peinte (non, pas même cela - il voyait distinctement maintenant une masse de défauts) de ces Christs interminables de Titien, Raphaël, Rubens, et les mêmes soldats et Pilate. It was all common, poor, and stale, and positively badly painted—weak and unequal. Tout était commun, pauvre et vicié, et franchement mal peint - faible et inégal. They would be justified in repeating hypocritically civil speeches in the presence of the painter, and pitying him and laughing at him when they were alone again. Ils auraient raison de répéter hypocritement des discours civils en présence du peintre, de le plaindre et de se moquer de lui quand ils se retrouveraient seuls.

The silence (though it lasted no more than a minute) became too intolerable to him. To break it, and to show he was not agitated, he made an effort and addressed Golenishtchev.

"I think I've had the pleasure of meeting you," he said, looking uneasily first at Anna, then at Vronsky, in fear of losing any shade of their expression. "To be sure! We met at Rossi's, do you remember, at that soirée when that Italian lady recited—the new Rachel?" Golenishtchev answered easily, removing his eyes without the slightest regret from the picture and turning to the artist.

Noticing, however, that Mihailov was expecting a criticism of the picture, he said:

"Your picture has got on a great deal since I saw it last time; and what strikes me particularly now, as it did then, is the figure of Pilate. «Votre image a fait beaucoup de bruit depuis que je l'ai vue la dernière fois; et ce qui me frappe particulièrement maintenant, comme à l'époque, c'est la figure de Pilate. One so knows the man: a good-natured, capital fellow, but an official through and through, who does not know what it is he's doing. On connaît ainsi l'homme: un bonhomme capital et bon enfant, mais un fonctionnaire de bout en bout, qui ne sait pas ce qu'il fait. But I fancy…" All Mihailov's mobile face beamed at once; his eyes sparkled. Tout le visage mobile de Mihailov rayonna à la fois; ses yeux pétillaient. He tried to say something, but he could not speak for excitement, and pretended to be coughing. Low as was his opinion of Golenishtchev's capacity for understanding art, trifling as was the true remark upon the fidelity of the expression of Pilate as an official, and offensive as might have seemed the utterance of so unimportant an observation while nothing was said of more serious points, Mihailov was in an ecstasy of delight at this observation. Aussi faible que fût son opinion sur la capacité de Golenishtchev à comprendre l'art, aussi insignifiante que l'était la vraie remarque sur la fidélité de l'expression de Pilate en tant qu'officiel, et offensante comme aurait pu sembler la formulation d'une observation si insignifiante alors que rien n'était dit de plus sérieux. points, Mihailov était dans une extase de plaisir à cette observation. He had himself thought about Pilate's figure just what Golenishtchev said. The fact that this reflection was but one of millions of reflections, which as Mihailov knew for certain would be true, did not diminish for him the significance of Golenishtchev's remark. Le fait que cette réflexion ne soit qu'une des millions de réflexions, qui, comme Mihailov le savait avec certitude, ne diminuait pas pour lui la signification de la remarque de Golenishtchev. His heart warmed to Golenishtchev for this remark, and from a state of depression he suddenly passed to ecstasy. Son cœur s'est réchauffé à Golenishtchev pour cette remarque, et d'un état de dépression il est soudainement passé à l'extase. At once the whole of his picture lived before him in all the indescribable complexity of everything living. Mihailov again tried to say that that was how he understood Pilate, but his lips quivered intractably, and he could not pronounce the words. Vronsky and Anna too said something in that subdued voice in which, partly to avoid hurting the artist's feelings and partly to avoid saying out loud something silly—so easily said when talking of art—people usually speak at exhibitions of pictures. Mihailov fancied that the picture had made an impression on them too. He went up to them.

