I must not alarm the dear child a moment longer. But I have very little to report that is at all satisfactory, at least as far as I myself am concerned. Rather let me speak of my second concert and the Viennese public: the first was extremely successful (thanks to an expensive and massive sound-board around the entire orchestra!) and the second was hot and brilliant. There was no lack of applause, more, indeed, than the first time; for entire pieces (from the Valkyrie) had to be repeated. But my old complaint keeps on recurring: namely that in the case of undertakings such as this I always have to think at the same time of making a profit - generally as a matter of extreme urgency!! The receipts were greater than anyone had suspected they would be on New Year’s Day at midday; and yet they were still not enough to cover the enormous costs. This unfortunate state of affairs has set me against all further undertakings of this kind since, although they will no doubt continue to bring me fame and reputation, they serve only to make my life’s burden all the more unbearable. Concerts can no doubt bring me certain advantages, but - they may bring me to the point where I would rather forgo all further advantages! It is with some reluctance that I have agreed to the third concert on the 11th inst., which can again be expected to involve a great deal of expense since, for my own part, I simply cannot undertake anything that is at all mediocre! It may be that the receipts on this occasion will reach the maximum possible: that might to some extent make up for everything else. But this game of chance here - when I am so very much in earnest - wears me down and revolts me!
My child, on the 2nd day of the year I was in a dreadful temper, made appreciably worse by extreme indisposition. What is more, I had to attend a piano rehearsal of Tristan on this ill-starred day, a rehearsal which, given the mood I was in, was bound to reveal to me with irrefutable clarity the irreparable harm which this whole undertaking has caused me. To have such an utterly incompetent invalid as Ander, with his threadbare voice, as my Tristan?? Impossible! - All right! they are continuing to rehearse the piece: I shall let them get on with it, but I’ll not trouble myself with it or set any store by it either. Schnorr cannot come after all — and so it looks as though all my enterprises are once more at an end! You can no doubt imagine, my child, that these were trying times - very trying times - for me: and they were the first days of the new year!! Still filled with the seriousness of this mood I have a question to put to you which you must consider in the first place as something purely theoretical, rather like a moral dilemma - : nothing more! -
When I think seriously about myself and ask myself what is going to become of me, there is only one salvation that I can envisage. I lack a home: - not in terms of a place to live, but in terms of people. I shall be 50 next May. I cannot marry as long as my wife is alive: to divorce her, given the state of her health (dilation of the heart in an advanced stage of development), when her life might be ended by the slightest blow - I cannot possibly deal her what might well be a mortal blow. On the other hand, there is nothing she will not be able to endure if she can retain the semblance of respectability. You see! I am being destroyed by this situation, and by this present state of affairs! I lack a womanly being who might resolve - in spite of everything & everyone - to be to me what only a wife can be in such pitiful circumstances, and must be, I say, if I am to survive. Well, I may perhaps be blinded by an over-estimation of my own worth if I presume to suppose that a woman who might resolve to devote herself to me in such precarious circumstances would thus be prepared to withdraw from all contact with those human relations that have no useful place in the life and work of a man like me. She would not even need to reassure herself by recalling that in other countries and other social circles the situation in which she would find herself is regarded as by no means offensive, she would need only to tell herself that she was raised high above all that was customary and usual around her - : these are more or less the things which I then say to myself! My God! how many people do I have to say these things to? And yet it gives me no comfort to do so. My desire only increases all over again; no other solution can be found: each of them leaves the yawning gulf wide open. Not the Rhine, not Biebrich, not here, not there! - I want a loving woman at my side, though she be a child as well! I then think: somewhere there must be a woman who loves you sufficiently for that. Very well; but how would you provide for her? Here, too, I have found a way.
In spite of my concerts, in spite of Tristan - I now know that I need look no further than Vienna as the focus of my activities. Everything is possible here; the ground is extremely fertile; I am held in high regard here: there is wealth in plenty. I need only to will things to happen. But how must I set about being able to do so? I now know. I shall rent a sitting-room and bedroom in the inner city, good and respectable, and shall furnish it in a modest way; and it is here that I shall “live”; people will visit me in the afternoons at set hours; once and for all, I shall not admit callers in the mornings, and only in certain rare cases in the evenings. But - where shall I work? where shall I really be at home? - here, too, I have the answer. I shall have a pleasant apartment in some free and attractive suburb, but I shall not live there, no, it will be a dear child (or wife) - call her what you will - who lives there. Additionally, I shall install my Biebrich furnishings and the Erard grand piano there, too. The faithful child will nurse me with her tender loving cares. And when I wake up in the morning, feeling refreshed, the child will come to my bedside; she will attend to my breakfast, and then I shall work, no one will be allowed to see me, except for my friend, who will come and see how my work is progressing. She will then provide me with a good, yet simple, midday meal. But then I shall have to go into town, give audiences, pay various visits and, if all goes well, I shall then return punctually of an evening to the place where I really belong. There is no doubt but that, on an external level, I shall be able to carry out this plan in a large city: everything will fall into place as though of its own accord. - But who is the woman who will live out there? R. W.’s final refuge, his angel, - his wife, - if the unhappy woman who married him in the blindness of her youth were to die before him. -
You see, these are the thoughts of - a desperate man on New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day! God knows what you will make of them! None the less, I could not conceal from you the things I was plotting. How will you interpret them?? Yes, - ultimately, it is only a theoretical problem which I have set you. But it is none the less interesting to discuss it. What do you think, my little friend? -
For today, my child, my warmest and most sincere good wishes. You should also read the “Armer Heinrich” of Hartmann von der Aue, in Simrock’s translation! - The beautiful violet scarf never leaves my neck, so that it will very soon be threadbare - alas; how you flatter me, my love! -
Best wishes to Mama and your aunts: as for my return? - Oh, who can tell - with me everything is left completely to chance. - And Louise must remain faithful to me, and visit us often in Vienna. Best wishes also to Kath: who knows, I may after all have to go to Petersburg in the middle of February. I need to earn enough money to set up house, (we must also have a little dog!) Ah - it’s heart-breaking! Believe me! but be good to me in spite of all that, just as you are always kind & dear to me: you must believe that, too! And now a kiss! Adieu!
Yours,
R.W.
Source: Selected Letters of Richard Wagner, trans. and ed. Stewart Spencer and Barry Millington (W. W. Norton & Company, 1988), No. 282