Osborne Manor, Sophie and her diary

Osborne Manor, Sophie and her diary.

"Alfred, where are you going all dressed up like that?" my mom queried, as I finished breakfast in a hurry whilst constantly glancing towards the clock anxiously! "Well, mom! I have been called for an interview at the Osborne Manor for the vacant post of a clerk; and I am getting late!" She was shocked to hear this and remained motionless with her mouth wide open. Recovering herself quickly, "No! That's not the best place to work, Alfred. It is an evil house and very much haunted too, don't you know? "Mom, I don't believe in these stupid things! There are no ghosts or draculas in this world. All made-up stories, nothing else." Kissing my mom good-bye, I left in a hurry whilst mom continued with her protests. 

I took my Harley Davidson motorcycle and roared in top gear onto the highway. Out of town, I took a by-lane and within an hour reached the place. The Gothic mansion in front of me was a sixteenth century structure at the outskirts of Paris. There was a bleak looking garden with dark creepers all around the building. The imposing wrought iron gate at the entrance of the garden had an intricate design depicting strange looking creatures. As I entered the property, I saw an old gardener busy doing his business. An ancient-looking butler opened the door for me. It was dark inside as most windows and louvers were closed or half-shut. The mansion itself was of typical Gothic design with columns of ornate beauty. The large windows had panels of stained glasses depicting scenes from the testaments. In the outside walls were scores of leering gargoyles looking quite menacingly downwards. There were flying buttresses all around supporting the inner structure.

The butler had a strange way of looking at you. As if his vision was piercing through you and looking at things behind you! He led me to the living room where my would-be employer was taking her breakfast. As I entered the big room, Sophie (that was her maiden name) looked up and said, "Take a seat, Alfred. I will be with you in a minute." It appeared that most of the rooms and furniture had been shut-out or mothballed. Only a few rooms were inhabited.

Sophie must be around 50 years old, I thought. She was dressed in a traditional Dutch dress. I would later learn that she took great care of her dresses, never throwing away any of them. She had sharp features and showed some signs of approaching old age - her dark hair showed some stray white ones. 

She finished her breakfast and took a seat on the antique sofa in front of me. "Alfred, I am glad you came. Most people refuse this job as they are apprehensive of this mansion and its notoriety. What nonsense! They listen to all made-up stories from the mansion's past history. You see, the great Dutch artist Vincent van Gogh had settled down in Paris and lived for a few years in this mansion. It is believed that he shot himself and died in this mansion. After his demise, many celebrities have lived here and there have been many unnatural stories going around about them. People say ghosts were seen here and strange events have taken place. However, don't you worry, Alfred! All is normal now. I myself am a descendant of Vincent van Gogh's brother, Theo van Gogh, who had helped Vincent settle down in Paris. And do not be bothered by the stern looking butler; he is a kindhearted soul!"

I looked at Sophie in awe! A great-great-great granddaughter of the Gogh family! Has she got some traces of art in her? Hopefully, she was free of the depression that had plagued Vincent van Gogh during his productive years.

Sophie then explained my job to me. I was required to help her in her studio and be prepared for miscellaneous jobs in the house, as she would ordain. I was to keep her company too. As the remuneration was handsome, I didn't mind and said so - to her delight! After my first day at the mansion, I went home and gave the good news to my mom. She was relieved to learn that there would be no harm to her son at the Gothic house.

Sophie had the habit of writing her diary, giving insight into her life and her thinking process. She was only 11 years old when she visited art galleries around Paris. That visit had a long lasting impression on her young mind. She was mesmerized by those masterpieces created by the geniuses. So she grew up with the sole intention of studying art and becoming an artist herself. After all, she had the van Gogh blood in her veins!

She had not married and was living alone for all these years after her parents had passed away. A maid servant took care of the house and the cooking. I was very happy working for her and was beginning to like her personally.

My further narrative is based on the extracts from her diary. I do feel guilty to have eavesdropped on her, as reading someone's diary is unethical but I couldn't help it. I will give entries of her diary selectively to make my narrative more effective. I started writing my own memoirs as well.

Date 2nd November 1985 (This was years before I came to stay with her)

How sad was the life of Vincent van Gogh! People say he was mad but how could a mad person create such beautiful works of art? But perhaps the mad streak in him was the spark for his genius. Sometimes, I feel that I am also following in his footsteps. Depression takes hold of me as well. Good sign?

The above comment from her gives a hint of what went inside her mind. Those days she was struggling with her paintings - they were not coming up to her expectations.

6th December, 1986

I was mesmerized when I had my first view of Mona Lisa. She looked mysterious, seductive and pensive at the same time. But not many people know that this painting by Leonardo became a legend only after it was stolen by an Italian in 1911. He thought the painting was stolen by the French and he wanted it to be restored to Italy. The thief was ultimately caught after 2 years and the masterpiece was restored to the Louvre. But for the painting to get stolen it must have some glimmer of genius in the first place. Does it exist in any of my paintings? NO!

Sophie again gives us an insight into her mind. She can't help comparing her art with that of the past masters. She doesn't realize that one is born a genius and one can only climb up to a certain level by dedication and hard work.

Date: 25th February, 1987 (I was now with her)

I have a high opinion of Romanticism Art as perfected by William Blake. In this art form, sense and emotions are equally important to the technical aspects of a painting. Easier said than done, though. I wish I could add more feelings into my work! 

