BRACERS Record Detail for 17939
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"Monday night" Wittgenstein took him to the Choral Symphony.
"If one respects a person, it is difficult not to care for them as much as they care for one. Wittgenstein said he had had some great moments in his life, and one was hearing the Choral Symphony with me. I thought of no human being except you all the time—I felt shame at being unable to feel towards him as he does towards me." [Transcription incorrectly had "torments" for "moments", based on a poor printout from a poor microfilm image.]
"I think this symphony is even greater than the C Minor—probably the greatest thing man has ever done." ... Loneliness and creative effort—writing not for an audience.
BR TO OTTOLINE MORRELL, [9 JUNE 1913]
BRACERS 17939. ALS. Morrell papers #803, Texas
Proofread by K. Blackwell et al.
My Darling Darling
I am just back from the Choral Symphony — fully awake again now — more so than ever — Wittgenstein took me, which was kind of him. If one respects a person, it is dreadful not to care for them as much as they care for one. W. said he had had some great moments3 in his life, and one was hearing the Choral Symphony with me. I thought of no human being except you all the time — I felt shame at being unable to feel towards him as he does towards me.
I think this symphony is even greater than the C Minor — probably the greatest thing man has ever done. It lifts one up into a great godlike world — it reconciles one to belonging to the human race. The force in it is incredible.
This morning I had a good talk on philosophy with Miss Stawell, then lunch with her and her mother; then Miss S. played Beethoven on the piano.
I got tremendously stirred. All this time I have kept human things under, and now they have returned in a great flood. I am more thankful than I can say that you are coming back. But I have gained something of value during this last month — some firmer possession of my own soul, more courage and independence — I think it will make me less exacting. I am in the mood of seeing what to live for with extraordinary clearness — just the mood for writing untechnical stuff. I have brought away from the logical regions some kind of Alpine purity of outlook, and all my impersonal feelings are very living. I loved Miss S. today, far more than I had done before. What happiness it will be to be with you again, and talk and live — I feel so full of love and of thoughts I long to share with you.
My mistake all this time has lain in trying to escape the ultimate loneliness. In my creative work, one must be alone — otherwise the work is neither honest nor strong. I have not sufficiently realized this, and have sometimes felt as a criticism of you what is really a law of life. It was feeling obscurely the need of loneliness that made me cry out that it was hopeless, when you spoke of people not being interested in anything you might write. However interested people will really be, one has to forget them all in writing. Others may be a stimulus, but not an audience — it doesn’t do to have any audience. I wonder if you will see no importance in all this — to me it has come as a really important discovery, which I believe will help my untechnical writing very much — in the other I never have thought of an audience. Dearest, I believe I shall really be more able now to make you happy, and to give a less mercenary love. But of course the times of utter absorption in work are unavoidable and necessary — however, they pass.
This is a terrible long screed about myself, but really I am not in a self-centred mood.
Now I must go to bed. Darling all my heart goes out to you. I long for you to be here Dearest — I feel so full of what you care for — and so full of love — Goodnight my dear dear Love.
Your
B
Tomorrow I go back to Cambridge for one night, but please address here now till you get home.
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[document] Document 000803. Proofread against a colour scan of the original.
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[envelope] A circled “803”. The Lady Ottoline Morrell | 3 Avenue Agassiz | Lausanne | Switzerland. Pmk: W.C. | 2. AM | 10 N 3D
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moments Because of a microfilm artifact, the word was originally transcribed as “torments”. A scan of the original letter shows that the word is indubitably "moments".