Cosima's Diaries

Recordings by Cosima Wagner between 1869 and 1883

Cosima Wagner’s diaries are one of the most extraordinary inner records of nineteenth-century artistic life: part household chronicle, part spiritual notebook, part Bayreuth archive, and part psychological portrait of Wagner’s final years. Across thousands of entries, we see the daily world behind the myth: children, servants, illness, money, visitors, letters, rehearsals, readings, quarrels, weather, politics, music, and moments of almost mystical illumination. The diaries follow Wagner from the intimate Tribschen years through the creation of Bayreuth, the triumph and crisis of the 1876 Ring Festival, the making of Parsifal, the rise and collapse of the Nietzsche relationship, and the darker ideological currents that increasingly gathered around Wahnfried, including Wagner and Cosima’s antisemitism. They are not a neutral record, nor always a comfortable one, but they are indispensable: a vast, intimate, often beautiful, often disturbing window into the household where Wagner’s final works, his self-mythology, and the Bayreuth idea took shape.

The diary entries gathered here cover the years from January 1869 to February 1883, carrying the reader from the last Tribschen years to Wagner’s final days in Venice. Their breadth is astonishing. They are at once a household record, an artistic logbook, a spiritual notebook, a political barometer, and the intimate chronicle of a private circle attempting to become a public institution. Cosima records children’s illnesses, lessons, servants, meals, letters, debts, travel, weather, music-making, rehearsals, guests, books, dreams, religious reflections, and Wagner’s daily moods. The sublime and the administrative are never far apart. A passage on Schopenhauer, Shakespeare, Calderón, Beethoven, or Christ may sit beside anxieties about singers, money, doctors, railway journeys, or household arrangements.

The early years, especially 1869 to 1871, still belong largely to the private world of Tribschen. They are filled with the pressures surrounding Cosima’s separation from Hans von Bülow, her union with Richard Wagner, the birth and childhood of Siegfried, and the intense domestic enclosure in which Wagner’s later work was nurtured. Yet the outside world continually enters: King Ludwig, Munich theatrical politics, the Franco-Prussian War, German nationalism, and the first sustained appearances of Friedrich Nietzsche. Wagner’s work on Siegfried and the wider Ring is recorded not as a distant masterpiece but as something happening in rooms, at the piano, amid children, letters, exhaustion, and sudden exaltation.

From 1871 onward, the diaries begin to turn toward Bayreuth. At first it appears as an idea, almost a visionary solution to the failures of ordinary theatres. Soon it becomes practical reality: sites, architects, patrons, Wagner societies, subscriptions, guarantees, construction, copyists, singers, scenery, and the immense labour of creating a theatre for one artistic purpose. The move to Bayreuth and the building of Wahnfried do not simplify life. They intensify it. The diaries show Bayreuth not merely as a shrine, but as a project beset by money, politics, vanity, devotion, incompetence, faith, and fatigue.

The approach to the 1876 Ring cycle dominates the middle years. The Festival is presented as the culmination of decades of artistic striving, but Cosima’s record makes clear how fragile the whole enterprise was. Every singer, rehearsal, costume, curtain, orchestral problem, and financial arrangement seems capable of threatening the ideal. After the Festival, the tone shifts sharply. The achievement has happened, but its aftermath is troubled by deficit, press hostility, uncertainty about future performances, the proposed Society of Patrons, the founding of the Bayreuther Blätter, and the London concerts undertaken to repair the damage. Bayreuth has succeeded as revelation, but it has also become a burden that must somehow survive in the world.

After 1876, Parsifal gradually becomes the spiritual centre of the diaries. The entries from 1877 to 1882 increasingly revolve around its poem, score, staging, rehearsals, religious atmosphere, and practical realization. The world of the Grail enters the daily life of Wahnfried: Gurnemanz, Kundry, Amfortas, Klingsor, the Flower Maidens, the Temple, the Communion imagery, the question of sacred drama, and the problem of presenting a work that seems to demand reverence from a public theatre. At the same time, Wagner’s health, his travels, his growing weariness, and the family’s movements through Italy and Venice give the later diaries a more autumnal character.

