I never knew anyone who was less self-conscious. But it is unfortunate that I can give no description of the arduous steps by which he reached such mastery over his art as he ever acquired; for if I could show him undaunted by failure, by an unceasing effort of courage holding despair at bay, doggedly persistent in the face of self-doubt, which is the artist's bitterest enemy, I might excite some sympathy for a personality which, I am all too conscious, must appear singularly devoid of charm. But I have nothing to go on. I never once saw Strickland at work, nor do I know that anyone else did. He kept the secret of his struggles to himself. If in the loneliness of his studio he wrestled desperately with the Angel of the Lord he never allowed a soul to divine his anguish.

When I come to his connection with Blanche Stroeve I am exasperated by the fragmentariness of the facts at my disposal. To give my story coherence I should describe the progress of their tragic union, but I know nothing of the three months during which they lived together. I do not know how they got on or what they talked about. After all, there are twenty-four hours in the day, and the summits of emotion can only be reached at rare intervals. I can only imagine how they passed the rest of the time. While the light lasted and so long as Blanche's strength endured, I suppose that Strickland painted, and it must have irritated her when she saw him absorbed in his work. As a mistress she did not then exist for him, but only as a model; and then there were long hours in which they lived side by side in silence.

我不知道哪个人象他那样总是强烈地意识到自己的存在。不幸的是，我无法描写他在取得艺术成就的艰苦征途上勤奋的脚步；因为，如果我能写一下他如何屡经失败毫不气馁，如何满怀勇气奋斗不息，从不悲观失望，如何在艺术家的劲敌——信心发生动摇的时刻，仍然不屈不挠地艰苦斗争，也许我能使读者对这样一个枯燥乏味的人物（这一点我是非常清楚的）产生一些同情。但是我却毫无事实根据进行一方面的描述。我从来没有看见过思特里克兰德工作的情形，而且我知道不只是我，任何其他人也都没有见过他如何绘画。他的一部斗争史是他个人的秘密。如果在他独处于画室中曾经同上帝的天使进行过剧烈的搏斗，他是从来没让任何人了解到他的痛苦的。

当我开始叙述他同勃朗什·施特略夫的关系时，我也深为自己掌握材料不足所苦。为了把我的故事说得有头有尾，我应该描写一下他们这一悲剧性的结合是如何发展的，但是我对他俩三个月的同居生活却一无所知。我不知道他们如何相处，也不知道他们平常谈一些什么。不管怎么说，一天是有二十四小时的，感情的高峰只是在稀有的时刻才达到的现象。其他的时间是怎么过的，我只能借助自己的想象力。在光线没有暗淡下来以前，只要勃朗什的气力还能支持住，我想思特里克兰德总是不停笔地作画。我想勃朗什对他这样沉溺于自己的绘画中，一定感到非常气恼。整个这段时间，她只是他的模特儿，他根本没有想到她的情妇的角色。此外，就是相对无言的漫长的时刻，