Thursday, December 30, 2010

Some Guys Just Look Gay

The pianist Glenn Gould, a lifelong bachelor, gave to many the impression of being homosexual. His life centered around his apartment in a large, low-rise apartment building near Avenue Road and St. Clair Avenue in Toronto and his recording studios. He was an habitué of a coffee shop called Fran's at Yonge and St. Clair. His life focused narrowly on his favorite piano and his radio and television performances. Most of his friends were recording people and technicians.



Glenn Gould lived a private life: Bruno Monsaingeon said of him, "No supreme pianist has ever given of his heart and mind so overwhelmingly while showing himself so sparingly."

In 2007, Cornelia Foss, wife of composer and conductor Lukas Foss, publicly claimed that she and Gould had had a love affair lasting several years.  She and her husband had met Gould in Los Angeles in 1956. Cornelia was an art instructor who had studied sculpture at the American Academy in Rome; Lukas was a pianist and composer who conducted both the Buffalo Philharmonic Orchestra and the Brooklyn Philharmonic.

After several years, Glenn and Cornelia became lovers. Cornelia left Lukas in 1967 for Gould, taking her two children with her to Toronto, where she purchased a house near Gould's apartment, at 110 St. Clair Avenue West. According to Cornelia, "There were a lot of misconceptions about Glenn, and it was partly because he was so very private. But I assure you, he was an extremely heterosexual man. Our relationship was, among other things, quite sexual." Their affair lasted until 1972, when she returned to Lukas.

As for me, I am extremely asexual.

Consequences of Repealing Don't Ask, Don't Tell

Significant Moments: Terrorism

Albert Rothenberg, M.D. first described or discovered a process he termed "homospatial thinking," which consists of actively conceiving two or more discrete entities occupying the same space, a conception leading to the articulation of new identities. Homospatial thinking has a salient role in the creative process in the following wide variety of fields: literature, the visual arts, music, science, and mathematics. This cognitive factor, along with "Janusian thinking," clarifies the nature of creative thinking as a highly adaptive and primarily nonregressive form of functioning.

There is a section of my book Significant Moments whose manifest content describes Richard Wagner's composition of his final opera, Parsifal, and the death of Wagner.  Superimposed on the text is the metaphor of the 9/11 terrorist attack and the Oklahoma City bombing by Timothy McVeigh.

http://dailstrug.blogspot.com/2009/11/significant-moments-how-was-i.html



From a staging of Wagner's Parsifal




Wednesday, December 29, 2010

The Odd Couple

An undated memory: I worked at the law firm of Akin, Gump, Strauss, Hauer & Feld as a paralegal from 1988-1991.  Two of the partners at the firm were individuals named Joel Cohn and Bruce Mendelsohn.  On one  occasion -- I don't remember when -- Cohn and Mendelsohn were talking in one of the elevator areas of the firm's office.  Cohn was doing all the talking and Mendelsohn was nodding his head.  Call me paranoid, but the interaction seemed staged -- staged for my benefit.  Why they would do that is not at all clear.  Both men seemed like actors doing an improv -- pretending to carry on a conversation.  Yea, it looked like they were in a real conversation over there!

I didn't pick up a good vibe from either individual.  On one occasion in late January 1991, Cohn asked me about my broken arm while I was getting coffee on the ninth floor.  I thought: "Why is he talking to me?  He never talks to me."  On Saturday April 6, 1991 Cohn and I were on the elevator and Cohn said, commenting on the unusually warm weather, "I'm melting."  I thought at that moment, "I wonder if that's a sexual double-entendre."  But hey, that's me.

Sunday, December 26, 2010

The Family Romance in Popular Culture

The family romance is a conscious fantasy, later repressed, in which a child imagines that his birth parents are not actual but adoptive parents, or that his birth was the outcome of maternal infidelity. Typically, the fantasy parents are of noble lineage, or at least of a higher social class than the real parents.

The family romance fantasy has several possible aims and sources: revenge against frustrating parents; rivalry with the parent of the same sex; separation from idealized parents by means of their transformation into fantasy parents; and the elimination of brothers and sisters for competitive or incestuous purposes.

Be that as it may.

Always Remember I Love You is a 1990 television film starring Patty Duke and Stephen Dorff. It tells the story of a teenage boy who, after finding out he was adopted, runs away from home to search for his biological family.

Shortly after Robert Mendham (played by Stephen Dorff) turns 16, he finds out from his parents (David Birney and Joan Van Ark) that he was not only adopted, but stolen from his childhood home (a fact ignored by his parents until that time). He then runs away from home to search for his biological parents and ends up in a small town in Ohio where, using the public library files, he tracks down his mother Ruth Monroe (Patty Duke) and father Earl (Richard Masur). He then manages to befriend his biological brother and get taken in as a runaway by them, while trying to find out where he belongs, all the while keeping his true identity from them.

In terms of the Family Romance the Mendhams represent the imagined, ideal parents of the fantasy, while the Monroes represent the child's real parents who are of lower social status.  Always Remember I Love You is a variation of the Family Romance in that the child leaves the noble parents to live with the parents of lower social status, then rejoins the ideal parents.

Robert's biological brother represents the imagined twin sibling who comfort's the child in his loneliness after he has annihilated his parents in fantasy.

The fantasy of having a twin sibling is oedipal in origin according to the psychoanalyst Dorothy Burlingham. As revenge against the parents who have not gratified the latency child's wishes, the child murders the parents in fantasy, but erects in substitution a fantasy of having a twin sibling who will comfort the child in his loneliness. The ensuing fantasy friendship between the twin siblings is full of adventure, challenge, conversation, struggles, learning, and more.















Our friends may have contacted Patty Duke in the year 1991.  Patty Duke is the former President of the Screen Actors Guild.  She suffers from bipolar disorder and was treated by Jay D. Amsterdam, M.D. in Philadelphia, as she writes in her autobiography, Call Me Anna.  I participated in an experimental drug study in the year 1978 at the University of Pennsylvania  that was conducted by Dr. Amsterdam, a psychiatrist and nationally-prominent psychopharmacologist.  Such is the devastating nature of my paranoia that delusions seem to have entered every part of my mental life.

Thursday, December 23, 2010

When I Die I'm Donating My Memory to Science

There is an ability called Hyperthymesia, also known as piking or hyperthymestic syndrome, a condition where the affected individual has a superior autobiographical memory.   As first described in a 2006 article entitled "A case of unusual autobiographical remembering," the two defining characteristics of hyperthymesia are "1) the person spends an abnormally large amount of time thinking about his or her personal past, and 2) the person has an extraordinary capacity to recall specific events from his or her personal past".

I don't have Hyperthmesia, but I do have an unusually good memory and I spend an abnormally large amount of time thinking about my personal past. 

I will think about an event from the past and associated fragments of experience will come to mind.  I liken the process to an archaeological dig in which fragments of objects are recovered.

This post is actually an extension of something I posted on this blog a few days ago: a report about a retaliatory memo my supervisor wrote about me in late October 1991 after I lodged a harassment complaint against her to senior managers at the law firm of Akin, Gump, Strauss, Hauer & Feld, where I worked as a paralegal from 1988-1991.

In the memo my supervisor said that she had placed me in a private office after I complained to her that coworkers had played pranks on me.  In fact, my supervisor did not place me in a private office prior to my move to the Terrace Level suite in early April 1991.

The chronology is as follows:

Late October 1989: I was placed in a large, group office on the ninth floor.

March 1990: I was transferred from the paralegal program to the firm's Litigation Support Group, but remained in the ninth floor group office.

April 8, 1991: I started working in the Terrace Level suite that housed Litigation Support.

Last night I was thinking about my move to the Terrace Level office in early April 1991 and the following memory fragments came to mind.

I remember that on Friday April 5, 1991 my supervisor called me into her office to tell me that she was moving me to the Terrace Level suite from the ninth floor office I had occupied since October 1989.  After my meeting with the supervisor, Malcolm Lassman, the Akin Gump attorney manager who reported to the firm's management committee about matters relating to paralegals, chaired a meeting of paralegals in the firm's fifth floor conference room.  He responded to rumors that the firm planned to lay off paralegals in response to the national economic recession.  He assured the paralegals that the firm had no plans to lay off any paralegals; he said that laying off employees (in any employee group) was a last resort for the firm.  I remember the paralegal Glenda Creasy (Walden), who seemed to be especially friendly with Legal Assistant Administrator Maggie Sinnott, was seated a few rows behind me at the meeting and was talking loudly about someone she called "paranoid."  At that moment I had an idea of reference.  I thought, "I think Glenda Creasy is trying to get me agitated."  By the way, that's an interesting feature of my superior memory.  I remember many trivial things from my past because I attach a self-referential meaning to events.  My paranoia is a mnemonic device for me.

I remember that on Saturday April 6, 1991 I went to the office to move my belongings from the ninth floor to the Terrace Level.  I didn't want to waste company time on moving.  I didn't bill the firm for my Saturday hours spent on the move.  I wanted to start work on Monday morning April 8th immediately at 9:00 AM.  I had done the same thing on Friday March 17, 1989 when Maggie Sinnott told me that I was being moved from a private office on the fifth floor to a group office.  Some time on the weekend of March 18, 1989 I went to the office to move my belongings so that I could start work immediately at 9:00 AM on Monday morning, March 20, 1989.  (You will recall that Dennis Race's birthday was Monday March 13, 1989; it was on that day that Doug Rosenfeld, Esq. started working at Akin Gump.  Dennis Race introduced Doug Rosenfeld to the firm at the All-Attorneys Dinner at the Westin Hotel on May 3, 1989.  But now I'm showing off!)

In any event, I can recall fragments from Saturday April 6, 1991.  I remember that the weather was unusually warm for early April.  I remember that because I can remember getting on the elevator that day with firm partner Joel Cohn (whose office was located on the ninth floor) who said to me about the heat: "I'm melting."  I remember that statement because I can recall having the paranoid idea: "I wonder if that's a sexual double entendre?" 

I also remember that on that Saturday April 6, 1991 the Metropolitan opera broadcast Wagner's opera Parsifal.  Met broadcasts of Parsifal usually start at 12:30 PM on Saturday afternoons, an early time because of the unusual length of the opera.  I remember I was listening to Act I of the opera on my Walkman radio as I was carrying out my move from the ninth floor office to the Terrace Level.  So we can say that I was in the office sometime between 12:30 and about 2:30.  (The first act of Parsifal is about two hours long.)  Maybe I am able to remember that Parsifal was broadcast that afternoon because I unconsciously drew a parallel between my subjective perception that my supervisor was covertly anti-Semitic and the fact that Wagner had subjected the conductor Hermann Levi (who conducted the premiere performance of Parsifal) to overt anti-Semitism.

Perhaps memory scientists would recognize something distinctive about my memory functioning based on these recollections.  Yes, I have done my part for science!

Telltale Evidence: A Remarkable Discrepancy

Creative people are said to be unusually sensitive to implicit messages contained in the communications of others. Their sensitivity results from their adaptation to a disturbed developmental environment in which there were often remarkable discrepancies between what family members said they felt and what they actually felt. Rothenberg, A. Creativity and Madness at 12 (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1990).

On about December 23, 1992 I received in the mail a copy of my former employer's response to an unlawful job termination complaint filed by the D.C. Department of Human Rights on February 4, 1992.  I had been terminated from my job as a paralegal at the law firm of Akin, Gump, Strauss, Hauer & Feld at about mid-day on October 29, 1991.  Dennis Race, the lawyer who fired me and who also wrote the employer's pleadings wrote in those pleadings that one of the reasons the firm had terminated my employment was that it had been advised by a consulting psychiatrist that persons with my "disorder" tend to become violent.  The firm feared, so it reported to the D.C. government, that I might pose a negligence risk.  I immediately knew that was a fabrication.  In fact, there was a remarkable discrepancy between, on the one hand,  Dennis Race's report to the D.C. Department of Human Rights in pleadings dated May 22, 1992 that alleged he feared I could become violent and, on the other, his actual behavior on the day he fired me.

At about 11:30 on the morning of Tuesday October 29, 1991, Dennis Race summoned me to his office.  I had been working temporarily on the fourth floor, the same floor where Mr. Race's office was located.  He came to my office and politely asked me to join him.  He advised me that the firm had decided to terminate my employment.  After he advised me of the termination (as I have previously reported)  "Mr. Race had me sift through two boxes of my personal effects in the presence of my supervisor in Mr. Race's office. The two boxes containing my personal effects had been housed in the terrace level of the building, and had presumably been brought up to the fourth floor and placed outside Mr. Race's office before he called me to his office to advise me of the decision to terminate."

After the meeting Mr. Race picked up one box, I picked up another, and we both walked back to my office around the corner on the fourth floor.  Mr. Race said to me: "You know I often pass by you during the day while walking down the hall (presumably to Malcolm Lassman's office) and I always see you busy at work."  I thought it was a tad odd that an employer would compliment my work habits after just having fired me.

But here's the crucial point.  I said to Mr. Race: "Let me tell you what I am going to do.  I am going to go home now.  I'm going to come back with a suitcase, fill the suitcase with all my junk, and take it home."  Mr. Race said that was fine.

You see the problem?  An employer has a good faith belief that an employee could become violent and he allows that employee to go home immediately after being fired so that the employee can return to the firm with a suitcase?  A suitcase?  Did Dennis Race not know what some potentially violent people with a grudge put in suitcases?

It was as if Dennis Race were simply acting.  He was playing the part of an employer who was terminating an employee for cause.  But his acting was subpar.  He had forgotten his lines.  "Gary, just leave now.  We'll pack up your personal items, and ship them to you.  We'll cover the cost of shipping.  Just leave now and don't bother to come back with a suitcase."  Those were the lines Dennis Race forgot for the show.

As for my supervisor telling her employees she feared I might come back to kill her -- well, that was obviously an independent frolic.  Senior management did not believe I was either potentially violent or homicidal.

Dean Claudio Grossman: "I'll Bet You Say That to All The Girls!"

Dear Gary,

Wishing you a happy birthday and a wonderful year.

Dean Claudio Grossman, 

The Office of Alumni Relations 
The International Legal Studies Program 
Washington College of Law 
202-274-4163 (Alumni Relations) 

Significant Moments: Seasonal Thoughts -- I'm Dreaming of a White Manuscript Page

Albert Rothenberg, M.D. first described or discovered a process he termed "homospatial thinking," which consists of actively conceiving two or more discrete entities occupying the same space, a conception leading to the articulation of new identities. Homospatial thinking has a salient role in the creative process in the following wide variety of fields: literature, the visual arts, music, science, and mathematics. This cognitive factor, along with "Janusian thinking," clarifies the nature of creative thinking as a highly adaptive and primarily nonregressive form of functioning.

A section of my book Significant Moments discusses the receipt by Richard and Cosima Wagner of a copy of a manuscript: the text of Friedrich Nietzsche's first book, The Birth of Tragedy.  This section describes a carriage ride by the Wagners through the snow.  The snow is actually a metaphor for blank manuscript pages.  Riding through the snow is a metaphor for the act of writing.  The phrase "Opening a path for yourself" refers simultaneously to the act of opening a book and the act of riding through newly fallen snow.  The phrase "the right path seems lost" refers to both the problem of "writer's block" and getting lost during a journey.  The lines from Robert Frost's poem "And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep." suggests symbolically the act of a writer working on a manuscript into the wee hours of the morning.  Compare GW's initial psychiatric assessment chart about me:  "Lately, he has been feeling very motivated. He has been writing his thoughts up to the wee hours of the morning and feels less need for sleep."

