Thursday, June 15:
R. slept well, but it worries me that he will not keep to his prescribed diet and is, for instance, now having milk, coffee, and butter in the morning. A great source of worry for me today was Siegfried, whom I came upon very early in the morning, already frittering his time away! This disturbs me so much that, after the business talks with friend Gross are over, I tell R. of my concern and the measures I feel it would be desirable to take. R. has also been keeping Fidi under observation, his running wild, and he also fears signs of effeminacy. We close the chapel, Fidi’s main pastime-R. inspects it and thinks it no longer suitable for his age.
Over coffee R. reads aloud parts of his article. This is followed by many complaints about the weather, which is indeed very bad. A volume the Count has given him brings R. to the subject of French poetry, which he says is not poetry as far as he is concerned, since it makes use of such prosaic expressions (for instance, avoir sous la main [to have ready to hand]). He also says he is against the Normans, since they gave up their own language-and for such an alien one. At lunch we came to Hoffmann, and he says he cannot understand why a ballet has not been made out of Prinzessin Brambilla; he has often suggested it. Then his rage over the bad weather gives him the idea of having a saloon carriage built.
We have no music in the evening, but the subject of repeats is discussed; R. mentions an example in Cherubini’s Médée, and when I say that Gluck surely never made such errors, he says, “Oh, yes, he did,” and shows us a passage in Iphigénie which is simply marked da capo. He repeatedly expresses his disgust with present-day music-making.