Dear Anton!
A feeling of deep well-being and reconciliation with all mankind is aroused in me whenever I consider your priceless friendship. Accept my most cordial thanks and, in untroubled happiness, enjoy the fine consciousness which your noble loyalty must afford you!
Your news concerning my wife does not find me unprepared. From her letters and her own confessions I can clearly see how serious the poor soul's condition is. However, I particularly feel how much your professional efforts have been hindered in their success by the fact that my wife continues to be surrounded by acquaintances who can have only an injurious effect on her. I am not speaking here of evil influences, but only of the thoughtless conduct of women in general, and of women of a certain inferior cultivation in particular. She has relations with all sorts of old spinsters, etc., who, since women in general are without real discernment, stand on a very low level of moral and intellectual breeding among the true Dresden element (which is well known to be one of the most miserable!). First she is alarmed by this piece of news, then again by that: gossip, and again gossip! There is Frau Tichatscheck in Dresden, who visited her quite purposely to worry her anew about the matter of my amnesty; all the peace which I have sought to bring to my wife in the face of this is being destroyed again. She is urged to entreat me to take this or that step (entirely unconsidered on her part). And thus have matters continued. Or she goes to a performance of my operas in Dresden: there she needs must run, now, from one to the other, telling each one something pleasant, and then she goes back home with her heart agitated to the utmost. There is in addition the eternal worry about me, the expectations, the inquisitiveness. Thus one thing is clear to me: that my wife had you for a doctor was fortunate for her, but that this had to be just in Dresden was a misfortune. In any other place she would have been less exposed to all those influences which I have briefly indicated. There, dear Anton, she cannot improve; and what she needs very badly, in addition to medical assistance, is to be watched over firmly and continually, and removed to a place where it is easy to keep her from contact with all that pernicious feminine gossip.
In regard to Paris, you are now mistaken. My wife will live with me here in the greatest retirement. I have rented a very attractive lodging almost on the outside of the city, in a new, extremely quiet quarter, with a high location, the purest air, near the most pleasant walks, the Bois de Boulogne, etc. I also can improve my health in no other way than by living quietly, without social bother, and in the greatest peace and pleasant domestic comfort. I shall engage in the enterprises which await me here only on the understanding that I tend strictly to the business at hand and keep absolutely aloof from the forming of coteries, which others indeed think necessary: fortunately, my reputation is so great even here in Paris, that I need have no considerations of this sort and can go my way in peace. My wife will live with me very pleasantly and peacefully, without either one of us in the least disturbing the other. I will insist on her engaging a young, cultivated person who shall always be close to her as a nurse, companion, and particularly as a reader. As for domestic affairs, she will not have to trouble herself in any other way than by arranging for things and giving orders, which in view of the unusual simplicity and regularity of my mode of living can only be a pleasant thing for her. On this account I shall make every imaginable sacrifice and try to be able to afford it by means of my enterprises. She shall be able to go out daily to take her drive as she pleases. I shall not entertain, nor induce my wife to accept invitations that may be extended to me (when I feel that they might inconvenience her — on account of the French language). On the other hand, I count on frequent evening calls from a few very congenial old German friends. My wife shall also go to theatres or concerts often, to amuse herself. All this, however, like everything in general in Paris, will stand in a certain distant relation to her, somewhat like that of the play to the audience, whereas in Dresden she is, as it were, in the midst of the action. Believe me, dearest friend, I know very well what I am doing and why, in taking my wife from Dresden to Paris. Moreover, by having her constantly with me, a thousand occasions for uneasiness and uncertain fancies will be removed from her, and I myself now feel greatly certain, after all my experiences, that in my Paris situation I would be able to exert a diverting and calming influence upon the patient. Therefore, I ask you not to object to her removal to Paris: have faith in my reasons!
