CHAPTER XVIII

'PARSIFAL'; THE END; THE MAN

I

After Wagner had completed the _Ring_, a work which, in regard to its

gigantic size and proportions, stands without a parallel in music, he

was an exhausted and beaten man. Outwardly he was a highly prosperous

musician--more successful from some points of view than Mendelssohn or

Meyerbeer: at least he had, without means, achieved a greater triumph

than they, starting with their fathers' thousands or millions, had

dreamed of. No Mendelssohn, no Meyerbeer, no Rossini, would have

dreamed of gaining a king, even the king of a minor bankrupt state, as

his lackey--and his generous paymaster. After the first Bayreuth

festival a Rossini would have retired as swiftly as such a person

could with his percentage of the gross profits, leaving the guarantors

to straighten the little matter of the deficit; Meyerbeer had too much

of cold cunning in him to have gone on such an adventure at all;

Mendelssohn would have paid up everything and shaken the dust of _his_

Bayreuth off his feet for ever and a six-days week longer. I take

these three because they are three of the most successful financial

composers the world has seen; minor prophets of their order might be

added. That is what they would have done: made a little money they

did not need and retired from a hard conflict. Wagner was more

successful than they. He never accumulated the thousands of marks or

ducats or francs that they did: he did not want them, but in

proportion to his needs he accumulated more; he was richer than they

were, as Diogenes in his tub was richer than Alexander. Wagner's tub,

it may be remarked, was a preciously comfortable one, and he made no

pretence about it being anything else. He was a successful man of

business; in spirit he was broken, exhausted, defeated.

That is the first point to be considered; the next is a corollary.

This man of dashed, broken hopes still needed the driving force of

either human passions, griefs or sorrows, or of great human ideals,

before he could compose ten notes. It is no desire of mine to scoff at

the Schopenhauerian, Feuerbachian notions working in Wagner's brain

when he planned the _Ring_, and wrote its finest music; in art--as in

business, if it comes to that--one judges by results and results only.

But we can see that it was these ridiculous ideas, as perhaps I have

already pointed out, that were the postilion's whip to Wagner's

Pegasus. Of some men it can be said that no one knows anything of the

postilion's whip: of every artist concerning whom a fair tail of facts

is available and consultable we find a very distinct whip. We may

laugh at the idea of the "stories" to which Beethoven worked: who

would laugh at the Fifth Symphony would not even be laughed at. And I

have not the slightest hesitation in affirming that when Wagner set

to work on _Parsifal_ his most eager and greedy desire was to show the

world that he desired nothing. Knowing Bayreuth a failure, fancying

his whole life a failure, from a particular point of view, one idea

seized hold on him--- the idea that those who did not like his music

were in a pitiable condition, and compassion exhorted him to rescue

them, to redeem them. He meant to heap coals of fire upon a generation

that refused to recognise him as a prophet. He did it--with a double

vengeance: he made the detractors come to his knees and he made a

fortune out of them--them alone. For Bayreuth never became a

profitable investment for Jewish money until the one great Christian

drama of modern times was produced there.

_Parsifal_, in one form or another, had long fermented in Wagner's

brain. At first it was--incongruous though the thing may seem--either

_Jesus of Nazareth_ or _Wieland the Smith_; then _Parzival_ grew out

of the Siegfried idea; and at length, stimulated by the attentions and

help of poor Ludwig, he settled on _Parsifal_. These are matters not

of opinion, but of historical fact. Ludwig, when not masquerading in

woman's clothing, or ordering it from Paris, or appearing at private

performances in one opera or another, suffered from great attacks of

religion; and, unhappily for the art of music, what appealed to his

diseased brain from one side appealed to Wagner's tired brain from the

other side. Ludwig asked him to complete _Parsifal_ and he did so. I

doubt whether without the royal request he ever would have done so.

But in doing so he, as Americans say, "struck lucky." Throughout

Western Europe you have only to bawl the word "religion" and your

fortune is made; in America it is the same; on the two continents

innumerable fortunes have been made by bawling the word "religion." So

Wagner's conviction, Ludwig's desire, and advertisement possibilities,

all coincided; and thenceforth Bayreuth flourished--financially, if

not artistically or morally.

I shall devote little attention to _Parsifal_. The plot would disgrace

Wagner's memory if we did not know it to be the work of his tired-out

old age. The central idea is that of Renunciation; and I will give the

reader a skeleton, but a fair skeleton, of the plot, and ask him, Who

renounces anything? who gains anything by renouncing? or loses

anything by not renouncing? and, above all, what is any one called on

to renounce?