The diaries must also be read with full awareness of their antisemitism. This is not a marginal feature. In the early years, anti-Jewish remarks often cluster around the controversy of Wagner’s Judaism in Music, hostile critics, the press, Meyerbeer, musicians, theatre politics, and questions of assimilation. By the later 1870s and early 1880s, the tone changes. Antisemitism becomes more sweeping, more political, and more programmatic. The entries increasingly connect Jews with finance, journalism, liberalism, modernity, social decay, and Germany’s loss of spiritual identity. The diaries also record Wagner and Cosima reading or discussing figures such as Disraeli, Stoecker, Gobineau, and writings on the so-called Jewish question. By 1881, this hostility has hardened into open sympathy for anti-Jewish agitation and fantasies of expulsion, separation, or emigration. The development is ugly, historically important, and inseparable from the world these diaries disclose.

That ugliness is made more complex, not less, by the fact that Jewish individuals remain present in Wagner’s life and work: friends, patrons, musicians, correspondents, and, most famously in the late Bayreuth circle, Hermann Levi. The diaries therefore reveal not a simple contradiction but a deeper moral failure: Wagner and Cosima could depend on, admire, or work intimately with individual Jews while still interpreting Jewishness itself through hostile and dehumanizing abstractions. Any serious encounter with these diaries must resist both sanitizing this material and reducing the whole archive to it.

The Nietzsche story forms another major arc. In 1869, Nietzsche enters as a brilliant young philologist and soon becomes a cherished visitor, correspondent, and intellectual ally. The early diaries record excitement over his writings, especially the work that would become central to the Wagnerian cause, The Birth of Tragedy. During the Bayreuth years he appears as part of the wider hope for a new German culture, one that might unite art, philosophy, and spiritual renewal. Yet the relationship gradually frays. His ill health, his independence, the influence of Paul Rée, his rejection of Schopenhauer, and the publication of Human, All Too Human transform him in the Wagners’ eyes from disciple into apostate. By the later entries, Nietzsche is remembered with bitterness, as a figure of disappointment, ingratitude, and betrayal.

What makes these diaries invaluable is precisely their mixture of greatness and blindness. They reveal the daily climate in which Wagner’s late works were conceived, defended, mythologized, and institutionalized. They show Bayreuth being born out of metaphysical ambition and practical desperation. They show Parsifal emerging from religious longing, theatrical calculation, bodily decline, and cultural polemic. They show friendship turning into estrangement, devotion turning into dogma, and spiritual aspiration entangled with prejudice. To read Cosima’s diaries is to enter the workshop, chapel, battlefield, and household of Wagner’s final years.

Year

Month

1869• 1870• 1871• 1872• 1873• 1874• 1875• 1876• 1877• 1878• 1879• 1880• 1881• 1882• 1883

Jan• Feb• Mar• Apr• May• Jun• Jul• Aug• Sep• Oct• Nov• Dec

Showing entries for January 1877 (30 total)

