My dear Clare,
I promised to tell you more about my reasons for taking the decisive step in which you now see me engaged. I shall tell you what you need to know to form a clear idea as to what has happened, and thus be able to counter any further gossip, although I may add that I regard such gossip with the utmost indifference.
What has sustained and comforted me during the last six years and what, more especially, has given me the strength to endure living with Minna, in spite of the enormous differences in our character and nature, has been the love of that young woman whose initial response to me was one of diffidence, doubt, hesitation and shyness, but who later approached me with increasing certainty and self-confidence. Since there could never be any question of union between us, our deep and mutual affection assumed that sadly melancholic character that banishes all vulgarity and baseness, and recognizes the source of all joy in the other’s well-being. Since first we came to know each other, she has shown the most untiring and tender concern for me, and, in the most courageous manner, obtained from her husband all that could ease my life’s burden. Faced with his wife’s open candour, the latter could not but fall prey to increasing jealousy. Her greatness lay in the fact that she kept her husband constantly informed of the state of her heart, and gradually persuaded him to resign her completely. It is not difficult to judge the sacrifices and struggles that this must have cost her: what enabled her to achieve her success was the depth and sublimity of her affection for me, from which all selfishness was banished and which gave her the strength to appear before her husband as a woman of such account that the latter, finally compelled to countenance the threat of his wife’s death, had no choice but to resign her to me, and prove his unshakeable love for her by supporting her in her concern for me. It was a question, ultimately, of not losing the mother of his own children, and so he accepted his renunciatory role for their sake, - indeed, it was they who kept us insuperably apart. And so, although he was consumed by jealousy, she herself was able to enlist his sympathy for me to the extent that - as you know - I often enjoyed his support; when it finally became a question of providing me with the little house and garden that I desired, it was she who prevailed upon him, by dint of the most unheard-of struggles, to buy me the beautiful piece of land next to his. But the most wonderful part about it is that I never had any inkling of the struggles that she underwent for my sake: because of her, her husband had always to appear friendly and uninhibited towards me; not a single black look was allowed to enlighten me, nor was he allowed to touch a single hair of my head: the very skies above me were made to seem clear and cloudless, every step I took was to be soft and yielding. Such was the unheard-of success brought about by the glorious love of the purest and most noble of women; and it was this love, to which we never gave expression, that was bound at last to reveal itself when I wrote the Tristan poem a year ago and gave it to her. Then, for the first time, her strength failed her, and she told me she would die!
Consider, dear sister, what this love must have meant for me after a lifetime of cares and suffering, of turmoil and sacrifice, such as my life has been! - But we both recognized at once that a union between us was unthinkable: and so we grew resigned, renouncing every selfish desire; we suffered, and we endured, but — we loved each other! —
Thanks to her shrewd woman’s instinct, my wife seemed to understand what was going on here: although she behaved in a way that often bespoke jealousy, scorn and condescension, she none the less tolerated our meetings, since they never offended against morality but were calculated, rather, to assure us of each other’s presence. And so I assumed we had Minna’s consent, and that she understood that there was really nothing here for her to fear, for the simple reason that, as I say, a union between us was unthinkable, and that forbearance on her part was therefore the most advisable and best course for her. Well, I was soon to discover that I had deluded myself on this point: gossip reached her ears, and she finally lost her head to the extent of intercepting a letter from me and - breaking it open. This letter, had she been at all capable of understanding it, ought in fact to have given her the reassurance she so desperately wanted; for here, too, our resignation formed the burden of its theme. But she saw no further than the expressions of intimacy that it contained, and lost her reason. Furious, she came to see me and forced me to explain to her, calmly and clearly, how she had managed to bring unhappiness upon herself by breaking open such a letter, and that, if she did not know how to control herself, we should have to part. On this point we were in agreement, I calmly, she passionately. But the next day I felt sorry for her. I went to see her, and said: “Minna, you are very ill! Get better, and then let us speak of the matter again.” We conceived the idea of sending her away on a course of treatment; she appeared to grow calmer, the day of her departure for the health resort drew nearer. She was bent on speaking to Frau Wesendonck before leaving. I forbade her explicitly from doing so. My sole concern was to acquaint Minna gradually with the character of my relationship with that woman, in order to convince her in that way that there was nothing for her to fear, as far as the continuation of our marriage was concerned, but that she should behave sensibly, reasonably and nobly, renounce all foolish thoughts of revenge, and avoid any kind of a scene. She finally vowed to do so. But she could not rest. Instead, she went over to the other house, behind my back, and - probably without understanding what she was doing - insulted that woman’s tender sensibilities in the coarsest imaginable manner. When she said to her: “If I were an ordinary woman, I should go to your husband with this letter!”, Frau Wesendonck, who was conscious of never having kept anything secret from her husband, (something that a