At the Montsalvat of _Lohengrin_--ah! what a different

Montsalvat--Amfortas, lord of the tribe of monks, has flirted with a

lady, and a magician, Klingsor, has seized the sacred spear with which

Christ's side was pierced and inflicted on Amfortas an incurable

wound. That is the state of affairs when the curtain rises. Gurnemanz,

a faithful warder, talks with sundry squires, not yet fully degraded

to the order of knighthood, and tells them how through a certain

wondrous woman Amfortas fell from his high estate. The wondrous woman,

Kundry, disguised as a sort of Indian squaw, enters, coming, she says,

from far lands; exhausted, she flings herself in a thicket to

sleep--sleep--she says. Gurnemanz does not know who she is--nor, for

that small matter, do I--but she comes and serves these knight-monks

faithfully for whiles and then disappears; and generally, it seems,

during her period of disappearance disaster falls on some treasured

pearl of a saint of a knight. Enter Parsifal, "the pure

fool"--Siegfried with all his bull-strength and energy shorn away. He

carries a bow and arrow, and promptly shoots a Swan, one of the prides

of Montsalvat. He is too stupid to understand that he has done any

wrong--wrong to a helpless bird or his own nature. Gurnemanz explains

in very unconvincing accents; Parsifal, the poor, "pure" fool, bursts

into tears, breaks his weapons and throws them away. And now the

reader must bear with me if I am both tedious and inexplicable in my

explanation. At some unknown period in the past it was prophesied that

only the "pure fool" taught by suffering could redeem suffering

Amfortas: mankind, that is, could only be made perfect by a perfect

idiot. Gurnemanz thinks he has found the required man--and he has, if

only he knew it--and he takes him on the most curious promenade in the

history of mankind--to the Hall of the Grail. The two men do not walk:

it is the scenery that walks. "Here," says Gurnemanz, "time and space

are one."

Arrived there, we are confronted by a scene much more Oriental than

anything we know of mediæval Christianity: a sort of mosque with a

huge dome, a circular set of Lockhart's Cocoa-rooms tables and

benches; at the back a mysterious catafalque. The pure fool is pushed

aside; Amfortas is carried in; he screams in agony of spirit; and then

the service begins. It is a sheer burlesque of the Lord's Supper. When

the last chords of the mysterious choir in the dome have died away,

Gurnemanz asks Parsifal what he comprehends of it all. "Nothing,"

Parsifal replies, and is immediately turned out of doors.

The origin of the guileless fool has already been indicated: this--as

it seems to us to-day--idiotic notion of the eighteenth century

started Wagner on the notion that if a modern child, with all the

developed brain of a modern child, could suddenly be transplanted into

a state of nature, all would be well with the world. What could

possibly happen? But it is silly to ask the question: the whole

juvenile population of the earth would have to be so transplanted, and

they would have to find a new earth to live on--at least an earth not

frequented by modern men and women.

In the next Act we are taken to Klingsor's magic castle. Klingsor

calls up Kundry and changes his castle into an enchanted garden full

of flower-maidens; Parsifal comes in, and, though curious about the

maidens, does not know what they would be at; he angrily drives them

off; Kundry calls him. She tells him of the death of his mother who

had loved him so dearly; he again weeps and learns the meaning of

compassion; Kundry kisses him, and he learns the meaning of sex and

temptation. In horror he casts her from him; Klingsor throws the spear

at him--the sacred Spear with which Christ's side was wounded, stolen

by Klingsor from Montsalvat--it remains suspended above his head; he

seizes and waves it, and at once garden, flower-maidens and all are

reduced to withered stalks and leaves. Parsifal returns, an

"enlightened" fool, and by touching the wound of Amfortas, cures him,

becoming himself head of the order.

The whole affair is a spectacle which I must say is disgusting to

healthy minds. The insinuations are frightful. Consider, reader,

seriously for a moment: Parsifal--Siegfried grown to manhood--knows

and cares nothing about womankind. As soon as he knows what a woman is

he revolts, learns through that knowledge and by his acquaintance with

suffering--acquaintance, I say, because he himself has never

suffered--that there are two cures for all the woes of humanity.

Discard women and pity the men. The thing is absurd, and suggests that

the mighty genius was on the verge of imbecility. But the desire to

please mad Ludwig accounts for it all in a very undesirable fashion.

