Medusa in the Kidneys, 1608

January 30, 2012, 2:30 am

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by Stephen J. Gertz

I write between bouts of agony.

How does it feel?
How does it feel?
To have pain all your own
Life as one plaintive groan
All equipoise blown
An unyielding moan
In the torture zone
Like a kidney stone.

Benjamin Franklin, Isaac Newton, and Peter the Great had them. Francis Bacon, Louis Napoleon III, Lyndon Johnson. and Samuel Pepys endured them. Oliver Cromwell, Michel de Montaigne, Napoleon Bonaparte, Louis XIV, and George IV experienced them. And so have Joe Schmo from Kokomo and Jane Doe from Boise, Idaho. In a town without pity kidney stones are the pits.

It's like waking up to see Medusa staring at you and, soon, your body begins to turn to stone, first stop, petrified kidneys, nephrolithiasis. It's the Granite State with apologies to New Hampshire.

So, when last week I experienced a boulder on the way to the bladder and stuck, I consulted my geologist, Dr. Gravelstein. He gave me a bottle of Vicodin, Flomax to keep the pipes open and urine flowin', and a rare book with orders to take the Vike as necessary for pain, drink plenty of fluids, and read the tome, TID.

Johann Georg Schenck's Lithogenesia sive de microcosmi membris petrefactis (1608), is the first book on petrifaction in and of parts of the human body, including gallstones, kidney stones, and  (drumroll, cymbal-crash) petrified immature fetuses in the uterus.

(As bizarre - and horrific for the bearer - as that sounds, I recently viewed a rerun of Law & Order Criminal Intent in which a woman carried the secret of her petrified fetus inside her womb for decades, leading her long-term boyfriend on with a story that her child was alive but seriously ill and institutionalized. He murders for money to support her non-existent daughter's care. Detective Goren builds a rock-solid case).

One of the engraved plates in its first and only edition depicts a thirty-seven year old woman from Sens who carried  a petrified fetus for years. In my imagination and pain I felt as if a petrified fetus was gestating in a ureter and very angry.

Calculi, or stones.

Johann-Georg Schenck of Grafenberg (d. 1620) was born at Freiburg in Breisgrau, in the second half of the sixteenth century. The son of noted physician Johannes Schenck von Grafenberg (1530-1598), he was Stadt-physikus at Hagenau in Alsace, successfully practiced medicine, yet found time to write and edit books on medicine and botany. He was the author of the first bibliography of gynecology, Pinax autorum qui gynaecia seu muliebra ex instituto scriptis exoluerunt et illustrarunt (1606).

Celsus edition of 1657.

Kidney calculi have been around since at least, of course, the Stone Age. Aulus Cornelius Celsus (c. 25 BC - c. 50 BC) wrote about them in De Medicina (editio princeps 1478), the first printed medical book.

The author, attended by Dr. Gravelstein and two sisters of mercy. The pharmacist, at right, enters to the rescue with narcotics.

Renal colic, the umbrella term for the presentation of a stone - waves of excruciating spasms to the back, flank and abdomen as the ureter attempts to dislodge it, severe vagal syndrome vomiting, dizziness, sweating, excessive salivation - seems too innocent, as if all that's necessary is to be thrown over your mother's shoulder and patted on the back for comfort. Coliques nephretiques - the same thing - sounds much more exotic and, dosed with absinthe and opium, a perfectly civilized way to go insane with pain.

Though highly unorthodox, getting your kidneys thoroughly massaged, washed and rinsed is quite refreshing and therapeutic, particularly when performed by Dr. Gravelstein's comely RN, Shirley Kim. There is, however, a consequence to being kidney-washed. I'm now the Manchurian Candidate of nephrology, murderous around kidney pie, kidney beans, kidney-shaped swimming pools, anything kidney; surely an assassin. Me, not Shirley, my North Korean kidney-handler.

A Gal. A Glove. A Kidney Stone. Danny Fisher Was Down for the Count.

We close today with a snapshot at one of the great, apocryphal novels dealing with coliques nephretiques. Who can forget the best-selling schlockmeister's third book?

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SCHENCK, Johann Georg. Lithogenesia sive de microcosmi membris petrefactis: et de calculis eidem microcosmo per varias matricis innatis: pathologia historica, per theorian & autopsian demonstrata... Francofurti: Ex officina typographica Matthiae Beckeri, sumptibus viduae Theodori de Bry, & duorum ejus filiorum (printed by Matthias Becker for the widow of Theodor de Bry and his two sons), 1608. First (only) edition. Small quarto (192 x 155 mm). [14], 69, [7] pp. With engraved printer's device on title-page, fifteen small woodcut illustrations, and six full-page engravings.

Bibliotheca Osleriana 3933. Ferguson II, p. 332. Krivatsy 10403. Welcome I, 5830.

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Images of Schenck's Lithogenesia... courtesy of Antiquariat Forum, with our thanks.

Urodonal ad #1 (1920) courtesy of Amazon.

Urodonal ad #2 (1915) courtesy of CQOut, with our thanks.
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Art of the Map at Bloomsbury

January 31, 2012, 2:30 am

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by Stephen J. Gertz

FRIES, Laurent. Tabu. Nova Orbis. Lyons, 1535.

Bloomsbury-London is offering 100 lots of historic maps during its Books and Maps sale, today, Tuesday, January 31, 2012. Amongst the many cartographic beauties, primarily regional and national,  are six world maps of artistic and historical interest.

Laurent Fries' Tabu. Nova Orbis (1535) is a woodcut Ptolemaic (geocentric) world map, later hand-colored, depicting Greenland as a long peninsula stretching from Scandinavia into the Atlantic Ocean. It features an elephant or mammoth at upper left, and five enthroned kings sitting in N. Europe, China, India, with two in Africa. The title banderole is unfurled at the top.

HONDIUS, Henricus. Nova Todas Terrarum Orbis Geographica ac Hydrographica Tabula. Amsterdam: Jan Jansson, 1641.

Henricus Hondius' Nova Todas Terrarum Orbis Geographica ac Hydrographica Tabula (1641) is an engraved, later hand-colored double-hemiphere world map showing California as an island and part of the north coast of Australia - put the shrimp on the barbie in Santa Monica, Mate. It features a small celestial globe at top, and four portrait medallions of Julius Caesar, Ptolemy, Mercator, and Hondius at each corner with allegorical figures of the four elements in between.

ORTELIUS, Abraham. Aevi Veteris, Typus Geographicus. Amsterdam, 1592.

Aevi Veteris, Typus Geographicus (1592), by the great Abraham Ortelius, is an  engraved and hand-colored classical world map within an elaborate strapwork border containing the title above and the four known continents in corner medallions.

ROGERS, William. Double-Hemisphere World Map. John Wolfe, 1598.

William Rogers' engraved and hand-colored Double-Hemisphere World Map (1598) possesses a strapwork surround and the name Iehovah at center-top. It was issued as one of the title pages to the 1598 English translation of Jan  Huyghen van Linschoten's Itinerario (John Huighen van Linschoten, His discours of voyages into ye Easte and West Indies: devided into foure bookes).

SCHEDEL, Hartman. Secunda Etas Mundi. Nuremberg: Anton Koberger, 1493.

Secunda Etas Mundi (The Second Age of the World, 1493) by Hartmann Schedel (one of the first cartographers to use the printing press) is a Ptolemaic world map taken from the first Latin edition of Schedel's Nuremberg Chronicle, which featured the first maps of many cities and countries. In later hand-colored woodcut, the map is surrounded by twelve headwinds, and supported at upper left and right and lower right corner by Ham, Seth, and Japhet of the Old Testament. At left are seven panels depicting strange and fantastical human beasts.

VISSCHER, Nicolaes J. Orbis Terrarum Typus de Integro in Plurimus Emendatus, Auctus, et Icunculus Illustratus. Amsterdam, 1657.

