Jean COCTEAU

First edition, printed in 200 numbered copies not for sale.

A fine copy.

First edition, one of 10 numbered copies on imperial japon, ours one of 3 hors commerce lettered copies, a deluxe issue following 6 on chine.

Bound in full sienna morocco, flat spine, gilt date at foot, moiré-effect endpapers and pastedowns, gilt fillet border on pastedowns, original wrappers and spine preserved (spine restored and backed), gilt edges, chemise edged in sienna morocco, slipcase in wood-effect board with white felt lining, contemporary binding signed by Roger Arnoult.

Our copy is enriched with a one-page signed autograph letter by Jean Cocteau, mounted on a guard, written from La Roche-Posay in Vienne, probably addressed to Pierre Benoit, in which he humorously evokes Charlie Chaplin, his fragile health, and his boredom: "... Me voilà dans ce film de Charlot : \"Charlot fait une cure\" - parmi les clowns et clowneries du mercurochrome... Le docteur H. arrive à éteindre mon fer de travail avec ses pelotes d'épingles aquatiques. Mon ventre gargouille. Si tu venais ce serait une très bonne cure. Que penses-tu de cette publicité pour La Roche : La Roche source d'ennuis."

A handsome copy, finely bound by Roger Arnoult, a graduate of the École Estienne, active until 1980, who collaborated with and worked for the foremost binders of his time such as René Aussourd, Anthoine-Legrain, Paul Bonet, Georges Cretté, Pierre-Lucien Martin...

First edition, one of 500 numbered copies on pure wove paper.

Bound in full sienna morocco, flat spine with a slight snag at head, date gilt at foot, moiré endpapers and pastedowns, single gilt fillet framing the pastedowns, original wrappers and spine preserved, gilt edges, chemise edged in sienna morocco, slipcase of wood-grained boards lined with white felt, contemporary binding signed by Roger Arnoult.

Our copy is enriched with a signed autograph letter, one page, by Jean Cocteau mounted on a tab, dated April 1959, probably addressed to Pierre Benoit: "Nôtre Pierre fantôme... c'est autour de votre souvenir qu'on se réunit. C'est une chaîne bien étonnante que celle de cette affreuse et délicieuse cabane. Pensez moi. Je pense à vous. Je vous aime et je me résigne à vous aimer en rêve."

A fine copy, handsomely bound by Roger Arnoult, a graduate of the École Estienne, active until 1980, who worked with and for the greatest binders of his time such as René Aussourd, Anthoine-Legrain, Paul Bonet, Georges Cretté, Pierre-Lucien Martin...

Set of eight original color engravings, printed on laid paper and signed at the lower right and left of the plates. The plates are introduced by a text signed by Jean Cocteau and depict costumes for Shakespeare’s play (two Shepherdesses, Paulina, and Time).

Bradel binding in full decorative paper, smooth spine, brown shagreen title-piece, binding signed by Goy & Vilaine.

Original engravings created for the illustration of La Gazette du bon ton, one of the most beautiful and influential fashion magazines of the twentieth century, celebrating the talent of French designers and artists at the height of the Art Deco movement.