Arrival of Prof. Nietzsche's book.
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Wednesday, January 3, 1872).
I looked at it . . .
Jules Verne, A Journey to the Center of the Earth.
. . . turned over idly pages of . . .
James Joyce, Ulysses.
. . . it with curiosity . . .
Jules Verne, A Journey to the Center of the Earth.
It was eloquent, vibrating with eloquence, but too high-strung, I think.
Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness.
What of it, though?
Robert Frost, Excerpt from Lucretius Versus the Lake Poets.
On January 2, 1872, Nietzsche sent Wagner an . . .
Martin Gregor-Dellin, Richard Wagner: His Life, His Work, His Century.
. . . uncut . . .
Italo Calvino, If on a winter’s night a traveler.
. . . advance copy of his book, now entitled The Birth of Tragedy from the Spirit of Music, as a "token of goodwill and friendship." Many of the ideas to which Wagner had undoubtedly given livelier expression in conversation [with Nietzsche] than in his essays on art . . . recurred in an intensified and spiritualized form in Nietzsche's sublime prose.
Martin Gregor-Dellin, Richard Wagner: His Life, His Work, His Century.
Let's see how it begins.
Italo Calvino, If on a winter's night a traveler.
I suppose . . . I could paraphrase
Gilbert K. Chesterton, The Innocence of Father Brown.
No, no; wait!
Henry James, The Turn of the Screw.
“He . . . ”
Douglas R. Hofstadter and Daniel C. Dennett, The Mind’s I: Fantasies and Reflections on Self and Soul.
. . . can say in his own words, much better, what I as his ambassador in my enthusiasm might only hint at:
Siegfried Hessing, Prologue with Sinozana—Parallels via East and West.
It was in dreams, says Lucretius, that the glorious divine figures first appeared to the souls of men; in dreams the great shaper beheld the splendid bodies of superhuman beings; and the Hellenic poet, if questioned about the mysteries of poetic inspiration, would likewise have suggested dreams and he might have given an explanation like that of Hans Sachs in the Meistersinger . . .
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Birth of Tragedy.
“This is the book I have been longing for,” says R.—
Cosima Wagner’s Diaries (Saturday, January 6, 1872).
Opening a path for yourself, . . .
Italo Calvino, If on a winter's night a traveler.
. . . with a paper-knife . . .
Charles Dickens, Little Dorrit.
. . . in the barrier of . . .
Italo Calvino, If on a winter's night a traveler.
. . . strange pages of . . .
James Joyce, Ulysses.
. . . virgin manuscript . . .
V. Penelope Pelizzon, Human Field.
. . . becomes linked with the thoughts of how much the word contains and conceals: you cut your way through your reading as if through a dense forest.
Italo Calvino, If on a winter's night a traveler.
Where now?
James Joyce, Ulysses.
Drove into town, home with R., . . .
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Thursday, January 4, 1872).
. . . through . . .
Italo Calvino, If on a winter's night a traveler.
. . . fog, darkness, and snow, . . .
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Thursday, January 4, 1872).
We both felt . . .
Charles Dickens, Bleak House.
. . . dazed, contemplating that whiteness . . .
Italo Calvino, If on a winter's night a traveler.
. . . as if each of us were hypnotized . . .
R.D. Laing, The Politics of the Family.
. . . looking fixedly at . . .
Charles Dickens, Bleak House.
. . . blank manuscript pages . . .
Patrick Kavanaugh, The Spiritual Lives of the Great Composers.
I at last . . .
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Thursday, June 3, 1869).
. . . a blanket to my chin . . .
Robert Frost, Excerpt from An Unstamped Letter in Our Rural Letter Box.
. . . thought of the times when I lived here against all the rules like a dream figure, and when this landscape seemed so appropriate.
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Thursday, January 4, 1872).
Not till we are lost, in other words not till we have lost the world, do we begin to find ourselves, and realize where we are and the infinite extent of our relations.
Henry David Thoreau, Walden.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Robert Frost, Excerpt from Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening.
What does it mean? Why this:
Morris Bishop, Petrarch.
In the middle of the journey . . .
Leonard Garment, Crazy Rhythm.
. . . in long winter nights . . .
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
. . . we find ourselves in dark woods where the right path seems lost. But even so melancholy a poet saw for a prophetic moment that at the end of the confusion . . .
Leonard Garment, Crazy Rhythm.
. . . in the rosy light of morning . . .
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
. . . there is sometimes a clearing in whose sunlight things appear more distinct and precious than ever before.
Leonard Garment, Crazy Rhythm.
Can you conceive what new and vital power I draw from living in the wilderness?
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust.
Returning home . . .
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Wednesday, March 6, 1872).
. . . I felt as if I had come out of a bleak, harsh woods into a cozy lair.
Janet Malcolm, Psychoanalysis: The Impossible Profession.
—In the evening read more of Nietzsche's book, which gives R. ever-increasing satisfaction, but we wonder where the public for it will be found.
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Thursday, January 4, 1872).
On my way upstairs to bed I stopped to . . .
Josh Short, The Workers All Call Daddy Cap’n.
. . . sit on my spiral staircase and reflect, reflect, until the mildness of my thoughts lulls and calms me; and then from downstairs I hear music:
Cosima Wagner’s Diaries (Tuesday, September 30, 1879).
I was lost, so to speak, in the milky way.
James Joyce, Ulysses.
Only within. Inside the brain
Robert Frost, Excerpt from An Unstamped Letter in Our Rural Letter Box.
An indescribable impression—
Cosima Wagner’s Diaries (Tuesday, July 8, 1879).
All my senses now want to sink into slumber.
Hermann Hesse, Excerpt from Going to Sleep (Poem set to music by Richard Strauss).
Winter’s revenant invites you into it, and there you lie while the bleached sheet . . .
V. Penelope Pelizzon, Human Field.
. . . of snow accumulating . . .
Kelly and Rich Willis, Glass Ceiling: trekkers battle frostbite, storms and exhaustion in their quest to reach the peak of Mount Kilimanjaro.
. . . just beyond the window pane . . .
Angel Xuan Chang, A Ghost Outside My Window.
. . . translates you to an angel in a solitary bed.
V. Penelope Pelizzon, Human Field.
In the meantime Richard comes up and shows me . . .
Cosima Wagner’s Diaries (Wednesday, January 20, 1869).
. . . a really beautiful letter, a poem in itself, . . .
James Joyce, Ulysses.
. . . which he has written to . . .
Cosima Wagner’s Diaries (Friday, October 27, 1876).
. . . the professor . . .
James Joyce, Ulysses.
. . . telling him what he thinks of the book and its author.
Cosima Wagner’s Diaries (Thursday, January 18, 1872).

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

GW Psychiatric Assessment 1992: That's What She Said!

In September 1992 I underwent a psychiatric assessment at the George Washington University Medical Center. The assessment was performed by a third-year psychiatry resident  named Napoleon Cuenco, M.D.  Dr. Cuenco diagnosed me with bipolar disorder with the mood congruent psychotic features of pressured, rapid speech; loose associations; and flight of ideas.

First off, the diagnosis itself was incorrect.  I did not then, nor have I ever suffered from bi-polar disorder.  The seeming presence of the above psychotic features may have resulted from a mislabeling by Dr. Cuenco of characteristics of creative persons, which might include verbal fluency, a capacity for remote associations, and the ability to extend effort in idea production.  See Guilford, J.P. The Nature of Intelligence (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1967); Mednick, S.A. "The Associative Basis of the Creative Process." Psychological Review 69: 220-232 (1962); Parnes, S.J. "Research on Developing Creative Behavior." In: Widening Horizons in Creativity. Edited by C.W. Taylor. (New York: John Wiley & Sons, 1964).

In addition, many  factual assertions contained in the assessment chart are gross distortions.

I suspect if you were to ask Dr. Cuenco how he could have come up with such a distorted view of me he would respond: "I simply wrote what Mr. Freedman told me.  I recorded and summarized Mr. Freedman's own statements."  Well, oddly enough, that's what she said!

The she in this case is the journalist Janet Malcolm.

Janet Malcolm is an author and a contributor to The New Yorker, a weekly magazine. She contacted the psychoanalyst Jeffrey Masson in 1982 regarding the possibility of an article on his relationship with the Sigmund Freud Archives -- and with Archives Directors Kurt Eissler, M.D. and Anna Freud. Masson agreed, and Jeffrey Masson and Janet Malcolm met in person and spoke by telephone in a series of interviews. Based on the interviews and other sources, Malcolm wrote a lengthy article. One of Malcolm's narrative devices consists of enclosing lengthy passages in quotation marks, reporting statements of Masson, Eissler, and her other subjects.

During the editorial process, Nancy Franklin, a member of the fact-checking department at The New Yorker, called Masson to confirm some of the facts underlying the article. According to Masson, he expressed alarm at the number of errors in the few passages Franklin discussed with him. Masson contends that he asked permission to review those portions of the article which attributed quotations or information to him, but was brushed off with a never-fulfilled promise to "get back to [him]."

The New Yorker published Malcolm's piece in December 1983, as a two-part series. In 1984, with knowledge of at least Masson's general allegation that the article contained defamatory material, the publisher Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., published the entire work as a book, entitled In the Freud Archives.

Malcolm's work received complimentary reviews. But this gave little joy to Masson, for the book portrays him in a most unflattering light. According to one reviewer, the psychiatrist Robert Coles, M.D. (who was a personal friend of Anna Freud's, by the way),

"Masson the promising psychoanalytic scholar emerges gradually, as a grandiose egotist -- mean-spirited, self-serving, full of braggadocio, impossibly arrogant and, in the end, a self-destructive fool. But it is not Janet Malcolm who calls him such: his own words reveal this psychological profile -- a self-portrait offered to us through the efforts of an observer and listener who is, surely, as wise as any in the psychoanalytic profession."

Jeffrey Masson wrote a letter to the New York Times Book Review calling the book "distorted." In response, Malcolm stated:

"Many of [the] things Mr. Masson told me (on tape) were discreditable to him, and I felt it best not to include them. Everything I do quote Mr. Masson as saying was said by him, almost word for word. (The 'almost' refers to changes made for the sake of correct syntax.) I would be glad to play the tapes of my conversation with Mr. Masson to the editors of The Book Review whenever they have 40 or 50 short hours to spare."  In effect, she said "I simply wrote what he told me."

Eventually, Jeffrey Masson sued Janet Malcolm and The New Yorker for defamation and the rest is history: a seemingly interminable exercise in litigatory warped passages styled Masson v. New Yorker Magazine, Inc. that ultimately wound its tortuous path to the U.S. Supreme Court, 501 U.S. 496 (1991).

Be that as it may.

The narrative summary of the statements of a person who is interviewed will always evidence the distortions of the interviewer.  First, the interviewer can control the content of what the interviewee says by the questions he chooses to ask.  I suppose there is no better example than what happens in the courtroom.  A witness examined by Attorney "A"  will tell one tale, while Attorney "B" on cross-examination of the same witness may extract a radically different version of events.  The interviewer can elicit -- by choice of questions asked -- what he likes from the interviewee.

Second, the interviewer can filter what the interviewee says.  The interviewer can pick and choose his subject's words and statements; in the end, only a fragment of what the subject actually says in the interview will make its way to a narrative summary.  I had a law professor named Claudio Grossman, now Dean of the School of Law at American University.  He used to say, "What you say is true, but it is not the truth."  That is an apt description of what happens when an interviewer filters his subject's statements to create an overall impression that does not match the gist of the subject's responses.

Third, in a psychiatric assessment, the psychiatrist can ask leading questions.  A good example of leading by Dr. Cuenco is the following.  Dr. Cuenco asked me, "Do you have racing thoughts?"  I said, "What are racing thoughts?"  He said, "Do you think of a lot of ideas at once."  I said, "yes."  He concluded I had racing thoughts, which is symptomatic of mania.  You will note that researchers in creativity maintain that a creative person can hold many ideas in his mind at once (a sign of ego strength, not ego weakness), which accounts for his ability to make a richer synthesis of ideas.  An example of creative thinking that allows a person to hold several ideas in his mind at once is "homospatial thinking," a term coined by Albert Rothenberg, M.D.

Did Dr. Cuenco simply write what I told him?  The answer is a qualified yes.  The question is -- what is it that he didn't ask?  What is it that he didn't elicit?  Also, what did I tell him that he didn't include in the written assessment?

You will also note that The Caliban Complex, a self-analysis I wrote without the intervention of an interviewer, presents a totally different picture of me than Dr. Cuenco's assessment chart.  I had provided a copy of that writing to Dr. Cuenco who acknowledged that he had read it.  GW's assessment chart states that my insight was poor, a conclusion that allowed Dr. Cuenco to ignore my self-report and substitute his faulty clinical observations.

Significant Moments: That's What She Said!

Albert Rothenberg, M.D. first described or discovered a process he termed "homospatial thinking," which consists of actively conceiving two or more discrete entities occupying the same space, a conception leading to the articulation of new identities. Homospatial thinking has a salient role in the creative process in the following wide variety of fields: literature, the visual arts, music, science, and mathematics. This cognitive factor, along with "Janusian thinking," clarifies the nature of creative thinking as a highly adaptive and primarily nonregressive form of functioning.

My book Significant Moments includes a section in which the psychoanalyst Jeffrey Masson and the philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche serve as metaphors for each other.  Masson claimed that he had been defamed by a magazine writer.  Nietzsche claimed that book reviewers distorted his writings.  I have claimed that the George Washington University's psychiatric assessment of me from 1992 presents a distorted impression of my personality problems.

That I feel no curiosity at all about reviews of my books, especially in newspapers, should be forgiven me. My friends and my publishers know this and do not speak to me about such things. In one particular case I once did get to see all the sins that had been committed against one of my books—it was . . .
Friedrich Nietzsche, Ecce Homo.
. . . The Assault on Truth: Freud's Suppression of the Seduction Theory . . .
Leonard Shengold, Soul Murder.
. . . published in 1984—a truly Orwellian irony.
Giles Hugo, Can You Grok Cyberia?
The Assault was . . .
J. Moussaieff Masson, Final Analysis.
. . . a book whose principal aim was to revive Freud's seduction theory, . . .
John Forrester, Dispatches from The Freud Wars: Psychoanalysis and Its Passions.
. . . which ascribed . . .
Herman Melville, Typee: A Romance.
.
 . . neurosis in . . .
J. Moussaieff Masson, ‘Assault on Truth’ — Letter to the Editor, N.Y. Review of Books (August 16, 1984).
. . . adults to . . .
Edgar Rice Burroughs, A Princess to Mars.
. . . seductions in childhood . . .
J. Moussaieff Masson, ‘Assault on Truth’ — Letter to the Editor, N.Y. Review of Books (August 16, 1984).
. . . by reasserting the truth—that is, the absolute trustworthiness—of Freud's early patients. Masson accused Freud of scientific cowardice, in that he claimed Freud rejected his own evidence that his patients had been abused in childhood . . .
John Forrester, Dispatches from The Freud Wars: Psychoanalysis and Its Passions.
. . . evidence that amounted to no more than . . .
Supreme Court of Canada, Her Majesty the Queen v. Alexander Nikolovski.
. . . narratives really . . .
Michael Gleghorn, Was Jesus Really Born of a Virgin?
. . . narratives, moreover, . . .
Lawrence Warner, Genesis the Giant: The City, the Wanderer, and the Sodomite in Late-Medieval Narrative.
. . . that 'bristled with ambiguities,' . . .
U.S. Supreme Court, Masson v. New Yorker Magazine, Inc., et al.
. . . in favor of the view that his patients, and therefore the analyst, had no sure way of knowing whether the events they remembered had actually taken place or not.
John Forrester, Dispatches from The Freud Wars: Psychoanalysis and Its Passions.
I could make a pretty report about . . .
Friedrich Nietzsche, Ecce Homo.
. . . some of the reviews.
K.R. Eissler, Talent and Genius.
Would you believe it?
Friedrich Nietzsche, Ecce Homo.
According to one reviewer, "Masson the promising psychoanalytic scholar emerges gradually, as a grandiose egotist—
U.S. Supreme Court, Masson v. New Yorker Magazine, Inc., et al. quoting Robert Coles, M.D., Freudianism Confronts Its Malcontents (Boston Globe).
“a man swollen with vanity and presumption”
Ernest Newman, The Life of Richard Wagner quoting a correspondent from the Berlin Nationalzeitung.
—mean-spirited, self-serving, full of braggadocio, impossibly arrogant and, in the end, a self-destructive fool. . . ."
U.S. Supreme Court, Masson v. New Yorker Magazine, Inc., et al. quoting Robert Coles, M.D., Freudianism Confronts Its Malcontents (Boston Globe).
So this is what comes from the lying newspaper reports!
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Monday, June 18, 1877).
Having a talent is not enough: one requires your permission for it—right, my friends?
Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil.
Believe’t, . . .
William Shakespeare, Antony and Cleopatra.
. . . one writing . . .
Amy Lowell, Men, Women and Ghosts.
. . . was full of the most . . .
Edith Nesbit, The Story of the Treasure Seekers.
. . . unconscionable breaches of basic rules of quoting, culminating at least once in . . .
K.R. Eissler, Talent and Genius (1971).
. . . the author . . .
Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Devil in Manuscript.
. . . "quoting" the very opposite of what . . .
K.R. Eissler, Talent and Genius (1971).
. . . the subject . . .
Wilkie Collins, The Evil Genius.
. . . had actually said . . .
K.R. Eissler, Talent and Genius (1971).
. . . so as to give the impression that I had said some such thing, . . .
Cosima Wagner’s Diaries (Thursday, July 9, 1874).
—I know not what—
George Gordon, Lord Byron, Don Juan.
. . . thereby offending . . .
Cosima Wagner’s Diaries (Thursday, July 9, 1874).
. . . the whole psychoanalytic establishment
Janet Malcolm, In The Freud Archives.
Very pitiful stuff—
Cosima Wagner’s Diaries (Thursday, July 9, 1874).
In general, quotation marks around a passage indicate to the reader that the passage reproduced the speaker's words verbatim. They inform the reader that he or she is reading the statement of the speaker, not a paraphrase or other indirect interpretation by an author. By providing this information, quotations add authority to the statement and credibility to the author's work . . .
U.S. Supreme Court, Masson v. New Yorker Magazine, Inc., et al. (1991).
. . . by means of . . .
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Birth of Tragedy.
. . . what I would like to call "the charisma of the quotation mark."
K.R. Eissler, Talent and Genius (1971).
I can see now how impossible it is for a person to remain decent when he happens to be a journalist.
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Thursday, September 30, 1869).
There is honor even among thieves, as a man from whom I had expected a particularly dastardly transgression assured me. The reader who is not expert is at the mercy of . . .
K.R. Eissler, Talent and Genius (1971).
. . . the Reviewer . . .
Charles Darwin, The Origin of Species.
.
 . . when the latter puts a sentence into quotation marks. Honor requires a maximal scrupulousness: once the reader cannot rely on quotations, the whole transaction is bound to go into bankruptcy.
K.R. Eissler, Talent and Genius (1971).
I ask you:
Lucretius, De Rerum Natura.
What crime of doubt could be greater than that which would rob you of credence?
Richard Wagner, Lohengrin.
His reputation had . . .
William Faulkner, Light in August (Chapter 11).
. . . been shattered by . . .
Henry Miller, Man In The Zoo: George Grosz’ Ecce Homo.
.
 . . psychoanalytic character assassination.
E. James Lieberman, Acts of Will.
He was . . .
William Faulkner, Light in August (Chapter 11).
. . .demeaned in public and private, in plain words and in jargon, in professional and lay circles. . .
E. James Lieberman, Acts of Will.
. . . and his opinions were . . .
William Faulkner, Light in August (Chapter 11).
. . . received with . . .
Jack London, The Sea Wolf.
. . . contempt, ridicule or obloquy.
U.S. Supreme Court, Masson v. New Yorker Magazine, Inc., et al. (1991).
What did I have to say to that?
J. Moussaieff Masson, Final Analysis.
"I'll tell you this. . . ."
Merle Miller, Plain Speaking: An Oral Biography of Harry S. Truman.
Put bluntly, . . .
Douglas R. Hofstadter and Daniel C. Dennett, The Mind's I: Fantasies and Reflections on Self and Soul.
"They can all go to Hell."
J. Moussaieff Masson, Freud and the Seduction Theory quoting Sigmund Freud, Letter to Wilhelm Fliess.
Period. End quote.
U.S. House of Representatives, Hearings of the Committee on Veterans' Affairs.
With these words, he . . .
Charles Dickens, The Schoolboy’s Story.
. . . expressed what is essential in his story.
Dan Levin, Spinoza.
He had conceived his . . .
Peter Gay, Freud: A Life for Our Time.
. . . Assault . . .
J. Moussaieff Masson, Final Analysis.
. . . in defiance, written it in defiance, and published it in defiance. This was the stance he thought proper to a discoverer at odds all his life with the "compact majority."
Peter Gay, Freud: A Life for Our Time.
One day my name will be associated with the memory of something tremendous—a crisis without equal on earth, the most profound collision of conscience, a decision that was conjured against everything that had been believed, demanded, hallowed so far. I am no man, I am dynamite.—
Friedrich Nietzsche, Ecce Homo.
" . . . a great scholar, a major analyst—"
U.S. Supreme Court, Masson v. New Yorker Magazine, Inc., et al. (1991) quoting Janet Malcolm, In the Freud Archives.
Oh yes!
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
. . . a great scholar . . .
Friedrich Nietzsche, Twilight of the Idols.
But note . . .
Franz Kafka, The Trial.
In the end, to be sure—
Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil.
"It's got nothing to do with me. It's got to do with the things I discovered."
Janet Malcolm, In the Freud Archives.
I was the first to discover the truth by being the first to experience lies as lies—
Friedrich Nietzsche, Ecce Homo.
. . . carefully constructed lies, . . .
George Orwell, 1984.
. . . smelling them out.—My genius is in my nostrils.
Friedrich Nietzsche, Ecce Homo.
I found the temptation of making my withheld knowledge accessible to the world irresistible . . .
Sigmund Freud, Moses and Monotheism.
But my truth is terrible; for so far one has called lies truth.
Friedrich Nietzsche, Ecce Homo.
____________________________________________