Of the music it is not necessary to say more than that some of it is

fine. For the most part it lacks virility, though there are passages

of marvellous loveliness. The flower-maidens' waltz shows what Wagner

could do in that way; the Good Friday music, dating back to the

_Lohengrin_ days, is sweet and fresh. But the quasi-religious music

has no charms for me.

Of course the prelude is in its way, but only in its way, a beautiful

thing. One almost hears the beating of angels' wings; the remnant of

old church melody, fitted into the most modern of modern rhythms,

sings out; the old _Tannhäuser_ and _Rienzi_ Dresden Amen comes out

pompously if not very effectively. On the whole a splendid _tour de

force_ is accomplished. But as soon as the singers are introduced we

feel the lack of the inspiration of former days; the writing is not

vocal writing at all; it is simply notes chosen at will or at random

to fit in with the chord sequences that were constantly shaping

themselves in Wagner's brain--not sequences that sprang, as he himself

would have expressed it, from "the feeling." The woes of Amfortas are

described by the orchestra with a coldness that would have surprised

or stunned Wagner in his _Tristan_ days: had Meyerbeer done it no

paper would have carried his hot words. When Parsifal shoots the Swan,

Gurnemanz has two or three moments of true emotion: the rest ought to

be silence and is rubbish. The parody of the Lord's Supper is

deplorable: we have already heard enough of the music in the prelude

without having to go through it again. Klingsor's magic music is mere

theatricalism; about Kundry's account of Parsifal's mother I remain in

some doubt: it is certainly beautiful, but to those of us who know the

corresponding scene in _Siegfried_ it is rather beggarly. Parsifal's

denunciation of Kundry after she has kissed him has not a word of the

old truthful Wagner in it: Wagner had written so magnificently about

the ecstatic state of Palestrina and such of the other church

composers as he knew, that he must, absolutely must, have realised

that his _Parsifal_ stuff was essentially untrue. Theatrically, the

end of the Second Act sounds true; but it will not bear rehearing. The

opening of the Third Act, again, is false; and the ending of the whole

business is tawdry stuff such as Meyerbeer might have been proud to

sign. Technically, the old man retained his hand; but to compare this

decrepit stuff with the music of the _Valkyrie_ would be preposterous,

and I have no wish to write more about it.

II

_Parsifal_ having proved a tremendous success, Wagner went to work to

arrange for another festival. He had still a thousand opera plans

bubbling in his brain; doubtless, with his unconquerable vitality, he

imagined he had twenty years of life before him; he meant to make a

financial success of Bayreuth and to go on. The end came with awful

unexpectedness. He went to Venice, conducted there his boyish Symphony

in C, worked away at his _Parsifal_ arrangements; his heart ruptured

and he died on February 13, 1883. He had lived the perfectly rounded

life, achieved the three-score-and-ten, done everything that a man can

do, and gone through more experiences than most men suffer. His death

sent a shudder through Europe: one had come to think that such a man

could not possibly die. Swinburne wrote that we heard the news as "a

prophet who hears the word of God and may not flee." His vilest

detractors laid their homage at the dead man's feet. His widow laid

her hair by his head. He was buried at his Villa Wahnfried, and rests

there for ever. Had ever such a life so perfectly beautiful an ending?

We must regard _Parsifal_ as the last sad quaverings of a beloved

friend: after that came peace, immortal peace.

III

Amongst musicians of the first rank stand four commanding, tremendous

figures. First comes Handel, by far the greatest personality of them

all: him I beg permission to think the greatest man who has yet

lived--greater than Cæsar or Napoleon. After him came Gluck, a

triumphant bourgeois; then Beethoven, whose domination was the result

of his supreme genius and his bad temper; and, last, Wagner, whose

supreme genius and indomitable perseverance made him either an idol or

a terror to all who came in contact with him. Handel had an easy time;

he was of his period, he wrote for it, and only his native pugnacity

landed him in bankruptcy, and enabled him finally to win a fortune by

oratorio when no one would listen any longer to his operas. Gluck was

from the first a popular composer: there were rows, it is true, but

they did not concern him; he had always an assured public. Beethoven

had throughout his working life an ample pension and the friendship of

princes. Wagner had no such friends until he was sixty years old; he

had no pension; he offended every opera director in Germany by telling

those gentry that they knew nothing of their business; he got mixed up

with revolutionists, and, mainly because he was a man of unusual

ability, was regarded as dangerous by every bureaucrat. He was fast

becoming a popular composer; and he left his successes behind him and

went on to change opera in a fashion never attempted by Gluck or any

other composer. He was the most consummate contrapuntist of his age:

therefore the critics and professors declared he knew nothing about

counterpoint. He wrote the loveliest melodies of the nineteenth

century: therefore it was generally agreed that the gift of melodic

invention had been denied him by a merciful Providence, who reserved

that gift for the Jews and their friends. He could hold neither his

tongue nor his pen; if a bull may be excused, he replied before he was

attacked, he hit back before he was struck. Proud as Satan, and

through his pride a beggar; giving the world unheard-of delights, and

yet dependent on the world for his bread; quarrelling with his

friends, picking quarrels with his supposed enemies, quarrelling with

his wife, running away with the wife of his best friend, theorising

about his art and promptly throwing his theories overboard, declaring

he would never allow excerpts from his operas to be given, nor even

one single opera of the _Ring_ to be given, and then allowing single

operas to be given and conducting excerpts himself--there never was in

the world such a mass of contradictions as this musical apostle of

universal peace born during the Napoleonic wars of 1813.

All this we may joyfully concede, knowing how much may be said on the

other side. Wagner not only was the most stupendous personage born

into the nineteenth century: he was also one of the noblest, most

generous men that have lived. There is not a mean trait in his

character. He endured privation, actual starvation; he was shamefully

treated; his wife did not believe in his genius; his simplest actions

were misinterpreted; frantic endeavours were made to hound him out of

the public life of opera; his publishers took advantage of his poverty

to try to rob him; the scores of his masterpieces were returned

unopened from theatres--in some cases they were not returned, and he

had infinite difficulty to secure them; moreover, he was ill all his

life: yet he never lost faith in mankind, and when he became,

comparatively, a well-to-do man he went on doing generous deeds as

though nothing had happened. With humbugs and pretenders he would have

no dealings; but no genuine young artist ever asked his help in vain.

He spared even that rancorous decadent Nietzsche; he owned his

obligations to that soul of chivalry, Liszt. He spared that mediocre

person Meyerbeer; he treated Mendelssohn with almost exaggerated

courtesy. He fought a terrific fight with all the forces of reaction

and stupidity, and he came through untainted, unstained; if he sorely

belaboured the charlatans, he had all the finest musicians, and all

other fine artists, on his side. The composer who won and held the

friendship and esteem of such men as Liszt, Cornelius, Jensen, Tausig

and Bülow, not to mention the admiration of our own Swinburne, is not

a man to be dismissed by enumerating his defects. Some of us, I

suppose, will admit that we may possibly have our defects: none of us,

so far as I know, can possibly claim his great qualities.

He was rather an undersized man with an uncontrollable temper. As he

let himself go in his music, so did he let himself go in his daily

life. To any but the most patient he must have proved an impossible

personage; Madame Cosima Wagner must have possessed the temper of an

angel and the understanding of an archangel to put up with him. We see

that every one did put up with him; every one who knew him had the

same faith in his genius as he himself had; every one who knew

him--really knew him--loved him. Those who did not know him belaboured

him in the press or by word of mouth, and much honour and profit did

they get by it. He stands unsmirched by the mud thrown by his

detractors; he stands undamaged even by the adulation of his admirers.

Let us consider for a moment what the man's personal character and

momentum enabled him to achieve. Finely endowed personalities like

Mozart and Chopin did much: did they write a _Ring_ or a _Tristan_?

The question needs no answer. Did they or the still mightier Beethoven

dream of creating a Bayreuth? In the midst of years of privation

Richard Wagner planned and partly executed the _Ring_; he completed

_Tristan_ and the _Mastersingers_; as quite a young man he had dreamed

of a Bayreuth; as an old man he turned his dream into a reality. He

had his lieutenants--big men always have their lieutenants--but the

idea, the purpose, and the force behind were his and nobody else's

than his. Bayreuth does not stand for very much to-day; in the

'seventies it stood for a fierce attack on the general sloppiness of

opera performances all the world over, for the setting up of an ideal

to which there is no parallel in the history of the art of music.

Nothing but the personal force of this one man accomplished this

thing--personal force accompanied by a wholehearted devotion to his

art. I suppose the inventors of steam-engines and the builders of

giant dams have an ideal, too, in their crazy craniums, but they

invent and work with a very definite idea of personal gain. Wagner

hoped for no gain, and he gained little, though, as I have said, as

much as he wanted. He was helped by the only noble-hearted king born

into the nineteenth century; but he found that king and inspired him.