A celebrated fashion periodical founded in 1912 by Lucien Vogel, La Gazette du bon ton appeared until 1925, with an interruption between 1915 and 1920 due to the mobilization of its editor-in-chief. It comprises 69 issues printed in only 2,000 copies and is illustrated with 573 color plates and 148 sketches depicting designs by leading couturiers. From the outset, these luxurious publications were addressed “to bibliophiles and worldly aesthetes” (Françoise Tétart-Vittu, “La Gazette du bon ton” in Dictionnaire de la mode, 2016). Printed on fine laid paper, they employed a typeface specially created for the review by Georges Peignot, the Cochin type, later revived by Christian Dior in 1946. The engravings were produced using the pochoir technique, hand-colored and in some cases heightened with gold or palladium.
The venture began in 1912 when Lucien Vogel, a man of fashion and society—already involved with the magazine Femina—decided with his wife Cosette de Brunhoff (sister of Jean, the father of Babar) to establish La Gazette du bon ton, subtitled “Art, modes et frivolités.” Georges Charensol reports the words of the editor-in-chief: “In 1910, he observed, there was no fashion magazine truly artistic and representative of the spirit of its time. I therefore thought of creating a luxury magazine with genuinely modern artists [...] I was certain of success, for in matters of fashion no country can rival France.” (“Un grand éditeur d’art. Lucien Vogel” in Les Nouvelles littéraires, no.133, May 1925). The success of the review was immediate, not only in France but also in the United States and South America.
At the outset, Vogel brought together a group of seven artists: André-Édouard Marty and Pierre Brissaud, soon joined by Georges Lepape and Dammicourt; and finally his friends from the École des Beaux-Arts, George Barbier, Bernard Boutet de Monvel, and Charles Martin. Other talents quickly joined: Guy Arnoux, Léon Bakst, Benito, Umberto Brunelleschi, Chas Laborde, Jean-Gabriel Domergue, Raoul Dufy, Édouard Halouze, Alexandre Iacovleff, Jean Émile Laboureur, Charles Loupot, Maggie Salcedo. Most of these artists were unknown when Vogel first engaged them, yet they would later become emblematic and highly sought-after figures in the art world. These same illustrators also created the advertisements for the Gazette.
The plates highlighted and exalted the creations of seven designers of the period: Lanvin, Doeuillet, Paquin, Poiret, Worth, Vionnet, and Doucet. For each issue, the couturiers provided exclusive designs. Nevertheless, some illustrations did not reproduce actual models but rather conveyed the illustrator’s vision of contemporary fashion.
La Gazette du bon ton represents a decisive stage in the history of fashion. Combining aesthetic refinement with visual unity, it brought together for the first time the leading talents of art, literature, and couture, imposing through this alchemy an entirely new image of womanhood—slender, independent, and bold—further embodied by the new generation of designers such as Coco Chanel, Jean Patou, and Marcel Rochas.
Taken over in 1920 by Condé Montrose Nast, La Gazette du bon ton greatly influenced the new composition and aesthetic choices of the “little dying magazine” Nast had acquired a few years earlier: Vogue.

Autograph letter signed by Jean Cocteau, marked with his famous star, addressed to his great love, the actor Jean Marais. One page penned in black ink on a single sheet.
Traces of folds, horizontal creases inherent to mailing, two ink spots on the blank verso not affecting the text.
A magnificent love letter from Cocteau to Marais, who together formed one of the most iconic artistic couples of the 20th century. Set against the backdrop of turmoil and the German Occupation, their unbreakable bond is embodied in this letter of the writer, filled with desperate tones.

The first edition, an advance [service de presse] copy.
A fine inscription from Jean Cocteau to Jean-Paul Sartre: “son ami de tout cœur [your true friend].”
Despite not being of the same generation, and despite everything that could have separated them, Jean Cocteau and Jean-Paul Sartre were friendly in the late 40s and early 50s. When Sartre died, Jean Marais evoked their regular telephone calls and dinners with endless, wonderful discussions.
The two also worked together for recognition for Jean Genet and in July 1948 published an open letter together in Combat, addressed to the President of France, Vincent Auriol, urging the release from prison of the poet-thug. A few years later, Cocteau would help Sartre set up a committee of support for Henri Martin, a Communist protesting against the war in Indochina, sentenced to five years in prison for distributing pamphlets. Cocteau also took part in the staging of Sartre's Dirty Hands at the Théâtre Antoine in 1948.
In giving the high priest of Existentialism an inscribed copy of The Difficulty of Being, the indefatigable dandy was giving him one of his most intimate pieces. In this work, Sartre's political engagement is evoked in poetic terms: “but why does he insist on visible engagement? The invisible engages so much more…Poets engage themselves without any goal other than to lose themselves.”
Rare testimony of the links between two major figures of the 20th century intellectual and literary world.

First edition, one of 45 numbered copies on pur fil, the only copies printed on deluxe paper.

A handsome copy.

"A cause du mécanisme moderne, qui permet de reproduire le rare à d'innombrables exemplaires, le rare se meurt et, entre autres, on fait du mot merveilleux un emploi abusif [mot biffé].
Le merveilleux cesse de l'être s'il se désingularise, et l'on a une tendance à le confondre avec tout ce qui nous étonne encore : la radio, la vitesse, la bombe atomique.

Or, le merveilleux se trouve beaucoup plus en nous que dans les objets qui nous surprennent. Le véritable merveilleux, c'est la faculté d'émerveillement, qui s'émousse si vite chez l'homme. L'enfance le quitte. Il se blinde contre elle. Il juge, il préjuge. Il repousse l'inconnu [phrase biffée]. S'il laisse agir en lui cette faculté atrophiée, c'est pour fuir les fatigues qu'il s'impose. Il en use comme d'une drogue et se plonge, pour quelques heures, dans un livre ou dans un film.