http://dailstrug.blogspot.com/2010/12/gw-psychiatric-assessment-1992-thats_22.html

Significant Moments: Metaphors

Albert Rothenberg, M.D. first described or discovered a process he termed "homospatial thinking," which consists of actively conceiving two or more discrete entities occupying the same space, a conception leading to the articulation of new identities. Homospatial thinking has a salient role in the creative process in the following wide variety of fields: literature, the visual arts, music, science, and mathematics. This cognitive factor, along with "Janusian thinking," clarifies the nature of creative thinking as a highly adaptive and primarily nonregressive form of functioning.

My book Significant Moments is teaming with metaphors.  The text of the book, in fact, refers to the use of metaphors as a means of expression.

Freud protested that it . . .
Peter Gay, Freud: A Life for Our Time. 
. . . is not the literal past that rules us, save, possibly, in a biological sense. It is images of the past. These are often as highly structured and selective as myths.
George Steiner, In Bluebeard's Castle. 
If I understand anything of this great . . .
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Anti-Christ. 
. . . poet of Sublime agon, . . .
Harold Bloom, Wrestling Sigmund: Three Paradigms for Poetic Originality. 
. . . anything of this great symbolist it is that he took for realities, for 'truths', only inner realities—that he understood the rest, everything pertaining to nature, time, space, history, only as signs, as occasions for metaphor.
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Anti-Christ. 

The conceptual demarcation between an experiential world that is related, on the one hand, to an inner life and, on the other, to the impingement of reality, and the implicit theoretical differentiation between the specific influences derived from these two worlds of experience upon the causation of psychic illness, ushered in the twentieth century. This demarcation was epitomized by Freud's mounting concentration on the . . . 
Peter Blos, Freud and the Father Complex. 

. . . inner world of fantasy . . . 
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Birth of Tragedy. 

. . . namely, on his dream research which followed the death of his father. . . .
He thus succeeded in gaining access to the carefully guarded secrets and mysterious workings of the human mind. 
Peter Blos, Freud and the Father Complex. 

________________________________

Near the end of the book, I offer the following quotations:

Man lives by metaphor; his mind is . . .
Leonard Shengold, Soul Murder: The Effects of Childhood Abuse and Deprivation. 
. . . a poetry-making organ . . .
Lionel Trilling, Freud and Literature. 
. . . and a myth-making and a history-making organ.
Leonard Shengold, Soul Murder: The Effects of Childhood Abuse and Deprivation. 
We were all mythmaking creatures, it seemed, who created not only art but lives no less fictional, no less willed into existence, if only we knew it.
Arthur Miller, Timebends. 
We weave our memories into narrative, from which we construct our identities, despite our faulty registration of what goes on around and within us.  What goes on within and without our minds may be ultimately unknowable; yet sanity and survival depend on comparatively accurate registration of the outer and inner worlds.  However relativistic and inadequate our senses and memory, there is a reality out there and there are absolutes.  There was a past, however imperfectly we have registered it and however impossible it is for us to communicate it or recapture it completely.  This contradictory dilemma is part of the human condition.  Each human being spins a personal narrative, and yet we bear the burden of the inexorability of the past, or as the Arabs say of “what is written.”
Leonard Shengold, Soul Murder: The Effects of Childhood Abuse and Deprivation. 

http://dailstrug.blogspot.com/2010/12/significant-moments-state-dinner.html

http://dailstrug.blogspot.com/2010/12/significant-moments-chemistry-of-human.html

http://dailstrug.blogspot.com/2010/12/significant-moments-he-was-always-so.html

http://dailstrug.blogspot.com/2007/02/festival.html

http://dailstrug.blogspot.com/2010/09/significant-moments-homospatial.html

http://dailstrug.blogspot.com/2009/11/significant-moments-how-was-i.html

http://dailstrug.blogspot.com/2010/09/significant-moments-homospatiality-on.html

http://dailstrug.blogspot.com/2010/08/homospatiality-on-beach.html

http://dailstrug.blogspot.com/2010/08/creativity-example-of-homospatial.html

http://dailstrug.blogspot.com/2010/08/homospatial-thinking-and-significant_30.html

http://dailstrug.blogspot.com/2010/08/homospatial-thinking-and-significant.html

http://dailstrug.blogspot.com/2010/12/gw-psychiatric-assessment-1992-thats.html

http://dailstrug.blogspot.com/2010/12/significant-moments-seasonal-thoughts.html

http://dailstrug.blogspot.com/2010/12/significant-moments-terrorism.html

http://dailstrug.blogspot.com/2007/02/fugitive.html

http://dailstrug.blogspot.com/2011/01/significant-moments-speaking-of-life-in.html

http://dailstrug.blogspot.com/2011/01/significant-moments-colonialism-as.html

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Significant Moments: The State Dinner

Albert Rothenberg, M.D. first described or discovered a process he termed "homospatial thinking," which consists of actively conceiving two or more discrete entities occupying the same space, a conception leading to the articulation of new identities. Homospatial thinking has a salient role in the creative process in the following wide variety of fields: literature, the visual arts, music, science, and mathematics. This cognitive factor, along with "Janusian thinking," clarifies the nature of creative thinking as a highly adaptive and primarily nonregressive form of functioning.

There is a section of my book Significant Moments that describes an imaginary dinner party at the home of the composer Richard Wagner and his wife, Cosima.  Superimposed on that text is the metaphor of the Presidential State Dinner. 


The metaphor of the State Dinner is actually a grand elaboration of a single reference early in the book Significant Moments, a section of the book that discusses Daniel Ellsberg and President Richard Nixon.  The metaphor of the State Dinner is derived from a phrase from the Jane Austen novel, Emma (see below, highlighted in yellow).

Incidentally, the Wagners actually met President Ulysses S. Grant and his wife in 1877.  Both couples were staying at the same hotel in London.  Cosima records in her diary with exasperation: "Neither of them speaks either French or German!"  Wagner's only English comprised words and phrases he needed to conduct an orchestra.

In the 1990s Pubic Television broadcast a series of BBC programs in the Great Composers series. One show was devoted to the life and work of Richard Wagner. The documentary included commentary by various experts including Barry Millington, Penn State professor Paul Lawrence Rose, and the conductor Roger Norrington. Norrington compared Wagner's personality to that of a head of state -- or the president of an airline, such as Eastern Airlines' Frank Lorenzo. Norrington said: "I find it very difficult to see the man sitting down writing music. I can see him running a country or at least an airline. Or probably owning a few. But I can't see him writing music."
________________________

Partly to protect the president from knowing too much about wet work and other sordid business, to provide him with plausible deniability . . .
Robert Ludlum, The Prometheus Deception.
. . . in the face of . . .
Henry James, In the Cage.
. . . the powers and limitations . . .
Oliver Wendell Holmes, The Guardian Angel.
. . . inherent in the constitution . . .
Karen Horney, New Ways in Psychoanalysis.
. . . that is, . . .
Henry James, In the Cage.
. . . the restrictions . . .
Somerset Maugham, Of Human Bondage.
. . . inherent in the office.
Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein, The Final Days.
That’s standard operating procedure in intelligence outfits worldwide. And partly, I’m sure, because the president is considered by the permanent intelligence community to be a mere tenant of the White House. A renter. He moves in for four years, maybe eight if he’s lucky, buys new china, redecorates, hires and fires, gives a bunch of speeches, . . .
Robert Ludlum, The Prometheus Deception.
. . . and large dinner-parties, . . .
Jane Austen, Emma.
.
 . . and then he’s gone. Whereas the spies remain. They’re the permanent Washington, the true inheritors.”
Robert Ludlum, The Prometheus Deception.
It . . .
Sigmund Freud, The Ego and the Id.
.
 . . is very difficult for Americans—who are, on the whole, accustomed to open and direct dealing—to give full weight to this . . .
Raymond A. Bauer, Alex Inkeles, & Clyde Kluckhohn, How the Soviet System Works.
. . . principle of preservation . . .
Charles Darwin, Origin of Species.
.
 . . as I call it.
Anthony Trollope, The Last Chronicle of Barset.
Perhaps only those who have had fairly intimate and sustained contact with . . .
Raymond A. Bauer, Alex Inkeles, & Clyde Kluckhohn, How the Soviet System Works.
. . . the underground ways . . .
Richard Wagner, ‘The Capitulation’ (sketch for a planned farce).
. . . of secret intelligence . . .
Edith Wharton, The Reef.
. . . have a picture that approaches imaginative reality. The deviousness of behavior, the disposition to “read between the lines” and to interpret the acts of others at several different levels, the whole system of wheels within wheels—all of this is so foreign to American experience and psychology that it is all too easy to laugh it off as “E. Phillips Oppenheim stuff.”
Raymond A. Bauer, Alex Inkeles, & Clyde Kluckhohn, How the Soviet System Works.
________________________________

20 May 2009

Dear Mr Freedman,

Thank you for putting me onto your ingenious piece. It's quite an assemblage! It's a problem publishing things, but perhaps the NY Wagner Society has a website which can post it or at least link to it.
Best wishes

Paul Lawrence Rose
Professor of History
The Pennsylvania State University

[I earned a B.A. at Penn State in May 1975.]

Dear Mr Freedman

Many thanks for sending me The Dinner Party, which I enjoyed very much indeed. It is highly original (as far as I know) and very cleverly put together. I'm sorry to say that it's not quite right for us, however, and I hope you will be able to get it published elsewhere.

with all good wishes

Barry Millington
Editor, The Wagner Journal
Saturday, September 1, 2007



. . . like everyone else, only more so.
George Devereux, Normal and Abnormal.
This phrase startled me.
Irvin D. Yalom, Love’s Executioner.
All of a sudden I thought of something. . . . I suddenly remembered. . .
J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye.
I have been to—guess whom?—to the master, Richard Wagner!
Hugo Wolf, Letter to His Parents.
Ah, what a day for me, dear gods!
Homer, The Odyssey.
Oh, you should have been there!
But how could you have been?
Charles Kuralt, Horowitz in Moscow.
Very well.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust.
I will tell you all about it just as it happened. I will copy the words down exactly as I wrote them in my notebook.
Hugo Wolf, Letter to His Parents.
Now to my task.—
George Gordon, Lord Byron, Manfred.
I arrived at the right hour but . . .
Hugo Wolf, Letter to His Parents.
He made us wait. That is probably the way to put it. He heightened the suspense by his delay in appearing.
Thomas Mann, Mario and the Magician.
'Where's-------?' said I, naming our host.
H.G. Wells, The Time Machine.
It was half-past six o'clock and the hands were quietly moving on, it was even past the half-hour, it was getting on toward a quarter to seven.
Franz Kafka, The Metamorphosis.
Wagner’s . . .
Rexford G. Tugwell, The Democratic Roosevelt.
. . . practice, on such occasions, of making dramatic entrances at . . .
Edmund Morris, The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt.
. . . well past . . .
H.G. Wells, The Door in the Wall.
. . . the appointed hour, and regally offering his arm to the lady who will sit at his right, looks suspiciously like imperial pomp.
Edmund Morris, The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt.
Wagner himself, . . .
Sheldon M. Novick, Henry James: The Young Master.
. . .says Henry James, “is distinctly tending—or trying—to make a court.”
Edmund Morris, The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt.
Wagner . . .
Sheldon M. Novick, Henry James: The Young Master.
. . . scoffs cheerfully at such gibes. “They even say I want to be a prince myself! Not I! I’ve seen too many of them!”
Edmund Morris, The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt.
At last Wagner appeared in company with Cosima and Goldmark . . .
Hugo Wolf, Letter to His Parents.
. . . Goldmark . . .
Harold C. Schonberg, The Lives of the Great Composers.
He was clearly Jewish, with a wrinkled, sad face. The eyes seemed to say, "I have seen it all. You can't shock me, you can't even annoy me."
J. Moussaieff Masson, Final Analysis.
I bowed to Cosima very respectfully, but she evidently did not think it worth while to honor me with a single glance.
Hugo Wolf, Letter to His Parents.
He had known Frau Cosima Wagner since his visit to Bayreuth, and now he was . . .
Sheldon M. Novick, Henry James: The Young Master.
. . . to be . . .
William Shakespeare, Hamlet.
. . . introduced to the composer himself, a vigorous and powerful man of sixty-six years.

