A precious book, a beautiful gift for Christmas

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.

"Je me suis fait Monsieur, une loi de ne rien changer au texte de mes anciens ouvrages, afin que ceux qui les ont achetés autrefois ne soient pas obligés de les racheter aujourd'hui. De là il est arrivé, que j'ai laissé aux différentes personnes chargées de revoir les différents textes le soin de corriger les fautes d'impression. Et mes devoirs à remplir à la chambre des pairs m'ont encore empêché ces derniers temps, de surveiller les épreuves. Je vous remercie Monsieur, de votre intérêt : j'avertirai M. Ladvocat, et s'il le faut, des cartons seront faits et envoyés aux souscripteurs.
J'ai l'honneur d'être, Monsieur, avec toute la reconnaissance possible, et la considération la plus distinguée
Votre très humble et très obéissant serviteur
Chateaubriand" ["I have made it a rule, Sir, to change nothing in the text of my old works, so that those who bought them in the past are not obliged to buy them again today. Hence it has happened that I have left to the various persons charged with reviewing the different texts the task of correcting printing errors. And my duties to fulfill in the House of Peers have further prevented me lately from supervising the proofs. I thank you, Sir, for your interest: I will notify M. Ladvocat, and if necessary, corrections will be made and sent to subscribers.
I have the honor to be, Sir, with all possible gratitude, and the most distinguished consideration
Your very humble and very obedient servant
Chateaubriand"]

Autograph letter signed by Marguerite Yourcenar, dated 23 January 1957, two pages in black ink on a single sheet, with the original envelope included.
On two densely written pages, Yourcenar confides her editorial frustrations to her close friend, the painter Elie Grekoff, recounting the blasphemous act of her publisher, who had torn in "en deux ou plutôt en quatre" [‘two or rather four’] the dedicated copy of her poetry collection Les Charités d’Alcippe (1956) and returned it to her by post. She discusses joint projects with Grekoff and requests that he accept the profits from a work he illustrated for her.

Yourcenar writes from the United States, which she joined in 1939 with her companion Grace Frick, then a professor of British literature in New York. From 1950 onwards, they settled on Mont Déserts Island, bordering Canada, in a house named Petite-Plaisance, which she mentions in the handwritten letterhead. Amidst the wild nature and crystalline lakes, she would write there some of her most celebrated works, including The Abyss. Through the text, we catch fleeting images of the author’s reclusive existence: « Ici, travail abrutissant, favorisé par les grands froids, qui font qu'on ne sort qu'un bref moment, ou quand on y est obligé. Correction d'épreuves, correspondance en retard depuis des mois, traduction, et enfin le livre en train [...] les journaux arrivent très régulièrement, et si vite, dans le cas du Monde, que j'apprends par lui les nouvelles de New York avant d'avoir le temps d'aller au village acheter le New York Times » [“The work here is grueling, compounded by the bitter cold, so that one ventures outside only for a short while, or out of necessity. Proofreading, months of overdue letters, translation, and finally the book underway […] the newspapers come so promptly and consistently, particularly Le Monde, that I hear the New York news from it before I even manage to go to the village and buy the New York Times”.]
The most poignant passage of the letter concerns her stormy dealings with her publisher Curvers, regarding her neoclassical-spirited poetry collection Les Charités d'Alcippe. Yourcenar recounts the publisher’s unforgivable act, enraged by her reproaches over the premature release of the collection: "Toute la légalité (et le sens commun) sont de mon côté, mais cela n'a pas empêché l'irascible liégeois de me renvoyer un ex. des 'Charités d'Alcippe' déchiré en deux ou plutôt en quatre. L'époque est à la violence  [‘All legality (and common sense) was on my side, yet that irascible man from Liège still sent me back a copy of Les Charités d'Alcippe, torn in two-or rather, in four. These are times defined by violence.’] “The affair of the gentleman from Liège,” as mentioned in the letter, ultimately resulted in a full-fledged legal dispute through attorneys. The writer’s uncompromising standards and constant concern for copyright earned her several disputes, including two lawsuits—one with the director Jean Marchat, and another with her publisher Plon.