Autograph quatrain and tercet from Cocteau's youth, comprising fourteen stanzas signed by Jean Cocteau, with fifteen lines written in black ink and titled "Pour Abel Bonnard".
This manuscript poem, bearing two autograph corrections by Jean Cocteau, was later published in the collection "Le Prince frivole," issued by Mercure de France in 1910—the poet’s second published work.
On the verso of the bifolium, Cocteau drafted an early version of the poem: the title, the first line, and the very beginning of the second, with a slight variation from the final version.
This manuscript of Le Prince frivole was long thought to be lost: “Le manuscrit original de la main de Cocteau manque” (Œuvres poétiques complètes, Bibliothèque de la Pléiade, p. 1842).
The work, praised by Marcel Proust, who hailed Cocteau as a “Banville de vingt ans qu’attendent de plus hautes destinées”, was later disavowed by the author, who eventually forbade its reprinting.
"Pour Abel Bonnard" appears among the suite of eight sonnets from the Hôtel Biron (Pour mes amis, Pour Marcel Cruppi, Pour Reynaldo Hahn, Pour Pierre Mortier, Pour Francis de Croisset, Pour Abel Bonnard, Pour le comte Robert de Montesquiou Fezensac, Pour Auguste Rodin, and Pour Elle), which were not given dedication titles in the printed edition:
"Un ogre a fait s’enfuir dryade, fée ou muse...
C’est déjà loin nos promenades au couvent !
Vous cherchiez à chaque herbe un beau nom très savant
Insoucieux et gai comme un gamin qui muse
...
Armés d’outils de fer contre un grand parc qui dort
Marchait la horde interminable des vandales
Et vous le défendiez avec vos armes d’or !"

Autograph quatrain and tercet from Jean Cocteau's youth, comprising fourteen stanzas penned in black ink across 15 lines on grey paper bearing the poet’s silver monogram in the upper left corner.
Two pencil corrections in the poet’s hand.
This poem presents a variant of the version published in the collection "Le prince frivole," released by Mercure de France in 1910, Cocteau’s second published work; “Versailles dont on a tant dit” (appearing as “Le vieux parc dont on a tant dit” in the printed edition).



 

Autograph letter by Jean Cocteau, signed with his famous star, addressed to his great love, the actor Jean Marais. Dated by the author July 1940. One and a half pages in black ink on a sheet.
Two small marginal tears not affecting the text. Traces of transverse folds inherent to posting.
Magnificent love letter from Cocteau to Marais, who formed one of the most legendary artistic couples of the 20th century. Against the backdrop of defeat and German Occupation, their unbreakable bond is embodied in this letter from the writer with its desperate accents.
Published in the Lettres à Jean Marais, 1987, p. 157.
This missive from a love-stricken Cocteau was written shortly after the Armistice of June 22, 1940 marking the end of the French defeat. Marais, mobilized, had joined the front in May 1940 while Cocteau had taken refuge in Perpignan. Communication in these troubled times proved difficult: "Mon Jeannot, j'attends toujours ta réponse, mais avec une confiance absolue. Ce n'est pas pour rien que notre étoile nous a rapprochés l'un de l'autre, et sans doute, fallait-il que mes lettres ne t'arrivent pas et que je souffre de mon silence" ["My Jeannot, I am still waiting for your response, but with absolute confidence. It is not for nothing that our star brought us closer to one another, and no doubt, it was necessary that my letters not reach you and that I suffer from my silence"] "Tu es né chef, je suis né chef. Et sous notre étoile rien de ce que nous [...] ne peut s'annexer ni se perdre. Le principal est de se taire et d'attendre. [entre guillemets :] les choses ont une manière à elles d'arriver." C'est à nous de le savoir et de les laisser faire [...]" ["You were born a leader, I was born a leader. And under our star nothing of what we [...] can be annexed or lost. The main thing is to remain silent and wait. [in quotation marks:] things have their own way of happening." It is up to us to know this and let them do so [...]"]
The Cocteau - Marais partnership would soon return to Paris, and endure the torments of the German occupation which would ban the revival of their scandalous play Les Parents terribles, which had enjoyed great success in 1939.

Nouveau cercle parisien du livre, Paris 1965, 35x45cm, morocco binding under custom chemise and slipcase.

"The idea of this book, bringing together poems by Jean Cocteau illustrated by Léopold Survage on the theme of Pegasus, had been submitted to the Poet and had pleased him. A few days before his death, he invited us to Milly-la-Forêt to hand over the texts and the preface he had specially written. But on the day of our appointment, he was no longer there" (afterword to Pégase).