He risked everything for his idea; if his works have grown to be

valuable assets since his death, they were not during his lifetime. By

unheard-of energy while suffering privation--even of the ordinary

necessities of life--he went on and created masterpieces, and then by

creating Bayreuth set up a standard of musical execution that no one

before him had thought possible. All the great conductors of the last

fifty years are, musically, his offspring. Without him we should have

been without a Richter, or Richter's introducer to the English, an

Alfred Schulz-Curtius; without these two men we should have no Robert

Newman or Henry J. Wood. Wagner's influence has been further-reaching

than many of us think; and that influence was due not more to the

consummate skill of the musician than to the character of the man.

Outside his musicianship the man had interests in everything human--in

painting, sculpture, drama, poetry and prose. He made what we consider

mistakes, as what man does not who is a product of a period of

passionate revivals of human and humanising ideals?--but how few they

are! They hardly count. He absorbed all the culture of all the

centuries. The Greek and Latin poets were as familiar to him as were

the English. Hardly a great book had been written which he did not

know familiarly. There is not a great picture or piece of sculpture in

Europe he did not know. All came as grist to his mill. I end this book

by joyfully hailing him as one of the half-dozen greatest minds the

ages have produced--the equal of Shakespeare, Handel, Mozart,

Beethoven and Michael Angelo: a man it is an honour to have known as

it is a disgrace to have scorned--the one man born into the last

century that one can absolutely, without reservation, praise.

INDEX

_Abendzeitung_ (Dresden), 75

Apel, August, 41, 51

Auber, D.F.E.,

_Masaniello_, 47, 89;

compared with Meyerbeer, 67, 68

Avenarius, Eduard,

marries Cäcilie Geyer, 72

Bakunin, Michael, 136, 196

Baumgärtner, Wilhelm, 209

Bayreuth, 71, 323, 325-329, 400, 407, 409, 410

Beethoven, Ludwig van, 25, 26, 330, 331, 347, 350, 356, 371, 408, 416;

his influence on Wagner, 33-35, 42, 62;

arrangements of, by Wagner, 37;

_Fidelio_, 148

Bellini, Vincenzo, 50, 92, 116, 150, 178

Bennett, Joseph, 328

Berlioz, Hector,

Wagner's criticism on, 71;

tragedy of his life, 72;

praises the _Flying Dutchman_, 128;

in London, 225;

his relations with Wagner, 226;

his "Ride to the Abyss," 370

Bethmann, Heinrich, 52, 54

Bispham, David, 277

Brahms, Johannes, 164

Brangaena, 245-248

Brazil,

Wagner receives a commission from, 230, 237

Brendel, Karl Franz, 50, 218

Brockhaus, Friedrich,

marries Louise Wagner, 32

Bülow, Cosima von,

and Wagner, 60, 323-325

Bülow, Hans von, 71, 250, 418;

serves his apprenticeship under Wagner, 208;

married to Cosima Liszt, 323, 324

_Communication to my Friends_, 219

Cornelius, Peter, 71, 418

Cusins, W.G., 46, 134

Dannreuther, Edward, 37, 67

Davison, J.W., 46

Dietsch, Pierre, 80

Dorn, Heinrich, 32, 37, 39, 40, 57

_Dusk of the Gods, The_, 178, 188, 325, 356, 373, 398;

analysis and criticism, 400-406

Dvoràk, Anton,

compared with Wagner, 291, 292

Elgar, Sir Edward, 291

_End in Paris, An_, 212, 213

_Europa_, 75

_Feen, Die_, 42, 47, 48, 50, 52, 56, 60-63. 72, 86, 93, 137

Feuerbach, Ludwig, 232, 408

Fischer, Wilhelm, 76, 126, 205, 206, 220, 231

_Flying Dutchman, The_, 65, 66, 80, 81, 127, 128, 137, 170,

187, 219, 243, 356, 385;

analysis and criticism, 94-120;

produced at Zurich, 208

_Gazette Musicale, La_, 70, 75

Gewandhaus Concerts, 33, 45, 46

Geyer, Cäcilie, 14, 16, 30, 72

Geyer, Ludwig, 4, 6-14;

marries Frau Wagner, 8; his death, 14

Geyer, goldsmith at Eisleben, 11, 17

Glasenapps _Life of Wagner_, 8, 16, 19, 39, 66, 167

Gluck, 416, 417;

his _Iphigenia in Aulis_ overture revised by Wagner, 209, 219

Goethe, J.W. von, _Die Laune des Verliebten_, 35

Götterdämmerung. _See_ Dusk of the Gods

Gottfried von Strassburg, _Tristan_, 238

Gozzi, _La Donna Serpente_, 60

Habeneck, F.A., 69, 70

Hallé, Sir Charles, 64, 73, 327

Handel, G.F., 11, 330, 331, 390, 416;

the "Horse and his Rider" chorus, 371, 372;

