Autograph signed letter-card from Pierre Louÿs addressed to his brother Georges Louis with whom Pierre Louÿs maintained a very intimate relationship and whom he considered as his own father.
The question of Pierre Louÿs's real paternal identity still fascinates biographers today: "His father, Pierre Philippe Louis, [...] had married in 1842 Jeanne Constance Blanchin, who died ten years later after having given him two children, Lucie and Georges. In 1855, he remarried Claire Céline Maldan, and from this union was born, in 1857, a son, Paul; then, in 1870, our writer, who received the first names Pierre Félix. This late birth, the differences in character between father and son, the former's disaffection toward the latter, the profound intimacy that always reigned between Louÿs and his brother Georges, all this has led certain biographers and critics to suspect that the latter was in reality the writer's father. The exceptionally intimate and constant relationship that Pierre and Georges maintained between them throughout their lives, could be an argument in this sense. Of course, no irrefutable proof has been discovered, and none probably ever will be. Nevertheless, certain letters [...] are quite troubling. In 1895, for example, Louÿs writes seriously to his brother that he knows the answer to 'the most poignant question' he could ask him, a question he has had 'on his lips for ten years.' The following year, in the full triumph of Aphrodite, he thanks Georges effusively and ends his letter with this sentence: 'Not one of my friends has a FATHER who is for him what you are for me.' Arguing from the close intimacy of Georges and Claire Céline during the year 1870, and from the jealousy that the father never ceased to show toward his younger son, Claude Farrère did not hesitate to conclude in favor of Georges Louis. And what to think of this dedication from Louÿs to his brother on a Japan paper copy of the first edition of Pausole: For Georges, his eldest son / Pierre." (Jean-Paul Goujon, Pierre Louÿs)
Brief note to his brother upon arrival in Epernay: "Rien de nouveau. Personne à la gare. J'ai fait très bon voyage. Mon bouquin était mourant d'ennui, et mes trois voisins aussi. Je t'embrasse. Pierre" ["Nothing new. Nobody at the station. I had a very good journey. My book was dying of boredom, and so were my three neighbors. I embrace you. Pierre"]