Orbis Terrarum Typus de Integro in Plurimus Emendatus, Auctus, et Icunculus Illustratus (1657) by Nicolaes J. Visscher, the Dutch cartographer most famous for his maps of New Netherland (New York), New England and the Atlantic Seaboard, is a hand-colored engraving, a double-hemisphere with California as a peninsula, and showing parts of the coast of Australia and Van Dieman's Land (i.e. Tasmania). Diagrams of the solar system appear at upper and lower center, and scenes with allegorical figures representing the four known continents illustrate each corner. Celestial spheres are featured in the right hemisphere at bottom, and descriptive text about recent discoveries is found in the left hemisphere.

These are gorgeous maps, with estimates ranging from $400 - $550 (Rogers) to $4700 - $6300 (Hondius).

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Images courtesy of Bloomsbury Auctions, with our thanks.
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Eyewitness Account of Hitler Assassination Attempt Surfaces at Auction

February 1, 2012, 2:30 am

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by Stephen J. Gertz

An important eyewitness account of the July 20, 1944 Hitler assassination attempt signed by General Adolf Heusinger, who stood next to Hitler in the Wolf's Lair  when the Operation Valkyrie bomb exploded, came to auction on Tuesday, January 31, 2012.

Offered by Nate D. Sanders Auctions and dated November 1945, the six-page typed document  contains Heusinger's account of the assassination attempt on Hitler, including his hand-rendered diagram of the room and the seating arrangement of Hitler and his staff, as well as the list of who was in the room.

The lengthy typed document, in German, is entitled "The Progression of Events of 20 July 1944" and translates in part:

"The daily review of current happenings took place…at 12:30 in the afternoon in the headquarters of the Fuehrer in Rastenburg. All people indicated on the attached sketch/diagram took part. I, myself represented the then-ill chief of the army, Colonel-General Zeitzler…Hitler entered the room coming from his bunker…First I addressed the situation on the Eastern Front…maps were spread on the tables…Field Marshal Keitel entered the room with Colonel Graf Stauffenberg…Hitler briefly turned around when Stauffenberg made his presence known…The meeting continued…

"Hitler, however, interrupted, saying he only wanted to hear Stauffenberg at the end of the discussion of the Eastern Front…I went on with my speech. Stauffenberg…walked over to Colonel Brandt: 'I have to go make a phone call and I'm leaving my briefcase here until then.'  With these words he left the room, went straight to his car and drove to the exit of the headquarters. There he was said to have waited until the explosion occurred to fly back to Berlin.

Brandt, who was uncomfortable with the briefcase between his feet, pushed it with his foot a little farther underneath the table…About ten minutes later I was reporting on the situation near Duenaburg when Hitler leaned over the table next to me…Right at that moment, at around 12:50 the explosion occurred under the table…I found myself after a few seconds lying on my back, to my right, Colonel Brandt, to my left, Hitler, both lying on their backs as well.

"I heard a loud scream, probably from Keitel: 'The Fuehrer!' And I saw how the big map that was in flames was about to fall on top of me, probably because of the draft coming through the window. I pushed it away with my right arm and crawled backwards toward the door out of the room while the uninjured tended to those who were badly injured. When I reached the outside I sat myself on a patch of grass together with Colonel-General Korten and General-Major Scherff. I realized that I could barely hear, was bleeding on the head and the legs, burned my right underarm and that my uniform was completely torn apart. 

"After a few moments Hitler came out of the building supported by Keitel and his servant Lingen, who must have been near the room, and probably Fegelein, the leader of the Waffen SS, and walked to his bunker fifty paces away. His right pant leg was completely torn as well. All other wounded were immediately sent to the sick bay. I myself was arrested on the eve of 23 July 1944 in the sick bay by the Gestapo due to [involvement] in the assassination attempt and taken to the Gestapo prison in Berlin where I was detained for ten weeks.

"I ATTRIBUTE THE FAILURE OF THE ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT TO THE FOLLOWING: 

1. The floor of the room was made out of wood and not concrete. Some of the bomb's effect must have been absorbed by the floor. 

2. The windows flew out right away, which allowed some of the pressure to disperse. 

3. The thick oak table blocked the upward force of the bomb. 

4. Between Colonel Brandt and myself supposedly was a big column from the table. It probably absorbed some of the force of the bomb in Hitler's direction. The Composition of the Bomb is unknown to me. The detonator must have been an English chemical time fuse as it has been frequently dropped behind our front for reasons of sabotage and was picked up by our defense department. [signed] Heusinger".

A notation in pencil on the first page reads, "for Captain GRUENDL". Accompanied by full translation.

The bidding closed at 5:30PM Pacific. As of 8:52PM Pacific the last bid was $2,853. A bargain, it seems to me.

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Images courtesy of Nate D. Sanders Auctions, with our thanks.

Librarian by Day, Nude Butler by Night

February 2, 2012, 2:30 am

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by Stephen J. Gertz

Russell Davies, a 28-year old a librarian at Hartshill Library, in Nuneaton, Warwickshire, U.K., assists the bookworm in need while fully clothed. By night, he assists on the domestic front serving the needs of ladies seeking a little fun.

He's The Naked Butler.

In a great example of pretzel-logic, he says that he knew he could be an excellent nude butler after he trained as a wrester at the Ultimate Pro Wrestling Training School here in the U.S.A. We thus learn why the P.G. Wodehouse characters got along - Jeeves never put the Tilt-a-Whirl Crossbody Press on Bertie. It just isn't done.

It's the skimpy outfits, Russell says.

He, until recently, kept his nocturnal vocation a secret from his boss and colleagues at the library.

“They were all pretty shocked. But it was fine. I haven’t told my parents what I do. I think my mum wouldn’t like it but they live Spain.”

He works ladies "hen" parties, which he says can get pretty wild. Let's face it: the Dewey Decimal System is not for kids. Older women are generally the randiest. "Sometimes the women will be screaming. They do try to pinch your bum."

His girlfriend doesn't mind. She's Jemma Palmer, aka Gladiator Inferno, a wrestling star. It is unclear whether she serves as Sergeant-At-Arms while Russell services. Someone's got to referee when the ladies put the Body Avalanche on him.

Next time you visit your local library, should the Reference Desk librarian sport a mohawk and split the seams of his Keep Calm and Carry On T-shirt, do not be alarmed. Be good.  You may be served champagne. Be rude and it's the Leapfrog Body Guillotine for you.

"Hat's off to Russell," a library patron exclaims. "I've hired him for my Friday night book club. Fine condition in handsome binding, and a colophon that won't quit. "And the book isn't bad, either."

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Full story at Sunday Mercury.

Thanks to LISNews for the lead.

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Image courtesy of Buff Naked Butlers, with our thanks.
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The 45th California International Antiquarian Book Fair Comes to Pasadena

February 6, 2012, 2:30 am

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by Stephen J. Gertz

200 members of the Antiquarian Booksellers’ Association of America (ABAA) and the International League of Antiquarian Booksellers (ILAB) from around the globe will exhibit their  wares at the largest rare and antiquarian book fair in the world this coming weekend, February 10-12, at the 45th California International Antiquarian Book Fair, held in the new Pasadena Convention Center in Pasadena, California.

The  fair provides book lovers and collectors with the opportunity to see, learn about and purchase the finest in rare and valuable books, manuscripts, autographs, graphics, prints, maps, photographs and more. There are books to satisfy almost every conceivable interest and within every budget.

It's Destination: Pasadena to enjoy the Book Fair and the city's many cultural attractions and great restaurants. And to discover books, prints and ephemera you weren't aware of, from all over the world, all under one roof. That's still the primary purpose of Book Fairs, which began in Franfkort, Germany in the sixteenth century. They continue to be critical to book lovers and collectors in the 21st century. The Internet is great if you know what you're looking for but does not provide the opportunity for book-hunting adventure, serendipitous encounters, and social interaction with booksellers and fellow collectors from around the globe. The California International Antiquarian Book Fair is action-central.