The letter’s recipient, Élie Grekoff (1914–1985), painter, illustrator, and master bookbinder, remained a close confidant of the writer for decades and collaborated with her on several editorial and theatrical projects. Among his contributions, he designed the scenery for her Sartre-inspired play, Electre ou la chute des masques, which premiered at the Théâtre des Mathurins. The letter also bears witness to two of their artistic collaborations: the edition of a Latin classic and of a renowned Hindu poem, the Gita-Govinda, both annotated by Yourcenar and illustrated by Grekoff.

In a few beautifully gracious lines, Yourcenar entreats him to accept the proceeds, probably stemming from the 1956 publication of Laevius’s Bagatelles d’Amour: "merci Elie, et je vous en prie, considérez les trente huit mille qui restent comme vôtres, puisque nous n'en avons que faire en ce moment. Et quand je dis comme vôtres, je ne parle pas seulement comme vous le faisiez, du cas de force majeure, guerre, accident ou maladie, mais aussi en vue de rendre un peu plus commode la vie journalière - provisions de charbon, si l'on peut de nouveau en faire, ou achat de sympathiques conserves et repas au restaurant qui vous éviteront l'ennui de faire la cuisine quand vous préféreriez dessiner".   [‘thank you, Élie, and I beg you to regard the remaining thirty-eight thousand as entirely yours, for we have no need of them at present. And when I say “yours,” I do not mean only, as you did, in cases of force majeure, war, accident, or illness, but also to make daily life a little more convenient - coal supplies, if they can be had again, or the purchase of pleasant preserves and meals at a restaurant, sparing you the tedium of cooking when you would rather be drawing’.]

A delightful and copious letter from the first woman to be elected to the Académie Française, confronting her publisher and confiding to a trusted friend her fight to safeguard the integrity of her work.

Autograph letter dated and signed by Jacques Chardonne addressed to his friend Roger Nimier (54 lines in blue ink) regarding Paul Morand's style, spiritual father of the Hussards, Roger Nimier and Antoine Blondin being considered, much against their will, as leaders of this literary movement.
Fold marks inherent to the letter's mailing, envelope included.
Jacques Chardonne intends to challenge two false ideas concerning Paul Morand, the first being stylistic in nature: "There is a double misunderstanding regarding Morand. He has been seen as a 'modern'... but he is essentially a 'naturalist'; his artistic doctrine is exactly that of Maupassant and Flaubert." holding the latter as a major writer: "But he has infinitely more talent and intelligence than the writers of the naturalist school." ; the second of a psychological nature: "He is hygiene and wisdom incarnate, in his person. But through his work he has debased the youth who came after him. It is he who nearly killed Sagan."
Jacques Chardonne then ironizes about Françoise Sagan's talents while exalting the predominance and mastery of his friend Paul Morand in everything he undertakes: "It is Morand who bought Sagan's terrible cars. But he knows how to drive." while recalling the cautious advice that Bernard Frank gave to the author of Bonjour tristesse : "Bernard Frank says: your car doesn't hold the road... Sagan, vexed, accelerates. And everything capsizes."
As a literary elder brother, Jacques Chardonne reassures Roger Nimier about his own talent: "Morand is very pleased with you. I say that Gaston (Gallimard) seems to have much friendship for you." and congratulates his correspondent on the quality of Artaban, a review to which Roger Nimier contributes, Jacques Chardonne being honored in a recent issue: "... surprised to see myself on the front page; the text fills me with pride. I have scorned honors, in order to be honored. I could not have been better served than in this little text." and attributes the authorship of the text concerning him to one of his Hussard disciples: "... I tell myself: it's Nimier, or Hecquet, or Milliau. Truth be told, I don't know. And I thank the Lord."
Overwhelmed by so many tributes paid to him, Jacques Chardonne, lucid, prefers to avoid being too much in the spotlight: "That is why I no longer want to publish anything. As soon as one applauds you, you must leave."
Very handsome letter from Jacques Chardonne praising his friend Paul Morand, spiritual father of the Hussards, and evoking Françoise Sagan's terrible car accident in an Aston Martin on April 13, 1957. A premonitory evocation: Roger Nimier would kill himself five years later on the western highway, on September 28, 1962, also at the wheel of an Aston Martin.