Date	Word Count	Subject	Content
January 1, 1877	22	The day was shaped by religious observance, social visits, and a serious conversation directed at Daniella. It closed with a heavy, corrective tone rather than celebration, setting a stern start to the new year.	Monday, January 1: Went to church with Daniella and Blandine. Then paid calls with R. In the evening a long exhortation to Daniella!
January 2, 1877	28	The morning continued a pattern of guiding and correcting the child, followed by a pleasant shared music-making session that lifted the mood. Later, correspondence occupied the evening while R. spent time reading.	Tuesday, January 2: Renewal of the exhortations to my child, then made music with her - Egmont, much enjoyment from it. In the evening letters, while R. reads Sismondi.
January 3, 1877	47	The household centered on work with the children, but R. was dispirited and resentful about being pushed into public performances. While the narrator handled letters, he withdrew into reading and seemed mentally elsewhere.	Wednesday, January 3: Work with the children; R. listless and in low spirits, feels he is being driven into the performances like N[apoleon] III into war! Feels that everything he intends to do in this matter should have been done by others. I write letters, he reads Sismondi.
January 4, 1877	107	The narrator reflects on duty as a necessary support against deep melancholy, taking comfort in small responsibilities and the children’s well-being. The day also included social calls and a shared literary evening that brought real enjoyment.	Thursday, January 4: My mainstay lies in carrying out every duty, however trivial, to the last detail, for my melancholy is profound and it would envelop everything but for this strange power standing upright like a column amid ruins. The children are flourishing, the four of them, and I also have good hopes for Daniella. R. continues with his historical work, I pay some calls with Lusch, and in the evening read Childe Harold. Since the print is too small for my eyes, R. takes over the reading in German, and we greatly enjoy this final canto; I remark that Byron had the same sort of impressions as R.
January 5, 1877	65	The day was spent working and then discussing Fidi’s future, with an emphasis on inheritance, education, and the possibility of his creative development. R. even imagined a work written for him far in the future, underscoring how long-term the family’s artistic thinking had become.	Friday, January 5: Work with Lusch. After lunch R. talks about Fidi's education and his future: he would already have enough to occupy him if he were to take over his father's intellectual heritage, win and create new ground for his ideas. R. also says he would write Parzival for him, making the condition that it be produced 30 years after our death (R.'s and my death).
January 6, 1877	73	Most of the day was consumed by accounting, but news from the region shifted attention to poverty and industrial decline. The entry ends with sharp criticism of luxury spending abroad and a desire to strengthen local production.	Saturday, January 6: Practically all day long checking account books! We hear that the weavers in the neighborhood of Hof are in such distress that an outbreak of typhoid fever is expected - with what indifference governments regard such situations! And how run down is the industry of this country! R. says he would make all the princesses run the gauntlet for buying their finery abroad, instead of helping and reviving the country's industries.
January 7, 1877	63	The family attended church, but the day darkened when R. recounted distressing dreams and then news arrived of a death among friends. The evening ended in shared grief and silence.	Sunday, January 7: To church with the children. R. again had bad dreams - that I had gone mad, he ran after me, wanted to call a doctor, this earth apart from me. Late in the evening letters arrive; Clemens Brockhaus informs us of the death of his father, that gifted, charming man who was always so friendly toward R.; we remain silent and weep.
January 8, 1877	85	Hans’s birthday brought a solemn atmosphere, with repeated appeals to Daniella and prayers for her future devotion and his health. The evening turned to organizational matters around a proposed patrons' society, though a visitor was skeptical and practical concerns about the finances remained.	Monday, January 8: Hans's birthday, earnest mood, exhortations to Daniella, prayer that her father may remain in good health and she become worthy of dedicating her life to him. R. reads me his appeal for the foundation of a Society of Patrons. In the evening friend Feustel visits us, and this is also read to him; he does not seem to approve of it, he wants the festival to be announced right away, on account of the deficit. Daniella today taken back to school by Mrs. Cooper.
