17670

"Thursday mg."

"Wittgenstein is gone out to get furniture. He is very fussy, and bought nothing at all yesterday. He gave me a lecture on how furniture should be made—he dislikes all ornamentation that is not part of the construction*, and can never find anything simple enough. Then I gave him sage advice, not to put off writing until he had solved all the problems, because that time would never come. This produced a wild outburst—he has the artist's feeling that he will produce the perfect thing or nothing—I explained how he wouldn't get a degree or be able to teach unless he learnt to write imperfect things—this all made him more and more furious—at last he solemnly begged me not to give him up even if he disappointed me. I love his intransigence; he makes me feel myself a puny compromiser. But I have such a strong protective feeling towards him that I find it hard to be as reckless for him as he is for himself, though I think he is quite right. This morning I made him read two pages on sense-data by a muddle-headed person named Dawes Hicks, but the middle made him quite ill. He declaimed for a long time and I thought he would murder me! The strength of his passion is really splendid.—He is still here tonight, but leaves tomorrow morning."

*Cf. Janik and Toulmin, Wittgenstein's Vienna.

[Fragment of letter only; not signed; concludes as letter 567.]