Autograph letter dated and signed by Antoni Tàpies addressed to his close friend the art critic Georges Raillard, the greatest French specialist of his work (19 lines in blue ballpoint pen from Barcelona).
Fold marks inherent to the letter's envelope placement, envelope included.
Having directed the French Institute of Barcelona from 1964 to 1969, Georges Raillard formed friendships and collaborated with numerous Spanish and Catalan artists including Joan Miro and Antoni Tapies, whose biographies he would also write.
The Catalan artist relays the notion of "art impliqué" recently employed in Catalonia: "... je viens de voir une citation... dans laquelle on dit "art impliqué" - que nous avions pensé que était intraduisible, ou que n'avait pas de sens en français - " ["... I just saw a quote... in which they say 'art impliqué' - which we had thought was untranslatable, or had no meaning in French - "] and used previously: "... une expression qu'avait été employé par Etienne Souriau en France et que le jeune esteticien catalan Robert de Ventos s'aurait approprié..." ["... an expression that had been used by Etienne Souriau in France and that the young Catalan aesthetician Robert de Ventos would have appropriated..."]
Antoni Tapies would like to use this "new notion" that is ultimately old in order to make some modifications to their previous joint works: " ? Nous permettrait ça de remettre le titre au chapitre : "Academia del social i l'implicat (mot entouré) qu'on avait laissé par "art fonctionnel" ? Je ne suis pas sûr et je te laisse à toi de décider." ["? Would that allow us to restore the title to the chapter: 'Academia del social i l'implicat' (word circled) that we had left as 'functional art'? I'm not sure and I leave it to you to decide."]
Finally, he congratulates his friend Georges Raillard for his latest preface: "Merci encore une fois pour le préface que tu as fait, que j'ai aimé beaucoup ! " ["Thank you once again for the preface you wrote, which I loved very much!"]

Album of lithographed plates in third state, first cover printed in 3 tones, black, bistre with gradients and white highlights, followed by 24 lithographs in black on 12 double-sided pages.

Gray half calf binding, smooth spine, some foxing, original soft cover preserved, binding signed by Charles Septier.

Created in 1851, this youthful work influenced by Rodolphe Töppfer's style, is now considered an incunabulum of comic strips.

20 full-page lithographs in black by Gustave Doré, in second state.
Red half oblong Bradel-style cloth binding, smooth spine, black morocco title label, marbled paper boards, beige paper endpapers and flyleaves, corners slightly dulled.

First edition, one of 20 copies on Arches paper, most limited deluxe issue (tirage de tête).
Like all copies on Arches, it is wrapped in a double dust jacket in yellow and white, and bears the rare sanguine vignette drawn and engraved by Hans Bellmer.
Preface by Jean Paulhan.

Our copy is housed in a custom clamshell box featuring an original design signed by Julie Nadot.

Beautiful first edition copy of this masterpiece of erotic literature, in its most limited deluxe issue.

First edition, one of 55 numbered copies on pur fil paper, most limited deluxe issue.
Endleaves and half-title slightly and partially shaded.
Exceedingly rare and handsome copy of this seminal text of modern feminism.

