Nothing but unpleasantness. The architect has got the service accommodation completely wrong, complaints, on top of that paper-hanger bunglings, and ever-mounting costs! But fortunately R. is able to work.
R. goes through Götterdämmerung with Richter in the afternoon, various parts of Die Walküre with the other musicians in the evening. R. again had wild dreams, among others that I set a fierce black cat on him! My mind is filled with the death of my friend—yesterday I drafted an obituary, but whom, when one talks about her in public, is one addressing? … —
Our American sends us his article about the theater, very correct; this brings us to the subject of America, and R. says: “One might feel inclined to expect a lot from this quarter if experience did not show that every culture is bound up with the narrowest national feeling. But perhaps America doesn’t feel the need for so-called culture, in which case the humanity of these democratic gentlemen might emerge.” During Die Walküre he exclaimed: “Siegmund is interested in nothing except Sieglinde, wants to know what’s the matter with her, whether she has a pain in her side and so on” (I had been suffering such pains in the past few days). —
Fidi surprises and even alarms us by doing arithmetic, 7 X 7, 9 X 9, 3 X 9—nobody has taught him this. R. says he never had such tendencies.