January 9, 1877	78	Children, walking, and play filled the earlier part of the day, but the mood sharpened once civic and artistic planning came into focus. A compromise emerged around the festival and school idea, even as R. resisted being forced into action by financial pressure.	Tuesday, January 9: Worked with the children, went for a walk, and played. In the evening the mayor and friend Feustel agree that Richard's idea of establishing a school (so that he can first train his singers here) is a very good one, but they ask permission to take steps toward announcing the festival. R. very agitated: "I don't want to be obliged to stage a festival just on account of the deficit." But he gives way in the end.
January 10, 1877	85	The day carried a sense of uneasy calm interrupted by sorrow and uncertainty about upcoming performances. Political and social developments seemed to support R.'s plans, yet his agitation remained visible, and the entry ends with anxious hope for a long-delayed work.	Wednesday, January 10: Still the same life - the great peace which could arise out of our being and living together unfortunately disturbed by sorrows. General v. der Tann told our friend Mimi in Berlin that the King truly wants the performances. Councilor Diifflipp writes to say he is definitely coming. Today R. took part for the first time in an election, to elect Herr Feustel to the Reichstag. Dr. Strecker (B. Schott's Söhne) comes to inquire about Parzival... Alas, Parzival, when will thy star shine forth?
January 11, 1877	80	R. is finishing Sismondi and becoming even more absorbed in his studies, while the writer regrets being unable to share that intellectual routine because domestic duties leave no time. She listens closely to his conversation instead, valuing the chance to keep up with his thoughts indirectly.	Thursday, January 11: R. is now reaching the end of Sismondi, increasingly content with his reading, to which, as with everything else, he devotes tremendous liveliness and personal productivity. I have with some regret to tell him that I am unfortunately no longer able to join him in such studies, since house and children do not permit it. I try to learn from his conversation as much as I can, and appreciate being able to follow him, if only in this way.
January 12, 1877	49	A welcomed visit from Prince Rudolph Liechtenstein brings lively conversation throughout the day and pleasure for the children as well. Amid the social bustle, she also notes writing to Mimi and R. inviting Herr Betz to sing again.	Friday, January 12: Prince Rudolph Liechtenstein announces his coming visit and arrives today around 1 o'clock, to everyone's delight, for the children also like him very much. Much conversation throughout the afternoon and evening. (Wrote to Mimi in the morning.) R. writes to Herr Betz, inviting him once again to sing.
January 13, 1877	75	The friends’ visits briefly interrupt the progression of their studies, but the household remains full of literary and musical discussion. R. is described as exhausted by his own intense engagement, yet still pouring energy into everything around him, including ideas for the new Bayreuth paper.	Saturday, January 13: The progress of studies is slightly interrupted by the visit of our friend. In the evening Richard Pohl, too, and on Sunday the 14th Hans v. Wolzogen, with a view toward starting the Bayreuther Blätter. R. is very tired, however, almost exhausted, since he takes such an incomparable and lively interest in everything. Thus, for instance, Kitchen's deeds and sufferings, which he sees as the whole theme of the play, rise up before us.
January 15, 1877	28	Their guests depart in damp weather, leaving a quieter atmosphere and giving R. a chance to rest. He is not well, so the day is spent mostly in reading together and speaking as little as possible.	Monday, January 15: General departure of our friends, in wet weather. R. unfortunately not at all well. We talk little, sit together reading, just so that he may rest.
January 16, 1877	70	The day follows its usual domestic rhythm, with lecturing that she treats lightly. R. is agitated and unwell, so they avoid discussion and instead find solace in beginning Thucydides, whose tone fills them with admiration.	Tuesday, January 16: My life in its usual tracks; my lecturing makes me laugh. R. unfortunately very agitated and unwell, feels a tightness in his chest; we flee from both thought and speech. In the evening we start on Thucydides's History of the Peloponnesian War and close the book at the end in a mood of real enthusiasm: it makes the impression of a noble child speaking the truth, solemn, impartial, naive.
