In regard to this work which called for so many sacrifices, and which was so slow and difficult, more details will appear in my autobiography.  At all events, when May came round I was in possession of a hundred neatly bound copies of my first new work since the production of the Fliegender Hollander, and Hiller, to whom I showed some parts of it, formed a tolerably good impression of its value.

These plans for rapidly spreading the fame of my Tannhauser were made with the hope of a success which, in view of my needy circumstances, seemed ever more and more desirable.  In the course of one year since I had begun my own publication of my operas, much had been done to this end.  In September of the year 1844 I had presented the King of Saxony with a special richly bound copy of the complete pianoforte arrangement of Rienzi, dedicated to his Majesty.  The Fliegender Hollander had also been finished, and the pianoforte arrangement of Rienzi for duet, as well as some songs selected from both operas, had either been published or were about to be published.  Apart from this I had had twenty-five copies made of the scores of both these operas by means of the so-called autographic transfer process, although only from the writing of the copyists.  All these heavy expenses made it absolutely imperative that I should try to send my scores to the different theatres, and induce them to produce my operas, as the outlay on the piano scores had been heavy, and these could only have a sale if my works got to be known sufficiently well through the theatre.

I now sent the score of my Rienzi to the more important theatres, but they all returned my work to me, the Munich Court Theatre even sending it back unopened!  I therefore knew what to expect, and spared myself the trouble of sending my Dutchman.  From a speculative business point of view the situation was this:  the hoped-for success of Tannhauser would bring in its wake a demand for my earlier works.  The worthy Meser, my agent, who was the music publisher appointed to the court, had also begun to feel a little doubtful, and saw that this was the only thing to do.  I started at once on the publication of a pianoforte arrangement of Tannhauser, preparing it myself while Rockel undertook the Fliegender Hollander, and a certain Klink did Rienzi.

The only thing that Meser was absolutely opposed to was the title of my new opera, which I had just named Der Venusberg; he maintained that, as I did not mix with the public, I had no idea what horrible jokes were made about this title.  He said the students and professors of the medical school in Dresden would be the first to make fun of it, as they had a predilection for that kind of obscene joke.  I was sufficiently disgusted by these details to consent to the change.  To the name of my hero, Tannhauser, I added the name of the subject of the legend which, although originally not belonging to the Tannhauser myth, was thus associated with it by me, a fact which later on Simrock, the great investigator and innovator in the world of legend, whom I esteemed so highly, took very much amiss.