_Israel in Egypt_, 377

Hanslick, Eduard, 164

_Happy Evening, A_, 213

Harris, Sir Augustus, 346

Hauser, Franz, 49

Heine, Heinrich, 64, 66, 70, 76-78, 94, 126, 205, 206

Heubner, Otto, 196

_Hochzeit Die_, 45, 47

Hoffmann, E.T.A., 30

_Huldigungsmarsch_, 59

Jensen, Adolf, 71, 418

_Jesus of Nazareth_, 196

Jews, Wagner and the, 49, 50, 57, 217-219

Joly, Anténor, 69, 74

_Judaism in Music_, 31, 50, 134, 217-219

_Kaisermarsch_, 59

Kittl, Friedrich, 45

Laube, Heinrich, 51, 70

Lehrs, F. Siegfried, 72, 82, 128

Leitmotiv, discussion of the, 170, 356, 357

Lewald, August, 75

_Liebesverbot, Das_, 51, 53, 56, 72, 74, 86, 137

Liszt, Cosima. _See_ Wagner, Cosima

Liszt, Franz, 71, 128, 156, 237, 238, 348, 378, 388;

his first acquaintance with Wagner, 82, 83;

helps him to escape to Zurich, 136, 194;

produces _Tannhaüser_ at Weimar, 164;

sends him to Paris, 194;

his generosity and friendship, 195, 196, 199, 202, 208, 418;

produces _Lohengrin_, 200, 201, 210

_Lohengrin_, 72, 82, 128, 137, 196, 197, 219, 332, 341, 358, 375;

analysis and criticism, 165-192;

the leitmotiv first introduced, 170;

produced by Liszt at Weimar, 200, 201, 210

_Love-feast of the Apostles, The_, 38, 126

Ludwig II, King, 239, 319, 321, 322, 327-329, 395, 409, 410, 413

Lüttichau, von, 76, 77, 79, 80, 122, 123, 125

Lytton, Bulwer, _Rienzi_, 55, 84

Marschner, Heinrich August, 61, 62, 116, 150, 178, 187;

his _Adolph von Nassau_, 135

_Mastersingers, The_, 109, 111, 179, 279, 319-321, 325, 333,

341, 344, 358, 387, 388, 395, 398;

the story, 280, 281;

the influence of Nuremberg, 282, 283;

the overture, 284-288;

analysis and criticism, 288-318;

produced at Munich, 321

Mendelssohn, Felix, 33, 49, 57, 58, 73, 126, 364, 372, 407, 418;

_Midsummer Night's Dream_ overture, 61;

_Hebrides_, 112;

his comment on _Tannhäuser_, 163

Meyerbeer, Giacomo, 55, 407, 414, 415, 418;

_Robert the Devil_, 48;

his treatment of Wagner, 67-71, 73, 74, 80;

his influence on _Rienzi_, 84-86

Müller, Alexander, 196

Müller, Gottlieb, 36

_My Life_, 67

Napoleon I, his flight from Leipzig 4. 5, 31

Newman, Mr. Ernest, 130, 167, 212, 217

_Nibelung's Ring, The_. See _Ring_

Nicolai School, Leipzig, 27

Nietzsche, Friedrich, 52, 418

Overtures: "Polonia," 43;

D minor, 45;

C major, 45;

_King Enzio_, 45;

_Faust_, 62, 70, 209;

_Columbus_, 70, 75

_Parsifal_, 16, 138-140, 170, 379;

analysis and criticism, 409-416

Pätz, Johanna Rosina, 3

Pecht, Friedrich, 70

Pedro I, Emperor of Brazil, commissions an opera from Wagner, 230, 237

Philharmonic Society, the, 33, 45, 46, 134;

concerts conducted by Wagner, 220-226

_Pilgrimage to Beethoven, A_, 213

Pillet, Léon, 80

Planer, Minna, marries Wagner, 53, 54.

_See_ Wagner, Minna.

