Catalogue March 2026

First edition, on ordinary paper, of the French translation.
A small tear restored at the foot of the spine, a pleasing copy.
Letter-preface by Jean Cocteau, preface by Somerset Maugham.
Illustrated cover with a portrait of the Aga Khan by Kees Van Dongen, with iconography.

Rare and precious signed autograph presentation from the Aga Khan to Madame Avrillier.

 

First edition with all first printing  features, one of the press copies.

Exceptional presentation copy inscribed by the author to the famous singer Yvette Guilbert, to whom Céline himself sang and offered one of his scandalous compositions, “Katika la putain,” [Katika the Whore] later renamed “À Nœud coulant” [With a Slipknot"] "A madame Yvette Guilbert en témoignage de ma profonde admiration. LFCéline.” 

Beneath Céline's inscription, the actor Fabrice Luchini added: “A Yvette Guilbert in memoriam. FLuchini” ; and on the half-title, actor Jean-François Balmer wrote in turn: “Merci en bon voyage. JFBalmer.”

With pasted-in entry tickets to their respective performances of Voyage au bout de la nuit at the Comédie des Champs-Élysées for Luchini, and at the Théâtre de l’Œuvre for Balmer.

First edition, one of 20 numbered copies on Japan paper, the smallest issue of the deluxe edition, along with 20 on Arches.

Spine and covers marginally faded and sunned as usual, with minor paper losses at the flaps.

Illustrated with 8 original lithographs by Georges Annenkoff.

As with all copies from the deluxe issue, this copy includes the complete double suite of illustrations on vellum and on China paper.

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 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.

"CLAC: Cercle Littéraire des amis des caves / Cercle libre des amateurs de cuisse." ["Literary Circle of cellar friends / Free circle of thigh enthusiasts."]

On the verso of this sheet, manuscript notes by Vian probably in view of animating this circle which, to our knowledge, was never created:

"Tableau d'affichage - signé le troglodyte de la semaine" [...] "Manifestes à faire signer toutes les semaines." ["Notice board - signed the troglodyte of the week" [...] "Manifestos to have signed every week."]

- A perforated slip taken from a school notebook sheet reproducing the stanza "Pour venir au Tabou" ["To come to the Tabou"] and the following one, also in Boris Vian's hand. The first stanza does not appear in its entirety on the main sheet. A trace of adhesive on the verso.
- A perforated sheet typed on machine, fair copy of the manuscript. At the bottom right, the date "1948-1949" is indicated.

This song - one of Vian's very first - is a true Saint-Germain anthem, which was never performed outside the cellars. It prefigures the famous Manuel de Saint-Germain-des-Prés which would not appear until 1974. It was transcribed, with the stanzas in a different order, in volume 11 of Boris Vian's Œuvres complètes devoted to his songs, but certain verses crossed out in our manuscript remain quite readable and unpublished: "Quand on n'sait pas danser / Il vaut mieux s'en passer" ["When one doesn't know how to dance / It's better to do without"].
Alexandre Astruc, cited twice in the song, testifies in his memoirs to the creation of this one:

This ribald song was indeed written in the last breaths of the Tabou, most famous club-cellar founded in 1947 where Boris Vian reigned supreme, surrounded by other illustrious personalities cited in this tableau:

"Les gens de Saint-Germain
S'amusent comme des gamins
ls lisent du Jean-Paul Sartre
En mangeant de la tartre." ["The people of Saint-Germain
Have fun like kids
They read Jean-Paul Sartre
While eating tart."]

Two stanzas pay homage to the mythical cellar of rue Dauphine:

"Pour venir au Tabou
Faut être un peu zazou
Faut porter la barbouze
Et relever son bénouze - Dans une ambiance exquise
On mouille sa chemise
Et quand y'a trop d'pétard
Ça finit au mitard" ["To come to the Tabou
You have to be a bit zazou
You have to wear the beard
And lift your trousers - In an exquisite atmosphere
One soaks one's shirt
And when there's too much racket
It ends in solitary"] while two others evoke the future of the zazous: "Mais quand nous serons vieux
Tout ira bien mieux
On s'paiera des p'tites filles
Pour s'occuper la quille - Et on viendra toujours
Fidèle a ses amours
Au Cercle Saint-Germain
Pour y voir des gens bien." ["But when we are old
Everything will be much better
We'll pay for little girls
To occupy our time - And we'll always come
Faithful to our loves
To the Saint-Germain Circle
To see good people there."]