For those whose budget has vast breathing room, a copy of Lucas Brandis' Rudimentum Novitiorum (Handbook for Beginners), the first chronicle of the world, based upon medieval theology and the first work to contain printed maps, is being offered by Daniel Crouch Rare Books of London. Published in Lubeck in 1475 and now a great rarity in the marketplace, the asking price is $1,150,000. Want a leaf from the Gutenberg Bible? $85,000.

On the lower end of the scale, Vagabond Books is offering a post-production script for Stanley Kubrick's The Shining, signed by Kubrick, Stephen King, Jack Nicholson, and Shelley Duvall for $750. And there are many other desirable items for less.

“It’s impossible to walk through the aisles of the Book Fair without being wowed by the visual beauty and cultural significance of the volumes on display,” said Michael R. Thompson, Book Fair Chair of the Southern California Chapter of the ABAA, which organizes the event.  “First time visitors are amazed that they can browse, touch and even go home with items that they imagine could only be found in a museum or special collections library.”

The Fair's theme is A Love Affair With Books: Personal Stories of Noted Collectors, featuring a colorful, wide-ranging exhibit that examines the avid pursuits of rare book collectors past and present -- from legendary library builders such as Henry Huntington and William Andrews Clark to contemporary Southern California book lovers like actress Sarah Michelle Gellar and Academy Award-winning producer Tony Bill.

On Saturday, February 11 from 3PM - 4PM, a panel discussion will be held, A Love Affair with Books, featuring L.A. Times film critic Kenneth Turan, Tony Bill, respected gemologist Mary Murphy, and moderated by Los Angeles Times Columnist, author and TV/radio personality Patt Morrison.

Just prior to that, from 1:00 – 2:00 PM,  the Bibliographical Society of America sponsors Thomas Jefferson's Legacy:  Building the Rare Book Collections at the Library of Congress  a talk by Library of Congress Chief of the Rare Book and Special Collections Division Mark Dimunation.

On Sunday, February 12,  Book Collecting 101, a panel with leading booksellers Katy Carter, Brad Johnson and Carol Sandberg, explores the basics of starting, building and protecting your collection. Held from 11:30 AM - 12:30 PM, Q&A follows.

Always a favorite, Discovery Day, on Sunday 1:30- 3:00 PM, warmly invites Book Fair attendees to present up to three items to experts for free examination and appraisal.

Also on Sunday, February 12, from 12:15 - 1:15 p.m. Do You Need An Appraisal?, a panel with experts Samuel Hessel and Sheryl Jaeger, will discuss whether or not your collection should be appraised for sale, estate, or tax purposes.

The California International Antiquarian Book Fair is one of the world's great book events. If you love books be good to yourself and attend.

See you there.

WHEN: Friday, February 10 from 3 p.m. to 8 p.m.; Saturday, February 11 from 11 a.m. to 7 p.m. and Sunday, February 12 from 11 a.m. to 5 p.m.

WHERE: Pasadena Convention Center, 300 East Green Street, Pasadena, CA.

ADMISSION: Friday tickets are $25 and provide three-day admission; proceeds benefit the Huntington Library, Art Collections, and Botanical Gardens. Tickets Saturday or Sunday tickets are $15 and include return entry throughout the remainder of the Book Fair.  All tickets also include admission to the Huntington.

FOR MORE INFORMATION: visit labookfair.com or call 800-454-6401. Connect with the Book Fair through its pages on Twitter and  Facebook.

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Full disclosure: I am the current Chairman of the Southern California Chapter of the Antiquarian Booksellers Association of America, the Book Fair's host.

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A Not-So-Great Gatsby

February 7, 2012, 2:30 am

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Today's guest blogger is Howard Prouty of ReadInk.

by Howard Prouty

A first edition of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s 1925 masterpiece The Great Gatsby, with its original dust jacket, meets anybody’s definition of a big-ticket item.   Copies today (and there ain’t many) run in the neighborhood of $125,000 to $200,000, depending on the condition of the jacket.  Nice neighborhood.

Courtesy of Peter Harrington Rare Books.

The price-points on Gatsby illustrate what all collectors and dealers in modern first editions know: It’s the Jacket, Stupid.  Copies of the most desirable books “in jacket” are often priced ten (or more) times higher than their naked counterparts -- and many vintage modern firsts, especially pre-WWII titles, are difficult-to-impossible to find today with their original jackets in non-tattered condition.  It’s small supply-vs.-big demand, and the resulting prices would choke your horse, if you could still afford a horse.

But take Gatsby’s gorgeous, Francis Cugat-designed paper wraparound out of the equation, and things cool down considerably: several quite decent (i.e. not falling-apart) copies of the first edition sans jacket are available for a mere $1,200 to $1,500.  It’s not rocket science: the jacket is rare, but the book is not.  The first printing of Gatsby, after all, produced a quite respectable 20,870 copies, of which many thousands are no doubt still extant.  Like this one, for instance - still extant, but practically on life-support:

Now, make no mistake: this is a gen-u-wine first edition of The Great Gatsby.  It meets all the textual points (“sick in tired” and the rest of it).  But it’s also an utter horror, having been degraded over its lifetime into a condition that you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy’s bankbook.  Like Keith Richards, when you gaze upon it you just have to shake your head and marvel that it’s still kicking around at all.

O Gatsby, poor Gatsby!  How many things are wrong with thee?  Let me count the ways:

For starters, it was once book #32395 in the “Readers’ Library” (i.e., rental library) of a major Los Angeles department store - the Broadway, at 4th & Hill Streets - a fact boldly advertised by that lavender-colored printed label plastered onto its front cover.   (The little swastikas at the corner are a nice decorative touch, albeit a little jarring to the modern post-Hitler eye.)

Also, the book is damn close to falling apart, thanks to careless (or maybe just excessive) handling by the dozens (hundreds?) of people through whose occasionally grubby mitts it passed, for who knows how long before the store decided to retire it.  The binding is shot, the corners are mashed and frayed, the gilt lettering on the spine has worn away, a couple of pages have come loose, the edges of the pages are soiled and dog-eared, and worst of all (at least from a bibliographic p.o.v.), the title page is completely gone.

And there’s yet another goddamn label in the thing, a really big one that covers most of the front pastedown endpaper, and lays out all the rules and procedures of the Broadway’s book-rental operation:

 This tells us perhaps the saddest news of all about this sad, sad book, the greatest indignity visited upon this particular copy and, by extension, its author (in capital letters and underlined, no less): THIS IS A ONE-CENT-A-DAY BOOK.  That’s right, folks: in the judgment of some department-store “librarian,” The Great Gatsby, one of our country’s great literary treasures, didn’t even qualify as a Two-Cent-a-Day Book.  We can only hope that Scott Fitzgerald himself never wandered into the Broadway’s Renters’ Library, while Zelda (or maybe Sheilah Graham) was downstairs buying a pair of nylons or something, to observe the value that one of L.A.’s finest retail establishments had placed on his masterpiece.  That could drive you to drink, for sure.

I mean, seriously: how pathetic can one copy of one Great Book possibly be?

And yet, and yet...There is one more thing:

Let me quickly extrapolate an interesting number, based on that relatively el cheapo $125K copy of Gatsby mentioned above.  If the book itself in that instance (in “Very Good to Fine” condition, per its seller) is worth, say, $5,000, then that would value the dust jacket itself at $120,000.  (Such are the vagaries of the marketplace that this could all change tomorrow -- for one thing, if somebody buys that copy, then the bargain-basement price abruptly becomes $190,000 - but for purposes of demonstration, bear with me.)  The complete jacket measures about 17-1/4 x 7-1/2 inches - that’s 125 square inches of paper, printed on one side only, worth about $960 per square inch.  Now hold that thought, as we turn our attention back to our poor, trashed-up, ex-rental library copy of Gatsby.

