Printed calling card on which André Malraux added, in blue ballpoint pen, these few words for his friends Minka and Karl Hans Strauss:
"I am touched, dear friends, by the affectionate part you take in my grief... And what else is there to say?..."
Newspaper Clipping Annotated by Paul Éluard
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 letter signed by the dandy count, 46 lines written in black ink recto-verso, on Hotel de France de Pau letterhead, addressed to a poet friend.
Fold marks inherent to postal handling.
The poet expresses surprise at his friend's reproaches: "Pourquoi parlez-vous du mal que je pourrais vous faire ?... Alors il faudrait bien essayer, pour ne pas vous désobéir mais il me semble que je m'y mettrai sans conviction." (Why do you speak of the harm I could do to you?... Then I would have to try, so as not to disobey you, but it seems to me I would do so without conviction.) and leans rather toward a misunderstanding of his words: "Est-ce donc ainsi que vous avez interprété ma grande, dirai-je ma belle lettre à Lapauze (elle a droit aux anthologies)? Mais, dans ce cas, elle serait comminatoire. Si elle l'est, ce n'est pas pour vous." (Is this how you interpreted my great, I would say my beautiful letter to Lapauze (it deserves to be anthologized)? But, in that case, it would be threatening. If it is, it is not meant for you.)
But the poet-count-dandy does not hold it too much against her: "En attendant, ce qui est certain, c'est que je réciterai vos poèmes inédits, à l'inauguration du musée Ingres." (In the meantime, what is certain is that I will recite your unpublished poems at the inauguration of the Ingres museum.)
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).
Ronéotype réalisé par Boris Vian de son manuscrit original, avec ajout autographe du titre : "Le penseur" et deux corrections autogrpahes, nouvelle initialement parue dans la revue Dans le train n°15, 1949, puis publiée dans le recueil posthume Le Loup-Garou en 1970.
Sans doute réalisé pour conserver une copie de sa nouvelle, avant l'envoi à la revue Dans le train, ce ronéotype du manuscrit originale signé a été conservé dans les archives de l'écrivain jusqu'à sa mort. les deux corrections autogrpahes et le titre au crayon semble indiquer que Boris Vian avait prévu une nouvelle publication.
Cette biogaphie express de la courte vie d'un philosophe de génie : Urodonal Carrier, était destinée à être lue le temps d'un trajet en transport en commun. Elle fait partie douze textes que Boris Vian publia entre 1948 et 1950 dans la revue humoristique Dans le train.
Provenance : Fondation Boris Vian.
Original autograph manuscript, 8 pages on 4 squared leaves, extensively revised and signed by Boris Vian. Subtle horizontal folds.
This short story, written on 7 June 1948 according to Noël Arnaud, was first published in issue no. 2 of the magazine Dans le train, and later included in the collection Le Loup Garou. The manuscript differs slightly from the printed versions.
Original autograph manuscript of a short story by Boris Vian, written in 1945 and published posthumously in the collection Le Loup-Garou in 1970.
Highly dense manuscript of 17 pages on 9 sheets, written in black ink with deletions and corrections, on perforated graph paper, dated “25.10.45” at the end of the text. One of the very rare manuscripts dated by the author.
Exceptional manuscript of Boris Vian’s first short story, written at the age of 25, just a few months after the Liberation.
Original autograph manuscript of Boris Vian's short story, first published in the magazine Une bouteille à la Mer, no.72, in 1952, then included in Vercoquin et le plancton and republished posthumously in the 1970 collection Le Loup-Garou.
Heavily revised manuscript, written in blue ink on the recto of each sheet, with corrections in purple ink and black pencil.
Ronéotype réalisé par Boris Vian de son manuscrit original, avec ajout autographe du titre : "L'amour est aveugle", nouvelle initialement parue dans la revue Paris-Tabou n°1 de 1949, puis publiée dans le recueil posthume Le Loup-Garou en 1970.
Sans doute réalisé pour conserver une copie de sa nouvelle, avant l'envoi à la revue Paris-Tabou, ce ronéotype du manuscrit originale signé a été conservé dans les archives de l'écrivain jusqu'à sa mort.
Ecrit d'un seul jet et comportant très peu de corrections, il témoigne de la créativité de l'écrivain et de son univers onirique hors du commun.
Provenance : Fondation Boris Vian.
Important original autograph manuscript, signed, of Boris Vian’s short story written in 1950, first published in Bizarre no. 32–33 in 1964, and later included in the posthumous collection Le Loup-Garou in 1970.
With Vian’s autograph name and address at the head of the manuscript.
Extensively revised manuscript, written in blue and violet ink on the versos of each leaf, with a pasted slip of corrections mounted to page 13.
A striking work of speculative fiction in which Boris Vian prophesies artificial intelligence as a conversational module drawing on the integration of encyclopedic data:
“The model you see here is designed to acquire the complete knowledge contained in the sixteen volumes of the Larousse Grand Encyclopedic Memo of 1978 […]. It is an administrative machine, Florence. It is meant to serve as an adviser (…). For every request for information (…), it will provide (…) the typical answer of an extensive French culture. In all circumstances it will indicate the course of action to follow, (…) explain what it is about and how to behave (…). It must absorb everything. It only has a chance of balanced behaviour if it knows everything. Only on this condition can it remain objective and impartial.”
Unlike the utopias of his time, Vian’s narrator does not imagine an A.I. with its own thought and sensibility, but rather a true aggregator of knowledge equipped with an autonomous and efficient search engine. Paradoxically, its sensibility becomes the cause of its downfall: after absorbing Toi et moi, Paul Géraldy’s sentimental romance, the machine falls in love and ultimately assaults its creator.
Anticipating Google and ChatGPT more than fifty years before their emergence, Vian’s little futuristic tale above all stages the dynamics of human relationships, the real subject of the story, in which he joyfully inverts the conventions of seduction.
A very rare signed literary manuscript by Boris Vian.
Provenance: Boris Vian Foundation.
