Wagner's Letters

Richard Wagner to Josephine Maier

June 25, 1864 · Starnberg

Overview

Explaining that divorce from Minna is impossible given her heart disease and refusal to consent, Wagner asks Mathilde Maier's mother to allow her daughter to come and run his household in a chaste and honourable capacity, perhaps under some pretext of kinship, and even hints at marriage should Minna die.

Letter

My dear, kind friend,

Only to someone like yourself, to whom I am already indebted for so much love & true devotion, can I dare to address a question and a request of the kind that I must necessarily put to you today. -

I must now decide how best to set about making my house sufficiently bearable in the future, so that the splendid security which I now enjoy in my outward situation may bring about a sense of inner well-being, too. You know that I am separated from my wife: the need to entrust my household affairs to some womanly creature has recently grown so great once again that I have seriously considered whether it might not be better to ask my wife to live with me again, rather than my remaining on my own. Only the conviction based upon long experience and confirmed by the observations of all my friends and relations that our reunion would result in a far more intolerable state of affairs for the two of us than our separation could ever be - only this conviction, I say, has again obliged me to abandon the idea. In such circumstances I was obliged to think of divorcing my wife: as a result of all my enquiries, however, I have discovered that this would be impossible, since my wife is resolved never to agree to an actual divorce - although she is obliged, on the other hand, to consent to our living apart. In these circumstances a divorce could be effected only by resorting to the most extreme and distasteful measures which, in turn, would involve the use of force. In view of my wife’s state of health (a heart disease which at every moment exposes her to the risk of sudden death), it could never enter my head to commit an act of cruelty which I could never defend before my conscience and the world, no matter what my ultimate aim might be. And so I am obliged to leave the question of my marital relations temporarily unresolved. And yet the resultant indecision is not to be tolerated, preying as it does upon my peace of mind. I need a woman who, in the first place, will take over the running of my household for me, but who, ultimately, is sufficiently close to me in education and character to meet my spiritual and emotional needs with her friendly presence. I am of an age which would certainly allow me to adopt a young girl as my daughter, and I believe that such a relationship would meet my needs quite admirably. But one cannot go out in search of such a relationship: how and where should I find such a girl, whom I do not know and whom I might perhaps be over-hasty in choosing, thereby bringing down upon myself renewed and unbearable sufferings. What I need cannot be sought after but must be found as a gift from heaven. And it is precisely in this way that I have already found the kind, intelligent and good-natured creature that I need so much: you know what your daughter Mathilde means to me. She understands what my need is and what, at my age, can alone be sensible! If she is not quite of an age to be considered my daughter, there are, none the less, other degrees of kinship which she could conveniently assume in order to be able to remain in my company. I myself have nieces of her age who would cheerfully come here, and whom nobody would object to my taking in. Would such a relationship be possible even if no actual kinship could be attributed to it? I do not know how this kind of thing must appear to others: but to a man of my intentions and needs it appears so pure and blameless that I find it very difficult not to feel a real sense of bitterness when I think that the kind of relationship that I desire may appear to some people as impermissible and worthy only of blame. - This much is clear, I must consider some remedy here. My domestic arrangements for now and the future have already been made with this in mind: I live on 2 floors (not least to ensure peace from the neighbours), and use only one of them for my actual apartment, whereas I leave the other to my household staff and whoever is chosen to run the household. I must aim, as carefully as possible, to find a relatively young woman whom I can trust to satisfy whatever needs I may have but which will in no way involve any further sensuality. I have every reason to be afraid of not being able to find such a creature; I cannot decide upon any of my nieces, nor, indeed, do I wish to; - for many reasons! What follows from this? -

Would you have the courage to face the world and enough confidence in me to entrust your daughter to me? I know what a difficult question this must be for you, and that you may even be crushed by the weight of it! But I cannot avoid putting it to you. Urgent necessity constrains me to do so, for I must have a decision. Could you bring yourself to see Mathilde leaving your own home in order to be for me what she once was for you - to belong henceforth to a far-off friend in deepest need? Could you accept it (for the sake of the world) if Mathilde were to take up an honourable position and worthy station for the remainder of her life; if this were offered to her, and if it were to be to her advantage for her to accept it, surely you would not choose to oppose her, however much you would miss the dear child? - I understand how difficult and wellnigh impossible all this must seem to you: and yet - I have to ask you this question, in all seriousness, and my trust in your splendid loyalty and love gives me the courage to do so, and relieves me of any fear I may have of causing you serious offence. - Or does it require even more definite reassurances on my part before I may risk these questions? Ought I to reassure you that Mathilde will be well and truly cared for here, and that she will be protected in the most explicit and vigorous manner against all suspicion and against all taint? Or might it be possible, without nurturing an impious wish, to adduce the eventuality of my wife’s death and, in that case, to sue for your daughter’s hand in marriage? -

Whatever you may wish to retort to all this, I hope to receive a frank and amiable answer, even if it prove contrary to my wishes. I am far too fond of you to be able to imagine any change in our relations, or to believe that such a change might mislead me into committing the injustice of undervaluing your love. I have but one excuse to lay before you here for presuming upon your kindness in this way: this request is so exceptional that it can be excused only by the exceptional nature of my whole existence. After all, everything about me is out of the ordinary: thus have I acquired a king as my dearest and kindest son; and thus do I desire, chastely but sincerely, a loving woman by my side. - And so, whatever happens - do not be angry with me! - I remain eternally true and grateful,

Yours,
Richard Wagner.

Source: Selected Letters of Richard Wagner, trans. and ed. Stewart Spencer and Barry Millington (W. W. Norton & Company, 1988), No. 306