[...] To-day—I have read Berlioz's latest pamphlet [...] on Fidelio. I have not met Berlioz since my concert. It used always to be I who had to visit or invite him—he never troubled himself about me. It made me very sad. I was not angry with him, I only asked whether the dear God would not have done better to leave women out of his creation. They are seldom good for anything; as a rule they injure us without any ultimate advantage to themselves. In Berlioz's case I had another opportunity of studying, with anatomical exactitude, the capacity of a bad woman for ruining a really brilliant man to her heart's content, and debasing him to the point of absurdity. What satisfaction can the unfortunate man find in it all? Perhaps the sad one of giving the worst side of his nature opportunity for a really dazzling display. Since then, as I said, I have not seen Berlioz again. Then to-day I read his article. It rejoiced me so, that despite the certainty of being colossally misunderstood by him, I wrote to him [...] in my horrible French. [...]
[...] If he mistakes me this time, I fear I shall have at least given him good reason to do so by my French! [...] Berlioz's article on Fidelio shows me plainly the unfortunate man's lonely position. His sensibilities are so acute and so profound that the world is bound to injure him and exacerbate his wounded feelings till these feelings and the influences which surround him lead him strangely astray. Indeed, he becomes estranged from himself and unconsciously he wounds himself! But it was just this insane spectacle which led me to recognise that this highly talented man can only be really befriended by men of high talent, and this in turn showed me that, in these days of ours, we three fellows alone have anything in common with each other, because we are alike—that is, you, he, and I! But it is the last thing one dares say to him; if he hears it he will lash out. A tormented god like that is a poor devil! [...]
Source: Letters of Richard Wagner, Vol. 2, selected and ed. Wilhelm Altmann, trans. M. M. Bozman (J. M. Dent & Sons, 1927), No. 464