My Life, vol 2 | Page 8

he
did not press me to give it. It was a superficial article, without any true
comprehension of the subject, and couched in most arrogant terms. I
felt that if it appeared in this particular journal it would certainly
demand inconvenient and wearisome rejoinders from me, in which I
should have to restate my original thesis. As I was by no means
inclined to enter upon such a controversy, I agreed to Kolatschek's
proposal, and suggested that he had better return the manuscript to its
author for publication elsewhere.
Through Kolatschek I also learned to know Reinhold Solger, a really
excellent and interesting man. But it did not suit his restless and
adventurous spirit to remain cooped up in the small and narrow Swiss
world of Zurich, so that he soon left us and went to North America,
where I heard that he went about giving lectures and denouncing the
political situation in Europe. It was a pity that this talented man never
succeeded in making a name for himself by more important work. His
contributions to our monthly journal, during the brief term of his stay in
Zurich, were certainly among the best ever written on these topics by a
German.
In the new year, 1851, Georg Herwegh also joined us, and I was
delighted to meet him one day at Kolatschek's lodgings. The
vicissitudes which had brought him to Zurich came to my knowledge
afterwards in a somewhat offensive and aggressive manner. For the
present, Herwegh put on an aristocratic swagger and gave himself the
airs of a delicately nurtured and luxurious son of his times, to which a
fairly liberal interpolation of French expletives at least added a certain
distinction. Nevertheless, there was something about his person, with
his quick, flashing eye and kindliness of manner, which was well
calculated to exert an attractive influence. I felt almost flattered by his
ready acceptance of my invitation to my informal evening parties,
which may, perhaps, have been fairly agreeable gatherings, as Bulow
entertained us with music, though to me personally they afforded no
mental sustenance whatever. My wife used to declare that, when I
proceeded to read from my manuscript, Kolatschek promptly fell asleep,
while Herwegh gave all his attention to her punch. When, later on, as I

have already mentioned, I read my Oper und Drama for twelve
consecutive evenings to our Zurich friends, Herwegh stayed away,
because he did not wish to mix with those for whom such things had
not been written. Yet my intercourse with him became gradually more
cordial. Not only did I respect his poetical talent, which had recently
gained recognition, but I also learned to realise the delicate and refined
qualities of his richly cultivated intellect, and in course of time learned
that Herwegh, on his side, was beginning to covet my society. My
steady pursuit of those deeper and more serious interests which so
passionately engrossed me seemed to arouse him to an ennobling
sympathy, even for those topics which, since his sudden leap into
poetic fame, had been, greatly to his prejudice, smothered under mere
showy and trivial mannerisms, altogether alien to his original nature.
Possibly this process was accelerated by the growing difficulties of his
position, which he had hitherto regarded as demanding a certain
amount of outward show. In short, he was the first man in whom I met
with a sensitive and sympathetic comprehension of my most daring
schemes and opinions, and I soon felt compelled to believe his
assertion that he occupied himself solely with my ideas, into which,
certainly, no other man entered so profoundly as he did.
This familiarity with Herwegh, in which an element of affection was
certainly mingled, was further stimulated by news which reached me
respecting a new dramatic poem which I had sketched out for the
coining spring. Liszt's preparations in the late summer of the previous
year for the production in Weimar of my Lohengrin had met with more
success than, with such limited resources, had hitherto seemed possible.
This result could naturally only have been obtained by the zeal of a
friend endowed with such rich and varied gifts as Liszt. Though it was
beyond his power to attract quickly to the Weimar stage such singers as
Lohengrin demanded, and he had been compelled on many points to
content himself with merely suggesting what was intended to be
represented, yet he was now endeavouring by sundry ingenious
methods to make these suggestions clearly comprehensible. First of all,
he prepared a detailed account of the production of Lohengrin. Seldom
has a written description of a work of art won for it such attentive
friends, and commanded their enthusiastic appreciation from the outset,
as did this treatise of Liszt's, which extended even to the most

insignificant details. Karl Ritter distinguished himself