This new evocation of the "Circle" added to the "clac" annotations at the head of the sheet might suggest that Vian wished to create a collective that would survive beyond the Tabou. Whatever the case, at the time of the creation of this anthem to the "people of Saint-Germain," the Club Saint-Germain was born, a new cellar more "select" than its elder which would become Paris's first jazz venue.

Provenance: Boris Vian Foundation.

First edition, one of 115 numbered copies on alfa paper, the only deluxe copies aside from 35 on pure thread.

Two small spots of foxing on the front cover, a discreet crease, a handsome copy as issued.
 
Rare and highly sought after in deluxe paper.

Original photographic portrait of Sigmund Freud, in silver print made later by Engelman from the original negative.

After the Night of Broken Glass, the young Jewish photographer Edmund Engelman (1907-2000) fled to the United States leaving behind his precious but compromising negatives of his clandestine photography. He did not recover them until after the Second World War, in 1952, from the psychoanalyst's daughter Anna Freud.
Handwritten inscription signed by photographer Edmund Engelman in the lower margin of the photograph: “à Nadine Nimier Cordialement Edmund Engelman” (“To Nadine Nimier Sincerely Edmund Engelman”).
Nadine Nimier was the wife of the writer Roger Nimier. She hosted “Les après-midi de France Culture”, a show in which she received some well-known and highly respected psychoanalysts, namely Jacques Lacan and Françoise Dolto. It was on 20 January 1980 that she interviewed Edmund Engelman, then on a visit to Paris for the exhibition of his photographs at the Erval Gallery.

A beautiful portrait of the founder of psychoanalysis taken in May 1938, shortly before his departure from Vienna to London.

One hundred and six photographs were taken during Engelman's clandestine visit to Freud at 19 Berggasse in Vienna. Many of these photographs depicting the psychoanalyst's practice and art collection are known, but the artist only took a few portraits of the master. This photographic session was carried out at the request of August Aichhorn and bears witness to the last moments of the birthplace of psychoanalysis, a discipline from this point forward banned by the Nazi regime:
“On Sunday 13 March, a meeting of the management committee of the Viennese Psychoanalytical Society took place and two decisions were taken: all members of the Society must leave the country as quickly as possible and the headquarters of the Society must be at the place where Freud will settle.” (“August Aichhorn et la figure paternelle: fragments biographiques et cliniques” in Recherches en psychanalyse n° 1, 2004)

Edmund Engelman in his book entitled La Maison de Freud Berggasse 19 Vienne published in 1979 recounts:
“I remember both my excitement and my fear, that rainy morning of May 1938, as I walked through the deserted streets of Vienna towards 19, Berggasse. I carried my cameras, tripod, lenses and film in a small suitcase that seemed to get heavier with each step. I was convinced that anyone who saw me would know that I was going to see Dr Sigmund Freud, to accomplish a mission that the Nazis would not have appreciated. [...] I was afraid that there was not enough light to photograph the interior of Freud's house. Using flash or spotlights was out of the question as the Gestapo kept the house under constant surveillance. This unique document on the place where Freud had lived and worked over the past forty years, would have to be executed without arousing the slightest suspicion.