January 17, 1877	54	Her delight at hearing R. laugh suggests a brief improvement in his mood. Later they read about Beethoven and Meyerbeer, and the evening deepens their appreciation for Thucydides as their intellectual excitement grows.	Wednesday, January 17: Today, to my great joy, I heard R. laughing loudly; soon afterward he brought me Nohl's book, in which there is an account of Tomaschek's visit to B[eethoven] and B.'s statement about Meyerbeer: B. describing M.'s main characteristic as a lack of courage. In the evening we read Thucydides with mounting intellectual enjoyment.
January 18, 1877	109	R. is again troubled, even speaking of surrendering everything to someone else to manage. She steadies herself through routine, teaching the children and drawing moral parallels for them, while their shared reading of Thucydides brings renewed exhilaration.	Thursday, January 18: R. much grieved and worried, says he would like best of all to hand everything over to an entrepreneur. Councilor Düfflipp does not come, and people are pressing! I find it incomprehensible that the ability to endure still persists, and even the feeling for, and appreciation of, noble things. I am sustained by my regular way of life, my lessons for the children (today I drew for Boni a parallel between Emperor Heinrich II and Marcus Aurelius); R. by the divine gift of genius! ... We read Thucydides again with unending delight. In the evening a telegram from Herr Niemann, saying he will be there if he must be!
January 19, 1877	126	A refusal from Herr Betz and ongoing financial strain push R. toward thoughts of giving up control of the work, which deeply upsets her. She fears the loss of what they have built, but the children remain unaware and the day eventually lifts into renewed wonder through Thucydides.	Friday, January 19: Lessons for the children. At midday a letter from Herr Betz, once more refusing in a rather malicious tone to participate. R. says, “He will come to my aid.” Again he speaks of handing it over to an entrepreneur; I have to weep, for I would wish it otherwise, would rather we pledged all our resources for years ahead but kept a hold on the work; R. does not want this, he also feels it would not be possible, the debt is too great for us to pay off. God protect us! The dear children help by being kept from noticing anything, and in the end our mood always begins to lighten, until it is turned to utter rapture by contact with the ancient world! (Thucydides.)
January 20, 1877	153	The morning begins with a strangely comforting dream and a series of encouraging letters and reports about performances and visitors. R. quietly prepares a written response to criticism, choosing restraint and silence over public chatter, while the evening continues with reading.	Saturday, January 20: R. had a tolerable night, with a pleasant dream about his old parrot, which came flying back to him, calling, “Richard, Richard!”, and singing him melodies from his works. As I am going to the children's room, I find on my table a letter from Herr Levi, the conductor: he is here, feeling after a “very successful” performance; we are astonished. Friend Feustel, now a Reichstag deputy, informs us on his return from Munich that Councilor Düfflipp wishes to come here tomorrow, and that the opinion in Munich is very favorable! Continue our reading in the evening. Yesterday R. dictated an extract from his biography, so as to give Herr Tappert something with which to reply to the attacks. R. told me nothing about this until he had already sent it off, I believe because he knows how indifferent I am toward all the chatter, and that indifference lies closest to preserving silence.
January 21, 1877	93	Plans for another important visit are confirmed, and the household also marks Feustel’s birthday with lunch. R. is still not well but turns to Faust, and the arrival of Councilor DufHipp revives memories of earlier days at Tribschen.	Sunday, January 21: Telegram from Councilor Düfflipp, announcing his arrival this evening. Lunch at friend Feustel's, whose birthday it is. R. not very well, finds his greatest pleasure in rereading Faust, tells us that Shakespeare, with Dante before him and Goethe after him, forms a line shaped rather like this: Shakespeare belonging to a culminating point in civilization; Goethe, no less great, to a time of decadence. Councilor Düfflipp arrives at 11:30, talks about the time ten years ago when he came to Tribschen; he seems very friendly. Ten years ago! Memories crowd into my mind.
