What a surprise this Rhine climate has been – the people say it hardly ever snows. Not being myself, I saw Dr., and he has given me orders to starve and keep quiet. I have been treated to a delicious draught of castor oil, and have a box of pills for future reference.
9 p.m. Back from the Flying Dutchman. Being seedy and sitting next to a Canadian ass who made long remarks in the midst of the performance, I could not give it my best attention. The scenery in the first and third acts was amazing and, the music was no means behind it; tremendous bursts and crashings upon the unready ear, weird winding undercurrents of meaningful harmony – delightful and unexpected melodies – all Wagnerian, yet with an element of immaturity. One requires several hearings to properly appreciate these works.