I feared for my own safety as for the lives of the Freuds, and did not want to compromise myself by a misstep when they were so close to leaving Vienna safe and sound. [...] One weekend in 1933, at the summer residence of a friend, outside of the city, I had the pleasure of meeting a certain August Aichhorn who was closely interested in the highly controversial field of psychoanalysis and was, to my keen curiosity, a close friend of the famous professor Freud. [...] We quickly became good friends. [...] He confided to me that Freud, after a terrible harassment (raid of his house by the Nazis, detention of his daughter Anna), had finally received permission to leave for London, thanks to the intervention of senior figures and foreign diplomats. The Freuds, he told me, would set out within ten days. The famous apartment and its offices would be disrupted by the move and the departure of the owners. We agreed that it would be of the greatest interest to the history of psychoanalysis to undertake a precious and detailed testimony of the place where it had been born, so that, according to the courageous expression of Aichhorn, “it would be possible to erect a museum when the storm of the years is over. [...] Knowing my interest and my quality as a photographer, he asked me if I felt able to take photographs of Freud's house. I was enthusiastic. [...] Above all, I was eager to know Freud who had then entrenched himself in his private life and had little relationship with the outside world.” (Engelman, La Maison de Freud Berggasse 19 Vienne, 1979)
The photographer then explained that Freud, very weakened by illness, was supposed to be absent during the photography session, however, “The next day – the third day – while I was about to take some complementary photographs of the office (experiencing there for the first time a feeling of routine), I heard small rapid footsteps approaching. It was Freud. He had changed his usual routine unexpectedly and, returning to his work room, he found me there. We looked at each other with equal astonishment. I was confused and embarrassed. He seemed worried, but remained calm and placid. I simply did not know what to say so I remained silent. Fortunately, Aichhorn then appeared in the room and immediately gauged the situation. He explained to Freud the purpose of my work and introduced me. We shook hands, obviously relieved. [...] I asked him if I could photograph him. He kindly consented and asked me to continue my shooting as I pleased. [...] I even suggested, if it could be useful, and to avoid trouble or wasting time, to take the necessary photos for the passports. [...] Freud, at my request, looked slightly in profile, took off his glasses, and reacted with a smile to one of those remarks that photographers make while they prepare.”
The photograph described by Engelman is without question the one we offer. Despite the very detailed description of this unusual photograph, it has not been preserved for the illustration of the book.

This very rare photographic portrait of the founder of psychoanalysis was taken a few days before his exile and revealing the stigma of a cancer that will be fatal to him.
It iss the only image of him revealing a smile.

First edition illustrated with 48 color lithographs by the author, one of a few named copies on japon reserved for the principal collaborators of the publication, ours specially printed for the celebrated bibliophile Colonel Sickles, deluxe issue.

This copy is complete, as stipulated in the justification, with the duplicate set of lithographs in black and in color.

The work is also illustrated with 40 decorated initials designed by the prestigious bookbinder Paul Bonet.

This is Maurice de Vlaminck's most important illustrated book, which took him nearly ten years to complete.

A fine copy, complete with its slipcase and box.

Extremely important edition, comprising a large number of works appearing here in their first edition. The complete set of these 27 volumes is rare (Clouzot). The titles present in first edition are: Mattea, Lettres d’un Voyageur, La Dernière Aldini, Les Maîtres mosaïstes, L’Uscoque, Spiridion, Les Sept Cordes de la lyre, Gabriel, Pauline, and Un hiver à Majorque.
Illustrated with a portrait of the author at the head of the first volume.

Bound in contemporary half brown sheep, spines uniformly faded, with four raised bands decorated with double gilt panels, double gilt fillets at head and foot, marbled-paper boards, marbled endpapers and pastedowns, marbled edges, a few very lightly rubbed corners, contemporary bindings. Some occasional foxing, a light dampstain affecting the final leaves of the twenty-first volume.

A very rare complete set, in contemporary bindings.

First edition printed in 130 copies, all nominative and numbered, on Rives vellum.
Full chocolate-brown morocco binding, spine with four double raised bands framed by black fillets extending onto the covers, gilt date at foot, gilt rolls on the caps, endpapers and pastedowns of hand-made paper, quintuple gilt fillet borders on the pastedowns, double gilt fillets on the board edges, original wrappers and spine preserved, top edge gilt.
Illustrated with a frontispiece, 15 plates and 6 vignettes by Georges Leroux engraved on copper by Raoul Serres.
This copy is supplemented, at the end of the volume, with a suite of the 22 illustrations together with the printed menu for the dinner of 30 June 1930 of the Société bibliophilique des "Cent centraux bibliophiles".
In addition, the work includes, mounted on a tab, four original preparatory sketches in black pencil and, following them, an original drawing by Georges Leroux, dated, signed, and executed for the representation of the menu of the dinner of 30 June 1930 held by the "Cent centraux bibliophiles".
Manuscript signatures of Rosny aîné and Raoul Serres on the verso of the original menu drawing.
A very handsome copy accompanied by five original drawings by Georges Leroux, finely bound in full morocco.

