[Preface. Don't be alarmed at the "thou," and look upon its spontaneous use in these lines as a reactionary outbreak of nature against our wretched etiquette. Let's hope thou wilt answer in like reactionary manner.]
Dear Friend,
In any case I should have written to you to-day, to let you have a short notice; now I receive your letter, which requires a longer answer. Yet I am anxious that you should receive news quickly, and therefore, in order to post the letter to-day, I make it only so long as time will permit.
The news is this: I shall not be ready to start on the 16th. If anything should happen of special importance which you should wish to communicate, address here still. Eight days before my definite departure I will let you know.
In no way has any change in my plan been made, so far as it depends upon myself, but only a delay in carrying it out, so far as it depends on others. The unexpected remittance from Dresden (of about five hundred thalers) I have set apart entirely for the purpose of satisfying this immediate instinct, that of providing for the barest necessities of my own and my wife's support. The sum notified by you to me I had intended for the furtherance of my Parisian plan. As I have no news thence, it has occurred to me that the remittance received from Dresden (through Herr P.) perhaps included the sum intended for me by X. I should, in this case, not be less thankful for the sympathy shown to me, but it would necessitate a change in my arrangements. Paris for me, without guarantee for my holding out as long as possible, is quite another matter. However, the first thing is to gain certain information. At the end of the year I wrote to X., which I should even have done without the news from you, as a letter was owing from me; naturally, I said nothing in it about that communication. In any case, I shall probably receive an answer within a few days. On your side, perhaps you could find out from Herr P., in a suitable manner, whether there is any ground for my supposition with regard to the participation of X. in the remittance sent from him to me, and let me know quickly. I hope I shall not appear brazen-faced and greedy to you; I submit to everything, and thank for everything, as soon as I know for certain.
Besides, I have been ailing, and am still not quite well. My familiar winter complaint has set in even here — rheumatism, which caused me much anxiety, as it went towards the heart. I had lost all inclination for work; I have not even yet been able to put on paper my opera plan, I felt so oppressed; and I only consoled myself with an expression of Feuerbach's: "He who has never called out, 'My God, why hast Thou forsaken me?' — that man has never had God in him." But I can write down that opera plan in a few days, if only fresh air blow again through my brain.
I had so much to write to you, also so much to answer in your letter, that I should consider it wrong and unseemly to do it now at a rush. But I fear, were I to-day to express myself only briefly, I should chip off the point of the matter, and never be able to return to it in minute detail. Only this much: if on reading over again my Art-work of the Future you do not clearly perceive my plan, I must have expounded it badly. The genetic origin of our mutilated modern art from collective Grecian art could only be made clear by showing in a precise manner the important moment when this art passed from direct representation into indirect representation; from Tragedy into the so-called plastic art. Perhaps you may have understood my argument as if I had wished only to notice and compare one by one the different kinds of art; in that case you have misunderstood me, or I have not expressed myself clearly. I so grouped all the arts, according to their nature, as to be able specially to show by them the development of all art, up to our modern art ideas, in common with the development of the whole being of man. Here in the allotment of space it was right to act in a thoroughly impartial manner; and I felt therefore compelled, in a note, to make excuse for my long dwelling (proportionately) on music.
But if I wish to show that plastic art, being artificial — only an art abstracted from true art — must cease entirely in the future; if to this plastic art, painting and sculpture, claiming nowadays to be principal art, I deny a life in the future, you will allow that this should not, and could not, be done with two strokes of the pen. Now you must write to me about this when you have looked through the treatise again. I quite understand, too, that you take chief interest in music; perhaps I shall return to it at greater length at some future opportunity.
Now for to-day: Conclusion!
It has touched and rejoiced me that you have often thought you could not hold out. Despair, disgust, and fiercest wrath — that is the water for the baptism of our new life. But from my inmost soul I have been forced to laugh heartily at your lack of liking for what is French, and at your recollection of the cobbler in Lumpacivagabundus. For so is it with many; and then I always think of the cobbler, this very cobbler. Enough! With so much to tell you to-day, I ought not to unbosom myself so hastily. You must not give up, but write much to me. With that you quiet one of my needs.
The Music Society here has for a long time asked me to study with them — or rather with their orchestra — a Beethoven Symphony. Now I have twice drummed through the A major Symphony with them. There is a rehearsal again to-day. At first I lost all inclination, but gradually it begins to amuse me; and in any case I hope to establish something solid, especially if I set aside all pride. I think I shall bring a little feeling of shame and disgrace to the (very) rich merchants here, and induce them to open their gold-bags in order to do something decent towards a good orchestra; if I succeed, I shall think of you for its head.
You write me nothing concerning K.: I am most anxious to know if he has a voice. I take lively interest in him, not only because I like him, but because I like the future as much as I hate the present; and to this future would willingly bring thoroughpaced artists.
Good-bye for to-day! Hearty good wishes to your new-born child!
I have forgotten nothing in this letter, but intentionally have only mentioned certain things. Good-bye. Salute my friends. Soon more from
Your
Richard Wagner.
Hottingen is a parish — a faubourg, really — of Zurich. Zurich itself consists of many separate parishes, of which each has its special name.
Source: Richard Wagner's Letters to His Dresden Friends, Theodor Uhlig, Wilhelm Fischer, and Ferdinand Heine, trans. J. S. Shedlock (Scribner & Welford, 1890), No. 6