Autograph manuscript by Jean Cocteau, early version of the poetry collection Appogiatures - published in 1953 by Éditions du Rocher in Monaco - comprising 47 leaves of thick paper taken from a large drawing pad and 5 smaller leaves of thin paper, written in blue ink and blue ballpoint pen. Numerous deletions and corrections. The leaves are numbered up to 25 (including one number 8 bis) and most bear a small cross or the mythical Cocteau star. The last leaf, containing the poem titled "Lettre," is dated in the poet's hand August, 15, 1952. Also in Cocteau's hand, the first leaf bears the final title, above which is crossed out the initially envisaged title - Soucoupes volantes - the date 1952 and the place - St Jean Cap Ferrat; it also features a crossed-out dedication: "À la mémoire de Baudelaire et de Max Jacob qui nous apprirent ces exercices de style." While the collection clearly shows the influence of Baudelaire's Petits Poèmes en prose and Max Jacob's Le Cornet à dés, this tribute was not retained in the published version and was replaced by a dedication to the publisher Henri Parisot.

An exceptional ensemble containing 33 of the 51 published poems, 11 texts rejected on the advice of publisher Henri Parisot and published in "En marge d'Appogiatures" (Œuvres poétiques complètes de la Pléiade, pp. 818-831) and 6 unpublished texts.

David Gullentops, in the edition of Jean Cocteau's Œuvres poétiques complètes in the Pléiade, notes the existence of a second set of manuscripts and typescripts, preserved at the Bibliothèque Historique de la Ville de Paris (BHVP). He further indicates that he had access to no manuscript of the poem "Lanterne sourde." Yet this poem is indeed part of our ensemble, which would thus be the first version of the collection envisioned by Cocteau.

Jean Cocteau began writing this collection of poems in verse and prose, commissioned by his friend the publisher Henri Parisot, at the end of July 1952 while staying at Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat in Francine Weisweiller's Villa Santo-Sospir. The first version of the collection was completed in mid-August, as attested by the two dates on our manuscript ("août 1952" and "15 août 1952") and this entry in Cocteau's diary: "J'ai terminé la mise au point des courts poèmes en prose pour Parisot. Il y en aura vingt-six, à moins que le mécanisme continue, ce que je ne souhaite pas car, à la longue, ces exercices d'écriture, illustrés par Baudelaire et Max Jacob, fatiguent." (Le Passé défini, Tome 1, 1951-1952, August 14, 1952). Our ensemble would thus be a mixture of the first poems sent to Henri Parisot, written with a pen, and several added texts, written with a ballpoint pen. This hypothesis is supported by the writing of the final title Appogiatures on the title page of our manuscript; Cocteau relates this change, again in his diary, dated August 29, 1952: "Ai [...] classé les poèmes pour Parisot sous le titre : Appogiatures."

Our early manuscript version contains significant variants concerning the titles of the poems; thus the poem "Livre de bord" was initially titled "Le Spectacle," likewise for "Au poil" for which Cocteau had previously chosen "La langue française," or "Le tableau noir" originally titled "Le lièvre et la tortue." The order of the poems was also considerably modified for printing: our ensemble shows that Cocteau wished to begin the collection with "Le voyageur," which would finally be replaced by "Seul" and moved to second position. Also noteworthy in our dossier is the presence of eight poems entirely in verse: these would be removed, Appogiatures becoming a collection exclusively in prose.

The ensemble, heavily deleted and corrected, also presents long passages suppressed in the published version, for example this very beautiful extract from the poem "Scène de ménage" evoking the "countess" Francine Weisweiller: "Et les larmes de la comtesse se disaient : nous sommes la mer. Et la mer se disait : Je suis les larmes de la comtesse. Et les vagues se disaient : je suis la bave du comte. Et le comte se disait : je suis les vagues."; likewise for the conclusion of "Le Fantôme réaliste": "Il en serait mort de honte, si la mort n'était interdite aux fantômes. Un jour, de rage, il décida de lancer l'école du réalisme fantomatique. Et, fort vite, ce furent les autres fantômes qui, sans succès, voulurent le suivre." or seventeen lines from "Le Cœur au ventre" (leaf 25 of our manuscript, transcribed in "En marge d'Appogiatures"): "[...] Douce douce était la terre / Douce à la main douce au cœur / Il est injuste de le taire / De quoi donc auriez-vous peur / soldats abandonnant vos armes / Vous devez défendre ses charmes / Car douce est la douleur [...]"

