Thursday, January 2:
R. had quite a good night; at breakfast he tells me many things from Plutarch, whose shorter writings he is now reading: Dionysius the Younger’s reply concerning Plato, etc., and he says, “They were so complete, those ancients!” I organize papers with friend Wolzogen, the tree is pushed to one side, and before we go to lunch, R. plays me what he has done today in ink: “Wirkte dies der heilige Tag,” the suggestion of the meadow, so heavenly in its twilight! “It must be nothing definite, just a slight haze - oh, how beautiful syncopes are, what lightness of movement they impart!” One magic is followed by another, and the new year begins for me today.
At lunch R. tells us anecdotes from Plutarch - Porus, Antigonus, Demetrios, the whole thing splendid. As we are having our coffee, he remembers his early life in Paris, his visit to the singer Dupont, so difficult to find in his country house, only then to have “Mignonne” refused! And so home. “And how did Minna react?” “Oh, I suppose she bought radishes or something; she was sorry for me.”
Heavy snow flurries, which please R., for he can stay indoors and work. The Wolzogens in the evening; R. goes through his “Language” with him and exhorts him always to maintain a tone of dignity, never to make use of “un-German” language, even in fun. Talking about Plutarch leads him to Droysen’s History of Hellenism, which he praises highly. When we are alone again, he plays to me what he was working on today, Parsifal’s entrance and the removal of his armor. Fairest of blessings, final consecration of a blessed day!