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Vienna, September 22, 1898
Dear Wilhelm,
It was no doubt time that I returned home, but I have been back barely three days and all the bad humor of Viennadom has already descended upon me. It is sheer misery to live here and no atmosphere in which the hope of completing something difficult can survive.
I wish you thought less of my masterly skills and I had you close by so that I could hear your criticisms more often. I am not at all in disagreement with you, not at all inclined to leave the psychology hanging in the air without an organic basis. But apart from this conviction I do not know how to go on, neither theoretically nor therapeutically, and therefore must behave as if only the psychological were under consideration. Why I cannot fit it together [the organic and the psychological] I have not even begun to fathom.
A second example of name forgetting resolved itself even more easily.1 could not find the name of the renowned painter who did the Last Judgment in Orvieto, the greatest I have seen so far. Instead,