January 22, 1877	167	The day is consumed by a tense meeting with officials about finances, the king’s expectations, and the uncertain future of the performances. The councilor stays evasive, and by the end it is clear he brings no practical solution and may even be carrying the king’s anger and demands for repayment.	Monday, January 22: R. is not well and gives me the attached paper and instructions to represent him at the conference between Herr Feustel and Herr Duflipp, who meet downstairs at 10:30. I join the gentlemen and note with astonishment that the councilor has no intention of making proposals of any sort; he says he has no idea whether the King still wants the performances, etc. Herr Feustel proposes that the cost of the deficit should be divided up between various patrons, who would then be approached. Lunch with the gentlemen, along with the mayor and Herr Gross. Our good councilor does not emerge from his shell, and the purpose and point of his journey remain unclear to us. In the afternoon he tells R. that the King is hurt because R. did not thank him for sending the pictures at Christmas! ... He tells the mayor and Feustel that the King instructed him to demand the return of his money, and he has no intention of providing more.
January 23, 1877	90	After the councilor departs with thanks for the welcome, the household turns to the question of how to close the deficit. Richard briefly considers concert work in England, but illness and the risk of interfering with Hans’s prospects make the idea troubling; the evening ends quietly with him unwell and the narrator handling accounts.	Tuesday, January 23: Departure of the councilor, who thanks me very much for our friendly reception! R. has the idea of going to England and giving concerts there to cover the deficit. I cause him displeasure by reminding him that England is the only place in which Hans, still ill in Hanover, seems to have been able to establish himself, and I fear our undertaking might damage him there. In the evening R. is very indisposed. We do not read together; he continues with Nohl’s Beethoven, and I attend to my accounts.
January 24, 1877	73	Richard feels somewhat improved and needs rest, while a moving account of Beethoven’s death deeply affects him. The family deliberately keeps conversation light, and the children help create a calm atmosphere that lets him sleep well and wake in better spirits.	Wednesday, January 24: R. is somewhat better, all he needs is rest. Very moved by the account of Beethoven’s death, he relates it to me. We enjoy a good, quiet day of forgetfulness; I purposely divert the conversation from all subjects which oppress us, and the children contribute in their own way toward producing a cheerful mood, and thus we succeed in giving R. a good night, from which he awakes in good spirits.
January 25, 1877	241	The conversation ranges over Beethoven, genius, and the sorrow it can bring, with Richard reflecting bitterly on the burdens of exceptional talent. He also reveals, with great excitement, that he has begun Parsifal, then later distracts himself with Machiavelli and complaints about mocking press attention and autograph requests.	Thursday, January 25: We talked a lot about Beethoven and his death: “Oh, if only there were no such thing as genius! It brings more suffering than comfort and joy.” “The church used to know what to do with geniuses; when it disappears, the last refuge for geniuses will also have disappeared.” Then he calls out to me: “There is something I won’t tell you.” “Oh, please tell me!” “I am going to begin Parsifal and shan’t let it out of my sight until it is finished,” whereupon I laugh aloud for joy. Yesterday I told him of the curious impression Iphigenia made on me when I recently read it again, its maxims, its noble savages beyond all improvement (Arkas); he says it is like a sacrificial feast, which starts with people singing, “Come, slay and roast our enemies,” and then the whole thing becomes an idyll. As regards the maxims, he recites proverbs in a bombastic manner, as if they were question and answer: “It is the last straw which breaks the camel’s back.” “But devil take the hindmost.” “For, after all, charity begins at home.” Around midday, however, R. is not very well, and in the evening he tells me that the mail had brought him some scoffing newspaper reports and requests for autographs. He takes up Machiavelli, the life of Castruccio Castracani and also parts of The Prince, says that M. was a Greek in his truthful way of posing questions.
January 26, 1877	65	A snowfall brightens an otherwise bleak day, and the children donate their savings for the suffering weavers of Hof, a gesture that deeply moves the narrator and Richard. The evening is spent returning to Thucydides, especially a speech that captures their imagination.	Friday, January 26: A snowfall, so there is some light from below at least. The children give their savings (140 marks) for the poor weavers of Hof, whose need defies all description. “And it is for this we have a state!” says R. It is disgraceful; I can hardly think about anything else. In the evening I took up Thucydides again, entranced by Diodorus’s speech against Cleon.
