Saturday, March 15:
R. had a tolerable night, so our breakfast hour is quite cheerful, cheerful and serious, for R. speaks once more about the ten years which will follow the production of the dramas, when he intends to get to the bottom of his “What is German?” theme and to examine everything, from the influence of Provence in the Middle Ages right up to the most recent times, including even the element of youth, at the risk of concluding his work in an atmosphere of complete despair.
Touching on America, he says: “Would it not be conceivable that, once the Northerners have spread down into the South and at last founded a nation, the German language would, as it were, take the place occupied by Sanskrit in India, as the cultural language, and English would become the language of the people, the Prakrit? In this study I shall also reflect on my own undertaking, have I just been a sort of mirage, or can my appearance on earth and the ideas I brought with me be seen as a sign?”
I am downstairs with the children; Fidi and Loldi are still confined to bed. R. sorts out his books in complete absorption and delights in his riches. I write to England, where they are unable to guarantee receipts of £1,000 for the concert, but put forward all sorts of strange proposals, including the building of a theater completely in accordance with R.’s ideas to present Tannhäuser and Hohengrin in German under R.’s direction!
R. is occupied with the Am Rhyn lawsuit. In the evening we are much alarmed by convulsive attacks which beset Fidi; I take him into my bed and spend the night comforting and soothing him.