Because still another imprecation was visited upon this miserable book, a not-uncommon rental-library procedure of the day: affixed to the front endpaper is a printed blurb about it, helpfully informing the prospective renter-reader that “Here is a novel, glamorous, ironical, compassionate -- a marvelous fusion into unity of the curious incongruities of the life of the period - which reveals a hero like no other...[etc.].”  Then, as now, you see, the best way to get a quick fix on what a book was about, and a sense of whether it would be worth your time and money, would be to quickly skim the blurb...on the jacket. The dust jacket...

 Hey!  Holy Cow! That’s exactly where the rental-library people got that blurb - clipped it right out of the rear panel of the dust jacket.  That’s right: it’s a nice big piece of that $120,000 dust jacket! A 4-1/4-inch by 6-1/8-inch piece, to be exact - wow, now I do need my calculator!  Oh my gosh, that’s a full 20.8% of the original jacket!  Let’s see now, $120,000 times .208 equals...$24,960! Yowzah!  Jackpot!  And if somebody snaps that $125K copy up (lessee, $185,000 times .208...!!!!)

Well, not exactly.  Even a dope such as myself, who’s only been in the book trade for about as long as Fitzgerald had left to live, post-Gatsby (hmmm...) - and has never been lucky enough to have a real Gatsby pass through his hands - knows that ain’t how it works.  It’s hardly even kosher to call this a “partial jacket,” so far, far away from its original, desirable, collectible condition has it been carried by its cumulative hands of fate.  And banish any thoughts of “restoration.” Nothing short of resurrection would bring this one back.  So all that stuff about square inches, doing the math, etc.? Just kidding!

This is all the more painful because right smack in the middle of that clipped-out-and-glued-down blurb is the incontrovertible evidence that this 20.8% was, in fact, once part of an original first edition Gatsby jacket.  Just as the book’s text conforms to all known points, so too does the blurb copy display the one thing that readily identifies a first-issue jacket: the capital “J” over-printed on the lower-case “j’ in “jay Gatsby.”  If this is the most famous and iconic dust jacket in literary history (and it is), then that is undoubtedly the most famous dust jacket typo of all time.

So what we have here is that most maudit of all things in the rare book universe: an uncollectable copy of a highly collectable book.   One hears it (and says it) over and over and over again: condition, condition, condition.  You’ll understand this if you’ve ever watched a serious collector (or dealer) pick up a book, turn it over and around and upside down, hold it close to their face and squint at it... and then say something along the lines of “yeah, it’s pretty nice, but too bad about that little smudge at the bottom of page 57 [or slight fading of the spine, or itsy-bitsy tear at the bottom of the rear jacket panel, or whatever].”

On your better books, the consequences of such minor blemishes can often be measured in the hundreds or even thousands of dollars.  Although this might seem silly to the uninitiated, I assure you it’s nothing to be sneezed at - but if you must sneeze, for God’s sake turn your head away from the book!

So as a bookseller, what am I to do with this poor, put-upon first edition of The Great Gatsby, which might just be The Worst Copy in the World?  To sell it, I have to price it -- but what justifies a price (any price) for a book that, by any reasonable standard pegged to its physical condition, should’ve been trashed years ago?  Truth be told, if it hadn’t been a Gatsby I’d have probably done just that myself.  But it is. 

OK, I admit it: I’m a romantic.  In fact, when I hold this book in my hands, I can’t help but think of Scott and Zelda themselves: beautiful, charmed, talented . . . yet ultimately brought to ruin by illness, drink, disillusionment and failure.  Although Fitzgerald’s place as a titan of American literature now seems secure, as does the stature of Gatsby itself as both a (some would say the) Great American Novel and an absolute superstar in the rare-book world, none of this was the case during his lifetime.

The book’s initial sales were tepid, and in retrospect it seems startlingly clear that his career had already peaked.  His remaining decade and a half was essentially a long downward spiral, during which his creative wellspring was inexorably smothered by financial worries, Zelda’s mental health issues, booze and Hollywood.  He completed just one more novel after Gatsby - 1934's Tender is the Night - and by the time he drank himself to death in California, at age forty-four in 1940, all his major work was out of print and his reputation was in the cellar.  The public, to the extent that they still thought about him at all, had mostly written him off as a has-been.  (Posthumously, of course, he’s done much better.)

So because of all that, it’s easy for me to find reasons to love this particular copy of a book I love anyway, in spite of -- or maybe because of -- the very fact that it’s been so ill-treated by everybody else.  For instance, I love how, with the loose binding and missing title page, the book falls open directly to the dedication page, which reads “Once again, to Zelda.”  I also love that one of those long-ago readers was moved to mark this particular passage on page 134, with a simple pencil line in the margin:

But mostly, I guess, I just groove to the whole metaphorical weltschmerz of the poor thing -- so achingly evocative of the lack of respect and appreciation that hounded its author for too much of his too-short life.  

And finally, I find it sublimely heartbreaking that this wonderful, moving work - this towering achievement of American literature - could ever have been just another One-Cent-a-Day Book.
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If you find yourself anywhere near Pasadena this weekend, and would like to pay your respects to this Not-So-Great Gatsby, please come by my booth (#505) at the 45th  California International Antiquarian Book Fair.  I’ll be giving it pride of place, highlighted and headlined as “The Worst Copy in the World.”  And because I am, after all, a bookseller, there’ll be a price-tag on it, too, if you want to take it home with you.  Don’t mind me, though, if I shed a little tear as it walks out of my life.
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All images, except where noted otherwise, are courtesy of ReadInk, with our thanks; a special thank you to Howard Prouty for this delightful contribution (SJG).

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Of related interest:

In Paris With Scott, Zelda, Kiki, Ernest, Gertrude, Etc., and George Barbier.

F. Scott Fitzgerald at Princeton.

The 45th California Antiquarian Book Fair Comes to Pasadena.
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When Charles Dickens Met Hans Christian Andersen: The Nightmare Visit

February 8, 2012, 2:30 am

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by Stephen J. Gertz

In June 1847, Hans Christian Andersen, who had won acclaim throughout Europe and America for his childrens stories, visited England for the first time. The great Dane earned triumphal social success during his summer in  London as the guest of  Countess Blessington, who attracted the cream of Europe's intelligentsia to her soirees. It was at one such gathering that Andersen was introduced to Charles Dickens, whom he greatly admired.

On July 30, 1847 Dickens, who reciprocated Andersen's admiration, paid a call on him at his lodgings. Andersen, however, was not present and so Dickens left the small parcel containing twelve presentation copies of his books as gifts accompanied with a note.

Of those twelve presentation copies, four were bequeathed to the Royal Library, Copenhagen, and seven were later sent to auction. Of those seven auctioned copies, only five have been accounted for: at Dickens' House, London; the Free Library in Philadelphia; a copy ultimately presented in 1956 to the Andersen Museum, Odense; the Webster Currie copy; and that at Sotheby's sale LN8412, lot 111. Only nine of the twelve copies are thus recorded. A few years ago I handled one of those three "lost" copies, a second edition of Pictures From Italy (1846).

"On his first visit to England in 1847, Hans Christian Andersen was overjoyed to make the acquaintance of 'the greatest writer of our time,' Charles Dickens. During the ten years following his return to Denmark, a friendly correspondence developed and culminated in his returning to England to spend five weeks as Dickens' guest at Gadshill. The visit was a failure and Dickens soon afterward broke off the correspondence" (Ford. George H. (Review of) Hans Andersen and Charles Dickens by Elias Bredsdorff. Nineteenth-Century Fiction, Vol 12, No. 2 [Sept. 1957], p. 166).

Of Anderson's visit Dickens wrote, "…whenever he got to London, he got into wild entanglements of Cabs and Sherry, and never seemed to get out of them again until he came back here, and cut out paper into all sorts of patterns, and gathered the strangest little nosegays in the woods. His unintelligible vocabulary was marvelous" (Dickens, letter to William Jerdan, July 21, 1857).

