Touching autograph card, dated and signed by Julio Cortázar, addressed to his friend, the writer Christiane Baroche: eight lines in black ink, thanking her for the comfort she had given to his wife Carol, then suffering from an incurable illness.
"29/11/82
je n'oublierai jamais, Christiane, ta présence près de Carol, ta bonté que - je le sais - l'encourageait tant dans sa souffrance. Je ne peux pas écrire davantage, je t'embrasse très fort, Julio. Ton poème sera toujours près de mon coeur."
Autograph manuscript by the author, two and a half pages in-8, published in the issue of May 11, 1944 of the Journal des Débats. Complete manuscript in very dense handwriting, with numerous erasures, corrections, and additions. Literary column published on the occasion of the release of Gaston Bachelard's L'air et les songes. Accompanied by the complete typescript.
« L'homme est d'abord rêverie, puissance d'imaginer avant d'être sensibilité et raison », Blanchot’s analysis of this new essay by Bachelard provides an opportunity to confront the philosopher with the uncertainties of his theory, which tends to fragment in the plurality of its forms. « Qu'est-ce pour lui que l'image et l'imagination ? On ne le voit pas nettement ».
Yet this sometimes severe critique is above all a device to highlight the true value of Bachelard’s work, which also coincides with one of the central themes of Blanchot’s thought: the creative power of poetic language: "L'image littéraire est un fait premier; elle est la poésie même; (...) se demander s'il y à en nous une poésie d'avant les mots, d'avant les images, un en deçà poétique, une blancheur et un silence que le langage essiaerait de reproduire, c'est méconnaitre l'activité littéraire qui une activité naturelle, originelle, correspondant à une action de l'imagination - faculté de produire l'irréel qui est la conscience même - sur le langage."
Autograph manuscripts by Maurice Blanchot are of the greatest rarity.
Original and unpublished manuscript by “Jean Cocquebert de Roquelaure de Reims”, dated 1647; 1 title leaf and 216 folios numbered in ink (431 pp. of text), including 2 ff. of a “Table of Towns and Other Places Contained in this Book” at the end. The full list of towns and villages cited in the manuscript is provided at the end of this description.
Full limp vellum binding, smooth spine with a calf lettering piece. Some dampstaining; one quire detached.
During the closing years of the Thirty Years’ War, a traveller from Reims named Jean Cocquebert, set down in this exceptional manuscript the entirety of his seven‑month journey through France and Italy in the year 1647. From Lyon to Marseille, where he embarked for Genoa, Cocquebert carries us on to Rome and Venice, allowing the reader to grasp the intimate, day‑by‑day ordeal of the long journey to the Eternal City and La Serenissima.
In southern France, Cocquebert describes in detail each stage, every hamlet and every inn in the Lyonnais, Dauphiné, Comtat Venaissin, Provence, and Languedoc regions which he explores even more thoroughly on his return route to Lyon. He records in particular a visit in Aix‑en‑Provence to the cabinet of curiosities of “a good old man,” geographically identifiable from his description as that of the celebrated notary Boniface Borrilli (visited by King Louis XIII in 1622) as well as to the famed botanical garden of the Montpellier Faculty of Medicine, where he encounters “a maid in this garden who speaks Latin better than French, which makes those who hear her jargon laugh.” We follow closely his pilgrimage to the sanctuary of Mary Magdalene at Sainte‑Baume (much mutilated during the Revolution) and to the Grande Chartreuse. His adventures abound in depictions of Provençal gastronomy - on the Îles Pomègues near Marseille he eats rock samphire growing between the stones, and throughout his journey consumes quantities of olive oil, together with French and Italian wines with detailed mentions of vineyards, quality, and price.