The composer presided over a large and complex enterprise, more like an imperial court than an ordinary household. There was Cosima, . . .
Sheldon M. Novick, Henry James: The Young Master.
. . . once called . . .
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust (Part II).
. . . the Baroness, . . .
Honore de Balzac, Cousin Bette.
. . . herself a regal figure, the daughter of Franz Liszt and his mistress, the countess d’Agoult. Cosima was the ruler and manager of the household. There were five children—three of whom Wagner had fathered while Cosima was still married to her first husband, . . .
Sheldon M. Novick, Henry James: The Young Master.
. . . the Baron . . .
Honore de Balzac, Cousin Bette.
. . . Hans von Bulow. There was a nurse, an English governess, and a tutor for the children.
Sheldon M. Novick, Henry James: The Young Master.
The guests stand about the room in groups or round the table at the window or are seated in a circle by the fireplace.
Thomas Mann, Disorder and Early Sorrow.
Neither then nor later was I at the heart of things, but I did experience firsthand the workings of charisma. I . . .
Charles B. Strozier, Heinz Kohut: The Making of a Psychoanalyst.
. . . sat there a good while: there was a great deal of talk; it was all very friendly and lively and jolly.
Henry James, An International Episode.
As he sat there he . . .
Joseph Conrad, Nostromo.
. . . found in the world without as actual what was in his world within as possible.
James Joyce, Ulysses.
Do you understand? I—
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Case of Wagner.
I fancied that . . .
H.G. Wells, The Time Machine.
. . . the actual things . . .
U.S. District Court (Southern District of New York), U.S. v. One Book Called “Ulysses.”
. . . about me . . .
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust.
. . . passed through my mind like the fragments in a kaleidoscope . . .
Eleanor Roosevelt, This I Remember.
. . . while, simultaneously . . .
Henry James, A Round of Visits.
. . . in a penumbral zone . . .
U.S. District Court (Southern District of New York), U.S. v. One Book Called “Ulysses.”
. . . I experienced . . .
Friedrich Nietzsche, Ecce Homo.
. . . residua of past impressions, some recent and some drawn up by association from the domain of the subconscious.
U.S. District Court (Southern District of New York), U.S. v. One Book Called “Ulysses.”
Cosima was a woman of beauty and intelligence; Wagner himself, . . .
Sheldon M. Novick, Henry James: The Young Master.
I can describe him to you if you care to hear it:
Homer, The Odyssey.
Wagner, . . .
Martin Gregor-Dellin, Wagner: His Life, His Work, His Century.
. . . aside from being (as . . .
Sheldon M. Novick, Henry James: The Young Master.
. . . Henry James . . .
Charles B. Strozier, Heinz Kohut: The Making of a Psychoanalyst.
. . . a young American . . .
Henry James, An International Episode.
. . . noted a little irritably), a fount of wisdom, was a man of immense personal charm.
Sheldon M. Novick, Henry James: The Young Master.
I’ve heard it said . . .
Richard Wagner, Gotterdammerung.
. . . that Wagner, . . .
Martin Gregor-Dellin, Wagner: His Life, His Work, His Century.
. . . an autodidact with a ferocious literary appetite, . . .
Peter J. Boyer, The Jesus War: Mel Gibson’s Obsession.
. . . was always at his best in small select companies of this kind, where he could . . .
Ernest Newman, The Life of Richard Wagner.
. . . play the professor . . .
Thomas Mann, Disorder and Early Sorrow.
. . . do most of the talking and was listened to with respectful admiration, free from interruption by pestilent people, such as . . .
Ernest Newman, The Life of Richard Wagner.
. . . the academicians . . .
TIME, Lyndon B. Johnson: The Paradox of Power.
. . . and cynical commentators . . .
Rexford G. Tugwell, The Democratic Roosevelt.
. . . of this wicked world, who presumptuously advanced opinions of their own instead of humbly taking down the tables of the law as they came straight from Sinai.
Ernest Newman, The Life of Richard Wagner.
He was obviously, I believe, hiding the weaknesses in his nature, covering the areas which were most vulnerable to hurt, concealing . . .
Rexford G. Tugwell, The Democratic Roosevelt.
. . . above all . . .
David C. Large, “Wagner’s Bayreuth Disciples” in Wagnerism in European Culture and Politics.
. . . his need to be accepted by the very people he scorned.
Doris Kearns, Lyndon Johnson & The American Dream.
In the symphony of his public performance these discordances . . .
Rexford G. Tugwell, The Democratic Roosevelt.
. . . the contrarieties within, . . .
Margaret Brenman-Gibson, Clifford Odets: American Playwright.
. . . sometimes seemed to him intolerable, and control of his resentment was difficult.
Rexford G. Tugwell, The Democratic Roosevelt.
Prof. Nietzsche, the philologist, announces a visit, . . .
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Saturday, June 5, 1869).
. . . Wagner . . .
Sheldon M. Novick, Henry James: The Young Master.
. . . wishes to put him off, . . .
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Saturday, June 5, 1869).
. . . but Cosima, . . .
Sheldon M. Novick, Henry James: The Young Master.
—her conscience not allowing her to assent to this proposition—
Henry James, An International Episode.
. . . would insist . . .
J. Moussaieff Masson, Final Analysis.
. . . in her regal way, . . .
Jeffrey Rosen, The New Look of Liberalism on the Court.
. . . that he come.
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Saturday, June 5, 1869).
Cosima, . . .
Sheldon M. Novick, Henry James: The Young Master.
. . . contributing her diplomatic best, . . .
Robert W. Gutman, Richard Wagner: The Man, His Mind, and His Music.
. . .smoothed over all disagreements . . .
Sheldon M. Novick, Henry James: The Young Master.
. . . logically and without undue passion
Jeffrey Rosen, The New Look of Liberalism on the Court quoting Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg.
It was she who created and maintained the structure of the court, upon which the whole . . .
Sheldon M. Novick, Henry James: The Young Master.
. . . of Wagner’s . . .
Martin Gregor-Dellin, Wagner: His Life, His Work, His Century.
. . . great work depended.
Sheldon M. Novick, Henry James: The Young Master.
I hear the sound of steps muffled by the thick carpets. It is the master, wearing his velvet garment with wide sleeves lined in black satin.
Pierre-Auguste Renoir, Letter to an Unknown Friend.
Wagner and his personal party . . .
Ernest Newman, The Life of Richard Wagner.
. . . had emerged from . . .
Henry James, An International Episode.
. . . the library where he had been busy with his old editions . . .
Thomas Mann, The Blood of the Walsungs.
. . . and he . . .
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Elective Affinities.
. . . calls for Hebrew wine!
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Saturday, July 2, 1881).
He was continually acquiring old books, first editions, in many languages, costly and crumbling trifles.
Thomas Mann, The Blood of the Walsungs.
Wagner had . . .
Robert W. Gutman, Richard Wagner: The Man, His Mind, and His Music.
. . . an extraordinary appreciation for learning; . . .
Fritz Stern, Gold and Iron: Bismarck, Bleichroder, and the Building of the German Empire.
. . . and, like . . .
William Shakespeare, Hamlet.
. . . the faithful Jews with whom the composer surrounded himself . . .
Robert W. Gutman, Richard Wagner: The Man, His Mind, and His Music.
. . . revered the cultural heritage of the past.
Fritz Stern, Gold and Iron: Bismarck, Bleichroder, and the Building of the German Empire.
Nietzsche . . .
Truddi Chase, When Rabbit Howls.
. . . who was dressed entirely in black, . . .
Ernest Newman, The Life of Richard Wagner.
. . . with pink vest and green bowtie, . . .
Fantasy Costumes, Neon Bunny.
. . . and seemed to Wagner like some figure out of a tale by Hoffmann, had finally . . .
Ernest Newman, The Life of Richard Wagner.
. . . appeared.
Thomas Mann, The Blood of the Walsungs.
"Good evening, Professor!"
Sigmund Freud, The Psychopathology of Everyday Life.
Hearing him approach, . . .
Edward Field, Excerpt from Three Frankenstein Poems.
. . . Wagner . . .
K.R. Eissler, Talent and Genius.
. . . welcomes him:
Edward Field, Excerpt from Three Frankenstein Poems.
It's high time!
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
The Professor . . .
Thomas Mann, Disorder and Early Sorrow.
. . . seizes the fingers of . . .
Edmund Morris, The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt.
. . . his host, . . .
Joseph Conrad, The Rescue.
. . . and wrings them with surprising power. “It’s a very full and very firm grip,” . . .
Edmund Morris, The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt.
. . . said Wagner, . . .
Martin Gregor-Dellin, Richard Wagner: His Life, His Work, His Century.
. . . If you press my hand any harder I won’t be able to hold cards for three days. Come on! I’ll introduce you! Why do you draw back?
Hugo von Hofmannsthal and Richard Strauss, Arabella.
“Come in, my friend,” and . . .
Edward Field, Excerpt from Three Frankenstein Poems.
. . . the Old Man . . .
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust.
. . . takes . . .
Edward Field, Excerpt from Three Frankenstein Poems.
. . .the Professor . . .
Joseph Conrad, The Secret Agent
. . . by the arm.
Edward Field, Excerpt from Three Frankenstein Poems.
(He walks on with WAGNER.)
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust.
I glanced casually toward the main door and there stood General Grant. None of the other guests recognized him, but then he is not, to say the least, a vivid-looking man.
Gore Vidal, 1876: A Novel.
Liszt arrived at last . . .
Martin Gregor-Dellin, Richard Wagner: The Man, His Work, His Century.
There’s papa!
Hugo von Hofmannsthal and Richard Strauss, Arabella.
. . . embraced his daughter . . .
Gustave Flaubert, Emma Bovary.
. . . and walked on, allowing . . .
Anthony Trollope, The Prime Minister.
. . . Frau Wagner . . .
Henry Adams, The Education of Henry Adams.
. . . to walk by his side.
Anthony Trollope, The Prime Minister.
One of the women murmured:
Guy de Maupassant, The Hand.
There he is. Don’t you think he’s elegant?
Hugo von Hofmannsthal and Richard Strauss, Arabella.
“Papa! Come along!”
Gustave Flaubert, Madame Bovary.
An admiring group, huddled by the doorway . . .
Henry Adams, Democracy: An American Novel.
—Papa, viens donc!
Gustave Flaubert, Madame Bovary.
. . . is hushed into admiring awe.
Edna Ferber, The Homely Heroine.
They sat down, they unfolded their stiff table napkins. The immense room was carpeted, the walls were covered with eighteenth-century paneling . . .
Thomas Mann, The Blood of the Walsungs.
Frau Wagner . . .
Henry Adams, The Education of Henry Adams.
. . . gestures to . . .
Hugo von Hofmannsthal and Richard Strauss, Arabella.
. . . her father . . .
J. Moussaieff Masson, Final Analysis.
. . . to sit down beside her.
Hugo von Hofmannsthal and Richard Strauss, Arabella.
Very relaxed, indeed even very cheerful mood . . .
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Saturday, July 2, 1881).
The family table, with its seven places was lost in the void. It was drawn up close to the large French window . . .
Thomas Mann, The Blood of the Walsungs.
. . . that opened onto . . .
Edgar Rice Burroughs, Out of Time’s Abyss.
. . . the Winter Garden.
Hugo von Hofmannsthal and Richard Strauss, Arabella.
The principal dish at . . .
Thomas Mann, Disorder and Early Sorrow.
. . . what Renoir later called a “fairyland dinner”
Margaret Brenman-Gibson, Clifford Odets, American Playwright.
. . . had been croquettes made of turnip greens . . .
Thomas Mann, Disorder and Early Sorrow.
. . . an entrée of . . .
John Kendrick Bangs, The Enchanted Typewriter.
. . . Newcastle salmon, . . .
Charles Dickens, Martin Chuzzlewit.
. . . pink and moist, . . .
Jacques Pepin, The Apprentice: My Life in the Kitchen.
. . . and spinach Farfalle.
Il Trullo – The Best of Italy.
The entrée was fish, but the wine was red.
Primo Levi, The Periodic Table.
Renoir, . . .
Gertrude Stein, The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas.
. . . the French painter . . .
Cosima Wagner’s Diaries (Sunday, January 15, 1882).
. . . said that it was all a lot of nonsense, provided the wine and fish were good; he was certain that the majority of those who upheld the orthodox view could not, blindfolded, have distinguished a glass of white wine from a glass of red.
Primo Levi, The Periodic Table.
The waiter . . .
Hugo von Hofmannsthal and Richard Strauss, Arabella.
… “Theodore,” . . .
Edmund Morris, The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt.
. . . whose name I had but recently learned—
Jack London, Mutiny of the Elsinore.
. . . bustles in the kitchen, popping in frequently to refill our glasses.
Frank Rich, Conversations with Sondheim.
. . . wine?
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
No!
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Genealogy of Morals.
To drink good wine . . . what is better?
Arrigo Boito, Falstaff.
Nietzsche!
Cosima Wagner, Letter to Richard Strauss.
. . . come drink a little wine with me. I have here a wine that is exquisite.
Oscar Wilde, Salome.
The Kaiser . . .
Barbara Tuchman, The Guns of August.
. . . himself sent it me.
Oscar Wilde, Salome.
No!
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Genealogy of Morals.
Taste it . . .
Homer, The Odyssey.
Alcohol is bad for me: a single glass of wine or beer in one day is quite sufficient to turn my life into a vale of misery—
Friedrich Nietzsche, Ecce Homo.
O Theodor! Here he is, Theodor!
Hugo von Hofmannsthal and Richard Strauss, Arabella.
Quick, Water here!
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nòrnberg.
. . . a glass of water . . .
Hugo von Hofmannsthal and Richard Strauss, Arabella.
Forgive me . . .
Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil.
(emptying the glass in one go and holding it up in his right hand)
Hugo von Hofmannsthal and Richard Strauss, Arabella.
. . . around the middle of life, to be sure, I decided more and more strictly against all "spirits": I, an opponent of vegetarianism from experience, just like Richard Wagner, who converted me, cannot advise all more spiritual natures earnestly enough to abstain entirely from alcohol. Water is sufficient.
Friedrich Nietzsche, Ecce Homo.
But friend, . . .
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
. . . The wine is mixed weak and pale.
Richard Wagner, Gotterdammerung.
I shall not say another word.
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Case of Wagner.
(The waiter leaves.)
Hugo von Hofmannsthal and Richard Strauss, Arabella.
(aside) What does he want here?—
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
—At supper the Jewish problem . . .
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Tuesday, November 14, 1882).
. . . is considered at length.
Jon William Toigo and Margaret Romao Toigo, Review of The Holy Grail of Data Storage Management.
Well, then!
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Case of Wagner.
. . . to speak of Heine . . .
Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil.
. . . what a memorable phenomenon this artist Jew has been among Germans!
Thomas Mann, Notiz uber Heine.
“He is the bad conscience of our whole era,” . . .
Cosima Wagner’s Diaries (Monday, December 13, 1869).
. . . said Wagner, . . .
Bryan Magee, Aspects of Wagner.
. . . very ironical in tone . . .
Cosima Wagner’s Diaries (Sunday, March 3, 1872).
“the most unedifying and demoralizing matters one can possibly imagine, and yet one feels closer to him than to the whole clique he is so naively exposing.”
Cosima Wagner’s Diaries (Monday, December 13, 1869).
Heine once said that Jews . . .
Fritz Stern, Gold and Iron: Bismarck, Bleichroder and the Building of the German Empire.
Wh-What?
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
Heine once said that Jews are like the people among whom they live, only more so.
Fritz Stern, Gold and Iron: Bismarck, Bleichroder and the Building of the German Empire.
What does that mean?
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nòrnberg.
. . . the meaning was transparent:
Ken Frieden, Freud's Dream of Interpretation.
Germans and Jews were a serious, sober, thorough people . . .
Fritz Stern, Gold and Iron: Bismarck, Bleichroder, and the Building of the German Empire.
. . . with a . . .
William Shakespeare, Hamlet.
. . . long history of disunity, of uncertain nationhood, . . .
Fritz Stern, Gold and Iron: Bismarck, Bleichroder, and the Building of the German Empire.
—that is to say, . . .
K.R. Eissler, Talent and Genius.
. . . their sense of identity was precarious . . .
Fritz Stern, Gold and Iron: Bismarck, Bleichroder, and the Building of the German Empire.
—Go on!
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Genealogy of Morals.
Have you made anything of this torrent of words?
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
—proceed.
George Gordon, Lord Byron, Manfred.
I understood nothing of it!
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
Rarely have you understood me, and rarely too have I understood you.
Heinrich Heine, Buch der Lieder.
(aside) I don't like him!
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
"I don't like him."—Why?—"I am not equal to him."—Has any human being ever answered that way?
Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil.
What a fuss!
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
Freud shook his head.
E.L. Doctorow, Ragtime.
The doctor was the only person in the room who sat normally. All the rest were lolling eccentrically with an air of exaggerated and assumed ease.
Boris Pasternak, Dr. Zhivago.
I glanced over at . . .
Anna Katherine Green, Initials Only.
. . . Nietzsche . . .
T.Z. Lavine, From Socrates to Sartre: The Philosophic Quest.
. . . who was attired in . . .
Fergus Hume, The Green Mummy.
—did I mention?
Louisa May Alcott, Jack and Jill.
. . . an undertaker-style suit. He was hunched over the table, simultaneously reading and chewing.
Jacques Pepin, The Apprentice: My Life in the Kitchen (describing Jean-Paul Sartre dining at La Rotonde).
The conversation was lagging.
Joseph Wortis, Fragments of an Analysis with Freud.
as I was listening . . . I felt as if I were falling asleep
Leonard Shengold, Soul Murder.
. . . aware of having been adrift far off in the unknown. What was it that had sent him there, he wondered?
Edith Wharton, The Age of Innocence.
Meantime . . .
Sigmund Freud, The Interpretation of Dreams.
. . . preoccupied and distracted . . .
Natalie Bauer-Lechner, Recollections of Gustav Mahler.
. . . I had been humming a tune to myself which I recognized as Figaro's aria from Le Nozze di Figaro . . .
Sigmund Freud, The Interpretation of Dreams.
Taking no part in the discussion and unmoved by any of the issues raised in it, . . .
Boris Pasternak, Dr. Zhivago.
. . . Doctor Freud . . .
Billa Zanuso, The Young Freud.
. . . neither spoke nor smiled.
Boris Pasternak, Dr. Zhivago.
He knew that they were united against him, that they despised him: for his origins, for the blood which flowed in his veins . . .
Thomas Mann, The Blood of the Walsungs.
You are not one of them, said the inner voice; you and your tribe . . .
Fritz Stern, Gold and Iron: Bismarck, Bleichroder, and the Building of the German Empire.
I dont belong here
William Faulkner, Light in August (Chapter 12)
Freud was by this time however deeply immersed in . . .
Joseph Wortis, Fragments of an Analysis with Freud.
. . . the prevailing banality . . .
Albert Speer, Inside the Third Reich.
. . . and simply shrugged his shoulders.
Joseph Wortis, Fragments of an Analysis with Freud.
At length . . .
Edith Wharton, The Age of Innocence.
Several voices cried out:
Mark Twain, The Man That Corrupted Hadleyburg.
Quiet!
Candide (Excerpt from “Quiet,” lyrics by Richard Wilbur).
Enough on this subject.
Oscar Wilde, Salome.
And now . . .
Sigmund Freud, The Interpretation of Dreams.
—finally!—
Harold C. Schonberg, The Lives of the Great Composers.
At last!
Embracing Mahler’s World: Peter Franklin Welcomes the Arrival in English of the Latest Volume in de La Grange’s Epic Biography.
The fish course came on. The servants hurried with it from the sideboard through the length of the room. They handed round with it a creamy sauce and poured out a Rhine wine that prickled on the tongue. The conversation turned to . . .
Thomas Mann, The Blood of the Walsungs.
. . . A visit to the opera where I saw . . .
Joseph Wortis, Fragments of an Analysis with Freud.
. . . a production of "Cosi Fan Tutte," . . .
Jeffrey Rosen, The New Look of Liberalism on the Court.
. . . Mozart's . . .
Sigmund Freud, The Interpretation of Dreams.
. . . "piece de resistance"—
Philip Roth, Portnoy's Complaint.
Delightful!
Arrigo Boito, Falstaff.
I have always wondered . . .
Sigmund Freud, The History of the Psychoanalytic Movement.
What on earth has given opera its prestige in western civilisation—a prestige that has outlasted so many different fashions and ways of thought?
Kenneth Clark, Civilisation.
Yes.
Arrigo Boito, Falstaff.
Why are people prepared to sit silently for three hours listening to a performance of which they do not understand a word and of which they very seldom know the plot?
Kenneth Clark, Civilisation.
Bravo!
Arrigo Boito, Falstaff.
Why do quite small towns all over Germany and Italy still devote a large portion of their budgets . . .
Kenneth Clark, Civilisation.
More generous than Croesus.
Arrigo Boito, Falstaff.
. . . to this irrational entertainment?
Kenneth Clark, Civilisation.
What do you ask?
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
No doubt there are many reasons for this, but I think . . .
Bryan Magee, Aspects of Wagner.
Partly, of course, because it is a display of skill, like a football match. But chiefly, I think, because it is irrational. 'What is too silly to be said may be sung'—
Kenneth Clark, Civilisation.
. . . true but boring, . . .
Matt Ridley, Genome: The Autobiography of a Species in 23 Chapters.
—well, yes; but what is too subtle to be said, or too deeply felt, or too revealing or too mysterious—these things can also be sung and only be sung. When, at the beginning of Mozart's . . .
Kenneth Clark, Civilisation.
I forget. Ah! Ah!
Oscar Wilde, Salome.
Cosima fan tutte.
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Thursday, September 30, 1869).
(looking up, surprised) What's that?
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
Cosi fan tutte
Peter Gay, Freud, Jews, and Other Germans.
"Ah, yes— . . . "
Edith Wharton, The Age of Innocence.
Frau Cosima . . .
Arthur Rubinstein, My Young Years.
. . . became visibly embarrassed . . .
Thomas Mann, The Blood of the Walsungs.
. . . beneath her mask . . .
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Sunday, March 24, 1878).
. . . of imperturbability.
W.D. Howells, The Rise of Silas Lapham.
She sat motionless, with lowered lids.
Edith Wharton, The Age of Innocence.
Doctor Freud . . .
Billa Zanuso, The Young Freud.
. . . whose glance . . .
Henry David Thoreau, Walking.
. . . changed to a stare of astonishment and mystification . . .
W.D. Howells, The Rise of Silas Lapham.
. . . poured out wine into a slender glass . . .
Thomas Mann, The Blood of the Walsungs.
. . . his hostess's face!
Natalie Bauer-Lechner, Recollections of Gustav Mahler.
. . . it glowed a dark ruby red.
Thomas Mann, The Blood of the Walsungs.
"Cosi Fan Tutte," . . .
Jeffrey Rosen, The New Look of Liberalism on the Court.
"Oh, it's glorious! But it belongs to one particular style and time . . . "
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Sunday, March 24, 1878).
. . . the 18th century . . .
Jeffrey Rosen, The New Look of Liberalism on the Court.
. . . the rococo period, . . .
K.R. Eissler, Talent and Genius.
. . . a vanished age . . .
Winston Churchill, My Early Life: 1874-1904.
But there is more than this.
Margaret Brenman-Gibson, Clifford Odets: American Playwright.
I like the story of Mozart sitting at table absentmindedly folding and refolding his napkin into more and more elaborate patterns, as fresh musical ideas passed through his mind. But this formal perfection was used to express two characteristics which were very far from the Rococo style.
Kenneth Clark, Civilisation.
"Is that so?"
W.D. Howells, The Rise of Silas Lapham.
Explain yourself.
Arrigo Boito, Falstaff.
"What are the characteristics? . . . "
W.D. Howells, The Rise of Silas Lapham.
Tell me.
Arrigo Boito, Falstaff.
One of them was that peculiar kind of melancholy, a melancholy amounting almost to panic, which so often haunts the isolation of genius. Mozart felt it quite young. The other characteristic was almost the opposite: a passionate interest in human beings, and in the drama of human relationships. How often in Mozart's orchestral pieces—concertos or quartets—we find ourselves participating in a drama or dialogue; and of course this feeling reaches its natural conclusion in opera.
Kenneth Clark, Civilisation.
In Cosi fan tutte, our disquiet extends to the moral universe, overthrowing traditional expectations of love and fidelity, valorizing irony as the condition humaine.
Maynard Solomon, Mozart: A Life.
. . . revolutionary ideas . . .
Sigmund Freud, The Interpretation of Dreams.
Precisely!
Arrigo Boito, Falstaff.
