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B Gastein
July 19, 1921
V Wassing1
Dear friend, I haven't written to you for a long time; I also, to be sure, waited for an intimate letter from you that didn't come. In its place came a letter from Lajos, which, in its matter-of-factness and assuredness, was able to calm me completely about the state of your health. He relates the recent wobbliness to Elma's departure; who knows if he isn't right. The endlessness of the demands of the libido!
Your work and that of your group has a very successful year behind you. You have heard this confirmed from many quarters. We can all be gratified by the progress of this work year. The propaganda has developed uncommonly, the Verlag has worked well, the journals are again at their peak. I didn't participate much personally, the Group Psychology was already in essence finished in September, and what was added is not well done. The work, nine hours a day, among them four to five in English, was rather too much for me. In the end it turns out that I don't bear it badly, and it had the advantage of making me at least nominally so rich that I don't need to deprive myself and my family of anything in the summer. The inflow of foreigners, especially of pupils, is so great that I hope next year to be able to make Rank and Reik secure as well. If it weren't for the language difficulties, we would have been able to divert a part of the increase to Budapest a long time ago. Perhaps a beginning can be made in the fall.
Although I am still inclined to regard every year and every month as the last of my existence, I still can't report about the beginning of a decision about the technical mechanism of the endgame. None of the seven organs is getting serious with its claim. I have also not gotten any stupider, only more indolent. In this vacation I am working on—nothing.
You ask about my September program. Seefeld in Tirol until about the 15th, then on to Hamburg—I don't know whether alone or with my wife—and then to the meeting, which still awaits