The Life & Letters of Peter Ilich TchaikovskyChaikovskii, Modest
General
The Life & Letters of Peter Ilich Tchaikovsky
Chaikovskii, Modest
Composers -- Russia -- Biography; Tchaikovsky, Peter Ilich, 1840-1893
“Has not the thought occurred to you that now I am quite recovered
I ought to return to Russia to take up my duties at the
Conservatoire and my old ways of life? The thought constantly
passes through my mind, and perhaps it might be good for me in
every way if I decided to act upon it. And yet, with all my longing
for Russia, and my attachment to Moscow, I should find it terribly
hard suddenly to give up this life of freedom and the convalescence
I am now enjoying, and return to my teaching and my various
complications--in a word, to my old life. I shudder at the very
thought. Give me your frank opinion. Answer me this question,
entirely oblivious of the fact that you are making me an allowance.
The fact that I profited by your wealth to travel abroad for my
health’s sake does not weigh upon me seriously. I know the
sentiment which prompted your offer of pecuniary assistance, and I
have long since grown to regard the situation as quite normal. My
relations with you are outside the scope of everyday friendship.
From you I can accept assistance without any sense of
embarrassment. This is not the difficulty.
“Since Rubinstein told me I was drifting into indolence and
feigning ill-health (that was his expression) I have been somewhat
troubled by the thought that perhaps it was actually my duty to
hasten back to Moscow. Help me to decide this question, kind
friend, without showing me excessive indulgence.
“On the other hand, if they have been able to do without me for six
months, surely now--when there remain but three months before the
vacation--I shall not be greatly missed.... To sum up the foregoing
arguments: although I may now be equal to resuming my duties, it
would be very hard upon me to be forced to do so, because I am most
anxious to give myself a longer convalescence in order to return in
September altogether a new man, having forgotten--as far as
forgetfulness is possible--the unhappy events of six months ago. My
request to you involves a strange contradiction. I ask you to tell
me the truth and, without allowing yourself to be influenced by any
side issues, to exact the fulfilment of my duty; while at the same
time you will read between the lines: for God’s sake do not insist
on my returning to Moscow now, for it will make me profoundly
miserable.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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