The social order remains intact, the marriages take place, but the heart is permanently seared. Here the untangling at the close leaves a bitter residue, a sense of love's uncertainty, a universal sense of betrayal and moral instability.
Maynard Solomon, Mozart: A Life.
. . . but the libretto written by da Ponte is frankly a farce—a farce with deep underlying meaning, to be sure, but nevertheless a libretto with an artificially arranged construction.
Harold C. Schonberg, The Lives of the Great Composers.
—one is amazed by the soul he managed to breathe into such a text.
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Sunday, May 29, 1870).
The conversation veered and tacked to and fro . . .
Thomas Mann, The Blood of the Walsungs.
—but then . . .
William Shakespeare, King Lear.
. . . it circled round a point of purely abstract interest, . . .
Thomas Mann, The Blood of the Walsungs.
—namely, . . .
K.R. Eissler, Talent and Genius.
. . . the emergence of the English title:
Peter Gay, Freud: A Life for Our Time.
"Cosi" is the one about the two lotharios who make a bet that their girlfriends will be faithful, disguise themselves as Albanian soldiers, try to seduce each other's girlfriend and find that the women aren't faithful after all.
Jeffrey Rosen, The New Look of Liberalism on the Court.
That . . . seems very familiar to me.
Lorenzo Da Ponte, Don Giovanni.
. . . talk of love affairs . . .
Peter Gay, Freud, Jews and Other Germans.
" . . . Yes, . . . very familiar . . . "
Peter Gay, Freud: A Life for Our Time.
I suggested . . .
Jeffrey Rosen, The New Look of Liberalism on the Court.
. . . to the others . . .
Henry James, The Turn of the Screw.
. . . that perhaps . . .
Jeffrey Rosen, The New Look of Liberalism on the Court.
. . . the conceit of . . .
William Shakespeare, Sonnet No. XV.
. . . Cosi fan tutte . . .
Maynard Solomon, Mozart: A Life.
. . . was hard to reconcile with the sexual double standards of the 18th century, which were central to the plot and reflected in the traditional translation of the title: "Never Trust a Woman."
Jeffrey Rosen, The New Look of Liberalism on the Court.
Frau Cosima . . .
Arthur Rubinstein, My Young Years.
. . . as I recall, was wearing a black velvet cape, and she looked at me indulgently with her unblinking eyes. The Italian title, she pointed out, was in the third person plural. "They are all like that" would be a more accurate translation, she suggested. And so, she said, . . .
Jeffrey Rosen, The New Look of Liberalism on the Court.
. . . like a judge who is compelled to judge . . .
John Fowles, The Aristos.
. . . there was no reason to assume from the title that Mozart and his librettist, Lorenzo da Ponte, approved of male infidelity any more than they approved of female infidelity, or that they thought women inherently more or less trustworthy than men.
Jeffrey Rosen, The New Look of Liberalism on the Court.
Well now, I hope you followed that.
Arrigo Boito, Falstaff.
The lady protests too much, methinks.
William Shakespeare, Hamlet.
Cosi fan tutte le belle!
Non c’e alcuna novita.
Lorenzo Da Ponte, Le Nozze di Figaro.
. . . or translated,
Stanley Maloy, The Central Dogma: DNA Makes RNA Makes Protein.
Every woman's alike!
There's nothing new about it.
Lorenzo Da Ponte, Le Nozze di Figaro.
No matter!
Oscar Wilde, Salome.
In any case, . . .
Mike May, Did Mozart Use the Golden Section?
We know for sure that . . .
K.R. Eissler, Talent and Genius.
The little man from Salzburg . . .
Harold C. Schonberg, The Lives of the Great Composers.
. . . Mozart . . .
Philip Roth, Portnoy’s Complaint.
. . . was a miracle.
Harold C. Schonberg, The Lives of the Great Composers.
. . . the light of inspiration . . .
James Joyce, Ulysses.
. . . all that he did is unparalleled, . . .
Gustav Mahler, Conversation with Natalie Bauer-Lechner.
. . . past all parallel—
George Gordon, Lord Byron, Don Juan.
unpar
James Joyce, Ulysses.
. . . certainly one of the most beautiful . . .
Charles Darwin, The Descent of Man.
alleled
James Joyce, Ulysses.
That's most certain!
William Shakespeare, The Tempest.
During the course of the eighteenth century, Western man woke up to the perception, discernment and enjoyment of psychological details of a subtlety and refinement such as the world had not known before. This, I believe, was brought about far more by Mozart's music than by the poetry of the time.
K.R. Eissler, Talent and Genius.
Well spoken!
Arrigo Boito, Falstaff.
"The poor fellow, with his broad nose and a mouth (so it's said) literally like a pig's snout, he had a real feeling for beauty! I'm only now learning to appreciate him fully. What aristocracy, what beauty . . . how everything in him was just instinct, not that he couldn't do it any other way."—
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Friday, November 29, 1878).
. . . wherever he reached out his hand, the greatest art arose!
Gustav Mahler, Conversation with Natalie Bauer-Lechner.
. . . he had nothing but scorn for the musician who indulged in cheap or meretricious effects.
Harold C. Schonberg, The Lives of the Great Composers.
"There you see the true German . . ."
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Sunday, April 14, 1872).
"Would you believe that Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert, and Schumann are as alive to me as almost anyone I know? It has been true for many years, and there I am talking about men I do not know in life no less!"
Clifford Odets, Letter to Margaret Brenman-Gibson.
But . . . Mendelssohn . . .
Harold C. Schonberg, The Lives of the Great Composers.
My dear, dear Mendelssohn . . .
Richard Wagner, Letter to Felix Mendelssohn.
. . . half-Lutheran, half-Jew . . .
Herbert Kupferberg, The Mendelssohns: Three Generations of Genius.
. . . the marks of his race stood out strong in his face—
Thomas Mann, The Blood of the Walsungs.
"He has shown us that a Jew may have the amplest store of specific talents, may own the finest and most varied culture, the highest and the tenderest sense of honor—yet without all these preeminences helping him, were it but one single time, to call forth in us that deep heart-searching effect which we await from Art. . . . "
Herbert Kupferberg, The Mendelssohns: Three Generations of Genius quoting Wagner, Jewry in Music.
On such levels there is, however, no place for the gnat Mendelssohn to vaunt himself.—
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Tuesday, July 6, 1869).
"He exaggerates more than a little," said Freud.
Joseph Wortis, Fragments of an Analysis with Sigmund Freud.
Everyone talked around Freud, glancing at him continuously to gauge his mood.
E.L. Doctorow, Ragtime.
Wagner did not let his denunciation rest; . . .
Herbert Kupferberg, The Mendelssohns: Three Generations of Genius.
. . . but rather, . . .
William Shakespeare, Cymbeline.
Would you believe it?
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Case of Wagner.
. . . started up once more . . .
Mark Twain, Following the Equator: A Journey Around the World.
. . . on the subject of Heine's remark . . .
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Thursday, June 16, 1870).
. . . indeed harangued, like a possessed prophet, as though . . .
Primo Levi, The Periodic Table.
. . . a new world . . .
K.R. Eissler, Talent and Genius.
. . . had been revealed to him by Jehovah on Sinai or, rather, by Wotan on Valhalla.
Primo Levi, The Periodic Table.
Something terrible was going on inside him . . .
J. Moussaieff Masson, Final Analysis.
. . . for his . . .
William Shakespeare, Hamlet.
. . . eyes were red and he looked slightly deranged.
Thomas Mann, The Blood of the Walsungs.
It had grown very still in the room.
Thomas Mann, Mario and the Magician.
There was a long pause. Then—
Judith Rossner, August.
—who knows what had come into his head!—he suddenly . . .
Natalie Bauer-Lechner, Recollections of Gustav Mahler.
. . . flared up . . .
Martin Gregor-Dellin, Richard Wagner: His Life, His Work, His Century.
. . . quite furious . . .
Natalie Bauer-Lechner, Recollections of Gustav Mahler.
What does that mean?
Oscar Wilde, Salome.
. . . Jews are like the people among whom they live . . .
Fritz Stern, Gold and Iron: Bismarck, Bleichroder, and the Building of the German Empire.
Bah – bah – bah – bah – bah!
John le Carre, The Night Manager.
What useless chatter all that is; as if you could answer!
The Diary of Richard Wagner: The Brown Book 1865-1882.
What?
Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil.
Just see how things look in that respect!
The Diary of Richard Wagner: The Brown Book 1865-1882.
Say it!
Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil.
—"they are drunken ideas." "If one were chemically to analyze this witticism[ of Heine's," Wagner said, "]which seems like a stroke of genius, one would discover at its base the Jewish outsider, who speaks about the conditions of our life as an Iroquois would speak of our railroads. Behind this 'drunken idea' lie experiences in student life, when someone is abused as a scholar, and out of this insult comes a drunken duel; here, too, the Jew is an outsider, he notices what is raw and flat, but he has no feeling for the ideals of our nature."
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Thursday, June 16, 1870).
"Nonsense," says the Professor . . .
Thomas Mann, Disorder and Early Sorrow.
" . . . Among Germans, his type . . .
Martin Gregor-Dellin, Richard Wagner: His Life, His Work, His Century quoting Nietzsche.
. . . Wagner's type . . .
J. Kucera and M. Hajduga, Measurement of Carbon Diffusion Coefficients in Fe-C-Cr Steels by Chromatographic Method.
. . . is simply alien, peculiar, uncomprehended, incomprehensible."
Martin Gregor-Dellin, Richard Wagner: His Life, His Work, His Century quoting Nietzsche.
The Professor does not succeed in . . .
Thomas Mann, Disorder and Early Sorrow.
. . . concealing his . . .
Henry James, Hawthorne.
. . . anger and disgust at Wagner’s tactlessness.
Ernest Newman, The Life of Richard Wagner.
Our host . . .
Henry James, The Death of the Lion.
. . . becomes very, very annoyed
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Monday, December 18, 1882).
Was he to be taught lessons in manners by a man . . .
Franz Kafka, The Trial.
. . . one generation . . .
Erik H. Erikson, Insight and Responsibility.
. . . younger than himself? To be punished for his frankness by a rebuke?
Franz Kafka, The Trial.
The Professor feels an involuntary twinge. Uppermost in his heart is hatred for . . .
Thomas Mann, Disorder and Early Sorrow.
. . . Wagner's tyranny.
Robert W. Gutman, Richard Wagner: The Man, His Mind, and His Music.
He wears a mechanical smile, but his eyes have clouded, and he stares fixedly at a point in the
carpet . . .
Thomas Mann, Disorder and Early Sorrow.
" . . . May heaven have mercy on the European intellect if one wanted to subtract the Jewish intellect from it."
Friedrich Nietzsche, Letter to His Mother or His Sister.
Attention must be paid!
Arthur Miller, Death of a Salesman.
Aye, to whom?
O. Henry, To Him Who Waits.
. . . the Jews.
George Eliot, Daniel Deronda.
Why the Jews?
Dennis Prager and Joseph Telushkin, Why the Jews?: The Reason for Antisemitism.
. . . what is due them?
O. Henry, Schools and Schools.
What Europe owes to the Jews?—Many things, good and bad, and above all one thing of the nature both of the best and the worst: the grand style in morality, the fearfulness and majesty of infinite demands, of infinite significations, the whole Romanticism and sublimity of moral questionableness—and consequently just the most attractive, ensnaring, and exquisite element in those iridescences and allurements to life, in the aftersheen of which the sky of our European culture, its evening sky, now glows—perhaps glows out. For this, we artists among the spectators and philosophers, are—grateful to the Jews.
Fredrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil.
What does this mean? Is he just mad?
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
—that’s all gibberish!—
Richard Wagner, The Brown Book: The Diary of Richard Wagner (September 11, 1865).
You should be boiled in oil. Then the oil should be boiled and your skin ripped off with forceps. After that they should rub salt over you and then bake you with a flour coating. Bake till brown and then serve with paprika dressing. You hound!
Margaret Brenman-Gibson, Clifford Odets: American Playwright (quoting a humorous letter).
Indeed!
Simon Gray, Butley.
This was more than Wagner could stand.
Robert W. Gutman, Richard Wagner: The Man, His Mind, and His Music.
"Oh, yes, our German culture would be completely icebound if it were not for this Schmierocco!"
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Sunday, January 7, 1883).
Franz Liszt, who . . .
Gerald D. Turbow, Art and Politics: Wagnerism in France.
. . . has entirely succumbed to Herzl’s influence, . . .
Thomas Mann, Disorder and Early Sorrow.
. . . turned to his pupil August Stradel and remarked:
Alan Walker, Liszt and the Twentieth Century in Franz Liszt: The Man & His Music.
. . . because the Jews form a Nation that does not want to, can not, and should not disappear, that Nation must engender a State.
Theodore Herzl, The Jewish State: An Attempt to Solve the Jewish Question.
“This old humbug”, . . .
Ernest Newman, The Life of Richard Wagner.
. . . my dear father-in-law, . . .
Honore de Balzac, Cousin Bette.
. . . rows about the Jews . . .
Hans Christian Andersen, The Shoes of Fortune.
. . . and would have them . . .
Andrew Barton Paterson, White-when-he’s-wanted.
. . . reconquer Palestine through their “own efforts.”
Gottfried Wagner, Twilight of the Wagners: The Unveiling of a Family’s Legacy quoting Liszt.
The whole table stared at . . .
Honore de Balzac, Cousin Bette.
. . . Wagner, . . .
Bryan Magee, Aspects of Wagner.
. . . who was embarrassed at finding himself the cynosure of all eyes.
Honore de Balzac, Cousin Bette.
Wagner’s tactlessness . . .
Robert Gutman, Richard Wagner: The Man, His Mind, and His Music.
. . . would have wrung a reply from a lesser man. But Liszt remained silent.
Alan Walker, Liszt and the Twentieth Century in Franz Liszt: The Man & His Music.
The ensuing cacophony of fulminations . . .
Jon Ralston, When egos take control.
. . . is almost Schoenbergian.
Alan Walker, Liszt and the Twentieth Century in Franz Liszt: The Man & His Music.
The Jews . . .
Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil.
. . . Nietzsche remarked . . .
Robert W. Gutman, Richard Wagner, His Life, His Mind, His Music.
. . . are beyond any doubt the strongest, toughest, and purest race now living in Europe; they know how to prevail even under the worst conditions (even better than under favorable conditions), by means of virtues that . . .
Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil.
Enough! Enough!
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
—That really is naive!
Richard Wagner, The Diary of Richard Wagner: The Brown Book 1865-1882.
Virtue . . .
Friedrich Nietzsche, Mixed Opinions and Maxims.
. . . Nietzsche says . . .
Robert W. Gutman, Richard Wagner, His Life, His Mind, His Music.
. . . has not been invented by the Germans.—Goethe's nobility and lack of envy, Beethoven's noble hermit's resignation, Mozart's charm and grace of the heart, . . .
Friedrich Nietzsche, Mixed Opinions and Maxims.
Have you finished yet?
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
—are these in any way German qualities?
Friedrich Nietzsche, Mixed Opinions and Maxims.
No longer able to control his rage . . .
Robert W. Gutman, Richard Wagner: The Man, His Mind, and His Music.
. . . Richard Wagner, . . .
Albert Rothenberg, Creativity and Madness.
. . . the foremost moral bigmouth today—
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Genealogy of Morals.
Are you perhaps referring to me?
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
. . . unexcelled even among his own ilk, the anti-Semites . . .
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Genealogy of Morals.
Say on, say on—
George Gordon, Lord Byron, Manfred.
Well then! Wagner . . .
Friedrich Nietzsche, Ecce Homo.
. . . grieving over what he regarded as Nietzsche's . . .
Ernest Newman, The Life of Richard Wagner.
. . . latest defection . . .
Simon Gardner, Argentina Meets Debt Expiry, Fends Default For Now.
. . . turned on him viciously, demanding . . .
Leonard Shengold, Soul Murder.
. . . in a shrill, breaking voice . . .
Arnold Schoenberg, A Survivor From Warsaw.
. . . that he be quiet—how dare he make such a fuss about . . .
Leonard Shengold, Soul Murder.
. . . the Jews . . .
Robert W. Gutman, Richard Wagner: The Man, His Mind, and His Music.
. . . whom Wagner called . . .
M. Owen Lee, Wagner’s Ring.
. . . the congenital enemies of humanity and all that is noble in it . . .
Robert W. Gutman, Richard Wagner: The Man, His Mind, and His Music.
'Only the Aryan hero, incarnation of the Good, can rescue the world from the threat of destruction, and we Germans could be the nation, before all others, chosen to bring this salvation to pass.'
Joachim Kohler, Nietzsche and Wagner: A Lesson in Subjugation.
Then, incredibly, . . .
Fred McMillin, WineDay.
. . . when somebody said that Jesus was a Jew, . . .
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Wednesday, January 12, 1881).
. . . Wagner . . .
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Case of Wagner.
(stamping his foot.)
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust.
. . . replied that this was more or less like saying Mozart was a credit to the people of Salzburg.
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Wednesday, January 12, 1881).
Such insolence!
Moliere, Tartuffe or the Hypocrite.
The illogic is patent.
U.S. Supreme Court, Zellman v. Simmons-Harris (dissenting opinion of Justice David Souter).
Nietzsche took his castigation with surprising humility, perhaps because the very thoroughness of it took his breath away . . .
Ernest Newman, The Life of Richard Wagner.
I feel the urge to open the windows a little. Air! More Air!—
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Case of Wagner.
There was instant silence.
Thomas Mann, Mario and the Magician.
Freud rose quietly . . .
Joseph Wortis, Fragments of an Analysis with Freud.
Such are the . . .
James Fenimore Cooper, The Last of the Mohicans.
. . . implications in that row . . .
Leonard Bernstein, The Unanswered Question.
. . . Nietzsche contra Wagner . . .
Friedrich Nietzsche, Nietzsche contra Wagner.
. . . that obviously the whole . . .
Leonard Bernstein, The Unanswered Question.
. . . Night . . .
George S. Kaufman and Morris Ryskind, A Night at the Opera.
. . . is going to be filled with . . .
Leonard Bernstein, The Unanswered Question.
. . . anti-Semitic dogma and agitation . . .
Fritz Stern, Gold and Iron: Bismarck, Bleichroder, and the Building of the German Empire.
. . . as long as that row has anything to say about it.
Leonard Bernstein, The Unanswered Question.
"It's unspeakable," thought the doctor.
Boris Pasternak, Dr. Zhivago.
The time had come, he knew and acted.
Peter Gay, Freud: A Life for Our Time.
"I can no longer endure this!"
E.L. Doctorow, City of God.
"It's to show me," he thought, "what would happen to me—"
Edith Wharton, The Age of Innocence.
. . . I and my people, . . .
The Book of Esther.
. . . us Jews . . .
Sigmund Freud, Letter to Charles Singer.
"what would happen to me—"
Edith Wharton, The Age of Innocence.
And now—now finally, at last—
Thomas Mann, Mario and the Magician.
. . . a deathly sense of the superiority of implication and analogy over direct action, and of silence over rash words, closed in on him . . .
Edith Wharton, The Age of Innocence.
For Freud, . . .
E. James Lieberman, Acts of Will.
The hour ended here, . . .
Joseph Wortis, Fragments of an Analysis with Freud.
The doctor got up . . .
Boris Pasternak, Dr. Zhivago.
. . . turned to his host . . .
Edith Wharton, The Age of Innocence.
. . . and tremulously wondered . . .
W.D. Howells, The Rise of Silas Lapham.
. . . with amazement, with incredulity, with indignation, . . .
H.G. Wells, The Research Magnificent.
"What must the sleepless nights of such a person be like? What occupied his thoughts?"
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Thursday, July 20, 1871).
He muttered without realizing what he was saying, and completely beside himself:
Boris Pasternak, Dr. Zhivago.
You are not one of them . . . you and your tribe . . .
Fritz Stern, Gold and Iron: Bismarck, Bleichroder, and the Building of the German Empire.
He shook his head.
E.L. Doctorow, Ragtime.
You are not one of them . . .
Fritz Stern, Gold and Iron: Bismarck, Bleichroder, and the Building of the German Empire.
And he left, . . .
Emile Zola, Germinal.
. . . clamping his teeth on his cigar . . .
E.L. Doctorow, Ragtime.
Wagner . . .
Honore de Balzac, Cousin Bette.
(as though suddenly making up his mind)
Hugo von Hofmannsthal and Richard Strauss, Arabella.
. . . jumped up from the . . .
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
. . . table, . . .
Honore de Balzac, Cousin Bette.
. . . turned on his heel and walked away.
Harriet Beecher Stowe, Uncle Tom’s Cabin.
Anyone seeing . . .
Honore de Balzac, Cousin Bette.
. . . Wagner’s face . . .
Robert W. Gutman, Richard Wagner: The Man, His Mind, and His Music.
. . . at this moment . . .
Wilkie Collins, The Evil Genius.
. . . would have thought that all the painters had failed to portray the face of Mephistopheles.
Honore de Balzac, Cousin Bette.
There was a moment's silence. Then the uproar began.
Boris Pasternak, Dr. Zhivago.
"Yes, yes, he's right!"
Emile Zola, Germinal.
Wagner's anti-Semitism? Despicable. Horrible. Unacceptable.
Daniel Barenboim, The Great Composers: Wagner.
"Oh yes, it's terrible, absolutely terrible."
J. Moussaieff Masson, Final Analysis.
As a musician, too, he was only what he was in general: he became a musician, he became a poet because the tyrant within him, his actor's genius, compelled him.
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Case of Wagner.
I prefer to say that the man who has given us what he has musically lies certainly outside my range of understanding.
George Steiner, The Great Composers: Wagner.
. . . could anyone be quite sure of understanding such a man?
Franz Kafka, The Trial.
"What? Doesn't this mean . . . ?"
Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil.
. . . mean it doesn't make me bitterly, bitterly disturbed, ill at ease[?] . . .
George Steiner, The Great Composers: Wagner.
To be sure . . .
Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil.
But that—to put it very vulgarly, if I may: that's my problem, and not his.
George Steiner, The Great Composers: Wagner.
Enough! Enough!
Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil.
You do not know who Wagner is: a first-rate actor.
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Case of Wagner.
Excuse me, but . . . I've often heard it said that an actor could give lessons to a preacher.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust.
O nonsense!
Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil.
True, a trace of the old idealist tradition of the writer as teacher or prophet and preacher has clung to me. But I . . .
Hermann Hesse, Reflections.
Never mind.
Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness.
I place this perspective at the outset: Wagner's art is sick. The problems he presents on the stage—all of them problems of hysterics—the convulsive nature of his affects, his overexcited sensibility, his taste that required ever stronger spices . . .
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Case of Wagner.
On ze contrary . . . !
Otto Rank, quoted in E. James Lieberman, Acts of Will.
To a well-prepared dish each ingredient is important down to the last pinch of salt. But this is not to say that each of the ingredients is of equal importance—
Bryan Magee, Aspects of Wagner.
Wagner's music is one of, as they say in the Law Court—it's Exhibit A.
George Steiner, The Great Composers: Wagner.
It may be time for his admirers to consider rescuing what is valuable in . . .
Gertrude Himmelfarb, Judging Richard Posner.
. . . Wagner’s music . . .
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Case of Wagner.
. . . from the extravagances of the master himself.
Gertrude Himmelfarb, Judging Richard Posner.
—No, wait a moment!
Friedrich Nietzsche, On The Genealogy of Morals.
To say it plainly: Wagner does not give us enough to chew on. His recitativo—little meat, rather more bone, and a lot of broth—
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Case of Wagner.
Suddenly Wagner came back, red in the face and obviously angry.
Ernest Newman, The Life of Richard Wagner.
Why, sir! What are you saying?
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nòrnberg.
To be sure, . . .
Friedrich Nietzsche, Attempt at Self-Criticism.
. . . as far as the Wagnerian "leitmotif" is concerned, I lack all culinary understanding for that. If pressed, I might possibly concede it the status of an ideal toothpick, as an opportunity to get rid of remainders of food.
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Case of Wagner.
General Grant . . .
Cosima Wagner’s Diaries (Sunday, July 15, 1877).
. . . took his ease, chewed his cigar, looked at the people coming and going like any other war veteran . . .
Gore Vidal, 1876: A Novel.
. . . come home . . .
James Joyce, Ulysses.
. . . to grow old, to sit on the courthouse steps of an evening and watch others live.
Gore Vidal, 1876: A Novel.