The Danish Man Who Came To Dinner was supposed to stay with Dickens and his family for only two weeks. Though a genial host, Dickens dropped hints for Andersen to end his stay; they were, apparently, too subtle. The patience of the Dickens children was strained to the limit and daughter Kate would later recall that Andersen "was a bony bore, and stayed on and on" (Storey, Gladys. Dickens and Daughter. London, 1939). Andersen thoroughly enjoyed his visit, oblivious to the effect his extended holiday was having on his hosts. After he finally left, Dickens wrote on the mirror in the guestroom: “Hans Andersen slept in this room for five weeks — which seemed to the family AGES!” Clueless, Andersen never quite understood why Dickens afterward ceased to answer his letters.

Though the story may be apocryphal, it is said that "the bony bore" provided Dickens with the physical model for the obsequious Uriah Heep, the sharply limned character in David Copperfield, with, perhaps, a few of Andersen's personality traits added to the "very 'umble man."

The comic quality of Andersen's social awkwardness and  ineptitude provide the underlying significance of his work and the reason why his stories have endured and will remain classics. His earliest examples (Thumbelina, The Emperor's New Clothes, etc.), like those of the Brothers Grimm and Charles Perrault, though quite successful and bringing him fame, were interpretations of regional folk tales. His major contribution to world literature was to come with his second collection of stories, Nye Eventyre (New Fairly Tales) which were wholly original creations. In these stories, which include The Ugly Duckling, The Nightingale, The Red Shoes, The Snow Queen, The Little Match Girl, etc., the protagonists begin as sad, awkward, lonely characters adrift in a strange, often cruel world for which they are ill-equipped but, who, by story's end have overcome their circumstances and become misfit heroes, their hopes and yearnings fulfilled. Andersen had identified a universal archetype and it was him. Even more to the point, he was amongst the first writers who might be considered modern insofar as using the arc his personal life and psychological history as the basis for his characters.

It's interesting that Dickens, whose circumstances in childhood shaped his fiction, and Andersen, whose childhood informed his writing, were, at arm's length completely simpatico, but when drawn into close quarters for any length of time drove, at least Charles Dickens, nuts. Dickens, I imagine, preferred that his characters remain on the page and not come to actual life and wear out their welcome by showing up on his doorstep for an  interminable - and unendurable - stay, ala Sheridan Whiteside, who came to dinner and never left but at least was entertaining while terrorizing his hosts, "And now, will you all now leave quietly, or must I ask Miss Cutler to pass among you with a baseball bat?," a sentiment I suspect Dickens may have had success with had he directly expressed it to Andersen.

See: Dal, Eric, Nogle flere boger fra H.C. Andersen boghylde, in Andersenania 1992. Letters of Charles Dickens, Volume 8. Sotheby's Sale LN8412, Lot 111.

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DICKENS, Charles. Pictures From Italy. The Vignette Illustrations on Wood, by Samuel Palmer. London: Published for the Author, by Bradbury & Evans, 1846. Second edition. Presentation Copy, inscribed by Dickens on the half-title in ink: "Hans Christian Anderson / From His friend and admirer / Charles Dickens / London Jul. 1847." Octavo. [8], 269, [1], [2, ads] pp.

Nineteenth-century full red crushed levant morocco  by F. Bedford (stamp-signed in gilt on front turn-in). Covers with gilt triple fillet border, spine decoratively tooled and lettered in gilt in compartments, board edges ruled in gilt, turn-ins decoratively tooled in gilt, top edge gilt, others uncut.  Housed in a full dark green morocco pull-off box.

Cf. Smith II, 7. Cf. Eckel p. 126-127.

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Images courtesy of David Brass Rare Books, with our thanks.

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The above is freely adapted from a post I wrote for DBRB in 2008.
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Charles Dickens on Booktryst:

Slumming with Charles Dickens: New York Library Relives his American Tours.

Charles Dickens' Model for the Modern Rehab Facility.

Charles Dickens' Deluxe Dental Tool is Top Pick at Bonhams.

Victorian Advertisements in Charles Dickens' Serial Novels.

Beyond A Christmas Carol: Charles Dickens' Other Holiday Treats.

The Woman Who Infuriated Dickens.

All Points Bulletin: A "Pure" Pickwick Papers.
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The Art of Japanese Hair Comb Patterns (Kushi Hinagata)

February 9, 2012, 2:30 am

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by Stephen J. Gertz

Sometime post-1905, an anonymous gentleman in Japan, wishing to preserve his collection of rice-paper rubbings of setsu kushi hinagata (patterns of miniature combs),  took three issues of Japan Art Society Reports from the 37th Year of the Meiji (1905), mounted the rubbings on each page,  had the issues bound together, crossed out the original titles and provided one in black ink.

Each page has two rubbed patterns, each pattern with upper and lower views of each comb, and the rubbings are remarkably sharp with even small details very  clear. The fact that the  patterns on the original combs had been so delicately carved is testament to the artistry brought to bear by their creators.

The resulting unique scrapbook features over 500 charcoal rubbings of miniature Japanese combs and hairpins (koagi).

The art of Japanese hair decoration, or kushi, dates back hundreds of years and has rich and varied heritage. As with much Eastern art it served to "beautify items of everyday use, to make the commonplace extraordinary [and] to tell of the life and status of the wearers, who were geisha, courtesans, court ladies, and housewives" (Daruma 35, vol. 9, No. 3, Summer 2002). And, indeed, this work is a testament to the beautiful and elegant diversity of this Japanese decorative art.

It's a curious, attractive and visually arresting book, one with clear aesthetic merit given the obsessive care and attention necessary to compile such a volume. As such, it's a valuable historical, cultural, and artistic record as well as an object that, as much as its subject, renders the commonplace extraordinary, and takes its place along side of Katsushika Hokusai's classic three-volume Imayo Kushi Hinagata (1823) as a key reference.

Traditional comb shapes are half moon, horseshoe, and square. The combs were often worn in concert with koagi (hair pins) in classical Japanese hairdressing.

Sakura (cherry blossoms), ume (Japanese plums), chrysanthemums, and peonies are typically employed patterns.

"Women have always adorned themselves but perhaps none so subtly as the Japanese. You can reproduce the old hairstyles seen in painting and sculpture but their hair ornaments remind us of the coiffures on which they were worn. In other words, hair ornaments are tangible souvenirs of ancient hairstyles.

 

"Hair ornaments were not mere accessories to feminine coiffure and attire. In keeping with the Japanese urge to beautify items of everyday use, to make the commonplace extraordinary, they were turned into artistic objects mirroring cultural and and social history. They tell of the life and status of their wearers, who were geisha, courtesans, court ladies, and housewives.

"They give a glimpse of the exceptional beauty of Japanese art..." (Ibid. Daruma). 

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Images courtesy of David Brass Rare Books, with our thanks.
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Rudimentum Novitiorum Sells For $1,150,000 At California International Antiquarian Book Fair

February 13, 2012, 2:30 am

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by Stephen J. Gertz

Map of the Holy Land, from Rudimentum Novitiorum, 1475.

A scarce, contemporaneously hand-colored copy of Rudimentum Novitiorum, the first printed history of the world, published in 1475, and the first printed book to feature maps, sold for $1,150,000 at the 45th California International Antiquarian Book Fair this past weekend in Pasadena, CA, as did "The World's Worst Copy of Gatsby," a first edition, first printing train wreck  with a significant remnant of the $175,000 dust jacket pasted within, for $500. Some thought it was worth twice that, a true silk purse stitched from a sow's ear.

That those sales occurred within the Fair's opening hours was a harbinger of good things to come. While walking recon on Friday night I observed invoices being written and written often, eye music that continued throughout the weekend and calmed this anxious heart. Following the economy, the last few years have been rough on the rare book trade. "It is not the end. Nor is it the beginning of the end. But it is the end of the beginning." A new day is dawning. It's Morning in Booktown. Suddenly, it's Spring. Optimism cliches are beginning to flower.