Poe, Edgar Allen, 330

Poland, Wagner's sympathy with, 41, 43

Praeger, Ferdinand, 43, 68, 200, 208, 225, 238

Raymund, his "magic dramas," 44

Reinecke, Carl, 33, 45, 46

Reissiger, Gottlieb, 77, 79, 123-125

_Rhinegold, The_, 209, 299, 350, 351, 354, 358, 376, 383, 385, 396;

composition of, 332-334;

analysis and criticism, 337-349

_Rienzi_, 55, 61, 62, 68, 69, 73, 74, 81, 82, 117, 127, 128;

completed and sent to Dresden, 75-80;

accepted, 80;

Meyerbeer's influence on, 84, 85;

analysis and criticism, 86-93;

its success, 91, 121;

a failure at Weimar, 237

Rietz, Julius, portrait of Wagner by, 206

_Ring of the Nibelung, The_, 105, 111, 137,176, 207-209, 226-230,

320, 323, 325, 378;

first cycle given at Bayreuth, 327-329;

summary of its growth, 330-334;

analysis of its main dramatic motive, 334-337;

Schopenhauer's criticism, 342,

_see_ also the separate operas

Ritter, Alexander, 208

Ritter, Frau, 199, 208

Roeckel, August, 126, 132, 133, 196

Rossini, G.A., 55, 407;

_William Tell_, 47;

_Stabat Mater_, 213

Sainton, Prof., 225

_Sängerkrieg auf Wartburg_, 72, 82, 128

_Saracen Young Woman_, 81, 82

Schlesinger, Maurice, 69, 70, 75, 82, 121

Schopenhauer,

his influence on Wagner, 231-233, 236, 265, 408;

his criticism on the _Ring_, 342, 397

Schröder-Devrient, Wilhelmine, 50, 76-79, 160

Schubert's _Erl-king_, 355

Schumann, Clara, 45

Schumann, Robert, 51;

on _Tannhäuser_, 163, 164;

on _Lohengrin_, 165, 177

Scribe, Eugène, 74, 85, 97

Semper, Gottfried, 325

Shaw, Mr. Bernard, 20

Shedlock, Mr. J.S., 220

_Siegfried_, 200-202, 227-230, 325, 332, 414;

analysis and criticism, 378-399

_Siegfried's Death_, 227-230, 332, 334, 383

_Siegfried Idyll_, 59, 60

Spohr, Ludwig, 294, 350;

produces the _Flying Dutchman_ at Cassel, 127;

on _Tannhäuser_, 149, 272

Spontini, Gasparo, 62, 116, 150, 178, 187;

Wagner's essay on, 219

Strauss, Johann, 44

Sulzer, Jakob, 209

Symphony in C major, 41, 42, 44, 45, 56-59, 72, 73, 415

Swinburne, A.C., 415, 418

_Tannhäuser_, 30, 60, 72, 82, 92, 128, 137-140, 219,

341, 343, 358, 376, 384. 385;

analysis and criticism, 140-164;

production and reception, 147, 148;

opinions on, 163, 164;

produced by Liszt at Weimar, 164

Tausig, Karl, 71, 418

Thomä, Jeannette, 23

Tichatschek, 78, 147

Tieck, Ludwig, _Tannhäuser_, 30

Tomaschek, Wenzel, 45

"Triebschen," 323, 395

_Tristan_, 105, 106, 109, 111, 137, 187, 333, 341, 343, 344,

353, 365, 375. 377, 395, 398, 399, 414;

rehearsed at Vienna and abandoned, 231;

folly of commentators on, 234-236, 266;

intended for Rio, 230, 237;

completed, 230, 238;

produced at Munich (1865), 237, 239, 321;

origin of, 237, 238;

preliminaries of the story, 239-241;

analysis and criticism, 241-277

Uhlig, Theodor, 126, 145, 195, 200, 202, 205, 219, 226, 231, 283, 329, 383

Vaez, Gustave, 203

_Valkyrie, The_, 209, 226, 230, 294, 332, 333, 341, 343, 344, 383,

385, 388, 389, 398;

analysis and criticism, 350-377

Verdi's _Falstaff_, 311

Victoria, Queen, and Wagner, 222, 223

Villa Wahnfried, 326

Wagner, Adolph, 2, 3, 10, 13, 15, 16, 17, 22, 23, 28, 29, 30, 32, 41

Wagner, Albert, 7, 8, 10, 16, 22, 24, 48

Wagner, Carl Friedrich, father of Richard, 2-5;