“Perhaps the gentleman . . .
William O. Douglas, Go East Young Man: The Early Years—The Autobiography of William O. Douglas.
. . . that, Professor?—
Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr., The Autocrat at the Breakfast Table.
. . . is right.”
William O. Douglas, Go East Young Man: The Early Years—The Autobiography of William O. Douglas.
I doubt it.
Antonin Scalia, A Matter of Interpretation: Federal Courts and the Law.
I well remember my first meeting with . . .
William H. Rehnquist, Foreword to Reason and Passion: Justice Brennan’s Enduring Influence.
. . . Nietzsche—what restlessness, what bizarreness, what severe psychopathology!
K.R. Eissler, Talent and Genius.
‘Is this conflict really necessary?’
Jeffrey Rosen, The New Look of Liberalism on the Court quoting Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg.
I was always of the opinion that in a group like ours we should speak so fully that no opportunity for argument should be provided by overmuch narrowness in the meaning of the things said.
Giovanni Boccaccio, The Decameron.
Poor woman!
Honore de Balzac, Cousin Bette.
Her proposal . . .
Elizabeth Gaskell, Wives and Daughters.
. . . was met by a few smiles but mostly by stony silence.
William O. Douglas, The Court Years: 1939-1975—The Autobiography of William O. Douglas.
She let it rest with that.
The Niebelungenlied.
What after all was the lady to do?
Harold Bloom, The Book of J.
“As I stood there . . .
William O. Douglas, Go East Young Man: The Early Years—The Autobiography of William O. Douglas.
. . . shredded bits of . . .
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust.
. . . the wordy wit . . .
Henry David Thoreau, On the Duty of Civil Disobedience.
. . . of Goethe . . .
William O. Douglas, Go East Young Man: The Early Years—The Autobiography of William O. Douglas.
—a singularly frivolous and whimsical fellow;—
Henry David Thoreau, Walden.
. . . came . . .
William O. Douglas, Go East Young Man: The Early Years—The Autobiography of William O. Douglas.
. . . murmuring . . .
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust.
. . . back to me.”
William O. Douglas, Go East Young Man: The Early Years—The Autobiography of William O. Douglas.
This casus makes me chuckle.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust.
. . . said he; —
Henry David Thoreau, On the Duty of Civil Disobedience.
I was not surprised when . . .
Howard Zinn, Foreword to Stephen M. Kohn, American Political Prisoners: Prosecutions Under the Espionage and Sedition Acts.
. . . Wagner, . . .
Dresden City Police Commission, Warrant for the Arrest of Richard Wagner for the Crime of Sedition.
. . . restless and . . .
Cosima Wagner’s Diaries (Tuesday June 8, 1869).
. . .annoyed, . . .
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust.
. . . jumps up from his chair and . . .
The Electronic Observer Online, Baldwin Screams: “We Would Stone Henry Hyde.”
. . . turns to . . .
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust.
. . . Goethe among others.
DuBois Learning Center, Shades of Black: Bert Williams.
Stop!
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
Oh, to have to bear this insanity . . .
The Diary of Richard Wagner—The Brown Book: 1865-1882.
. . . as though I . . .
Sigmund Freud, The Interpretation of Dreams.
. . . was on trial and having a difficult time in court!
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Tuesday, June 27, 1882).
“A queer thing, that . . .
Homer, The Odyssey.
. . . one always has to go on chewing the same thing over and over!”
Cosima Wagner’s Diaries (Monday, March 6, 1871).
Wagner was beside himself and kept on . . .
Verwandlung: The Transformation Scenes in Wagner’s Parsifal.
. . . glaring at the others.
Joe Klein, In God They Trust.
His sharp eyes emitted the contempt and mockery of someone who knows everything better than everyone else but feels that the world begrudges him his success and refuses to acknowledge it out of envy.
Isaac Bashevis Singer, A Rabbi Not Like My Father.
How arrogant they seem, these gluttons, making free here in your house!
Homer, The Odyssey.
Indeed!
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
And . . .
Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil.
What a hideous yelling!
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
. . . raucous . . .
Franz Kafka, The Trial.
. . . loathsome . . .
Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Crime and Punishment.
. . . like the tune of a . . .
Joseph Conrad, The End of the Tether.
. . . Rat-Catcher
Richard Wagner, Satirical Poem "To Georg Herwegh."
How these men weary me! They are ridiculous! They are altogether ridiculous!
Oscar Wilde, Salome.
Things are not well with me. My poor nerves!
The Diary of Richard Wagner—The Brown Book: 1865-1882.
". . . though I am accused of something, I cannot recall the slightest offense that might be charged against me. But that even is of minor importance, the real question is, who accuses me? What authority is conducting these proceedings? Are you officers of the law? None of you has a uniform, unless your suit"—here he turned to Franz—
Franz Kafka, The Trial.
. . . Liszt paid no attention.
Martin Gregor-Dellin, Richard Wagner: His Life, His Work, His Century.
“Tut!” says . . .
Thomas Mann, Disorder and Early Sorrow.
. . . the Abbe . . .
Gustave Flaubert, Madame Bovary.
(to himself)
Lorenzo da Ponte, Cosi fan tutte.
. . . with something like contempt.
Honore de Balzac, Cousin Bette.
Heavens! My dear child married to an old man . . .
Hugo von Hofmannsthal and Richard Strauss, Arabella.
. . . like this one.
Gustave Flaubert, Madame Bovary.
What is it?
Hugo von Hofmannsthal and Richard Strauss, Arabella.
Liszt apparently replied that he shared . . .
Martin Gregor-Dellin, Richard Wagner: His Life, His Work, Hic Century.
. . . the opinion of the others . . .
Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility.
. . . but could not, as a man of the cloth, be heard to say so publicly.
Martin Gregor-Dellin, Richard Wagner: His Life, His Work, Hic Century.
Frau Cosima . . .
Arthur Rubinstein, My Young Years.
. . . a deeply pained expression on her face . . .
Hugo von Hofmannsthal and Richard Strauss, Arabella.
. . . turned to her father.
H.G. Wells, Soul of a Bishop.
Papa!
Gustave Flaubert, Madame Bovary.
At half past eight the Italian salad will be served; so now is the prescribed moment for the Professor to go out into the wintry darkness to post his letters and take his daily quantum of fresh air and exercise.
Thomas Mann, Disorder and Early Sorrow.
Strauss joined us—
Alma Mahler, Gustav Mahler: Memories and Letters.
God, Nietzsche! If only you had known him. He never laughed and always seemed taken aback by our jokes.
Cosima Wagner, Letter to Richard Strauss.
Yes, he has a sombre look.
Oscar Wilde, Salome.
One comes across queer ducks sometimes.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust.
I realize now that there was something already wrong . . .
Janet Malcolm, In the Freud Archives.
. . . when he first . . .
Henry James, The Pupil.
. . . came to our house, ate nothing, said 'I am a vegetarian,' I said to him, 'You are an ass!'
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Saturday, January 14, 1882).
Actually, you called him Cottontail.
Simon Gray, Butley.
“So I did, so I did.”
Edgar B.P. Darlington, The Circus Boys on the Flying Rings.
He had his diplomatic smile on—the one that makes him look exactly like a rabbit.
Simon Gray, Butley.
Raw pompous upstart!
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
All the same, the presence of . . .
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Tuesday, July 18, 1882).
George Eliot
Frederick R. Karl, George Eliot: Voice of a Century. A Biography.
. . . pleases him. He jokes with her about their writings: "The whole world reads yours, I read only my own, because in all others I find embarrassing contradictions. But not in mine—I do what the Talmud says about God, who reads the Bible."
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Tuesday, July 18, 1882).
George Eliot . . .
Frederick R. Karl, George Eliot: Voice of a Century. A Biography.
. . . started, half rose, listened a moment, then began to laugh and said:—
Victor Hugo, Les Miserables.
A book that is completely without contradictions would be a rare achievement.
K.R. Eissler, Talent and Genius.
R. is vexed . . .
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Thursday, December 7, 1882).
One wonders whether Miss Eliot, who had recently written Daniel Deronda, discussed it with . . . Robert W. Gutman, Richard Wagner: The Man, His Mind, and His Music.
. . . her host . . .
Henry James, The Ambassadors.
. . . the author of Jewry in Music.
Robert W. Gutman, Richard Wagner: The Man, His Mind, and His Music.
Visitors came and went.
Richard Wagner, Die Walkure.
Hermann Levi, the newlywed Gravinas, and the lanky Countess Usedom, who always amused the children by bending down to kiss their father's hand, in return for which she received a peck on the cheek.
Martin Gregor-Dellin, Richard Wagner: His Life, His Work, His Century.
Ivan Herzl, the celebrated young leading man at the Stadttheater . . .
Thomas Mann, Disorder and Early Sorrow.
. . . had to leave early—
Thomas Hardy, A Pair of Blue Eyes.
. . . for an engagement at the Opera.
Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo.
Wagner was in his postprandial mood . . .
Martin Gregor-Dellin, Richard Wagner: His Life, His Work, His Century.
. . . cheerful again, bubbling over with wit . . .
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Sunday, January 7, 1883).
. . . passing from one individual or group to another with a rough-and-ready joke on his lips.
Ernest Newman, The Life of Richard Wagner.
—A theory about the stars amuses him: if the light we see from stars is now several thousand years old, he says, then they must be seeing us as we were at the time of Abraham!
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Tuesday, June 28, 1881).
Oh, what a . . .
William Shakespeare, Hamlet.
. . . curious scientific phenomenon . . .
Tom Stoppard, Rosenkrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead.
An astounding phenomenon, indeed!
Govert Schuller, Krishnamurti and the Search for Light.
(Is this true, or . . .
Arrigo Boito, Falstaff.
. . . a celestial . . .
Harold Bloom, The Western Canon: The Books and Schools of the Ages.
. . . jest?)
Arrigo Boito, Falstaff.
When Levi . . .
Peter Gay, Freud, Jews and Other Germans.
. . . tells us that his father is a Rabbi,
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Monday, January 13, 1879).
. . . an influential Rabbi . . .
George Eliot, Daniel Deronda.
. . . our conversation comes back to the Israelites—the feeling that they intervened too early in our cultural condition, that the human qualities the German character might have developed from within itself and then passed on to the Jewish character have been stunted by their premature interference in our affairs, before we have become fully aware of ourselves . . .
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Monday, January 13, 1879).
"Nonsense," says the Professor, who has entered and is tossing off his things in the cloak-room. He says no more; opens the glass door and without a glance at the guests turns swiftly to the stairs. Takes them two at a time, crosses the upper hall and the small room leading into . . .
Thomas Mann, Disorder and Early Sorrow.
"Oh dear, . . .
Franz Kafka, The Metamorphosis.
. . . Cosima crowed . . .
Robert W. Gutman, Richard Wagner: The Man, His Mind, and His Music.
. . . perhaps he's terribly ill and we're tormenting him."
Franz Kafka, The Metamorphosis.
Cosima by now regarded Nietzsche with mixed feelings.
Martin Gregor-Dellin, Richard Wagner: His Life, His Work, His Century.
I have to tell you: The most amazing thing's occurred . . .
Arrigo Boito, Falstaff.
I was astonished to . . .
Mark Twain, Innocents Abroad.
. . . learn this evening . . .
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Thursday, May 11, 1871).
(reaching into her pocket and taking out a letter)
Arrigo Boito, Falstaff.
. . . that Prof. Nietzsche has now dedicated his . . .
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Thursday, May 11, 1871).
. . . lecture on . . .
Jack London, The Taste of The Meat.
. . . Homer, which he once dedicated to me, to his sister . . .
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Thursday, May 11, 1871).
What?
Arrigo Boito, Falstaff.
. . . and with the same poem.
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Thursday, May 11, 1871).
But wait—there’s more.
Mike D’Angelo, Review of O Brother, Where Art Thou?
. . . the paper, the ink, the form and shape, were the same.
William Faulkner, Light In August (Chapter 12).
Could that be true? It stretches credulity.
Jeffrey Birnbaum, Al Gore’s Clinton Moment.
"Shameful!"—
Homer, The Odyssey.
I had to laugh at first, but then . . .
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Thursday, May 11, 1871).
. . . I now . . .
Henry James, The Turn of the Screw.
. . . see it as a dubious streak, an addiction to treachery . . .
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Thursday, May 11, 1871).
You're joking!
Arrigo Boito, Falstaff.
. . . what a fop he is . . .
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Sunday, February 4, 1883).
Listen.
Homer, The Odyssey.
He has written a letter . . .
Arrigo Boito, Falstaff.
. . . with an identical dedicatory poem . . .
Martin Gregor-Dellin, Richard Wagner: His Life, His Work, His Century.
. . . a little manuscript poem to . . .
Charles Dickens, Going into Society.
. . . as many people as possible . . .
Claude Lanzmann, Shoah.
What a contrivance!
Arrigo Boito, Falstaff.
So I told our story . . .
Homer, The Odyssey.
. . . to Wagner . . .
Martin Gregor-Dellin, Richard Wagner: His Life, His Work, His Century.
. . . and in reply he burst out: 'Intolerable . . .'
Homer, The Odyssey.
"That bad person . . .
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Friday, August 2, 1878).
. . . Nietzsche! . . .
Cosima Wagner, Letter to Richard Strauss.
. . . an enemy to me inveterate . . .
William Shakespeare, The Tempest.
. . . has taken everything from me, even the weapons . . .
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Friday, August 2, 1878).
. . . that he . . .
William Shakespeare, The Tempest.
. . . counts as his plunder . . .
Richard Wagner, Parsifal.
. . . and with . . .
William Shakespeare, The Tempest.
. . . which he now attacks me. How sad that he should be so perverse—so clever, yet at the same
time so shallow!"
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Friday, August 2, 1878).
Wagner remarked to Cosima that Nietzsche had no ideas of his own . . .
Martin Gregor-Dellin, Richard Wagner: His Life, His Work, His Century.
. . . and that he (Wagner) . . .
An Open Letter from Glenda Miskin.
. . . is only now beginning to understand certain . . .
Cosima Wagner’s Diaries (Saturday, March 25, 1882).
. . . sober realities of . . .
Niki Scevak, The Lost Tribe.
. . . Shakespeare’s Tempest—
K.R. Eissler, Talent and Genius.
. . . such as . . .
George Steiner, Errata: An Examined Life.
. . . Caliban’s cry, . . .
M. Wintner, The Art and Power of Language: Storytelling, Translating, Transforming.
"You taught me language, and my profit on't is, I know how to curse."
Yosef Hayim Yerushalmi, Freud’s Moses quoting William Shakespeare, The Tempest.
I must say, . . .
Jack London, The People of the Abyss.
. . . his first book, The Birth of Tragedy, where he points so clearly to the distinction between music and the other fine arts, found me in complete accord.
Arthur Rubinstein, My Young Years.
. . . but the next book . . .
Richard Harding Davis, The Man Who Could Not Lose.
What was its name?
Frances Hodgson Burnett, Little Lord Fauntleroy.
All Too Human
George Stephanopoulos, All Too Human: A Political Education.
Repulsive.
Virginia Woolf, The Voyage Out.
“Useless!”
Jules Verne, Around the World in 80 Days.
. . . even more useless than knowledge of the chemical composition of water is to a sailor in danger of shipwreck.
Friedrich Nietzsche, Human, All Too Human.
Everyone was silent for a minute.
H.G. Wells, The Time Machine.
The Professor takes in only the general scene.
Thomas Mann, Disorder and Early Sorrow.
Miss Lou von Salome . . .
Friedrich Nietzsche, Ecce Homo.
. . . Lou, as she was called . . .
E. J. Lieberman, Acts of Will.
. . . swept up to him, flounced her short satin train—like a fish waving its fin—and vanished in the crowd.
Boris Pasternak, Dr. Zhivago.
The room looked at him like an alien countenance composed into a polite grimace; . . .
Edith Wharton, The Age of Innocence.
. . . his gaze seemed directed far away towards unexplored regions of the human soul.
Lou Andreas-Salome, Friedrich Nietzsche in Seinen Werken.
Where was I? I recognized nothing; I scarcely recognized Wagner.
Friedrich Nietzsche, Ecce Homo.
"Queer," thinks the Professor. "You would think a man would be one thing or the other— . . . . It's a psychological contradiction."
Thomas Mann, Disorder and Early Sorrow.
. . . the highest achievements of beauty . . . on the one hand . . .
George Steiner, The Great Composers: Wagner.
I, too, do not underestimate it; it has its peculiar magic.
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Case of Wagner.
. . . and the awfulness on the other?
George Steiner, The Great Composers: Wagner.
Without a doubt!
Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil.
Be that as it may—
K.R. Eissler, Talent and Genius.
'Tis hard to reconcile . . .
William Shakespeare, Macbeth.
. . . the circus of . . .
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Case of Wagner.
. . . embarrassing contradictions.
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Tuesday, July 18, 1882).
I say to myself:
Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil.
"Purely from the aspect of his value to Germany and German culture, Richard Wagner remains a big question mark, perhaps a German misfortune—fateful, at all events. But what does that matter? Is he not very much more than a German phenomenon? It would even seem to me that he belongs nowhere less than he does in Germany, where nothing is ready for him."
Martin Gregor-Dellin, Richard Wagner: His Life, His Work, His Century quoting Nietzsche.
. . . the clock has struck ten . . .
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von NĂĽrnberg.
Marie d’Agoult, . . .
Cosima Wagner’s Diaries (translator’s introduction).
. . . la grande mere . . .
Guy de Maupassant, The Vagabond.
. . . was talking . . .
Gustave Flaubert, Madame Bovary.
. . . and playing with the children—Daniel and Blandine von Bulow, Isolde, Eva, and Siegfried Wagner.
Phyllis Stock-Morton, The Life of Marie d’Agoult, alias Daniel Stern.
‘You! hypocrite lecteur!—mon semblable,—mon frere!’
T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land.
. . . she remarked abruptly, whereupon . . .
Willa Cather, The Bohemian Girl.
. . . the Countess . . .
Edith Wharton, The Age of Innocence.
. . . grinned and the children giggled.
Willa Cather, The Bohemian Girl.
"The children ought to go to bed," . . .
Thomas Mann, Disorder and Early Sorrow.
. . . Wagner remarked
Martin Gregor-Dellin, Richard Wagner: His Life, His Work, His Century.
He said, Marie, Marie . . .
T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land.
It’s getting late, my dear, . . .
Charles Dickens, David Copperfield.
HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land.
"Run along up to bed now; no excuses!"
Marcel Proust, Remembrance of Things Past.
But she pleads for another quarter of an hour; she has promised already, and they do love it so!
Thomas Mann, Disorder and Early Sorrow.
Rubinstein came and . . .
Martin Gregor-Dellin, Richard Wagner: His Life, His Work, His Century.
There he is!
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
. . . entertained us at the piano, . . .
Emma Goldman, Living My Life.
. . . playing . . .
William Shakespeare, Hamlet.
. . . a theme from Mozart’s Don Giovanni (Notte e giorno faticar),
John N. Burk, The Life and Works of Beethoven.
. . . in transcription.
The Internet Science Room, DeoxyRibonucleic Acid.
There are those who question . . .
Embracing Mahler’s World: Peter Franklin Welcomes the Arrival in English of the Latest Volume in De La Grange’s Epic Biography.
. . . Rubinstein’s . . .
Cosima Wagner’s Diaries (Sunday, January 23, 1876).
. . . magpie approach, often incorporating (although not uncritically) loosely paraphrased passages from . . .
Embracing Mahler’s World: Peter Franklin Welcomes the Arrival in English of the Latest Volume in De La Grange’s Epic Biography.
. . . Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, . . .
Clifford Odets, Letter to Margaret Brenman-Gibson.
. . . and others.
Embracing Mahler’s World: Peter Franklin Welcomes the Arrival in English of the Latest Volume in De La Grange’s Epic Biography.
But the man is . . .
Zane Grey, The Light of Western Stars.
. . . a master miniaturist, capable of sketching a variety of emotional states in a few quick tone strokes.
Maynard Solomon, Beethoven.
The elegant Liszt . . .
Robert W. Gutman, Richard Wagner: The Man, His Mind, and His Music.
. . . accompanied by his daughter, Cosima, and . . .
Alan M. Dershowitz, Reversal of Fortune: Inside the von Bulow Case.
. . . the others come in unnoticed to listen
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Monday, January 8, 1883).
Music was the prime loosener, with it thought slipped its moorings and meandered in lethargic maelstroms over deeps of after-dinner ease.
George Steiner, The Portage to San Cristobal of A.H.
It was a glorious moment, noted Cosima, "when Richard, who was seated opposite me (on the little sofa beside the piano), suddenly crawled toward me across the floor and tried to kiss my feet. I seized his head and he tiptoed back to his seat, whispering . . .
Martin Gregor-Dellin, Richard Wagner: His Life, His Work, His Century.
. . . something . . .
William Shakespeare, Hamlet.
. . . about the faulty arrangement: "That is just like the Germans—always carrying on about Mozart, and then they produce such editions!"
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Tuesday, July 6, 1869).
' . . . When you find a thing like . . .
Natalie Bauer-Lechner, Recollections of Gustav Mahler.
. . . these transcription errors . . .
J.B. Chittick, What is HIV/AIDS?
. . . in your score, it's as if someone of noble birth were suddenly to discover a swineherd in his family tree!'
Natalie Bauer-Lechner, Recollections of Gustav Mahler.
The Professor . . .
Thomas Mann, Disorder and Early Sorrow.
. . . his cheek on his fist, in a thoughtful, Byronic pose . . .
Boris Pasternak, Dr. Zhivago.
. . . does not succeed in identifying it, though he listens attentively to the end, after which there is great applause . . .
Thomas Mann, Disorder and Early Sorrow.
After that the musicians play a late Beethoven quartet.
Herman Wouk, War and Remembrance.
Is that one of the Beethoven string quartets?
Daniel Ellsberg, Personal Communication with Gary Freedman.
"Yes!"
Philip T. Barford, Beethoven's Last Sonata.
“It must be! It must be!”
Daniel Gregory Mason, The Quartets of Beethoven.
What supernatural delight!
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust.
Beethoven. . . . There is something in him of Nietzsche's superman, long before Nietzsche.
Romain Rolland, Portrait of Beethoven in His Thirtieth Year.
How such a work makes me perfect! One becomes a "masterpiece" oneself.
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Case of Wagner.
There is no "message." Its "truth" is simply what it is.
Philip T. Barford, Beethoven's Last Sonata.
—how harmful for me is this Wagnerian orchestral tone! I call it sirocco. I break out into a disagreeable sweat. My good weather is gone. This music seems perfect to me. It approaches lightly, supplely, politely. It is pleasant, it does not sweat.
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Case of Wagner.
Everyone clapped, and ices and cool drinks were carried around the noisy, milling, shuffling crowd.
Boris Pasternak, Dr. Zhivago.
The reception-room was spacious and beautiful.
Thomas Mann, Tristan.
Its pistachio-colored curtain, gleaming piano top, aquarium, olive-green upholstery, and potted plants resembling seaweed made it look like a green, sleepily swaying sea bed.
Boris Pasternak, Dr. Zhivago.
A gilt bamboo jardiniere, in which the primulas and cinerarias were punctually renewed, blocked the access to the bay window . . .
Edith Wharton, The Age of Innocence.
—When we are talking about the attachment of certain Jews to him, he [Wagner] says, "Yes, they are like flies—the more one drives them away, the more they come."
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Sunday, September 12, 1880).
Wagner . . .
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust (Part II).
. . . says he respects . . .
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Thursday, December 21, 1871).
. . . the conductor, Levi . . .
G.B. Shaw on Parsifal.
. . . though, . . .
William Shakespeare, Hamlet.
. . . for the very reason that he calls himself Levi straight out, not Lowe or Lewin, etc.
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Thursday, December 21, 1871).
At least he kept his name. Not like the others who try to hide their origins.
Charles Wood, Wagner.
I could not help thinking. . . .