Just as in Romanticism, sense and feelings are essential in romance too. Where are you, Lucas? We were so much in love, the two of us and then a small misunderstanding brought a break in our relationship. Are you now married? You are happy?

I thought her paintings were very well received by the elite of Paris. I was surprised to know about her romance. How could I help her? I made inquiries about Lucas by contacting common friends of Sophie. It took me a week but finally I could locate him. One Sunday I went to Lucas' house and told him about Sophie's love for him and her ongoing depression. I told him to be discreet and first phone her before visiting her at the mansion, so that she didn't sense something fishy!

Date: 15th March, 1990.

I was so happy to see Lucas the other day. It was a pleasant surprise as I was thinking about him and there was his call followed by his visit! We talked of old days and our feelings for each other. He has not changed much and had the same unique and interesting style of carrying out a conversation. I am sad that we cannot reunite as he is now a married man. I have no grudge, though. I wished him the best in life.

My guilt in reading her diary, while she took her daily siesta, has now reduced a bit. I liked Lucas for his easy ways while dealing with people. He was kind to me as well. Hope these two will keep their friendship alive.

Date: 31st March, 1990

Art has evolved over the centuries - from cave paintings to today's modern art. Is it not miraculous that more than 35,000 years ago, in the jungle of Indonesia, the exquisite cave paintings of local animal 'babirusa' showed us that humans in those olden days had the capacity for imagination and symbolism, which sets us apart from others? Is it also not remarkable that those olden ancestors of ours could make good art work without the facilities we enjoy today while most brilliant people in today's modern world can't draw a straight line!

Ha-ha! Our lady seems to be in a good mood now- a-days. The difference an ex-lover's visit can make on some! This cheerful demeanor continued for a long time. As a result, she finished some beautiful paintings in this period.

Date: 20th December, 1990

Friendships are so important for most people. Vincent van Gogh hired famous artist Paul Gauguin to help him in his studio and both finished many masterpieces in those days. They became good friends but then they had a misunderstanding and Gauguin decided to leave. This had a devastating effect on Vincent, forcing him into depression and he chopped off his left ear with a razor. (Later he committed suicide; shot himself).

Lucas has stopped speaking to me. He is unable to continue with our friendship. It makes me so sad! Chopping off one's ear ...ouch! it would be so painful!

OMG! This looks bad. I needed to do something to cheer her up. So I took her out to dinner one day and entertained her to her choicest food. She danced to good music and we both thoroughly enjoyed the evening.

Date: 25th December, 1990

Merry Christmas, everyone! It is a lovely day too! No work today. I will visit the church and then relax at home. I need to do more research on the works of Claude Monet, the French artist and ' father' of impressionism form of art. 

Her good mood is continuing and I am happy! After all these days, I have now come to know madam very well. She is moody but very nice at heart. She has started a painting which resembles impressionism.

Date: 5th February, 1991

Today I dreamt of mom and dad. I miss them so much. They used to bring for me my favorite ice cream (I am forgetting the brand name) which I used to relish so much. Then I realized that it was only a dream. They say you will meet your parents again when your time comes. When will that time come?

Oh! She is back to square one! How can I improve her mood, I thought? I waited for some days, else she would suspect me, made inquiries with the provision shop where she used to do shopping and bought her her favorite ice cream. She screamed with delight!

28th February, 1991.

I am a great admirer of Egyptian art as evident from the antique items discovered in the tombs of emperors and their temples thousands of years ago. The paintings of Ajanta caves in India are also amazing. Once I did get an opportunity to partake in their restoration work. There I came to know about an exceptional Indian artist, S Y Malak, who did remarkable work in all forms of art and who had prize winning paintings to his credit. Unfortunately, he never thought seriously of commercializing his art. He painted for the love of it. How I wish I could do the same!

I can see that her mood is stable for some time now. She loves time spent on her paintings more than ever before. She smiles more often. I made inquiries about S Y Malak. Unfortunately, he is no more but his precious paintings are stored in his house in Nagpur. Sophie's diary over the next few days continued to show her in good spirits as was her actual demeanor at work.

Date: 15th March, 1991

I was thinking about my parents last night. They must be happy where they are. Apart from them I am so much attached to Alfred who works for me. He is a wonderful person. He hardly leaves me alone! But I wish he would leave me in solitude for a couple of days. I want to experience the joys of meditation in solitude. Besides it would be good for him. He can spend more time with his family. Somehow I am not able to tell him directly.

Well I got the hint and also wanted her to enjoy her own company. I waited for a week and then asked her for two days' leave to settle my home affairs. She reluctantly agreed and I was off for two days excluding a Sunday. I tidied up her house before I left on Saturday evening.

I got some well-deserved rest and also helped mom finish some pending domestic jobs. I returned to Sophie's place on Wednesday morning, anticipating a warm welcome from her. To my horror I saw her lying in her bed with her wrist slashed and blood all over the place. I was devastated as there was no sign of life in her. She had breathed her last just an hour or so back. I rushed to see her diary…….

Date: 3rd April, 1991

Dear Alfred, so I fooled you! For some time now I had doubts about you reading my diaries. You saved me from committing suicide in the past so I devised this plan. I kept myself and my diary cheerful for some days. You had substituted my sleeping pills with some innocuous tablets so I had to use the kitchen knife. I did like you so much! Hence I have willed you most of my property and riches. Be happy and do not grieve, Alfred; we will meet again someday!

"Death is nothing at all.

It does not count.

I have only slipped away into the next room.

Nothing has happened." ---MHS Holland