We were unable to locate any other copy of this photograph in public collections.
31 août 1811
22 octobre 1872
First edition, with no deluxe paper copies issued.
Half aubergine shagreen binding, spine with four raised bands decorated with triple gilt compartments, marbled paper boards, marbled endpapers and pastedowns, speckled edges. Contemporary binding.
This collection of poems is followed by essays on Henry Murger by Théophile Gautier, Jules Janin, Arsène Houssaye, and Paul de Saint-Victor.
Our copy is enriched with an autograph note signed by Henry Murger, informing his correspondent that he will visit him soon.
First edition. Bibliothèque des chemins de fer series. Quite scarce. The novel was previously serialized in the Moniteur universel from March to May 1857. 12-page Hachette catalogue bound in at the end.
Full early 20th-century tan morocco binding, signed at the foot of the inside front cover by A. J. Gonon, housed in a beige slipcase trimmed with morocco. Spine with raised bands, compartments decorated. Wide gilt fillet border on pastedowns. Untrimmed copy. Occasional foxing. Spine slightly sunned. Original wrappers preserved, spine portion missing. A good copy.
Three autograph letters signed by Gérard de Nerval (2 pages signed « Gérard »), Théophile Gautier (1 page), and a third, unsigned letter (1 page) penned by a certain « Robert » (cf. Nerval's letter)
Louis Desessart, Théophile Gautier's appointed publisher, co-published Nerval’s play Léo Burckart with Barba in 1839. Following financial difficulties, he was forced to take refuge « in that sad and charming city of Brussels ».
The three friends wrote this letter from Paris, where they had reunited following Nerval’s long journey to the East: « I spent six months in Egypt; then three months in Syria – four months in Constantinople, and the rest en route. It’s quite beautiful. I only enjoy myself while traveling and try to live twice as much as I can. »
This journey deeply impressed Théophile Gautier, who would only travel to Turkey and Egypt years later: « I am in Paris and wish I were in Cairo, from where Gérard is returning. » The exoticism of distant lands starkly contrasts with the melancholy and severity of Europe: « How sad Paris is when one returns from sunlit countries. » (Nerval) And in Paris, far from dreams of escape, life means toil and melancholy:
« We are like sick people who are never comfortable anywhere. I think the good times are gone, and the golden hours of the past when we spoke such wise follies will never return. What’s the point of living if we must work and cannot see our friends or write to them or do anything we would like? » (Gautier)
The two writers express great compassion for their friend’s Belgian exile, with Brussels appearing as the capital of spleen: « What ! You’re still in that sad and charming city of Brussels ! [...] Brussels is even darker, poor fellow ! » (Nerval)
This joint letter was in fact initiated by « Robert » :
« Isn’t it true, my dear friend, that I’m quite skilled at making you forget my faults? [...] as a way of making it up to you, I’m sending you the autographs of two of your [...] comrades, your fondest memories, two men of fame who, despite all their affection and friendship for you, would never have written a word had I not trimmed their quills and handed them paper like sulky children, and told them : write at once, at once to the exile you love most. »
First edition, one of 50 copies printed anonymously on papier japon.
First edition, one of 50 copies printed anonymously on papier japon.
Illustrated with an erotic frontispiece by Félicien Rops on chine.
Custom chemise and slipcase in half morocco and paper boards signed Boichot, some discreet restorations to the spine and covers, some discreet restorations to the top margin of the frontispiece, not affecting the engraving.
“La Présidente”, honorary nickname given to Apollonie Sabatier (alias Aglaëe Savatier, her real name), was one of the most captivating Salon hostesses of the 19th century. She inspired an ethereal love in Baudelaire who composed his most mystical poems in Les Fleurs du Mal in her honor. The other artists who frequented the apartment on Rue Frochot, during her famous Sunday dinners, had more licentious feelings for this woman of surprising wit and beauty. The sculptor Clésinger portrayed her in his lascivious “woman stung by a snake”; Flaubert wrote sensual letters to her ending with “the very sincere affection of one who, alas, only kisses your hand”; she has long since been recognized as the model for Gustave Courbet's scandalous The Origin of the World.