The daily chronicle of his Italian sojourn brims with accounts of storms, pirates, processions, flagellants, carnivals, jeu de paume, horse races, visits to the masterpieces of the Vatican and to the cabinets of curiosities in the Barberini and Ludovisi palaces, to the Doge’s Palace, and to the glassworks of Murano. Faithful to his hometown of Reims, he ranks the beauties of Reims Cathedral above the marvels of the Italian churches. His connections within the clergy of his native city enabling him to travel untroubled. The manuscript contains precious comments and first‑hand testimonies on life in Italy, on the place of the Jews in the cities he visits, and on the debauchery and violence encountered along the way, particularly in Rome, where capital executions and prostitution were commonplace. In Modena, Cocquebert even turns soldier for several months, offering a rare source on the daily life of French troops posted in the duchy of Francesco I d’Este, then preparing to attack the Milanese with Mazarin’s support.
Black-and-white photograph showing Kirk Douglas smiling, facing the camera.
A handsome example.
Boldly signed by Kirk Douglas in the upper right corner of the photograph.
Provenance: from the collection of renowned autograph collector Claude Armand.
Original black and white photograph of Roger Peyrefitte.
A fine example. Photographer Rodolphe Haussaire's printed stamp to verso.
Inscribed, dated and signed by Roger Peyrefitte to the noted autograph collector Claude Armand.
Original watercolour signed with Sonia Delaunay’s initials, “S.D.” One leaf under a wooden frame with a mat, a few minor chips and small lacks to the frame. Red stamp on the verso of the leaf: "Ce projet de tissu provient de l'Atelier que dirigeait Sonia Delaunay entre 1925 et 1933. Son fils, Charles Delaunay".
Exceptional sketch of a colourful chevron dress, one of the famous "tissus simultanés" created by Sonia Delaunay. Likely to be a preparatory drawing for a dress featured in Delaunay’s portfolio Ses Peintures, Ses Objets, Ses Tissus Simultanés, Ses Modes, published on the occasion of the 1925 Exposition Internationale des Arts Décoratifs.
Entertaining fragments of handwritten notes and reflections by Sacha Guitry on the French origins of the English language, approximately 75 lines in black ink across 6 leaves.
Sacha Guitry wittily comments on the hospitality of the English language: "Aucune langue n'a été plus accueillante que la langue anglaise..." and its deep-rooted traditions, heavily influenced by French: "J'ai pu constater (on me l'avait dit mais je ne le croyais pas ! ) que, à la chambre des Lords lorsque le Roi prend la parole un huissier s'écrie : Oyez ! oyez ! Or, le mot oyez s'écrie o - y - e - z et c'est le vieux français : oyez ! du verbe ouïr - écouter." [...] "Lorsque le Roi prend une décision, tous les lords disent en choeur : le Roi le veult !"
The playwright identifies another linguistic root of Shakespeare’s tongue—German: "dans la langue anglaise les animaux comestibles ont un nom quand ils sont vivants et un autre nom quand ils sont morts. Le boeuf se nomme beef quand il est vivant et ox quand il est mort, le cochon se nomme pig quand il est vivant et porc quand il est mort..." This allows him to underscore the predominance of the French art de vivre and the cultural ascendancy of France over her German and English cousins: "comment se fait-il que tous les animaux aient des noms français quand ils sont morts et des noms allemands quand ils sont vivants ? Parce qu'en Angleterre depuis le XIIIe siècle les gardiens de troupeau ont toujours été allemands ... et les cuisiniers français."
Sacha Guitry concludes his demonstration with inevitable and near-clichéd phrases, nonetheless awarding England a merit point (though refusing to grant it a capital letter): "mais si le mot humour vient du français humeur, l'humour vient d'angleterre comme le caviar de Russie, comme les valses viennent de Vienne..."
These patriotic and humorous handwritten musings are unfortunately incomplete, covering only the first six leaves of these reflections.
Christmas greeting card illustrated with a printed drawing by Mathurin Méheut, to which he added a few handwritten words on the verso, addressed to a couple of friends:
"Aux vieux et très bons amis Dupouy ceux du tertre et de toujours, à toute leur famille. Les voeux bien sincères de MMéheut."
Marguerite Méheut, the artist’s wife, also added a note to convey her own wishes: "Aux parents, aux enfants, tous nos meilleurs voeux de bonne et heureuse année. Toutes nos amitiés à partager. Marg. Méheut."
Two small stains on the verso of the card.