Our copy is housed in a custom gray clamshell box, square spine titled in red, author's name and subtitles in black, first panel hollowed revealing a black and white photograph of Simone de Beauvoir as a young woman under a plexiglass, title in red, author's name, first volume number and subtitle in black, second panel hollowed revealing a color photograph of the author in her prime under plexiglass, titled in red, author's name, second volume number and subtitle in black, box lined with burgundy paper, superb work by artist Julie Nadot.

Dans sa triste chambre
Le petit s'endort
Il gèle à pierre fendre
Le froid le dévore

On l'a trouvé dans son lit
Mort dans un sourire
Et Jésus là-haut s'est dit
Ca m'ôte un souci

Je ne sais pourquoi l'on persiste
A ressasser tous ses chagrins
Pourquoi lorsque l'on est trop triste
On veut prendre le dernier train

"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 100 numbered copies on deluxe paper, the only deluxe copies.
Handsome copy presented in sheets under double chemise and slipcase.

Manuscript pages from ‘Conversations with Professor Y', n.p. [Meudon] n.d. [1954], various sizes (from 10x21 cm to 27x21 cm), 34 sheets.
Autograph manuscript by Louis-Ferdinand Céline, 34 sheets of various sizes, written in blue and sometimes pink ballpoint pen. Some of the pages are numbered by Céline at top left. The last folio numbered 159 is signed by the writer at the bottom.
Two leaves contain previously unpublished passages: the first, a few lines long, refers to the Professeur. The second leaf numbered 136 features another full-page text on the verso which we did not find in the ‘Professeur Y' or in any of the published works of Céline. Céline refers in this unpublished passage to article 75 of the penal code condemning to the death penalty any French citizen found guilty of intelligence with the enemy. It also mentions a certain "Me Johann Niels Borggensen" no doubt a pseudonym for his lawyer Thorvald Mikkelsen: "...supposedly to protect me from police curiosity! holy cow! he was having a ball...when you've got the warrant up your arse (crossed out: article 75), anyone can do what they like with you! what a joke! we can do what we like with you...it wouldn't have been Borggensen, perhaps someone else would have been worse...give me article 75, and I'll put the whole of France in a Mouse hole for you! and Germany with it! and England, such a nag, and Europe with it! no bomb needed! H ! Y ! Z ! I'll make you fit the atom into a..."
Important set of working manuscripts bearing witness to the writing of ‘Conversations with Professor Y' Céline's true Ars poetica.
Since the first part of ‘Féerie pour une autre fois' [Fable for Another Time] was not as successful as expected, Céline wanted to give the release of the second part - Normance - as much publicity as possible and restore his reputation after his years of exile in Germany and Denmark. Instead of writing the usual promotional note (prière d'insérer) – he suggested to publisher Gaston Gallimard this eulogy written in the style of an imaginary interview between himself and Professor Y alias Colonel Réséda, a prostatic old man. This zany "interviouwe" was published in several parts in the Nouvelle Revue française in 1954, and the finished work through Éditions Gallimard the following year. Céline speaks fervently of his style and his conception of literature, and vehemently criticizes the world of letters and public taste. Unlike Céline's other works, the genesis of this text crucial to the understanding of his oeuvre is poorly documented and its manuscripts are rare. The Pléiade edition of Celinian novels contains only a few pages of an earlier version very close to the published text.
This set of pages covering every passage of the text, contains both heavily crossed-out sheets and neatly rewritten notes. It bears witness to the different stages of the writer's work: drafting an initial sheet, crossing out and rewriting on the same page, then transcribing short passages on separate notes. The last page of the text is extensively crossed out and rewritten, resulting in a slightly different version of the published version.
The manuscript also contains the famous metaphor of the metro, typical of the writer's emotive style compared here to the "dry language" of his peers: "Did you see? Have you noticed? All caught up in my metro!... what do I leave on the surface?... the worst rubbish in cinema!... foreign languages then!... translations!... retranslations of our worst rubbish that they use for their "parlants" [talking pictures], superb foreign languages!... in addition to the psychology! the psychological mumbo jumbo!... all the crap. [...] Me, it's something else! me, I'm much more brutal! me, I capture all the emotion!... all the emotion on the surface! all at once! I decide! I stick it in the metro! my metro! all the other writers are dead! and they have no idea!"