But let's not get carried away. The sunny psychosis can cloud judgment. There were dealers who did not do as well as hoped.  Yet every single bookseller had a great time.  And, to be sure, no hope no life. We each need to be a little psychotic to get through it.

Attendance for this California International Antiquarian Book Fair was the best since 2004*. Of particular note was the large number of young people seen walking the aisles. Those wondering through despairing whether a younger generation would become book collectors should take heart. They are, perhaps, in the embryonic stage of the passion, looking around, seeing what's what, but will, the book gods willing, grow into neonates and further develop as their interest matures and budget allows.

Each of the special programs - Library of Congress Director of Rare Books and Special Collections, Mark Dimunation, on Thomas Jefferson's book collection (the cornerstone of the LOC);  Personal Stories of Noted Collectors, a panel featuring academy-Award-winning producer, Tony Bill, Los Angeles Times film critic Kenneth Turan, renowned gemologist Mary Murphy, and moderated by L.A. Times columnist and Southern California TV/radio personality, Patt Morrison; the always popular Rare Books 101; and Discovery Day, where the old books from the attic are examined by a panel of experts to see if there's a reason for hope - was standing-room only.

Everyone was extremely pleased with the new venue. The Pasadena Convention Center - spacious and well-lit, with all the amenities dealers could hope for to make life easy for them - will remain, for the forseeable future, the California International Antiquarian Book Fair's home when in Southern California (it alternates annually with San Francisco).

As for book lovers and collectors - they were over the moon. And why not? The best rare books exhibited by the best rare booksellers in the world, the opportunity to see and hold historic volumes, the books that have given meaning to our lives, the old books with engaging and compelling back-stories that beg to be on your bookshelf, from the stunning beauty and often scathing satire of eighteenth and nineteenth century hand-colored engraved illustration albums through a pristine copy of J.D. Ballard's scarce Why I Want To Fuck Ronald Reagan, and everything in between and centuries before, the wonderful ones you didn't know about, all under one roof - it's a book lover's three-day weekend in Disneyland, an E-ticket ride.

If you love to read, and appreciate art, craft, and the test of time as a measure of what's true from what's false, have an aversion to the artificial, a preference for content in the form that has yet to be improved upon, from the sacred to the profane and in the big middle, rare books are truly the coolest collectible. And when the California International Antiquarian Book Fair is in town, the cool gets red hot.
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* For SoCal.
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The California International Antiquarian Book Fair is sponsored by the Antiquarian Booksellers Association of  America.

Visit the 45th California International Antiquarian Book Fair website.

Stop by the 45th California International Antiquarian Book Fair's Facebook and Twitter. pages. Fair updates continue.
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An Anti-Valentine's Day Card To Huffington Post's Book Section

February 14, 2012, 2:30 am

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by Stephen J. Gertz

On February 10, 2012, the day that the largest rare book fair on Earth opened - one of the most significant book events in the world with 200 antiquarian booksellers from around the globe congregating to exhibit the best rare and antiquarian books on the planet - what was on the Huffington Post's Book Page?

Love Me Not - 7 Books You Realy Shouldn't Get For Your Valentine

9 Books That Cause Irrational Phobias

What Is The Vampire Novel of the Century?

Harry Potter and Voidemort Play Plead The Fifth On 'Watch What Happens Live'

JFK's Other Women: 7 Alleged Mistresses

'Game Of Thrones' Season 2 First Look

Funny: Lincoln's Intern Finally Comes Clean About Affair

New Book: Simple Ways To Stop Doing Dumb  Things With Money

New Lemony Snicket Series Begins This Fall

Disturbing Trend Found In New Children's Books

Why EBooks Don't Mean The Death Of Print

Protecting Your Bright Ideas From Literary Scavengers

Watch: Sophie Blackall Illustrates Missed Connections

New Book: Why Sinning Is Good For You

'Twilight Director Says Script 'Sucked'

Which Book Received The Meanest Review Of The Year

12 Lies That Politicians Tell About Jobs

Author: My Book Was Banned In My Country

New Book: Unexpected Ways To Find Your Ancestors

And Your Favorite Dickens Character Is?

Why You've Learned More Languages Than You Think

'Other Press' Wins Nerdiest Superbowl Wager Ever

Why Creative Writing Classes Don't Work

Amy Adams To Help Adapt Steve Martin's Book, 'Object Of Beauty'

The Real Cost Of Library Cuts

Book Roundup: 5 Reasons To Love Madonna 

Not a word, a whisper, a who, what, when, or where about the 45th California International Antiquarian Book Fair. Yes, it did not take place in Ulan Bator, Patagonia, Mozambique, or Outer Mongolia. It was held in Pasadena, CA, just a few miles out of downtown Los Angeles, one of the nation's major markets and the world's great cities.

It wasn't a secret. It was all over the media in Southern California. The Los Angeles Times featured a story about it on the front page of their Calendar section covering the arts and entertainment. Local radio and television coverage was solid. Even the Hollywood Reporter devoted a full-page to report on it, detailing all the stars that collect rare books and how the California International Antiquarian Book Fair is their mecca.

It's not as if the Huffington Post didn't have a head's-up. I have been an occasional blogger for Huff Post for  a couple of years; a post about the book fair sat in my queue for five days prior to the book fair's opening.  After a few days of nothing, I dropped a note to Huff Post's Blogteam inquiring about it. Would it run? No response at all.

Booktryst's piece on the Fair ran on Monday, February 6th. If Huff Post somehow missed the post in my queue, they would have seen it on Booktryst; we have been on major media's radar since the site debuted, in May, 2010, otherwise they would not have welcomed the cross-posting arrangement soon afterward. And Booktryst's coverage was a page one story on Google News - Rare Books for the entire week leading up to the Fair's premiere. 

The Fair's publicist made direct contact with Huff Post. There was no shortage of alerts.

Now, I am surely disappointed that they didn't run my piece about it. But I am even more disappointed - and rather shocked - that they didn't cover the 45th California International Antiquarian Book Fair at all, by anyone, nada, ziltch, nicht, bubkus. One of the most important book stories in the U.S., a major international cultural event, and one of the book world's most anticipated happenings was completely ignored.

But Coked Up Stimulus Monkeys was not; big news on Huff Post's book page.

They did, however, cover a major non-event in the world of rare books: "Watch: The 'Pawn Stars' Appraise A Signed Copy of Edward VIII's Memoirs." It was a signal event for Huff Post, signaling that the 'Pawn Stars' are now another Huff Post novelty-entertainment hook passing for hard book news. The 'Pawn Stars' seem like nice guys but they do not know a damned thing about rare books, or, at least, not enough to provide an informed professional appraisal. It isn't enough to go online to research. You actually have to have deep experience to know how to truly appraise a rare book.

People want to know how expensive a rare book is; the higher the price, the more attractive the story.  A copy of Audubon's Birds of America sold last month for $7.9 million last month.  That got Huff Post's attention. The California International Antiquarian Book Fair certainly had a big ticket volume to crow about: A scarce, hand-colored copy of Rudimentum Novitiorum, published in 1475, the first history of the world in print and the first printed book to contain maps. Asking price: $1,150,000. (It sold). Not too shabby. That eye-opening fact was certainly not buried in any pre-Fair coverage.

The many charms of Arianna Huffington cannot mask the sense that the editorial policy of Huff Post appears to be based upon the promiscuous use of "click-bait" tabloid headers for book stories of dubious newsworthiness and significance, often as thin as rice paper but no where near as durable. "Click-bait"  - luring readers to a story with a grabby pop-headline that may or may not accurately represent content - is not a journalistic crime; it has been going on since the dawn of newspapers. But it is rarely used more egregiously than on Huff Post.

And that is, ultimately, the problem with their policy, which appears to be based upon generating as many pages and page-views as possible with little regard for the quality of stories. Or, it seems, their importance.