Autograph letter signed by André Malraux to Max Jacob. Two pages in black ink on a bifolium, with a drawing by Malraux.
Partially transcribed in Histoires littéraires, 2002, p. 123.
Hilarious letter by Malraux - waiting for Max Jacob to reply to his letters, he writes a false obituary announcing his correspondent's death. He added a drawing of a cat profile next to his signature.
Autograph manuscript by Juliette Drouet, entitled “General income for the year 1839” “General expenditure for the year 1839” (verso). Two pages in ink on one leaf.
Folds, blind stamp “Bath” in the upper left corner. Two small tears filled in, tiny holes barely visible.
A precious manuscript in the hand of Juliette Drouet, listing her expenses for 1839, a crucial year during which she gave up theater for good and became entirely dependent on her famous lover.
As was her custom at the end of each year, Drouet put her affairs in order, drew up columns and figures, compared her monthly income, and listed her expenses on the reverse: “food and wine,” ‘toiletries, maintenance, and perfumes,' ‘heating'... Of course, it was the ‘shared expenses of Monsieur Toto and Mme Juju, including travel' that cost her the most. From September to October, the two lovers traveled through Germany, Switzerland, and the south of France. They visited the Toulon prison, a decisive event in the genesis of Les Misérables, where Hugo noted in his notebook the first draft of the name of his future hero, “Jean Tréjean.”
After being rejected for the role of the queen in Ruy Blas the previous year, it is clear from her correspondence with Toto that Juliette still wanted to become a “great actress” and retain her independence. Hugo refused, and that year, they ended up celebrating a spiritual marriage, without a mediator or witnesses, on the night of November 17-18. Their union sealed her fate as a reclusive lover, and this account summary sums up her total dependence: apart from the meager sum she earned from “theater [...] bric-a-brac sold” (probably the sale of her costumes, since she was no longer acting), all of her income came from “money earned by my beloved.” : 7,304 francs, 3 sous, and half a liard. The calculations reveal Juliette's sad situation, ending the year with a deficit of 15 francs.
This fascinating document is a unique archive revealing the underside of this passionate relationship at the fateful moment when the prominent actress agreed to devote her life to the most famous writer of her time.
Original black and white photograph, dated and inscribed by Jacques Chirac.
A handsome copy.
Autograph inscription, dated and signed by Jacques Chirac: "Avec mes amitiés J. Chirac 24 4 74."
Provenance: from the collection of the noted autograph collector Claude Armand.
Original portrait of James Joyce, signed and dated by Freund on the left and right of the mount, just below the image. With the monogrammed dry stamp "GF" in the corner of the print, and "Gisèle Freund All Rights Reserved" violet stamp on verso.
Large-format portraits of Joyce are extremely rare.
A striking photograph of James Joyce taken during his legendary photo shoot with Gisèle Freund to promote Finnegan's wake. The Kodak negatives were rescued from a taxi accident suffered by Freund on her way back from Joyce's house. Freund's color portraits would place her at the forefront of modernity.