Rare poster-catalogue of the exhibition “Les gens sont bien plus beaux qu'ils croient. Vive leur vraie figure. “People are much more beautiful than they believe. Long live their true face. Portraits.” by Jean Dubuffet at the Galerie René Drouin which took place from 7 to 31 October 1947.
Beautiful copy of this catalogue, in poster format, two folds, one horizontal and one vertical, facilitating the storage of this document which presents as four-leaf journal illustrated with portraits of writers and artists such as Henri Michaux, Henri Calet, René Bertelé, Francis Ponge, Antonin Artaud, Jean Fautrier...
Text by Jean Dubuffet entitled “Causette”.
Rare.

First edition illustrated with 15 original copperplate engravings, including 10 in color, by Maurice de Vlaminck, one of 250 numbered copies on Arches laid paper.

The work is also illustrated with 2 portraits by Amedeo Modigliani depicting Maurice de Vlaminck and his wife.

Full Empire green morocco binding, spine with two prominent raised bands extending as triangles in blind on the covers, spine decorated with three gilt lozenges with gilt title and separated by a transverse gilt bar, marbled paper endpapers and pastedowns, triple gilt fillets framing the pastedowns, covers and spine preserved, top edge gilt, Empire green morocco-edged slipcase, marbled paper boards, contemporary binding signed by the workshops of C. Muller, Nancy bookbinder.

Manuscript signature by Maurice de Vlaminck in pencil below his frontispiece portrait.

Spine slightly darkened, otherwise a handsome copy.

First edition illustrated with 11 original black woodcut engravings by Paul-Emile Colin and 15 original engravings and typographical ornaments printed in bistre by Pierre-Eugène Vibert, one of 25 numbered copies on Japan paper containing a collection of artist's proofs by both painter-engravers on China paper.
Full mauve morocco binding, faded spine with five raised bands, gilt date at foot, some rubbing to bands and joints, watered silk endpapers in mauve, brown morocco doublure decorated with vegetal and floral frieze executed with brown and violet mosaic morocco pieces, covers and spine preserved, all edges gilt, slipcase with mauve morocco entry, faded, marbled paper boards, binding signed Canape.
Copy perfectly executed in a full morocco binding with doublure by Canape.

Edition illustrated with 10 original color lithographs hors-texte by Jean-Gabriel Domergue, one of 40 numbered copies on Rives vellum.
Half red morocco binding with bands, smooth spine, date gilt at tail, boards, endpapers and pastedowns of moiré and gilt effect paper, covers and spine preserved, top edge gilt, contemporary binding signed Gauché.
The work is also ornamented with 26 illustrations in the text, in one or two tones, as chapter headpieces, tailpieces in red by Jean-Gabriel Domergue.
Handsome copy containing the full suite of 18 in-text illustrations.
Manuscript annotation in blue ballpoint pen on the title page: unique copy.
Indeed, on two hors-texte lithographs (including the frontispiece) and two in-text illustrations representing women clothed or nude, pieces of tulle have been added as dresses.
Furthermore, at the end of the volume, numerous press clippings relating to the life and style of Jean-Gabriel Domergue have been pasted onto the endpapers.
Signed autograph inscription by Pierre Harel-Darc, the dedicatee's name having been properly erased enriched with a signed autograph inscription by Jean-Gabriel Domergue enhanced with an original drawing representing the face of a Parisian woman.

First edition printed with 750 numbered copies on Arches Velin and planned for the exhibition of Léger's works organised at the Louis Carré gallery from 19 November to 31 December 1954, for which the catalogue has been published only two years after the retrospective.