Shame on the Huffington Post's Book Section. On this Valentine's Day, the love affair is over.

I am not expressing sour grapes. The 45th California International Antiquarian Book Fair was not my story. It was the book world's story, and Huff Post betrayed the world it is supposed to serve. Room, apparently, had to be made for Top Ten Celebrity Rehab Moments, a story about a new novel, the book Gutenberg had in the back of his mind when he imagined movable type but after bleeding with leeches was drained of the vile humour and, purged of sin, printed the Bible instead.

That must have been one hell of an editorial meeting. Perhaps a little bloodletting at Huff Post might cure the sick patient.

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DISCLAIMER: The views and opinions expressed on Booktryst are solely its own, and do not represent those of the Antiquarian Booksellers Association of America (ABAA), with which I am associated.

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Life in Paris With George Cruikshank

February 15, 2012, 2:30 am

≫ Next: The Beautiful Inlaid Pictorial Bindings of Chris Lewis

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by Stephen J. Gertz

In 1821, journalist Pierce Egan published Life in London or, the Day and Night Scenes of Jerry Hawthorn, esq., and his elegant friend, Corinthian Tom, accompanied by Bob Logic, the Oxonian, in their rambles and Sprees through the Metropolis, illustrated by the Cruikshank brothers, George and Robert.

It was an immediate, wild success. It's characters, Tom and Jerry, entered British pop-culture, spawning a French translation, six plays, and then traveled to America to begin a Tom and Jerry craze in the U.S. (Hanna-Barbera's popular animated cartoon series Tom & Jerry, cat v. mouse, harkens back to the original characters but has nothing to do with them).

In 1822, to capitalize on the success of Life in London, journalist David Carey published Life in Paris; Comprising the Rambles, Sprees, and Amours, of Dick Wildfire, or Corinthian Celebrity, and his Bang-up Companions, Squire Jenkins and Captain O'Shuffleton; with the Whimsical Adventures of the Halibut Family; Including Sketches of a Variety of other Eccentric Characters in the French Metropolis.

It, too was a Cruikshank-illustrated book but only by  George, and, as  Life in London, was originally issued in monthly parts. The frontispiece is similar to that created for Life in London. Life in Paris is one of the best of the many imitations of Egan's classic. Cruikshank contributed twenty-one hand-colored aquatint plates (including the engraved title) and twenty-two wood-engraved text vignettes.

Born in Scotland, author David Carey (1782-1824) worked for Edinburgh publisher, Archibald Constable, before moving to London and establishing himself as a journalist and poet; his first poem, An Elegy Written on the Death of a Friend, appeared in 1798 when he was sixteen years old.

Between 1803 and his death at age forty-two, he published eighteen books, primarily collections of his poetry. From 1809-1811 he was editor of The Poetical Magazine, published by Rudolph Ackermann as, according to Tooley (English Books With Color Plates), a vehicle to absorb all the poems submitted to the publisher's Repository of Arts for consideration. A year after publishing Life in Paris he returned to Scotland. In the year afterward, in 1824, he died of consumption.

Of the immortal George Cruikshank (1792-1878), little need be added here. Caricaturist and book illustrator, he was praised as the 'modern Hogarth" during his career, and his illustrations for books by Dickens and many other authors earned him an international reputation.

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[CRUIKSHANK, George, Illustrator]. CAREY, David. Life in Paris; Comprising the Rambles, Sprees, and Amours, of Dick Wildfire, or Corinthian Celebrity, and his Bang-up Companions, Squire Jenkins and Captain O'Shuffleton; with the Whimsical Adventures of the Halibut Family; Including Sketches of a Variety of other Eccentric Characters in the French Metropolis. Embellished with Twenty-One Coloured Plates representing Scenes from Real Life, designed and engraved by Mr. George Cruikshank. Enriched also with Twenty-Two Engravings on Wood, drawn by the same Artist, and executed by Mr. White. London: Printed for John Fairburn... sold by Sherwood, Neely, and Jones, [et al.], 1822.

First edition, Royal [Large Paper] Edition. Octavo (9 15/16 x  6 1/4 inches; 252 x 161mm.). xxiv, 489, [3 blank] pp. 4 pp. publishers advertisements (5 3/4 x 3 3/4 inches; 146 x 95 mm.).Twenty-one hand-colored aquatint plates (including engraved title) and twenty-two wood-engraved vignettes in text. Text and plates watermarked J. Whatman 1822. Bound without the directions to the binder leaf. Of the two cancels which were supplied with the final issue in parts, both (pp. 143-4  and pp. 335-6) have been inserted in this copy, in place of the original leaves.

Original pictorial boards. The front cover lettered in black and with five woodcut scenes printed in black "Dressing; Polishing; The Round of Pleasure; Dancing; Gaming", the back cover with five more woodcut scenes printed in black "Luxury; Labour; Amusement; Frippery; Finery". The spine lettered in black "Life in Paris / by David Carey / Royal Edition / Price £1. 11s. 6d. / 1822" and with two more woodcut scenes also printed in black. All edges uncut.

An extremely scarce, unrecorded edition. The woodcut illustrations on the boards are completely different than those of the small-paper copies cited by Abbey and Cohn. In fact, Abbey refers to the large-paper copies as measuring 8 7/8 x 5 11/16 inches, whereas this copy is a full one inch taller and half an inch wider, and so it is unclear whether Abbey had actually seen a Large Paper Copy in the original boards.

Abbey, Travel, 112. Cohn 109. Tooley 129.
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Images courtesy of David Brass Rare Books, with our thanks.
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The Beautiful Inlaid Pictorial Bindings of Chris Lewis

February 16, 2012, 2:30 am

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by Stephen J. Gertz

Chris Lewis was one of Bayntun-Riviere's most talented 'finishers" - the craftsperson who, after the book has been bound, executes the design. He designed and finished many unique inlaid bindings during his time at Bayntun-Riviere in the 1960s, established his own bindery in the 1970s, and returned to Bayntun prior to his death in the late eighties.

Here's a selection from a trove I recently had pass through my hands. Of particular note are the bindings he designed and bound in his own bindery, 1970 - early 1980s; it was then that he began to fully implement hand-painted highlights, a technique he began to experiment with while still at Baynton-Riviere (see Mr. Pickwick, below, with painted facial highlights), and which reached its apotheosis with his binding for the Rackham-illustrated edition of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.

[POGANY, Willy (Illustrator). GOETHE, Johann Wolfgang von. HAYWARD, Abraham (Translator). Faust. Translated by Abraham Hayward. With Illustrations by Willy Pogany. London: Hutchinson & Co., 1908. Bound c. 1960 by Bayntun-Riviere, designed and finished by Chris Lewis.

Detail.

Full crimson crushed morocco pictorially inlaid with orange, deep red, pale blue, sea green, deer brown, dark blue, white, dark brown, and beige morocco against a black-incised drawing that partially reproduces the illustration opposite p. 98, "Faust and Margaret in the Summer House,"  within a gilt-tooled border and outer frame of interlacing gilt strap-work. Gilt rolled edges. Raised bands with gilt ornaments, and compartments with gilt-ruled frames highlight the spine. Broad turn-ins decorated with gilt rules and floral corner devices. Pale pink end-leaves. All edges gilt.

REYNOLDS, Frank (Illustrator)]. DICKENS, Charles. Mr. Pickwick. London: Hodder & Stoughton, n.d. [1910]. Bound c. 1960 by Bayntun-Riviere, designed and finished by Chris Lewis.

Detail.

Full crimson crushed morocco with  charming pictorial, green, beige, brown, yellow, and flesh colored onlays  reproducing Frank Reynold's frontispiece of Mr. Pickwick within a central, sunken panel surrounded by four gilt-ruled borders enclosing prominent gilt corner-pieces of Tudor roses, leaves and swirls, gilt roses at each side. The lower cover reiterates the upper's gilt-work without the pictorial central panel. Wide turn-ins with large gilt corner-pieces and ruled borders. Raised bands with gilt ornaments, gilt framed and decorated or lettered compartments. Pales straw moire silk end-leaves. All edges gilt.

