My dear: men, what a farce! It's always the same story: a woman has only herself. Crazy! Crazy!, p. 105 1852

Editor: Here we have Paul Gavarni's "My dear: men, what a farce! It's always the same story: a woman has only herself. Crazy! Crazy!" It's a small print, and I'm struck by how much emotion he conveys with just a few lines. What do you make of it? Curator: It's raw, isn't it? Gavarni captures that feeling of utter exasperation, that "hands thrown up in the air" moment. I imagine her muttering this while tossing in bed, perhaps after a particularly disappointing encounter. He invites us into this very private, almost theatrical, space. Does that make sense? Editor: Absolutely. It feels like a stolen glance at a very personal moment. The way he uses the dark lines really emphasizes her distress. Curator: Indeed. It's a fleeting moment, yet it speaks volumes about the societal expectations and frustrations women faced, a feeling that still resonates, wouldn't you say? Editor: I think you’re right. There is a timeless quality to the sentiment, even today.