This acute remnant of an unresolved father conflict, attached as it was to something as personal as one's name, makes it understandable why . . .
K.R. Eissler, Talent and Genius.
My! what's that? Is he out of his mind? Where does he get such thoughts from?
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
Talent, but no genius.
Cosima Wagner's Diaries (Friday, January 7, 1870).
Waste of time.
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
Wagner was going into his room without paying any attention to me when the maid . . .
Hugo Wolf, Letter to His Parents.
. . . Mademoiselle Fischer, . . .
Honore de Balzac, Cousin Bette.
. . . said to him in a beseeching voice: “Ah, Herr Wagner, it is a young musician who wishes to speak to you; he has been waiting for you a long time.”
Hugo Wolf, Letter to His Parents.
I cannot bring myself to see him now.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust.
The young lady nodded her head . . .
Isaac Asimov, Treasury of Humor.
. . . Ah, Herr Wagner, . . .
Hugo Wolf, Letter to His Parents.
“All right! All right!”
James Joyce, An Encounter.
The boy has waited long and patiently; he must not leave unsatisfied.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust.
I had to wait in a lofty drawing-room with three long windows from floor to ceiling that were like three luminous and bedraped columns. The bent gilt legs and backs of the furniture shone in indistinct curves. The tall marble fireplace had a cold and monumental whiteness. A grand piano stood massively in a corner; with dark gleams on the flat surfaces like a sombre and polished sarcophagus. A high door opened—closed.
Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness.
He then came out of his room, . . .
Hugo Wolf, Letter to His Parents.
I rose.
Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness.
[He] looked at me, and said: “I have seen you before, I think. You are . . .”
Hugo Wolf, Letter to His Parents.
. . . Rabenstein?
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust.
Ah, no, no!
Richard Wagner, Letter to Mathilde Wesendonk (April 7, 1858).
. . . pardon the slip!
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
. . . Raben?
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust.
I must confess that . . .
Primo Levi, The Periodic Table.
. . . I was born . . .
Matt Ridley, Genome: The Autobiography of a Species in 23 Chapters.
. . . Rabensteiner, . . .
Franz Kafka, The Trial.
. . . a Jew:
Primo Levi, The Periodic Table.
. . . but I sign . . .
Arthur Rubinstein, My Young Years.
. . .Raben . . .
Richard Wagner, Gotterdammerung.
. . . as a pen name . . .
E. James Lieberman, Acts of Will.
. . . now and then.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust.
I thought as much!
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
For a moment the old man was silent.
Edgar Rice Burroughs, Tarzan and the Jewels of Opar.
I looked at him, lost in astonishment.
Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness.
There was something electric about him. It was as if he had single-handedly changed the molecular structure of the room. It struck me that what I’d heard about certain celebrities was true: they had It, whatever the hell It was. Star power isn’t a myth; it is tangible and forceful.
Michael Bergin, The Other Man: A Love Story. John F. Kennedy Jr., Carolyn Bessette, & Me.
He went in front of me and opened the door of the reception room, which was furnished in a truly royal style. In the middle of the room was a couch covered in velvet and silk. Wagner himself was wrapped in a long velvet mantle bordered with fur. When I was inside the room he asked me what I wanted.
Hugo Wolf, Letter to His Parents.
If one could only get some pointers, . . .
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust.
. . . Maestro, . . .
Pierre-Auguste Rodin, Letter to an Unknown Friend.
. . . it would be easier to grope one’s way ahead.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust.
What are you saying?
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
“Highly honored master, for a long time I have wanted to hear an opinion on my compositions, and it would be . . .”

