for the art of music, and especially the art of opera (of which art
music is by far the most important factor), has had ample time and
opportunity for making up his mind. It is, therefore, high time to
simplify and to cease from elaborating. In this book will be found, I
trust, no special pleading, no defence or extenuation, no preposterous
eulogy on the one hand, and on the other no vampire work, but a plain
and concise attempt to depict the mighty artist as he lived and to
describe his artistic achievement as it is. We have all had time to
consider and to sort out (so to say) the reams that have been written
and printed about Wagner: the bulk of it has had to be thrown on the
scrap-heap: what there was of value has, I hope, been utilised.

An author who plans a book on an artist or an artistic question must
be wary, especially at the beginning of his adventure. To start away
with a theory, whether new or old, and to yield to the seductive
temptation to convince humanity of its truth--this is to lay a trap
and to take the path that leads straight into it. Theories should be
kept for scientific matters. A work proving that parallel straight
lines never meet need not land the writer in self-contradictions; and
another writer may prove that they must and do meet, and still avoid
getting tangled amongst his own arguments. I even read a book once in
which it was clearly shown that the earth was flat; and, granted a
ludicrous premise, one could but admire the irrefragable logic with
which the conclusion was reached. With regard to art, be your premises
sound or grotesque, the result is the same--muddle. Logic, science,
philosophy, applied to art, spell certain disaster. With mingled pain
and amusement I have noted how more than one writer on music, setting
out in triumphant high spirits to demonstrate this or that, has before
his third chapter demonstrated just the contrary: I have never seen
anything else occur.