"How marvelous Christ's expression is!" said Anna. Of all she saw she liked that expression most of all, and she felt that it was the center of the picture, and so praise of it would be pleasant to the artist. De tout ce qu'elle a vu, elle a surtout aimé cette expression, et elle a estimé que c'était le centre de l'image, et donc l'éloge serait agréable à l'artiste. "One can see that He is pitying Pilate." This again was one of the million true reflections that could be found in his picture and in the figure of Christ. She said that He was pitying Pilate. In Christ's expression there ought to be indeed an expression of pity, since there is an expression of love, of heavenly peace, of readiness for death, and a sense of the vanity of words. Dans l'expression du Christ, il devrait y avoir en effet une expression de pitié, car il y a une expression d'amour, de paix céleste, de préparation à la mort et un sens de la vanité des mots. Of course there is the expression of an official in Pilate and of pity in Christ, seeing that one is the incarnation of the fleshly and the other of the spiritual life. Bien sûr, il y a l'expression d'un fonctionnaire dans Pilate et de la pitié dans le Christ, voyant que l'un est l'incarnation du charnel et l'autre de la vie spirituelle. All this and much more flashed into Mihailov's thoughts. Tout cela et bien plus encore a flashé dans les pensées de Mihailov. "Yes, and how that figure is done—what atmosphere! One can walk round it," said Golenishtchev, unmistakably betraying by this remark that he did not approve of the meaning and idea of the figure. On peut en faire le tour », a déclaré Golenishtchev, trahissant sans aucun doute par cette remarque qu'il n'approuvait ni le sens ni l'idée de la figure. "Yes, there's a wonderful mastery!" said Vronsky. "How those figures in the background stand out! There you have technique," he said, addressing Golenishtchev, alluding to a conversation between them about Vronsky's despair of attaining this technique. Là vous avez de la technique », dit-il en s'adressant à Golenishtchev, faisant allusion à une conversation entre eux sur le désespoir de Vronsky d'atteindre cette technique. "Yes, yes, marvelous!" Golenishtchev and Anna assented. In spite of the excited condition in which he was, the sentence about technique had sent a pang to Mihailov's heart, and looking angrily at Vronsky he suddenly scowled. He had often heard this word technique, and was utterly unable to understand what was understood by it. He knew that by this term was understood a mechanical facility for painting or drawing, entirely apart from its subject. Il savait que par ce terme, on entendait une installation mécanique pour la peinture ou le dessin, entièrement en dehors de son sujet. He had noticed often that even in actual praise technique was opposed to essential quality, as though one could paint well something that was bad. Il avait souvent remarqué que même dans la pratique des louanges, la technique était opposée à la qualité essentielle, comme si l'on pouvait bien peindre quelque chose de mauvais. He knew that a great deal of attention and care was necessary in taking off the coverings, to avoid injuring the creation itself, and to take off all the coverings; but there was no art of painting—no technique of any sort—about it. Il savait qu'il fallait beaucoup d'attention et de soin pour enlever les revêtements, pour éviter de blesser la création elle-même et pour enlever tous les revêtements; mais il n'y avait aucun art de la peinture - aucune technique d'aucune sorte - à ce sujet. If to a little child or to his cook were revealed what he saw, it or she would have been able to peel the wrappings off what was seen. Si à un petit enfant ou à son cuisinier avait été révélé ce qu'il avait vu, il ou elle aurait pu décoller les emballages de ce qui était vu. And the most experienced and adroit painter could not by mere mechanical facility paint anything if the lines of the subject were not revealed to him first. Besides, he saw that if it came to talking about technique, it was impossible to praise him for it. D'ailleurs, il a vu que s'il s'agissait de parler de technique, il était impossible de l'en féliciter. In all he had painted and repainted he saw faults that hurt his eyes, coming from want of care in taking off the wrappings—faults he could not correct now without spoiling the whole. Dans tout ce qu'il avait peint et repeint, il voyait des défauts qui lui faisaient mal aux yeux, venant du manque de soin à enlever les emballages - défauts qu'il ne pouvait pas corriger maintenant sans gâcher le tout. And in almost all the figures and faces he saw, too, remnants of the wrappings not perfectly removed that spoiled the picture.

"One thing might be said, if you will allow me to make the remark…" observed Golenishtchev. "Oh, I shall be delighted, I beg you," said Mihailov with a forced smile. "That is, that you make Him the man-god, and not the God-man. "Tai reiškia, kad jūs darote Jį žmogumi-dievu, o ne dievu-žmogumi. But I know that was what you meant to do." "I cannot paint a Christ that is not in my heart," said Mihailov gloomily. "Yes; but in that case, if you will allow me to say what I think…. Your picture is so fine that my observation cannot detract from it, and, besides, it is only my personal opinion. With you it is different. Your very motive is different. But let us take Ivanov. I imagine that if Christ is brought down to the level of an historical character, it would have been better for Ivanov to select some other historical subject, fresh, untouched." J'imagine que si le Christ était ramené au niveau d'un caractère historique, il aurait mieux valu qu'Ivanov choisisse un autre sujet historique, frais, intact. " "But if this is the greatest subject presented to art?" "Mais si c'est le plus grand sujet présenté à l'art?" "If one looked one would find others. «Si on regardait, on en trouverait d'autres. But the point is that art cannot suffer doubt and discussion. Mais le fait est que l'art ne peut souffrir du doute et de la discussion. And before the picture of Ivanov the question arises for the believer and the unbeliever alike, 'Is it God, or is it not God?' and the unity of the impression is destroyed." "Why so? I think that for educated people," said Mihailov, "the question cannot exist." Golenishtchev did not agree with this, and confounded Mihailov by his support of his first idea of the unity of the impression being essential to art. Golenishtchev n'était pas d'accord avec cela et confondait Mihailov par son soutien à sa première idée de l'unité de l'impression étant essentielle à l'art.

Mihailov was greatly perturbed, but he could say nothing in defense of his own idea.