Actes et paroles - Avant l'exil, 1841-1851 [Words and Deeds - Before the Exile, 1841-1851]
Michel Lévy frères, Paris 1875, 19,5x25cm, bound.
First edition, one of 20 numbered copies on chine, most limited deluxe edition of this important collection of speeches, public declarations, and political texts intended for French parliament (Chamber of Peers, Constituent Assembly and Legislative Assembly), all written - as stated in the title - prior to his exile. These important texts address freedom of the press, theater and education, as well as the abolition of the death penalty.
Half red shagreen binding, smooth spine decorated in gilt lengthwise, marbled paper boards, caillouté pastedowns and endpapers, original covers preserved, top edge gilt over untrimmed edges.
Exceptional and loving signed inscription by Victor Hugo to his daughter-in-law Alice Lehaene - widow of Charles Hugo - and his beloved grandchildren: "To my dear daughter and your sweet mother, my Georges, my Jeanne, [signed:] Papapa" (A ma chère fille et à votre douce mère, mon Georges, ma Jeanne, Papapa).
"We called him Papapa. Legend has it - he surrounded us with legends! - that one morning at Hauteville House, while he was working in that glass cage perched at the top of the house, little Georges came in and said: - Hello Papapa! [...] To hear the son of his son Charles who had just died, pronounce this unknown word, the grandfather was overjoyed for he knew the secret language of children: Georges' stammer made him twice a father, much more than a grandfather. [...] ‘My name is Papapa now,' he said, softly. And until he died, my sister and I called him by this dearest name, which he always cherished" (Georges-Victor Hugo, [My Grandfather] Mon grand-père, Paris: Calmann-Lévy)

In 1871, after the tragic and unexpected death of his son Charles, Victor Hugo became guardian of his two grandchildren Georges and Jeanne. From then on, he played a large part in their upbringing and spent some of the happiest moments of his life with them, reflected in the countless endearing notes about the two children in Choses vues [Things Seen]. Upon the death of his last son François-Victor, he moved in with Georges and Jeanne's mother Alice at 21 rue de Clichy; on the floor below, he lodged Juliette Drouet. This gave him plenty of time to spend with his "little ones", for whom he organized children's dinners and made plenty of toys. The children are the subject of his immensely popular poetry collection, L'Art d'être grand-père (1877) [The Art of Being a Grandfather]. "Its popularity was immediate and its success resounding, so dazzling was his way of celebrating childhood by telling the story of Georges, Jeanne and himself. By putting children's words into verse so naturally and freshly, Georges et Jeanne's "Papapa" has succeeded like no other in exalting "grandparental" feelings. At home, these feelings are not limited to allowing children to leave their toys lying around on manuscripts: when Alice remarried journalist and politician Édouard ‘Lockroy' Simon – contributor to Le Rappel – Hugo opposed him sharing guardianship" (Sandrine Fillipetti, Victor Hugo)
This inaugural volume of Actes et paroles [Deeds and Words] containing Victor Hugo's first major political texts, is a poignant testimony to his humanist commitments. The "little" owners of this precious copy received their grandfather's intellectual and militant legacy: from his "Discours de réception" at the Académie française (1841) to his famous stance against Napoleon III "Révision de la Constitution" ("No! after Napoleon the Great, I don't want Napoleon 'le Petit'!") which led to his exile. At the heart of this compilation is a highly significant text "For Charles Hugo. The death penalty" delivered by Hugo before the Seine Assize Court in 1851 in defense of his son, father of Jeanne and Georges, convicted for an article against death penalty: "What my son has written, he has written, I repeat, because I inspired it in him from childhood, because at the same time as he is my son by blood, he is my son in spirit, because he wants to continue his father's legacy"
This beautiful gift to two children aged six and seven was undoubtedly offered with the intent to uphold the family tradition of commitment to freedom.