his death, 5, 8

Wagner, Clara, 10, 16, 22, 24

Wagner, Cosima, second wife of Richard, 60, 323-325, 419

Wagner, Friederike, 23

Wagner, Gottlob Friedrich, 3

Wagner, Johanna, daughter of Albert, 160

Wagner, Johanna Rosina, mother of Richard, 3, 5, 6, 8, 14,15, 16, 24, 28

Wagner, Julius, 10, 11, 16

Wagner, Louise, 7, 10, 24, 30, 31, 32

Wagner, Minna, first wife of Richard, 53, 54, 65, 121, 122, 126, 127,

128, 133, 168, 169, 195, 207, 323-325

Wagner, Ottilie, 16, 30

Wagner, Richard (for Works see under separate headings),

birth and ancestry, 1-3;

absence of precocity, 11 12;

schooldays at Dresden, 17-24;

early training in theatrical matters, 18-19;

his love of the theatre, 21;

Weber's influence, 25;

at school at Leipzig, 26, 40;

his debt to his uncle, 28-30, 41;

unable to play the piano, 31, 37, 73;

"converted" by Beethoven, 33-35;

early compositions, 35. 36. 45;

studies under Weinlig, 36-38;

his arrangements of Beethoven symphonies, 37;

helped by his family 38, 44, 51;

his egotism, 39;

matriculates, 40;

his revolutionary fervour, 40, 41, 43;

visits Vienna, 44;

at Prague, 45;

works performed at the Gewandhaus concerts, 45;

chorus-master at Würzburg, 48;

returns to Leipzig, 49;

his industry, 52, 53, 209, 298;

his marriage, 53, 54;

obtains conductorships at Magdeburg, 53, Königsberg, and Riga, 54;

sails to London, 55, 64-67;

meets Meyerbeer at Boulogne, 67-69;

disappointments in Paris, 69-75;

goes to Dresden, 82, 83;

first acquaintance with Liszt, 82, 83;

Kapellmeister at Dresden, 122-126, 133-135;

his relations with Minna, 126, 127, 133, 168-169, 323, 324;

his political views, 128-131;

his share in the May insurrection of 1849, 128, 131, 132, 136;

his Germanism, 135, 149, 150, 214;

flees to Zurich, 136, 193, 194;

goes to Paris, 194, 195;

returns to Zurich, 196;

friendship of Liszt, 194, 196, 199;

his demands on his friends, 198-200;

his ill-health, 200;

his scheme for producing _Siegfried_, 200-202, 227-229;

third visit to Paris, 203-207;

life in Zurich, 207-210;

his prose-writings, 210;

speech at the re-interment of Weber, 214;

his theory on the fusion of the arts, 214-216;

unable to comprehend opposition, 217;

directions for performing his operas, 219;

visit to London, 220-226;

settles in Vienna, 230, 320;

his extravagance, 231;

influence of Schopenhauer, 231-233, 236, 265;

disappointments and failures, 278, 319, 320;

the chief Wagnerite, 287;

invited to Munich by King Ludwig, 319, 321;

ambitious schemes, 321, 322;

obliged to leave Munich, 322, 323;

retires to "Triebschen," 323, 395;

elopes with Cosima von Bülow, 323, 324;

marries Cosima, 325;

Bayreuth, 325-329;

his worship of brute force, 378, 379;

completion of the _Ring_, 400, 407;

outward success, 407;

his death, 415;

his character and achievement, 416-421

Wagner, Rosalie, 7, 10, 15, 16, 22, 24, 32, 39

Wagner, Siegfried, 71

Wagner, Sophie (Wendt), 23

Wagnerites, the, 287

Walther von der Vogelweide, 294

Weber, Carl Maria von, 13, 55, 350, 372, 390;

his influence on Wagner, 13, 25, 34, 35, 41, 61, 92, 150,

153, 177, 185, 284;

his re-interment at Dresden, 135, 213 214;

_Euryanthe_, 13, 38, 305;

_Der Freischütz_, 13, 25

Weber, Dionys, 45, 46

Weinlig, Theodor, 36-38, 57

Wendt, Sophie, marries Adolph Wagner, 23

Wesendoncks, the, 199, 208

Wieck, Clara, _see_ Schumann, Clara

Wigand, Otto, 205

_Wiland der Schmied_, 203, 206, 207

Wilhelmj, August, 328

Wille, Dr. and Frau, 208

Wüst, Henriette, 45

Wylde, Dr. Henry, 225

_Young Siegfried_, 227-229

Zigesar, von, 201

Richard Wagner, Composer of Operas · 第 18 / 18 章