Gautier sent her this letter in 1850. Sabatier made copies which she never published but privately distributed to her guests:
“In October 1850, Gautier sent her [this] very long letter, farcical and obscene, from Rome, commenting with Rabelaisian exaggeration what himself and his friend Cormenin had learned regarding sexuality during their travels. Gautier knew that his freedom of expression would not offend Madame Sabatier. He had long since accustomed her to it and he prided himself on his “smut” to brighten up the friendly social gatherings of the Rue Frochot.” (Dictionnaire des œuvres érotiques)
Honored indeed by this priapic attention, ‘La Présidente' gave copies to all her guests and the reading of Gautier's “indecent prose” became a popular event at Parisian soirées. However, the letter was ultimately published – luxuriously but confidentially – after the recipient's death in 1890.
After this first edition of 50 copies on papier japon, a second edition on papier vélin followed a few months later with a larger print run and without the Rops frontispiece.
A rare, beautiful and very sought after copy.
First edition, of which only 500 copies were issued. With an etched frontispiece portrait of Théophile Gautier by Emile Thérond.
With a substantial prefatory letter by Victor Hugo.
Red morocco binding, gilt date at the foot of spine, marbled endpapers, Baudelairian ex-libris from Renée Cortot's collection glued on the first endpaper, wrappers preserved, top edge gilt.
Pale foxing affecting the first and last leaves, beautiful copy perfectly set.
Rare handwritten inscription signed by Charles Baudelaire: “ à mon ami Paul Meurice. Ch. Baudelaire. ” (“To my friend Paul Meurice. Ch. Baudelaire.”)
An autograph ex-dono slip by Victor Hugo, addressed to Paul Meurice, has been added to this copy by ourselves and mounted on a guard. This slip, which was doubtless never used, had nevertheless been prepared, along with several others, by Victor Hugo in order to present his friend with a copy of his works published in Paris during his exile. If History did not allow Hugo to send this volume to Meurice, this presentation note, hitherto unused, could not, in our view, be more fittingly associated.
Provenance: Paul Meurice, then Alfred and Renée Cortot.
First edition, one of three or four copies printed on vellum skin, the most limited issue. A few copies printed on japon, 12 on Whatman, 12 on chine, and 350 copies on laid paper. Edited by Philippe Burty, the book features 42 sonnets and as many original etchings.
Contemporary full dark purple morocco binding, slightly recolored spine with five raised bands, gilt title, purple watered-silk pastedowns and endleaves followed by vellum endleaves, inner gilt dentelle, sides and spine-ends framed in gilt, all edges gilt, marbled paper slipcase bordered in purple morocco, binding signed by Auguste Petit.
Only two other vellum copies recorded: Melot and Delteil mention “two or three copies,” while Carteret lists four. One from the library of Philippe Burty (still in loose leaves at the time of his sale, later bound between 1891 and 1897 by Marius Michel, now in the MAK Museum, Vienna). The second was once in the collection of Raphaël Esmerian (bound by Marius Michel around 1895-1900, now in the Wormsley Library). Our copy was bound at the time by Auguste Petit.
An exceptional copy of this luxurious book-album entirely printed on vellum skin — ”the first livre d'artiste in the spirit of what would become a tradition in France, from Ambroise Vollard to André Maeght and Henri Kahnweiler” (Roselyne Pirson). Solely consisting of original etchings by the greatest masters of the time such as Manet, Corot and Millet, accompanying the poetic revival of the sonnet led by Parnassians poets, notably Paul Verlaine, José Maria de Heredia, and Théodore de Banville.
This work remains the most ambitious project by Philippe Burty - passionate collector, executor of Eugène Delacroix's will, leading critic of Gazette des Beaux-Arts, and a regular commentator on engravings at the Paris Salon. Burty championed the etching as an art form at a time when it had fallen into disfavour.
The book opens with a charming title engraved by Manet's engraver Alfred Prunaire, after a composition by Édouard Renard. Numerous headbands, letters and culs-de-lampe also by Prunaire. Throughout the forty-two diptychs, poets and painters engage in a remarkable dialogue — sometimes poems inspire images or vice versa. Solicited by Burty himself, every artist etched directly onto the copper plate. 41 are original engravings, the only exception to the rule being Coutry's etching after an original ink by Victor Hugo. The collection also contains the very first published etching by Gustave Doré, a magnificent lion illustrating a poem by Cladel. Among the book's greatest masterpieces are Edouard Manet's famous Manola inspired by Goya's Caprichos, and a Normandy landscape by Camille Corot. The “nature painters” are well represented, with Jongkind and Jean-François Millet, the latter illustrating a poem dedicated to him. Other notable artists include Edmond Morin, Giacomotti, Célestin Nanteuil, Léopold Flameng, Bacquemond, and Daubigny.