Here the master interrupted me and said: “My dear child, I cannot give you an opinion of your compositions; I have far too little time; . . .
Hugo Wolf, Letter to His Parents.
My thoughts are minutes.
Dava Sobel, Longitude: The True Story of a Lone Genius Who Solved the Greatest Scientific Problem of His Time quoting Shakespeare.
. . . I can't even get my own letters written. I understand nothing at all about music (Ich verstehe gar nichts von der Musik).”

I asked the master whether I should ever be able really to do anything, and he said to me:

“When I was your age and composing music, no one could tell me then whether I should ever do anything great. You could at most play me your compositions on the piano; but I have no time to hear them. When you are older, and when you have bigger works, and if by chance . . .
Hugo Wolf, Letter to His Parents.
. . . we meet again . . .
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust.
. . . you shall show me what you have done. But that is no use now; I cannot give you an opinion of them yet.”
Hugo Wolf, Letter to His Parents.
It was inconceivable how he had existed, how he had succeeded in getting so far. . . . "I went a little farther," he said, "then still a little farther—till I had gone so far that I . . .
Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness.
—well, never mind.”
Edgar B.P. Darlington, The Circus Boys on the Flying Rings.
'"I had immense plans," he muttered irresolutely.
Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness.
He added seriously:
Primo Levi, Beyond Judgement.
“I have never been to any university, neither have I ever heard a classroom lecture, and one of the greatest difficulties I . . .
Herbert Kupferberg, The Mendelssohns: Three Generations of Genius (quoting Moses Mendelssohn).
. . . like the rest of mankind and perhaps even more so; . . .
K.R. Eissler, Talent and Genius.
. . . one of the greatest difficulties I had to surmount was that I had to obtain everything by my own effort and industry.”
Herbert Kupferberg, The Mendelssohns: Three Generations of Genius (quoting Moses Mendelssohn).
When I told that master that I took the classics as models, he said: “Good, good. One can't be original at first.” And he laughed and then said. “I wish you, dear friend, much happiness in your career. Go on working steadily, and if . . .
Hugo Wolf, Letter to His Parents.
. . . we should meet again . . .
Anton Chekhov, The Sea Gull.
. . . show me your compositions.”

Upon that I left the master, profoundly moved and impressed.
Hugo Wolf, Letter to His Parents.
I said to myself:
Wilkie Collins, The Legacy of Cain.
How decent of so great a personage to be so human with . . .
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust.
. . . a burning amateur, . . .
William Golding, Free Fall.
. . . like me.
L. Frank Baum, The Wizard of Oz.
The communication was brief . . .
Thomas Hardy, Jude the Obscure.
. . . (not worth mentioning), but the memory remained—I knew at that moment that I would never forget it and simultaneously I knew or thought I knew . . .
Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena.
. . . what the others . . .
Edith Nesbit, The Story of the Treasure Seekers.
. . . the rest of the tribe . . .
Jack London, To The Man on the Trail.
. . . would say.
Edith Nesbit, The Story of the Treasure Seekers.
I dashed to the library at the first opportunity;
Primo Levi, The Periodic Table.
Once there, . . .
Booker T. Washington, Up From Slavery.
. . . I turned with respect to . . .
Primo Levi, The Periodic Table.
. . . Hermann Levi—
Peter Gay, Freud, Jews, and Other Germans.
Levi, . . .
Primo Levi, The Periodic Table.
. . . who was by no means free of vanity or unaware of his own position, . . .
Herbert Kupferberg, The Mendelssohns: Three Generations of Genius.
. . . that is, as . . .
Aldous Huxley, Crome Yellow.
. . . a Jew in a gentile world, . . .
Peter Gay, Freud, Jews, and Other Germans.
. . . looked at me with an amused, vaguely ironic expression:
Primo Levi, The Periodic Table.
. . . ambivalent at its heart.
Peter Gay, Freud, Jews, and Other Germans.
He said:
Genesis.
My friend, you . . .
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust.
. . . could throw away . . .
Sigmund Freud, Letter to His Fiancée.
. . . all things—
George Gordon, Lord Byron, Excerpt from Don Juan.
. . . make common cause with . . .
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust.
. . . the devil . . .
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nòrnberg.
. . . as one would carry on a love affair.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust.
And all for what?
Wilkie Collins, The Evil Genius.
—and all for an old man;
Edwin Arlington Robinson, The Three Taverns.
. . . for a great moment . . .
Sigmund Freud, Letter to His Fiancée.
—one moment . . .
K.R. Eissler, Talent and Genius.
. . . with such a person . . .
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust.
. . . as Wagner
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Case of Wagner.
But then, . . .
Emile Zola, The Debacle.
. . . Wagner’s disciples . . .
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Case of Wagner.
. . . whether Jew or gentile . . .
Peter Gay, Freud, Jews, and Other Germans.
. . . were all . . .
Wilkie Collins, The Evil Genius.
. . . like that, and remained like that, always.
Peter Gay, Freud: A Life for Our Time.
At the end of the evening . . .
Ernest Newman, The Life of Richard Wagner.
. . . Wagner and Nietzsche . . .
Martin Gregor-Dellin, Richard Wagner: His Life, His Work His Century.
. . . went outside. The moon had risen.
Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness.
. . . the darkness was punctuated by the distant howls of dogs . . .
Primo Levi, The Periodic Table.
Please, where do you want to go now?
Sigmund Freud, The Interpretation of Dreams.
Do you want to accompany? or go on ahead? or go off alone?
Friedrich Nietzsche, Twilight of the Idols.
The patient . . .
Homer, The Odyssey.
Nietzsche
Friedrich Nietzsche, Nietzsche contra Wagner.
. . .answered:
Homer, The Odyssey.
We'll go together.
Arrigo Boito, Falstaff.
Wagner was not in the best of moods, and . . .
Martin Gregor-Dellin, Richard Wagner: His Life, His Work His Century.
. . . just as . . .
Henry James, Washington Square.
. . . the clock has struck eleven . . .
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nòrnberg.
. . . Nietzsche found himself being driven back . . .
Martin Gregor-Dellin, Richard Wagner: His Life, His Work, His Century.
. . . home . . .
Homer, The Odyssey.
. . . "through a drizzle" by his host and hostess.
Martin Gregor-Dellin, Richard Wagner: His Life, His Work, His Century.
Now they drove in silence, their lips tightly closed against the cold, occasionally exchanging a word or two, and absorbed in their own thoughts.
Boris Pasternak, Dr. Zhivago.
Wagner’s comments were . . .
National Commission on Service-Learning: A Report from the First Meeting.
. . . limited to three phrases: “Eleven o’clock,” “I don’t agree,” and “goodbye.”
Elmer Bendiner, A Time For Angels: The Tragicomic History of the League of Nations.
After they had said goodnight, Wagner angrily censured him to Cosima.
Martin Gregor-Dellin, Richard Wagner: His Life, His Work, His Century.
I do not belong to those who demand that anyone should be chained and sell themselves forever out of 'gratitude.' He has been given a great deal and accomplished much in return.
Sigmund Freud, Letter to Sandor Ferenczi.
He goes his own way.
Richard Wagner, Die Walkure.
So quits!
Sigmund Freud, Letter to Sandor Ferenczi.
Let him visit me no more.
John N. Burk, The Life and Works of Beethoven quoting Beethoven.
I saw no occasion for expressing my special tenderness; I was honest and hard. But he is gone now and we have to bury him . . .
Sigmund Freud, Letter to Sandor Ferenczi.
And isn't now precisely the moment when, insofar as we comprehend this, it is all over?
Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil.
A new beginning, after that farewell?
Thomas Mann, Doctor Faustus.
“Never.”
Wilkie Collins, The Evil Genius.
A return—after that parting? Impossible!
Thomas Mann, Doctor Faustus.
Nietzsche later wrote . . .
Robert W. Gutman, Richard Wagner: The Man, His Mind, and His Music.
I thought his memory was like the other memories of the dead that accumulate in every man's life—a vague impress on the brain of shadows that had fallen on it in their swift and final passage; but before the high and ponderous door, between the tall houses of a street as still and decorous as a well-kept alley in a cemetery. I had a vision of him opening his mouth voraciously . . .
Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness.
. . . the way Homer renders a heart-eating cyclops . . .
Toni Morrison, Playing in the Dark: Whiteness and the Literary Imagination.
. . . as if to devour all the earth with all its mankind. He lived then before me; he lived as much as he had ever lived – a shadow insatiable of splendid appearances, of frightful realities; a shadow darker than the shadow of night, and draped nobly in the fields of a gorgeous eloquence. The vision seemed to enter the house with me –
Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness.
In an instant the streets became totally black.
Marcel Proust, Remembrance of Things Past.
With the weight of the world on his shoulders, he disappeared from view . . .
Martin Gregor-Dellin, Richard Wagner: His Life, His Work, His Century.
. . . into the night air. Into the cold.
John Le Carre, The Spy Who Came in From the Cold.
He merely looked back with the expression of a thousand warriors down through time.
Truddi Chase, When Rabbit Howls.
The full moon comes out . . .
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
. . .and, for . . ..
Wilkie Collins, The Evil Genius.
. . . an unforgettable moment . . .
Hermann Levi, Letter to His Father (Rabbi Levi of Giessen).
. . . the now peaceful alley . . .
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
. . . glittered in a still and dazzling splendour . . .
Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness.
All's hushed as midnight yet.
William Shakespeare, The Tempest.
The watchman walks slowly up the alley, and disappears round the corner.
Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nurnberg.
The dog howls, the moon shines. Sooner would I die, die rather than tell you what my midnight heart thinks now.
Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra.
That evening finally put an end to my illusions.
Hermann Hesse, Magister Ludi: The Glass Bead Game.
I was anxious to deal with this shadow by myself alone,—and to this day I don't know why I was so jealous of sharing with anyone the peculiar blackness of that experience.
Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness.
That's all I'm going to tell about. I could probably tell you what I did after I went home . . . but I don't feel like it. I really don't.
J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye.