Was ever work like mine created for no purpose? Am I a miserable
egotist, possessed of stupid vanity? It matters not, but of this I
feel positive; yes, as positive as that I live, and this is, my
"Tristan and Isolde," with which I am now consumed, does not find
its equal in the world's library of music. Oh, how I yearn to hear
it; I am feverish; I am worn. Perhaps that causes me to be agitated
and anxious, but my "Tristan" has been finished now these three
years and has not been heard. When I think of this I wonder whether
it will be with this as with "Lohengrin," which now is thirteen
years old, and is still dead to me. But the clouds seem breaking,
they are breaking--I am going to Vienna soon. There they are going
to give me a surprise. It is supposed to be kept a secret from me,
but a friend has informed me that they are going to bring out
"Lohengrin."
--_Wagner in a Letter to Praeger_