Many of the poets chosen for the collection belong to Parnassian circles: Paul Verlaine, José Maria de Hérédia, Théodore de Banville, Anatole France, Leconte de Lisle, Sully Prudhomme, Catulle Mendès and Albert Mérat. Other poems are written by influential 19th century poets including Théophile Gautier, Jean Aicard, Joseph Autran, Antoni and Émile Deschamps, Arsène Houssaye, Victor de Laprade, Laurent-Pichat, Sainte-Beuve, Joséphin Soulary and Armand Sylvestre.
Burty solicited the finest artists and poets for this collection, yet the project soon exceeded his ambitions—and led to some controversial editorial choices that excluded famous poet Stéphane Mallarmé. Although not published in the book, his celebrated Sonnet in -yx was originally written for this project. This Mallarméan Symbolist masterpiece will later be regarded as a veritable “etching in prose” (Emmanuel Martin). Cazalis was furious at Burty's refusal to publish it: “the impresario of this silly affair now had more sonnets than aquafortists, and would no longer accept any, even a sonnet by God himself. I replied that he was a fool” (letter to Mallarmé), demonstrating the importance of being included in this poetic anthology.
The book's creation had numerous twists and turns, notably with Victor Hugo who declined the offer to write a preface. He contributed as a draughtsman rather than a poet although “This drawing, too, is poetry,” wrote Paul Mantz in Gazette des Beaux-Arts, referring to the magnificent ink by Hugo illustrating the poem written by his friend Paul Meurice. The book's title indeed breaks from Hugolian poetic legacy. Sonnets et Eaux-Fortes may seem a very prosaic title today; however, it was a resolutely modern statement for Burty and the artists contributors. The use of two art forms neglected since the Renaissance reflects a radical break from Romantic tradition: “Victor Hugo did not write sonnets. He is not one of those willing captives who enjoy confining themselves to a narrow cell” wrote Mantz. On the other hand, “Baudelaire's shadow looms over this rare book (he had died the year before), absent among the poets, yet present in spirit, he had greatly contributed to the revival of the sonnet and the celebration of etching in the 1860s” (Joël Dalançon). While his death prevented him from taking part in the book, he is nonetheless replaced by his poetic successor: a 24-year-old Paul Verlaine with just one published collection to his name.
Far more than a mere description of its contents, Sonnets et Eaux-Fortes is a manifesto title—a pioneering encounter between artists of modernity: “These two forms, the new poetry and the new etching, could not long remain strangers to one another” wrote Paul Mantz. The invention of the livre d'artiste where Art and Poetry are not merely illustrative or secondary to one another but exist in a fruitful, reciprocal exchange — much like Théophile Gautier's poem inspired by an etching by Leys: “Hence was born the collection we are announcing and which is likely to make some noise in Paris by the novelty of the spectacle it presents to the eye and the interest it awakens in our mind” (Paul Mantz, Gazette des Beaux-Arts, January 1869).
This rare copy on vellum is emblematic of the Parisian bibliophilic reaction against industrial mass production in the late 19th century. The large-scale reproduction of photography in books paradoxically triggered a wave of luxurious publications true to traditional manufacturing.
The few vellum copies were no doubt reserved for publisher Lemerre and editor Burty and intended to elevate the book to artwork status. They are a direct legacy of the medieval Book of Hours, which already united illumination and calligraphy. Most precious copies were made on these inalterable vellum skins – ensuring by their very nature the immortality of the words and images they kept within their pages. This quality of conservation is of vital importance here, since the original copperplates were destroyed after publication and many of the book's copies on laid paper were dismantled by collectors for individual prints.
Even the “regular” edition of 350 copies was intended for the happy few; this nearly unique issue on vellum — so exclusive it is not even mentioned in the imprint — embodies the height of fin-de-siècle bibliophilic refinement. One cannot help but recall Des Esseintes's obsession with copies of Barbey d'Aurevilly and Mallarmé poems printed on this exquisite and decadent material. Through his extravagant editorial pursuits, Burty himself was compared to the Goncourt brothers and the infamous aesthete of Huysman's À Rebours.
Rarest and most precious copy of this illustrated anthology, an extraordinary display of visual and poetic talent regarded as a landmark in the history of the book and of modern art. This is the only known copy on vellum housed in a contemporary binding.