Hussards (Literary movement)

First edition, one of 12 copies numbered on Montval laid paper, the deluxe issue.

Light foxing to the upper cover and endpapers, with a small nick to the lower right corner of the rear cover.

Fierce autograph letter signed, addressed to Jacques Chardonne—though not named—comprising 30 lines in black ink on letterhead of the journal Le Nouveau Fémina, concerning cultural life and current political affairs.

Folding marks inherent to mailing, a black ink stain not affecting the text, and two small holes: the first causing the loss of one letter—the second "e" in Hecquet; the second resulting in the loss of the word "il".

"Les dernières lettres sont épatantes. Et courtes, comme il fallait pour ne pas trop s'éloigner du drame. Les oeuvres complètes de Léon Blum vont paraître chez Albin Michel. On va voir. Anatole de Monzie, homme d'une très belle intelligence n'a rien écrit de fameux. Aujourd'hui, le moins ignare s'appelle Ramadier (Paul Ramadier, several times a minister after the Liberation) Il n'a pas été réélu. C'est un franc-maçon acharné. Mendès-France est un marchand de cravates me dit Stephen Hecqu[e]t. [Il] faut supprimer son nom de ma dernière lettre (celle qui est si longue, où je parle des hommes politiques susceptibles d'écrire). A bientôt. Roger Nimier."

First edition on ordinary paper.

Small loss and a stain to the lower left margin of the lower cover, folding marks to the right margin of the upper cover.

Preface by Jacques Laurent.

Inscribed and signed by Antoine Blondin: "Pour Philippe Patrice Cazenave leur ami Antoine Blondin".

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.

Remarkable autograph letter signed by Antoine Blondin, addressed to Roger Nimier at his Paris office at the N.R.F., in which he recounts—perhaps not entirely sober—his misadventures in “marital” cohabitation with a seminarian named Prébende Alexis.
29 lines on a folded sheet.
Envelope included.
Published in À mes prochains: lettres, 1943-1984, ed. Alain Cresciucci, 2009, p. 110.
In a highly humorous and irreverent tone, Antoine Blondin writes to his “dear friend” a list of edifying events from his Mayenne existence, enumerated, as “I believe the time has come to enlighten you about certain things that have happened to me.”
He goes on to describe the spartan accommodations he shares—certainly amidst alcoholic fumes, but also as a means to escape the stifling and pompous social life in Laval that his literary notoriety brings upon him: “We live not far from the viaduct, in a wooden shack... seven metres long and three metres twenty-five wide. It must date from the first American occupation, that of Pershing and Dos Passos.” and the doubts he harbours about his cabin-mate: “I suspect Alexis—I call him Alex—of not being entirely defrocked, for he disappears during mass hours, leaving me—naturally—with all the dishes and the little chores. Should I speak to him about it?”
Nevertheless, he is keen to reassure his friend that he maintains a semblance of social life, though he confides, feigning naïveté, that he is no longer entirely in good standing in Laval: “I have not broken off my ties with the Grand Hôtel, but I only go there to collect my mail, which is handed to me sparingly, for I have become a subject of opprobrium in the city—I wonder why.” and that he still honours official invitations: “The prefect of Mayenne hosted me yesterday with some crayfish and partridges, served with lingonberry preserves (!!). He is an epicurean, like you and me—single and well-read. I allow myself to quote him.”
This pleasant hospitality opens new perspectives, which he shares with Roger Nimier, his companion in memorable drinking and feasting: “There are 93 or 97 departments—in any case, fewer than a hundred. We should live off the prefectures. They are good places. There is a familial atmosphere, the like of which we had already had a taste of, if I may say, in Lille. A prefecture flea, while not a particularly distinguished position, is a waiting game.”
In closing, Antoine Blondin allows himself this half-question, laced with certainty: “Does Alexis trouble me?”
A fine display of the anarchic and whimsical spirit that guided the steps—rarely steady but always spirited—of Antoine Blondin, and of the boisterous and fraternal friendship he shared with Roger Nimier.
On the subject of Blondin’s deep friendship for Roger Nimier and the myth of the Hussards, the author told Emmanuel Legeard: « Ce sont les "hussards" qui sont une invention. Une invention "sartrienne". En réalité, l'histoire, c'est mon ami Frémanger, qui s'était lancé dans l'édition, qui avait un seul auteur, c'était Jacques Laurent, et un seul employé, c'était moi. Laurent écrivait, et moi je ficelais les paquets de livres. Donc on se connaissait, on était amis, et d'autre part... d'autre part, Roger Nimier était mon meilleur ami. Nimier, je le voyais tous les jours. Je l'ai vu tous les jours pendant treize ans. Mais Laurent et Nimier ne se fréquentaient pas du tout. Ils avaient des conceptions très différentes. On n'a été réunis qu'une seule fois. On s'est retrouvés rue Marbeuf, au Quirinal, pour déjeuner. On a discuté de vins italiens et de la cuisson des nouilles. Pendant deux heures."

Autograph letter dated and signed by Michel Mohrt, four pages, addressed to Thierry Maulnier. 69 lines written in blue ink, notably discussing his candidacy for the Académie française to succeed Marcel Brion's vacant seat.
Folds from original mailing. A paperclip holds the two sheets of the letter together.