Dear Marion,

Happy New Year! I think of you often, and I very much hope that
you are well. Margaret and I are comfortable. We are "managing",
although I feel vaguely that, although not yet at the bottom, 
we are both going down-hill. Time passes very quickly, and it 
seems with ever greater speed.

Nathaniel's performance of Tchaikovsky's 5th Symphony occurred a
week ago tomorrow, on December 29. There were, in addition to himself,
48 musicians. The audience, counted by Klemens and Laura, 248 in
number, was demonstrably appreciative. In the context of such apparent
success, I have no explanation for the failure of New England Conservatory
even to grant Nathaniel an audition on his application to their conducting
program. Conceivably Nathaniel's parents and grandparents overestimate
his talent and his accomplishment. But is is also arguable that the 
educational establishment is disconcerted by Nathaniel's self-confident
audacity and prefers trainees who are more docile and conventional.
In any event, Nathaniel seems to subscribe to Nietzsche's dictum:
"Was mich nicht umbringt, macht mich stärker." (What does not kill me,
makes me stronger.) His orchestra seems to be loyal and enthusiastic, and
Nathaniel in turn has been optimistic, exploring the feasibility of more
frequent concerts. We have talked about the difficulties and opportunities
of performances with vocal soloists. I may be repeating myself when I write
that I've suggested to Nathaniel that he contemplate spending two or three
years experimenting and exploring what he can accomplish with an orchestra 
of his own. His "Belmont Festival Orchestra", now two years old, appears to
be thriving.

Meanwhile aside from attending Nathaniel's rehearsals and his concert,
I've spent almost all available time editing my texts. After wrestling
with Chapter 40, I found Chapters 41, 42, 43, 44, and 45 a pleasure to review.
On the other hand, Chapter 46 is causing difficulties, which I attribute to
the circumstance that I tried to introduce into it a literal and prosaic
history of my Nantucket adventure.  Facts, I discover, paralyze the imagination
and stifle the fantasy that is requisite for the expression of subjective
"truth". I'm unsure, whether I will be able to solve my problem. I will try.
Maybe in my next letter, I will be able to tell you more about my failure.
Of course, I very much like to have a letter from you, but I understand 
that you may feel in no mood to write. You should never feel a need to
apologize for your silence. Again: Happy New Year!

Jochen