Monday, April 4:
R. slept well; he dreamed, probably because of our final conversation about Parsifal, of Holy Communion: receiving it and snatching the wine woke him up. Our topic is still Count Gobineau’s racial theory and R.’s ideas arising from it. A keen north wind prevents our going out today as well. Sad reflections on the climate and our nice house, which it will always be difficult to leave. We shall not be in Berlin until the 30th. When there is talk of great riches and what to do with them, R. says, “Nothing good can be done with money; one cannot change the human race with it; it must be abolished.”
A Herr Wanner suggests readings of the Ring in towns in which it will not be performed. Another man sends some dramas “conceived in W.’s spirit.” R. does not look at them and says, “I can provide an example, but no encouragement.” In the evening Rub. plays to us Bach’s “Chromatic Fantasy,” to R.’s infinite delight. “How can one talk of progress?” he exclaims, and explains to us how since that time forms have become trivial rather than otherwise. When friend W. stays behind and is alone with us, R. explains to him our attitude toward Hans in the clearest possible way.