It is otherwise, however, with the project of our meeting in Karlsruhe at the time of the rehearsal and performance of my new work. Persuaded by your reports, and after careful consideration, I must declare myself absolutely against the realization of this plan. From the day of my arrival there, I shall be engaged in such enormous and exciting activity that I should be quite incapable of exerting any beneficial influence on my wife during the time of my stay there. I myself have been very much afraid of this period. To rehearse a new work like Tristan for the first time, considering the immense difficulties it offers the intellect and subtle perceptions, and in view of its extraordinarily passionate character, is a task which I dare attempt only very rarely now, and especially since I have kept away from activity of this kind for so long. Depression, half despair, with terrible excitement and superhuman nervous and even physical strain, will reduce me to a state there in which I shall need every amount of indulgence and attendance and I shall be utterly incapable of extending the same to others. In addition, there would be our first reunion again, my wife's quite natural excitement, her trouble and worry over me, her own anxiety for the success of the thing, then my inevitable irritability, etc. After considering all this, it seems quite impossible for my wife to be present in Karlsruhe at that time. It would be an entirely different thing if I should arrange later for a performance of Tannhäuser in Paris: because of my greater experience, my attitude towards this older work has become completely detached, calm, and objective; I myself should not conduct, but only assist in the whole thing and take care that it be well understood. For us both, this would be an entertainment rather than an excitement.
Therefore, please listen to my decision. First of all, my wife shall remain under your kind guidance in Dresden, following the grape-cure prescribed by you, which will certainly be very beneficial to her. After its completion, at the end of this month, it will then be simply a question of whether she perhaps shall come at once to Paris or first wait until I have finished in Karlsruhe. I now suppose that I shall defer the performance of Tristan until the third of December, because they wish to have it for the birthday of the Grand Duchess of Baden. If this is the case, then I am not counting on being called to Karlsruhe before the middle of November, and so my wife could indeed come directly to Paris in early November, where she will enjoy entering the completely arranged establishment, with our familiar Zurich furniture. I would then be with her for about a week and could hope to leave her really at peace and agreeably consoled, under the care of her companion and a servant-girl, in her settled household, surrounded by her good domestic pets, while I would get over the Karlsruhe expedition alone. In Karlsruhe I should then be best received and cared for at Devrient's (if I come alone). After four weeks I would then return to my wife, and everything would have passed away from her like a remote dream. If I should now have to go to Karlsruhe sooner, it would by all means be more sensible for my wife to wait in Dresden during the whole time, and for me merely to meet her first on my return to Paris, either there or en route, perhaps about the middle of December, but I consider the first plan the more sensible, because I could bring her about a month earlier to her peaceful Paris home, remove her from the unfavourable social influences of Dresden, and in addition, travelling would be better early in November than in the middle of December.
This, therefore, is my plan. I am looking forward, dear friend, to your assent. For, consider one thing! It is true that definite medical intervention was indispensable in my wife's case: finally, however, in spite of all the art and care of the doctor, the moral influences in an illness of this sort are the most weighty, and in this regard the life and death of my wife — as I well know — depends solely on me! I can destroy her, but I can also save her: accordingly, since I know that her fate rests in my hands, my future manner of behaviour towards her is dictated with the greatest certainty. Trust me!
I still have to discuss another important point with you. It is of such a delicate nature that I can scarcely speak of it to a friend, but only to the friendly physician. A great reason for my wife's disquieted condition lies in the discontinuance of my sexual relations with her, which gradually came about entirely of itself, simply as a result of her poor state of health. I do not believe that I have to accuse her of a passionate sensuality (although I cannot judge to what extent her extremely over-excited nervousness has influenced her in this respect also); however, in any case, from this time on she became troubled by jealousy more than ever before. She really understands me too little and has no accurate idea of the true seriousness of my character. I hope now that in time she will find every reason to recognize the foolishness of her jealousy; nevertheless, I consider it important, in view of the irresponsible condition of one so diseased mentally, for you, as a physician, to impose a strict prohibition in regard to this — indeed you can half-jokingly turn it against me — a prohibition based on the fact that she must consider herself as well as me. Let me suggest that much to you: unfortunately, things of this sort are of an undeniable importance!
And now once more my deep and most profound thanks, you dear and noble loyal friend! I am giving you no further news of me, because this is always obtainable through my wife. It is enough to say that I feel in me peace and patience for everything and everyone. I hope still to bring off a performance of Tannhäuser in Paris this winter. Then I may also have the good fortune to sell the opera to a Paris publisher, and hence have the satisfaction, by the conscientious fulfilling of my promise, of promptly repaying a surely not small part of my pecuniary debt to you.
So then good-bye, give my hearty regards to your dear little wife and your many, many children, and rest assured of my enduring affection and gratitude.
Your
Richard Wagner
4, Avenue de Matignon, Champs Élysées
Source: The Letters of Richard Wagner to Anton Pusinelli, trans. and ed. Elbert Lenrow (Alfred A. Knopf, 1932), No. 25