In 1938, after two years of refusals and postponements, Freund had finally shot her first black-and-white portraits of the writer, taken on the spot and almost unbeknownst to the visually-impaired Joyce. The following year, Freund fought hard to photograph Joyce in color: "It was Sylvia Beach who found the trick. An Irishman who felt intimately linked to his novelistic characters, Joyce was also very superstitious. It just so happened that my husband's name was the same as one of the heroes in Ulysses", Freund wrote in her personal notebook. Thanks to the magical invocation of Blum's name (so close to Leopold Bloom) the writer overcame his aversion of color portraiture, a technique Freund was one of the first to master. The session happened over two days, March 8 and 9, 1939, and can easily be described as one of the most emotionally charged events of Gisèle Freund's young career, not to mention Joyce's. The first day ended with the infamous cab accident that Freund considered as supernatural intervention:
"I'm leaving at 5 a.m. - Taxi - crash - devices on the ground. I cry in despair. At home, I immediately telephone Joyce 'M. Joyce, you damned my photos - you put some kind of a sad Irish spell on them and my cab crashed. I was almost killed and your photos are ruined.' Hear Joyce gasping over the phone. So I was right - he had wished me bad luck. Silence. then [he said] 'come back to-morrow' "
The negatives emerged unscathed from the cab accident. This portrait was undoubtedly shot on first day of the session before the accident, showing an anxious Joyce carefully avoiding the camera's gaze. The event was meticulously documented by Freund, who devotes more pages to it in her notebook than to the hundred or so other subjects she photographed between 1938 and 1940:
"He had donned a red indoor jacket and his long, sensitive hands wore several rings. He seemed quite unhappy at the idea of being photographed, and gave me worried looks. His nervousness got the better of me: I began to drop objects, and the atmosphere became increasingly tense. [...] I pressed the shutter release and finished my film as quickly as possible, before promising the patient that this time, I'd really never bother him again. Clearly relieved, he kept me on for a few more minutes, and we talked about Finnegan's Wake, speculating on how it would be received by critics and audiences alike. By the end, my interlocutor's voice had become weak, exhausted; he spoke of death - his death - predicting that Finnegan's Wake would be his last book. I assured him that after years of intense work, all writers are depressed, exhausted; that he was still young (he was only 56)".
A rare variant of Joyce's portrait published on the cover of Time Magazine, following the publication of his last masterpiece Finnegan's Wake (1939).
Quotes from Gisèle Freund's notebook and diary are from Monique Sicard, "Photographier James Joyce", Genesis, 40 | 2015.
Portrait by Pierre-Louis Pierson of Virginia Oldoïni, Countess of Castiglione. Original silver print, enlarged from the original glass plate negative by Maison Braun circa 1895-1910, matted and framed. Penciled number on verso.
In July 1856, the Countess de Castiglione visited the Paris studio of the Mayer brothers and Pierre Louis Pierson, photographer to the imperial court. Her first portraits marked the beginning of a collaboration that would last almost forty years. The dandy writer Robert de Montesquiou wrote The Divine Countess (1913) in her honor and was fascinated by her photo portraits which he devotedly collected. She inspired Emile Zola's bewitching character of Clorinde Balbi in His Excellency Eugène Rougon (1876).
This photograph was taken at the creative peak of the Countess of Castiglione who brought the Emperor of France and the King of Italy to her feet. The "most beautiful woman of her century" is shown in an exquisite ball gown, true regalia of this ruler of Paris society whose self-portraits marked the history of photography.
The countess left hundreds of photographic portraits in lieu of memoirs, recording her brilliant journey as an intriguante at the heart of the European courts. This portrait belongs to the most creative period of her artistic activity with photographer Pierson, between 1861 and 1867, during her second stay in Paris. Her appearances in society were already becoming rarer, after the whirlwind years of 1856-58 when she was a key figure in political intrigues between France and Italy. She purposefully chose her own costumes, angles, and shots for her portraits. Her techniques of self-portraits anticipated that of contemporary photographers such as Cindy Sherman, Sophie Calle and Claude Cahun. With her haughty bearing and scornful gaze, she offers an imposing silhouette worthy of a royal portrait, her fingers intertwined on her dress. The gold-embroidered corselet and dark "bookmark" skirt panels exploit the chiaroscuro of the photograph to their advantage. Her allure is further accentuated by her famous “Ceres” hairstyle, perched in a heavy braid above her head and tied with a wide bow resting nonchalantly on her bare shoulder.
It was at a ball that the countess was first introduced to her most prestigious conquest Napoleon III and consummated her royal affair. The countess's life epically or tragically played out during balls, sometimes seen as Italy's liberator or as a scandalous demi-mondaine with excessively indecent outfits. Her faithful acolyte Pierson photographed her immediately after the events in which she was the main attraction. As she slipped from queen of high society to paranoid recluse, her obsession with photography prolonged those hours of social glory. Her portraits remain an immortal witness to those earlier social performances where she sported the same enigmatic gaze.
A sublime portrait of the Castiglione in ball attire, a femme fatale wrapped in worn finery and armed only with the expressive power of her gaze.