Work illustrated with original lithographs by Fernand Léger: 6 unpaged colour plates, two of which are double pages, 5 black and white unpaged plates and 10 within the text.

A beautiful copy despite slight rubbing to the caps.

First edition, one of 450 numbered copies on Holland paper.
Work illustrated with 35 original woodcuts by Fernand Siméon.
Full brown morocco binding, smooth spine decorated with a vertical band of black mosaic morocco, black roulettes on the headcaps, slight rubbing to the upper headcap, gilt title struck to the center of the first cover, covers decorated with a large diamond and a wide horizontal band of black mosaic morocco, endpapers and pastedowns of paper with gilt floral motifs and moiré effect, frame of vertical and horizontal bands of black mosaic morocco on the pastedowns, covers and spine preserved, top edge gilt, double black fillets on the leading edges, slipcase with brown morocco entry, covers of paper with gilt floral motifs and moiré effect, perfect Art Deco binding signed A. Pinard-Lefort.
Handsome copy perfectly executed in a beautiful Art Deco binding.

First edition illustrated with text illustrations and plates by Hermann Vogel and ornaments by Adolphe Giraldon, one of 60 numbered copies on China paper, the only deluxe copies after 20 on Japan.
Full blue morocco binding, spine very slightly faded with five raised bands, date and place gilt at foot, gilt borders on the headcaps, gilt fillet border on the pastedowns in full purple morocco, purple watered silk endpapers, following endpapers of combed paper, covers preserved, all edges gilt, double gilt fillets on the edges, slipcase edged with blue morocco, marbled paper boards, superb full morocco binding with doublure signed Blanchetière Bretault.
Each plate appears in triple state in our copy.
Very handsome copy free from foxing established in a magnificent full morocco binding with doublure by Blanchetière Bretault.

First edition, strictly hors commerce and printed in a small number of copies.
Rare and handsome copy. 
Beautiful autograph inscription signed by Pierre Guyotat:

"B
 E
 A
Pour Francis Ponge, ce B.A. = BA de l'écriture, où s'intercale le "E" de l'étouffement, Pierre Guyotat, le 19 Avril 1973." ["For Francis Ponge, this B.A. = the ABC of writing, where the "E" of suffocation intercedes, Pierre Guyotat, 19 April 1973."]

First edition, one of the 100 numbered copies on Holland paper, the only deluxe copies ("grand papier").
Very nice copy.

First edition of the theatrical adaptation.
Bound in half red shagreen, spine in four compartments set with gilt stipples adorned with double gilt spine panels, marbled paper plates, marbled endpapers, contemporary binding.
Precious handwritten presentation signed by George Sand: “à monsieur Huart en lui demandant pardon de tout le mal que je lui donne.” “To Mr Huart asking for his forgiveness for all the harm I am causing him.”

Provenance: from the Grandsire library with its ex-libris.

First edition, one of 230 numbered copies on Auvergne paper, ours one of 75 not-for-sale copies, the only printing after 10 copies on China and a few hors commerce copies; this copy specially printed for René Daumal.
 
Frontispiece illustrated with an original lithograph by Étienne Cournault.
Very faint, insignificant foxing to the margins of the covers.
A handsome copy complete with its original wraparound band.
 
Exceptional and superb signed autograph inscription dated 27 December 1936 from René Daumal to his future partner Véra Milanova : « à Véra Milanova – à toi Véra, d'abord ces anciens mensonges (que je n'ai pu nourrir qu'en ton absence) pour leur faire une sépulture définitive ; puis ces quelques ombres de vérités que tu m'as aidé à comprendre ; mais surtout, Véra, je préfère te dédier une grande page blanche, neuve, invisible, où nous écrirons sans mots notre histoire. Prends ce petit tombeau d'un ancien René Daumal, de la main de ton Nasha. 27 décembre 1936. »

First edition, one of 90 numbered copies on laid Arches paper, the only deluxe copies (grand papier) after 10 Montval.

Beautiful copy.