Finally, this remarkable ensemble contains six entirely unpublished poems ("Le pêcheur," "Antibes," "Art poétique," "Sous toute réserve," "L'accordéonaniste" and "Lettre") appearing neither in any subsequent collection by Jean Cocteau nor in "En marge d'Appogiatures" in the Pléiade.

Provenance: Carole Weisweiller collection, daughter of Francine Weisweiller. Cocteau made the acquaintance of Francine Weisweiller, producer of Les Enfants terribles, in 1949. The opium-addicted poet's career was then in decline and this new friend, nearly thirty years his junior, gave him a new lease on life. She opened the doors of her private mansion on Place des États-Unis and especially those of her villa at Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat, on whose walls Cocteau painted superb frescoes. Francine became Jean's muse and patron and would use her influence to have him elected to the Académie française.

First edition on ordinary paper.
Small spots, not serious, to head of the covers and the endpaper.
Handsome autograph inscription signed by Jean Cocteau to his friend Francis Poulenc : "A Francis Poulenc qui est musique son Jean."

First edition, one of 7 numbered copies on Hollande paper, the only large paper copies, this one no. 1, specially printed for Jean Cocteau's mother.
Contemporary vellum Bradel binding by Dupré, gilt date to foot of spine, brown shagreen title label, marbled endpapers and pastedowns, covers and spine preserved. Light worming, principally affecting the margins of some leaves.
A moving and exceptional autograph inscription signed and dated by Jean Cocteau to his mother, in Latin, quoting a verse of Virgils Bucolics: “Incipe, parve puer : cui non risere parentes, nec deus hunc mensa, dea nec dignita cubili est. / Virgile. / Jean”, which in English is: “Realise this, child: the boy at whom his parents never smiled is fit neither to approach the table of the Gods, nor the couch of a Goddess.”
A unique copy.

With the publication of this third collection of poetry Cocteau, a young prodigy then aged 23, was feted by artistic and literary circles. An intimate of Proust's, a friend of Jacques-Emile Blanche, a follower of Nijinski and Diaghilev and a disciple of Anna de Noailles, his ambition was to unite in his own person all the talents that surrounded him.
The Danse de Sophocle [Dance of Sophocles], a reference to the nude dance that “the young and divine Sophocles” did in Athens after the naval victory at Salamis, reflects the ambition and the exaltation of the young Cocteau: novelist, painter, dancer, poet, he felt truly “fit to approach the table of the Gods.”
“As with all the best artists, he was a link between God and Earth.” In his biography, Claude Arnaud dedicates a chapter (“The Living God”) to the psychology of the poet in this period: “He was a piece torn from God, one of the terrestrial organs through which this Being, constantly evolving, thought about and finally acted to improve his creation.”
Thus, Cocteau broke free of his illustrious models and assumed his full artistic divinity, which unfolded in this ecstatic collection, witnessed by the eponymous poem:

Thanks to you, dear pride, I wore the halo
Given by the charming god of words…
Thanks to you, I knew the frenetic struggles
in which pen and paper, the dreary pot of ink
Are the ties of verses you want to shout
You want to scream, sing, sigh, laugh…
And which we must – since they are in us and we feel them –
Let flow like beautiful blood.

The inscription to his mother, on the first of seven rare large paper copies, is a witness to Cocteau's only real great influence: Eugénie Cocteau. A mother idolized by her son, she was a profound influence on both the poet's life and his work, marked by the omnipresence of the Oedipal figure. Claude Arnaud describes at length this “filial outpouring coupled with an almost amorous attention...: ‘only my love for you is rooted in something real, the rest seems to be a bad dream'.”

One can hardly miss in this quotation from Virgil the incestuous ambiguity that bound Cocteau to his mother.

One of the most desirable provenances for this extremely rare copy.

First edition of this issue of La Revue musicale dated December 1, 1930, entirely devoted to Serge de Diaghilev’s Ballets Russes.

With numerous contributions by Anna de Noailles, Gabriel Astruc, Maurice Brillant, Émile Henriot, Michel-Georges Michel, Mikhail Larionov, Auguste Gilbert de Voisins, André Warnod, among others.

Illustrated in black and in color with works by Jean Cocteau, Léon Bakst, Georges Braque, André Derain, André Dunoyer de Segonzac, Natalia Goncharova, Mikhail Larionov, Pablo Picasso, Maurice Utrillo, and others.

Two small light dampstains at the foot of the spine and rear cover, otherwise a pleasant copy.