Sunday, December 16:
Church and snow! R. works; he has at last brought Kundry into the bushes, he tells me at lunch. In the evening we take delight in the house and the hall, lit from above; as we separate, he to his work and I to some reading with the children, I remark how hard it is to have to part. He replies: “But being together, though not side by side, is just as nice. When we are side by side, we also talk about other things, but when we are separated, we can be wholly together in spirit. While working, I would be unable to speak to you, and yet I am wholly with you.”
Herr v. W. reads me his very fine essays on the Ring des Nibelungen and on Christianity. In the evening the history of the Arabs and some music from the Pastoral and Ninth Symphonies, which R. plays. Before supper he shows me what he has already worked on in ink, the shining men of Parsifal... At table his whole countenance radiates genius and goodness! He told me recently that his vehemence had been given him to compensate for his softness. He shrank away, to the point of cowardice, from saying harsh things to anybody. And it is true, people might consider him to be completely not genuine, for he does not like telling people what he thinks of them, and for that reason his only defense lies in seclusion. Beethoven’s birthday!