Thursday, June 19:
R. had a good night, he goes to his work, and at one o’clock he comes to read me the first part of his article, “On Poetry and Composition”; glorious moments! And then the ensuing discussion about it. R. says, “If only we had written down all our conversations, for you know it all!” He intends to make some insertions (about the Cottas, etc.).
When we are having coffee after lunch, our conversation turns to women; The Tale of the Third Kalandar from The Arabian Nights, which I am reading with Siegfried, led us to the subject. When I describe the charming scene of the 40 women and their love, R. says, “It is only the man who does not come out of it well.” I: “He has always previously performed some heroic deed which has earned him the women’s devotion.” Survey of the position today. I: “There is always at any rate one thing left for the woman to do-to keep silent.” He: “And, should the occasion arise, to gain great influence over the man, however brutal he may be. If, for instance, there is a decision to be made which demands some sacrifice, a woman like Minna would have been a great help when I wanted to give up my conducting job. But as it was, she had to put up with hearing Frau Muller, a slave to drink, saying, ‘That is your husband’s greatness, that he is able to make such a sacrifice.’ ”
“Schiller shows us a woman like this in William Tell, in the person of Stauffacher’s wife. And it is a mystical quality, it occurs in Tschudi. Women think that, since men are good-for-nothing, they can arrange the world for themselves.” A long walk with R. in the evening (along the road to Konnersreuth), more about his work-delight in the countryside. In the evening whist, then R. plays some things from his symphony for Herr Rub., who does not, however, quite know the right approach by which to listen to and judge such things. R. wanted at first to give it to him to look at, but then decided against it.
Friday, June 20:
R. had a good night, and at lunch, when I ask him about his morning, he says he is content. News of the death of Nap. III’s son gives rise to reflections on the righteousness of history. “Crime is never a good beginning,” says R., and “There is no sure foundation made on blood” comes into my mind in this connection.
In the evening discussed with friend Wolzogen the latest debate on currency reform; R. feels Bismarck has now realized where the Jews have landed him! However, he does not tell the truth, but takes refuge in bragging. Thinking of Dr. Schemann, R. says again how young and immature his friends are. The lengthy linking of R.’s work to W[olfram]’s Parzival he describes as pedantic, saying his text has in fact no connection with it; when he read the epic, he first said to himself that nothing could be done with it, “but a few things stuck in my mind-the Good Friday scene, the wild appearance of Kundrie. That is all it was.”
We search for the “inventor of wild tales,” since R. is suddenly uncertain of his quotation, and are delighted to find it in Grimm and Behn (?).