Vincent van Gogh has long since achieved a status comparable to that of the revered Christian saints in the Middle Ages, any physical trace of whom was cherished, jealously preserved, even fought over. The main difference now is that such status is measured mainly in dollars. In his lifetime, van Gogh could not sell a painting. Now, regardless of artistic merit, his most undistinguished sketch fetches a small fortune. One of the highest sums ever paid for a single painting at auction was paid for a van Gogh.
He is the prime example of that much-pitied figure, the great artist who is ignored by his contemporaries and dies virtually unknown, though perhaps that was a less common condition than is supposed. In fact, van Gogh was just beginning to achieve wide recognition when he died after living little more than half of his Biblical span. Had he survived until age seventy, he would have died rich and famous.
But probably insane. Almost as much has been written about his mental illness as about his work, and the one fact that everyone knows about him is that he cut off his own ear (in fact, only a part of it). Cheap sensationalism has resulted in the common image of van Gogh as a wild man, almost a kind of idiot savant, producing great art out of sheer instinct. Of course, he was nothing like that. Some of his views may have been idiosyncratic, but he knew a very great deal about art (after all, he worked for some years as an art dealer). He was very widely read and might himself have been a great writer had his creative impulse taken that direction. His personality was difficult, but he was not mad except during attacks of illness. He was capable of inspiring friendship, even love, though perhaps not of sustaining an intimate, loving relationship. That is perhaps the most poignant aspect of van Gogh’s sad though magnificently productive life. He had so much love to give. The radical artist, the great outsider, living on scraps in cheap furnished rooms, yearned for cosy domesticity, the family hearth, a loving wife, and little children. Genius is a mixed blessing.