January 27, 1877	67	The narrator looks into arranging a lottery for the weavers and gains a sobering glimpse of how little compassion people show. Domestic work with the children fills the day, while Richard thinks through names for Parsifal and the evening ends with unease at the savagery described in Thucydides.	Saturday, January 27: Occupied in inquiring whether a lottery might not be organized for the poor weavers, thereby gaining a peculiar insight into human apathy. Regular work with the children; R. talks about the names in Parsifal; what to call his old man? Gurnemanz is not right; Arabic, something Gothic must be found. In the evening read a little Thucydides, dismayed at the cruelty of these beautiful wild animals.
January 28, 1877	89	The house is full of callers, including Feustel checking on a letter to the king and a ballet master whom Richard has recommended for Lohengrin in Turin. Later they review the festival performances and measure how much of it still stands up to scrutiny, while Feustel reports continued interest in the productions.	Sunday, January 28: Many visits. Herr Feustel anxious to know whether R. has written to the King, which he did a week ago. Ballet master Fricke on his way to Turin as an international producer. R. has recommended him for a production of Lohengrin. In the evening we went through all our memories of the festival performances: what stands up to even the simplest of examinations? Betz, Brandt, Doepler, Niemann, the Bruckner brothers, etc., etc.? R. reads Machiavelli. Herr Feustel told us he had received several inquiries regarding the festival performances.
January 29, 1877	66	Richard feels better after a good night, and the children’s presence adds to the day’s warmth despite heavy snow. The narrator writes letters of thanks, including one for an elaborate handmade Nibelungen theater, and the little ballet master leaves for Italy in the evening.	Monday, January 29: R. is somewhat better, had a good night, and the children bring us joy. Letter to Marie Donhoff, also to Judith, to thank her for the children’s Nibelungen theater, which she made herself, providing it with the characters, scenery, and stage properties for all four evenings. Severe snow flurries. In the evening the little ballet master departed, now setting out on his journey to Italy.
January 30, 1877	142	Bad weather keeps everyone indoors, but the narrator finds calm in working with the children and later reading Thucydides. At lunch Richard explains more of Parsifal, emphasizing recovery rather than questioning and reflecting on how difficult it is to create myth for a world that no longer understands it.	Tuesday, January 30: Still rough and at the same time dirty weather, no chance of going out, but a good and peaceful atmosphere in the house arising out of my work with the children. In the evening, Thucydides. At lunch R. told me that he had got over the worst in Parsifal; what is important is not the question, but the recovery of the spear. The scene between Kundry and the old man, Gurnemanz in the sketch, would describe the myth; the difficulty, R. says, is that one is now dealing with a world which has so little feeling for myth. R. also mentions that no one has expressed any delight in his device of allowing Wotan to appear in the figure of a wanderer. Herr Plüddemann’s pamphlet gives him great pleasure, as also Herr v. Wolzogen’s reply to the articles of the singing teacher.
January 31, 1877	198	News arrives that Unger may need to accept an engagement in Nürnberg, adding to worries about theater costs, while the day is darkened further by the death of Dean Dittmar, the narrator’s first and best friend there. Richard remains buoyant and creatively energized, and the evening reading offers a welcome escape from grief.	Wednesday, January 31: R. received a letter from Herr Unger, who says that probably he will now have to accept an engagement in Nürnberg! ... The upkeep of the theater is also costing a lot. Our good Dean Dittmar died this morning, my first and my best friend here! I do not tell R. the news at once. He is fairly well and in good spirits: “Once more you hover near me, forms and faces!” He recalls that it is 15 years since he last wrote a new text, Die Meistersinger in Paris; at that time there had been nothing to keep him alive but the creative urge, now it is I and the children who are keeping this creative urge alive. He tells me he is trying to turn the morning into the productive continuation of the dream; and that is why I do not tell him the dismal news until later. The task of revising my books keeps me from giving in to my thoughts. In the evening we read Thucydides; the blockade of Pylos brings us Aristophanes’s The Knights, a powerful diversion, complete forgetfulness, and an ideal world of cheerfulness. Siegfried is touching in his sympathy for me.
No diary entries found.