"Not envious, let us say, since he has _talent_; but it annoys him
that a wealthy man of the highest society, and a count, too (you
know they all detest a title), can, without any particular
trouble, do as well, if not better, than he who has devoted all
his life to it. And more than all, it's a question of culture,
which he is without."
Vronsky defended Mihailov, but at the bottom of his heart he
believed it, because in his view a man of a different, lower
world would be sure to be envious.
Anna's portrait--the same subject painted from nature both by him
and by Mihailov--ought to have shown Vronsky the difference
between him and Mihailov; but he did not see it. Only after
Mihailov's portrait was painted he left off painting his portrait
of Anna, deciding that it was now not needed. His picture of
mediaeval life he went on with. And he himself, and
Golenishtchev, and still more Anna, thought it very good, because
it was far more like the celebrated pictures they knew than
Mihailov's picture.
Mihailov meanwhile, although Anna's portrait greatly fascinated
him, was even more glad than they were when the sittings were
over, and he had no longer to listen to Golenishtchev's
disquisitions upon art, and could forget about Vronsky's
painting. He knew that Vronsky could not be prevented from
amusing himself with painting; he knew that he and all dilettanti
had a perfect right to paint what they liked, but it was
distasteful to him. A man could not be prevented from making
himself a big wax doll, and kissing it. But if the man were to
come with the doll and sit before a man in love, and begin
caressing his doll as the lover caressed the woman he loved, it
would be distasteful to the lover. Just such a distasteful
sensation was what Mihailov felt at the sight of Vronsky's
painting: he felt it both ludicrous and irritating, both pitiable
and offensive.
Vronsky's interest in painting and the Middle Ages did not last
long. He had enough taste for painting to be unable to finish
his picture. The picture came to a standstill. He was vaguely
aware that its defects, inconspicuous at first, would be glaring
if he were to go on with it. The same experience befell him as
Golenishtchev, who felt that he had nothing to say, and
continually deceived himself with the theory that his idea was
not yet mature, that he was working it out and collecting
materials. This exasperated and tortured Golenishtchev, but
Vronsky was incapable of deceiving and torturing himself, and
even more incapable of exasperation. With his characteristic
decision, without explanation or apology, he simply ceased
working at painting.