Autograph letter signed to Madame Catusse, 12,6x20,4cm, 3 pages on a double leaf.

Autograph letter signed by Marcel Proust, probably addressed to Madame Catusse. The recipient and date have been determined by Proust scholar Jean-Yves Tadié. Three pages in black ink on a double leaf edged in black. A fold inherent to the mailing.
A sombre and admirable letter steeped in Proustian melancholy. The future author of In Search of Lost Time feels more than ever the loss of his mother during the New Year period. The famously generous Proust also asks his faithful confidante Madame Catusse to buy a gift for the Straus couple, whose wife inspired the character of the Comtesse de Guermantes.

 
The end of 1907, apparent date of this letter alluding to the approaching New Year, marks the second holiday season spent without Madame Proust, who had died two years earlier: "New Year's Day is only an occasion for me - as if occasions were needed! -- to reminisce and weep". Proust had also expressed this sentiment in a letter to Anna de Noailles the year before ("New Year's Day had a terrible evocative power over me. It suddenly gave me back the memories of Maman that I had lost, the memory of her voice", February 1906). This fateful moment acted on Proust like a pernicious madeleine, at once a sensory reminiscence and an acute awareness of his loss. He would soon begin writing In Search of Lost Time to conjure up this mother figure whose absence would remain unbearable.

For the time being, Proust is busy writing a series of Pastiches for Le Figaro, "which were, in reality, only a penultimate detour before writing La Recherche" (George D. Painter). One of these Pastiches dealt with the swindle perpetrated on the president of De Beers in which Proust had invested. Imagining himself already ruined, he mentions these unfortunate circumstances in capital letters: "HAVE I REPORTED MY FINANCIAL DESASTERS TO YOU OVER THE TELEPHONE? ..." Overwhelmed by ailments, he is also plagued by one of his many asthma attacks "provoked or exasperated by these terrible fogs", forcing him into reclusion and even silence: "telephoning is very dangerous for me. And I'm also very tired when it comes to writing".

 
The recipient Mme Catusse was a friend of Proust's mother and became an invaluable support to the writer. Proust's prolific correspondence with the woman Ghislain de Diesbach had dubbed the writer's Notre-Dame-des-Corvées represents an inexhaustible resource of insights into his secret life and fears. Proust had called her in a panic during an aphasia attack suffered by his mother shortly before her death. As he became increasingly isolated after moving into 102 boulevard Haussmann the previous year, Proust sought her help in many matters, including the purchase of numerous gifts: "I would have liked to ask you if you had by any chance seen anything suitable for the Straus, although I always dislike coinciding with New Year's Day".

This sentiment would inspire a passage in The Captive castigating those same "New Year's Day presents" given to Madame Verdurin: "those singular and superfluous objects which still appear to have been just taken from the box in which they were offered and remain for ever what they were at first" (The Captive, C.K. Scott Moncrieff's Translation Edited and Annotated by William C. Carter, Yale University Press, 2023, p. 308). Known for his frenzied displays of prodigality, Proust overcomes his aversion to these occasional gifts. The smallest favor to the writer gave rise to extravagant expenses. Lawyer Emile Straus had probably helped the writer sort out his inheritance affairs: "I FEEL THAT THE NUMEROUS SERVICES PROVIDED TO ME BY MR. STRAUS CANNOT REMAIN WITHOUT THANKS, since I believe he would not accept a fee. If you happened to have seen something very pretty, in any genre, or any period, between 100 and 300 fr. I would gladly take it."

A precious demonstration of the "ever so strange and aggressive" Proustian generosity, making this letter a perfect demonstration of the link between friendship and money which would become a recurring theme throughout In Search of Lost Time.