woman like Minna cannot of course understand!), was left with no alternative but to go to her husband and report this scene and the cause of it to him. - Such crude and common interference in our pure and tender relationship was bound to have many repercussions. It took me a long time to explain to my friend that a nature like my wife’s could never be made to understand a relationship of the loftiness and disinterestedness that had existed between the two of us; for I felt most keenly her grave and deep reproach that I had neglected to attempt any such explanation, whereas she had always treated her husband as her confidant. - Anyone who can understand what I have suffered since then (it was then the middle of April) must also understand how I felt when I was finally forced to admit that my constant efforts to maintain things as they had been were totally fruitless. For three months I looked after Minna with the greatest care during her course of treatment; in order to reassure her, I finally stopped seeing our neighbours during this time; concerned only for her health, I tried everything possible to make her see reason and to do what was befitting for her, or for any woman of her age: it was all in vain! She persisted in the most trivial remonstrations, claimed to have been insulted, and scarcely had I calmed her when her old fury broke forth anew. Throughout the whole of the month that Minna was back - and while we had visitors - a final decision became increasingly inevitable. To have the two women living in such proximity to each other could not go on; for even Frau Wesendonck could not forget that, as a reward for her supreme self-sacrifice and the most tender considerations, she had been so rudely and offensively treated by me, in the person of my wife. Moreover, people had begun to talk. Enough; the most unheard-of scenes and torments showed no sign of abating, and out of consideration for the one woman as for the other I was finally forced to make up my mind to abandon that beautiful refuge that had been prepared for me with such tender affection.
What I now need, however, is rest and the most total seclusion: for there is much that I have to get over. - Minna is incapable of understanding how unhappy our marriage has been from the very beginning; she has a totally distorted view of the past, and, although I found consolation, distraction and oblivion in my art, she has even come to believe in the end that I never had need of such things. Enough, I have now made up my mind on the matter: I cannot endure these everlasting quarrels and suspicious moods of hers any longer if I am to fulfil my life’s task with any enthusiasm. Anyone who has observed me closely must have marvelled at my patience, kindness and, indeed, my weakness, and, although I may now be condemned by superficial critics, their criticisms can no longer hurt me; but Minna never had a better opportunity than this to show herself worthy of being my wife, when it was a question of rescuing the one thing that I held most highly and most dearly: it lay within her grasp to show me whether she truly loved me. But she does not even understand what true love is, and her fury blinds her to everything! -
Yet I forgive her because of her illness; although this illness, too, would have assumed a different, and milder, character if she herself had acted differently and more mildly. The many adverse adventures which she has lived through with me and which my inner genius (which, alas, I could never explain to her!) easily helped me to overcome make me feel considerate towards her; I should like to cause even her as little pain as is possible, for, ultimately, I continue to feel very sorry for her! But I feel incapable any longer of living under the same roof with her; nor can I be of any use to her in this way: I shall always be incomprehensible to her, and an object of suspicion. And so - we have separated! But in kindness and love! I do not want her to suffer shame because of me. I would wish only that she herself might realize in the course of time that it is better if we do not see much of each other in future. For the present I shall leave her with the prospect of my joining her in Germany as soon as my amnesty is announced; that is why she ought to take all our effects and furniture with her. After all, I do not want to break any promises, but prefer it if everything can be left to depend on my future state of mind. May I ask you, too, to stick to the story that it is to be only a temporary separation? I would also ask you not to neglect any means at your disposal to calm her and make her see sense! For - as I say - she is very unhappy; with a lesser husband she would have been happier. You, too, should feel sorry for her, as I do! I shall be more than grateful to you if you are, my dear sister! -
I am waiting here in Geneva for a little while longer until I can go to Italy, where I plan to spend the winter, probably in Venice. I already feel somewhat refreshed by my solitude and by the absence of such tormenting company. By the end it was impossible to think of work any longer. As soon as I feel in the right frame of mind to continue my work on Tristan, I shall know that salvation is at hand. This, indeed, is how I must seek to help myself: I ask nothing of the world but that it leave me in peace to write the works that shall one day belong to it. May I therefore not be judged too harshly by it! - Feel free to use the contents of this letter, dear Clare, in order to provide whatever explanations may be necessary. On the whole, however, I should of course prefer it if little were to be said about all that has happened. Very few people will understand what is at issue here; in order to do so they would have to be intimately acquainted with the parties concerned.
Fare you well, dear sister: and, once again, accept my sincere thanks for the discreet question which, as you can see, I have answered for you in total trust. Treat Minna indulgently, but make her understand by degrees what sort of a man she is dealing with! Fare you well!
Your brother
Richard W.
Source: Selected Letters of Richard Wagner, trans. and ed. Stewart Spencer and Barry Millington (W. W. Norton & Company, 1988), No. 216