X. is going to sing in Tannhäuser at R. in about a fortnight. She had to leave at once after the concert on July 12th, in order to attend to some starring engagements. I saw her first in her dressing-room at the theatre, where she had kindly invited me to visit her for a quarter of an hour after the concert. That quarter of an hour I employed in doing my duty as a doctor and apothecary in the "well-conditioned" line. I told her many and sundry things which she was able to understand. Before taking leave X. promised me to sing Ortrud and Elizabeth at Weymar in the course of next winter, which I accepted very thankfully. Papa X. has some plans for a German opera in London, and opines that your operas would have a fine effect there. I replied that the needful and indispensable would first have to be done for them in Germany. There is no hurry about London, and perfect success there is only possible when the ground in Germany has been firmly occupied.
To S. and M. I repeated once more that it would be scandalous not to give Tannhäuser on this occasion, and S. went so far as to promise me that, in case of difficulties, he would announce Tannhäuser with Frau Anschütz-Capitain in the intervals of the starring engagement.
Has Schindelmeisser sent you our Wiesbaden Lohengrin snuffbox? As Ortrud was ill, Lohengrin could not be given this week. Frau Moritz is a very amiable and excellent woman and artist. She is studying Elsa and Senta, and is quite determined to make active propaganda for your operas. Moritz is going to read your Ring of the Nibelung this month at Wiesbaden.
When I go to Carlsruhe, I shall again visit Moritz at Wiesbaden.
Your letter to C. A. reached me this morning early; excellent and worthy of you! This afternoon I drive to Ettersburg to pay my respects to the young gentleman, and shall hand him your letter at once.
The Princess of Prussia is here with her mother, and will probably remain till the end of July. Whether the etiquette of court mourning will permit me to have a talk with her I do not know.
Be happy in the Grisons, you godlike man. When you work at the Nibelungen, let me be with you, and keep me within you even as you have received me—in truth and love.
Enclosed I send you a letter from Köhler, which you may on occasion return to me. Have you read his pamphlet The Melody of Speech? Perhaps you might write a few words to him.
Do not forget the Carlsruhe scores, and, if possible, the parts.
Address always Weymar.
Enclosure.
Highly esteemed Dr. Liszt,
This is my book. Do not expect to find anything in it, lest I should have the misfortune of incurring your censure.
I have sent the book to Wagner, and it makes me anxious to think that it might displease him; I wish I knew something definite.
Wagner has given me infinitely great pleasure by sending me his Nibelungen. I owe this to you; you were my intercessor.
I am still reading the book. At first it was strange to me, but attracted me as something strange does attract us. Unconsciously, however, I lost myself in it, and now feel quite at home in it, with the true joy of Valhall. The work strikes me with a power which is of a peculiar kind, and I do not care to vex my spirit with reflections. It is such a fine thing if they do not occur of themselves, although, no doubt, the after-effect of the book will lead to reflections. I do not think that for centuries so truly sublime a piece of poetry has been created, so powerful, so full of simplicity—simple in diction—there is marrow in every word. Everything in it appears great, even in an optic sense; the forms of the gods I see before me large, but endowed with the ideal beauty of force; I hear their voices resound afar, and when they move, the air is stirred. This language is in itself true music, and therefore cannot be "set to music." I have a distinct idea of the actual representation of this work and of its perfection; and I discover a kind of speech melody in the forcibly phrased and vividly grouped verses of Wagner, such as I imagined as the ultimate ideal of dramatic tone-speech when I wrote my book; perhaps you hold a similar opinion, or rather you know, as you have been with Wagner. To him I should like to write every day, if only two lines; but Heaven preserve so much occupied a man from my very superfluous words. If Wagner would only let me know ten vocal notes from his Nibelungen, my mind would be at rest. Wotan is sublime, like a statue in bronze, and yet so humanly conceivable at the same time. The close of the first act of the Valkyrie is overpowering. Oh! how I felt with Siegmund. When I read, my soul seemed to expand as if I were looking from a high point upon a large, new world.
Let me have two brief words about Wagner's intention; I shall be eternally grateful to you. I shall always think with delight of my journey and my stay at Weimar. The Altenburg stands daguerreotyped on my soul.
I still smoke your "Plantages" cigars when I want to reward myself after much working. Your arrangement of the Ninth Symphony for two pianos has filled me with the greatest enthusiasm; it is a marvelous work, which I shall shortly notice in print.
How about new editions? Let me write about them all!
In the feuilleton of our newspaper here I wrote three articles about you and Wagner; now, after all, comes S. and writes too, upsetting so many things which I had built up. He is a terribly confused spirit, and the humour of it is that he thinks everybody else confused.
Is Raff working busily at his Samson? I hope we shall soon hear something of him. Remember me to him very kindly.
And now I take my leave of you, asking for your forbearance with your wholly devoted Louis Köhler.
Source: Project Gutenberg eBook #3835, Correspondence of Wagner and Liszt — Volume 1, No. 119