Saint-Germain de près et de loin

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.

"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Œuvres complètes devoted to his songs, but certain verses crossed out in our manuscript remain quite readable and unpublished: "Quand on n'sait pas danser / Il vaut mieux s'en passer" ["When one doesn't know how to dance / It's better to do without"].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.

"My dear director, under the terms of our agreements, I am ready to read, I have chosen tomorrow, Wednesday, and I have told your stage manager the names of the actors to whom I entrust our play. I've done a bit of your job, I've conquered Madame Dorval who will make you rich, I'll bring her myself. Find here, my dear d'Épagny, a thousand regards, I have given you proof of our old acquaintance by choosing you for Les Ressources de Quinola, I shall expect a return in our relations and I am entitled to a great deal of zeal."

Une bonn'paire de claques dans la gueule
Un bon coup d'savate dans les fesses
Un marron sur les mandibules
Ca te f'ra une deuxième jeunesse

First edition, a first impression copy numbered in the press.

Binding in half brown morocco, spine in five compartments, gilt date at the foot, geometric pattern paper boards and endpapers in the same paper, top edge gilt, wrappers and spine preserved in perfect condition, binding signed by T. Boichot.

Apollinaire's second major poetic work with bold graphic innovations and a portrait of Guillaume Apollinaire by Pablo Picasso as frontispiece.
“Some of the best war poems, all languages combined, are brought together in this collection, alongside experimental works such as Les Fenêtres (close to Cubism) and La Jolie Rousse, which were far ahead of their time” (Cyril Connolly, Cent livres-clés de la littérature moderne, n° 32).

A beautiful copy on non-brittle paper which is unusual, and a rare and surprising handwritten inscription signed by Guillaume Apollinaire: “à monsieur le critique littéraire de La Libre Parole, hommage de Guill. Apollinaire." (“To the literary critic of La Libre Parole, tribute by Guill. Apollinaire.”)

Who could be the recipient of this inscription, unnamed but addressed to a collaborator of the famous anti-Semitic newspaper founded by Édouard Drumont? The ostensibly philo-Semitic position of Guillaume Apollinaire is well-known. In an 1899 letter, he boasts to Toussaint Luca that he tried to provoke Henri Rochefort, who was reading La Libre Parole, by deploying L'Aurore in front of him but, as the young Dreyfusard regrets, without daring to engage the controversy. In 1902, he publicly marked his fraternity with the Jewish people with a new publication in La Revue blanche, “Le Passant de Prague": “I love Jews because all Jews suffer everywhere”. Then in Alcools, he will dedicate a poem to the Hebrew religion: "La Synagogue". But it is undoubtedly through his poem “Le Juif latin”, published in L'Hérésiarque et C^ie that Apollinaire poetically reveals the essence of his particular link with Judaism: that he shares the condition of eternal stranger, the feeling of uprooting and the search for identity.
It may, therefore, seem very surprising that this poet, whose only trace of political commitment was in favor of Dreyfus, dedicated his work to a La Libre Parole journalist, even if he is a literary critic.
And in fact, La Libre Parole does not contain literary columns!

A few months before the poet's death, this laconic inscription thus proves to be a formidable and final scoff of poetic impertinence
to political intolerance...

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 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 32 numbered copies on Japon nacre paper, the tirage de tête.
A fine copy.