Van Gogh Reborn!

Chapter 239:

Chapter 239:

239

It wasn’t there, but it appeared (7)

From his cheerful expression, I could tell how much Michel cared about Marso.

There was a closeness between them that was hard to express, even without talking sweetly or clinging to each other.

“Then I’ll go check it out.”

“Okay.”

Michel went up to the office.

He must have spent two hours admiring Marso’s work.

Vida Rabani came over.

I felt good seeing her face flushed with excitement.

“Do you want to sit over there and talk?”

“Yeah!”

Vida Rabani answered energetically and ran to the garden bench. She brushed the bench with her hand and gestured for me to sit down. I felt a bit awkward.

“Thank you.”

“No problem. Oh, this flower is pretty. I’ve been watering it.”

“It’s an azalea.”

“An azalea?”

“It’s a kind of rhododendron. I don’t know what it’s called in French.”

It was a rare flower in Europe in the past, but my grandfather grew it in his Seoul house and I asked him about it.

He said it was native to Korea and also grew in China, Japan, and other places.

The fresh leaves and seductive color were beautiful. He probably planted it for ornamental purposes.

I started the conversation with a caramel candy in my mouth.

“I’m planning to meet every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. You can come anytime on those days.”

“Okay.”

“Do whatever you want. You can use the canvas and paint as much as you want.”

I originally thought of just sharing the space, but this seemed fine.

Even though it was spring, she was wearing thick pants that looked like they belonged to winter, and they were worn out.

Someone must have given them to her, because the length didn’t fit and the folded hem made my heart ache.

“No, it’s okay. I’m making money.”

Vida Rabani showed me her palm and shook her head.

It felt like I had been hit hard on the head.

I spoke easily out of pity, but I didn’t consider what kind of effort this kid was making.

At the age of fifteen or sixteen, she was earning the money for the materials herself. How passionate and determined she must be.

“That’s amazing.”

She smiled shyly and looked embarrassed when I said it sincerely.

“But you’re cooler. You’re already hanging out with the artist.”

“Marso?”

“Yeah. I saw him at the Art Nouveau contest. Summer Night. Mido. Really. Really cool.”

I felt good talking to this kid.

“Did you know it was mine?”

“I didn’t. Your painting was the first time I saw Summer Night. But I knew Mido was the artist’s painting as soon as I saw it.”Th.ê most uptodate novels are published on n(0)velbj)n(.)co/m

“How?”

“The atmosphere? Hmm. How do I explain it? Maybe I got used to it because I’m here?”

She said she realized it after seeing hundreds of self-portraits exhibited in Marso’s gallery, but that didn’t explain it.

Many critics and artists couldn’t be sure that Mido was Henri Marso’s work because of the mysterious color of ochre and the new coloring technique he learned to use it.

“They didn’t know either. It’s amazing.”

“Do you believe me?”

I didn’t know what she meant and was speechless for a moment.

“Of course I do.”

“They said why didn’t I say it later. If I had participated in the event, there would have been a record.”

She was talking about the event to guess the artist.

I was going to ask why she didn’t participate, but then I thought she might not have a smartphone.

Instead, I changed the topic.

“No. No. It’s nothing.”

Vida Lavani wiped his tears and smiled.

“So you met well?”

“Yes.”

Grandpa asked me about Vida Lavani while we were having dinner.

“But why don’t you look happy? Didn’t you like him?”

I shook my head.

“No. It’s just a bit weird.”

“What is?”

“He said he wanted to go to the academy. He said he wanted to learn something because he had never learned to draw.”

Grandpa nodded his head as if to tell me to go on.

“But he said he couldn’t because he was a Muslim.”

There are strange people everywhere.

I asked him if he had tried other places, thinking that not all academies would be like that, but he just smiled silently.

“Hmm.”

“Isn’t that weird? Isn’t this a country that recognizes and respects diversity?”

France showed a very progressive attitude in both art and film.

They gave up high profits and prevented theater monopolies to respect diversity, and there were no restrictions on any artistic works on display.

I never imagined that such things would happen in the modern world, where religious freedom is guaranteed, unlike in the past when religion was the order of the world.

“Let’s think about it together.”

Grandfather always said that, instead of giving me an answer, he asked me to ponder with him.

“Muslim terrorism is not a recent phenomenon. Many people have suffered because of it.”

“...”

“There is a reason why people hate Muslims. They lost their property and their loved ones to them. Not many people can look at them with a good eye.”

“Yes.”

I can see where they are coming from.

It is wrong to hate all Muslims just because some of them did bad things, but is it an easy thing to do as I wish?

I think even I, who try to be understanding, would struggle if I had my property and precious ones taken away from me.

“That’s not the only problem. The lives of the French commoners are becoming more and more impoverished. To them, refugees are seen as those who steal their jobs.”

You mean to say that it is not just a Muslim problem.

“There is also a law that must be obeyed in France.”

“What is it?”

“Laïcité. The separation of politics and religion. In France, any religious act is prohibited in public places.”

Laïcité.

It is a philosophy that has developed since the French Revolution, and it was already established as a value when I lived as Vincent van Gogh.

“For example, wearing a hijab in the classroom is also considered a violation of laïcité in France.”

“What is a hijab?”

“It’s a cloth that Muslims wear on their faces. Some people see it as a religious garment, while others see it as a traditional costume.”

I nodded.

“Now, from the Muslim perspective, they have to wear the hijab, but in France, it’s banned. That’s bound to cause conflict, right?”

“Yes.”

I think I understood why Grandpa wanted me to think along with him.

Laïcité was the product of a struggle to pursue true freedom from the influence of the Vatican.

It recognized the freedom of religion, but also established a law to prevent it from dominating human life.

From the French point of view, the Muslim behavior might have seemed like an infringement on the freedom they had fought for over a long time.

And the Muslims might have felt that their faith was being ignored.

“Platini is looking after that kid because he has a good heart. But in fact, it’s hard for the French to see Muslims in a good light.”

“...Yes.”

It was a difficult problem to solve, since both sides could be understood.

But that didn’t mean that all their actions were justified. Crime and violence could not be allowed just because they had reasons.

Like Damien Carter.

“That doesn’t mean that terrorism or discrimination is right, does it?”

Grandpa nodded.