ROBINSON, W. Heath. Bill the Minder. London: Constable, 1912. Bound c. 1982, by Bayntun-Riviere, designed and finished by Chris Lewis.

Detail.

Full red crushed morocco with multi-colored pictorial inlays and black-stamped flowers that reproduce the color plate, "The King of Troy Compelled to Ask His Way," opposite p. 30, within a blind-tooled frame surrounded by gilt double-ruled borders. Raised bands with gilt tools and compartments with gilt ornaments within a gilt double-ruled frame highlight the spine. Gilt rolled edgework. Gilt decorated turn-ins. All edges gilt. Cockerell endleaves.

[RACKHAM, Arthur]. CARROLL, Lewis. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. London: William Heinemann, [1907]. Bound ca. 1980 by Chris Lewis of Bath.

Detail. Note painted highlights.

Full emerald morocco with double gilt fillets and a gilt-tooled central panel enclosing a multicolored pictorial inlay with original hand-coloring, reproducing A Mad Tea Party opposite p. 84. Gilt ornamented raised bands, gilt decorated compartments with ruled borders and central panel. Gilt rolled edges. Gilt tooled turn-ins.

RACKHAM, Arthur. The Romance of King Arthur and His Knights of the Round Table. Abridged from Malory's Morte D'Arthur by Alfred W. Pollard. Illustrated by Arthur Rackham. London: Macmillan and Co., Ltd., 1917. Bound by Chris Lewis (stamp-signed), c. early 1970s.

Detail. Note painted highlights.

Full crimson morocco. Triple gilt-ruled borders. Central pictorial inlay of Sir Launcelot slaying the dragon, with multi-colored morocco inlays and painted highlights. Gilt ornamented and decorated compartments. Gilt rolled edges. Gilt dentelles. Top edge gilt, others rough.

[RACKHAM, Arthur, artist]. SWINBURNE, Algernon Charles. The Springtide of Life. Poems of Childhood by Algernon Charles Swinburne. With a Preface by Edmund Gosse. Illustrated by Arthur Rackham. London" William Heinemann, (1918). Bound c. early 1970s by Chris Lewis.

Detail. Note painted highlights.

Full emerald morocco. Gilt-ruled border. Gilt frame enclosing a pictorial onlay of multi-colored morocco with painted highlights that reproduces the frontispiece. Gilt decorated compartments. Gilt rolled edges. Gilt rolled turn-ins. Top edge gilt.

Pictorially inlaid bindings were once quite popular. Chris Lewis caught the last wave, or, rather,  swam against the current. They fell out of fashion with the development of modernism and the integration of abstraction into binding designs by the mid-20th century. As a result, the art and craft is getting lost as the demand has ebbed and the skills declined. Chris Lewis was the last binder to specialize in the genre, and with few to carry on the tradition and pass the knowledge to another generation, the art of pictorially inlaid bindings may fade into binding history.

That would be unfortunate. While pictorially inlaid bindings belong to another era and are, for some, a bit too representational with a precious, diabetic quality that may cloy, they possess a traditional charm and craftsmanship that for many overrides modern taste: not too sweet at all, they're "just right."

Ultimately, master craftsmanship never goes out of style.

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Images courtesy of David Brass Rare Books, with our thanks.
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A Magnificent Padded Onlay Pictorial Binding

February 17, 2012, 2:30 am

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by Stephen J. Gertz

Yesterday, we looked at inlaid pictorial bindings by Chris Lewis 1960-1980. Today, we examine a beautiful onlaid pictorial binding by Riviére & Son, c. 1920s, just a few years before Bayntun of Bath acquired and merged the firm into its operations.

GILBERT, W.S. The "Bab" Ballads. London: John Camden Hotten, 1869. Bound c. 1920s by Riviere & Son.

The difference between an inlaid and onlaid binding suggests itself. Inlaid bindings involve placing varicolored pieces of cut and shaped leather into a matching, excised section of the main leather covering as a mosaic. The set-in pieces are generally flush with the surface or ever so slightly raised. 

GILBERT, W.S. More "Bab" Ballads. London: George Routledge, n.d. [1872]. Bound c. 1920s by Riviere & Son.

With onlaid bindings, the cut and shaped pieces are applied atop the main leather cover as a mosaic. In this example, the finisher (alas, unknown) went the extra distance and padded the pictorial onlays to bring them into high-relief, and how. The resulting scene pops off the background as sculptured leather with depth and contour.

Angle shows high-relief.

Robert Riviere (1808–1882), bookbinder, was born in London in 1808. Upon leaving school, in 1824, he apprenticed with Messrs. Allman, the booksellers, In 1829 he established his own book shop. In 1840 he established his own business as a bookbinder.

The excellent craftsmanship and fine taste demonstrated by his bindings gradually  Riviére the attention of connoisseurs, and he was employed by the Duke of Devonshire, Mr. Christie-Miller, Captain Brooke, and other great collectors. He also bound for the queen and the royal family.  He won
 a medal at the Great Exhibition of 1851 for his work.

Riviére's bindings, in the quality of materials, forwarding, finishing, and delicacy of the tooling deserve all the praise a binder can hope hope for. His bindings are wonderful specimens of artistic taste, skill. But though Riviére seldom strayed from traditional binding styles, the work of Riviére & Son remains the standard for quality and master craftsmanship.

Riviere bequeathed his business to this son-in-law in 1880, and the name of the firm was changed to Riviere & Son. Bayntun of Bath acquired Riviere  c. 1930.

Close-up: Note high-relief against background.

Not incidentally, biting, satirical, absurdist ballads were what W.S. Gilbert was up to before he  partnered-up with Arthur Sullivan, H.M.S. Pinafore, etc., to come. "Bab" as in "baby" was his nickname, his verse,  accompanied by his own comic illustrations, became extremely popular in FUN, a weekly mag, when they first appeared c.1865, and, by 1869, here we are, the first collected edition of The Babs Ballads with a first of it's follow-up, bound with a state of the craft padded onlay pictorial scene within a sunken panel bordered in gilt and framed by a broad, extravagant, exuberantly gilt decorated border with peacock-feather tooling because this binding has a lot to be proud of.

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[RIVIÉRE & SON, binders]. GILBERT, W.S. The "Bab" Ballads. [together with:] More "Bab" Ballads. Much Sound and Little Sense. London: John Camden Hotten [and] George Routledge and Sons, 1869 [and] (n.d., i.e. 1872).

First editions. Octavo (7 1/8 x 5 1/8 in; 180 x 128 mm). ix, [2], 14-222, [4, adv.]; viii, [1], 224, [4. adv.] pp. Black and white frontispieces with tissue guards, black and white text illustrations throughout.

Bound c. 1920 by Riviere & Son in full emerald crushed morocco with a broad, elaborately gilt decorated frame with floral spirals, peacock feather corner pieces, and peacock feathers at the mid-points, enclosing an ovate, gilt-bordered and decorated sunken central panel within which are figures from the text pictorially depicted with multi-colored, padded morocco onlays. Lower board with double fillets and gilt decorated corner pieces. Gilt-rolled raised bands. Gilt decorated compartments. Wide turn-ins with gilt corner pieces. All edges gilt. Moire silk endpapers. Gilt-rolled edges.

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Unpublished Significant Early Tennessee Williams Poem Surfaces

February 20, 2012, 2:30 am

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by Stephen J. Gertz

Between the end of May and the beginning of September 1937, Tennessee Williams, 26 years old and a student at Washington University in St. Louis, wrote a startling prose poem, one never published and completely unknown to Williams scholars.

The piece, titled The Body Awaits, a monologue spoken by a bum in a St. Louis flophouse, appears to be related to Williams' fourth apprentice play, Fugitive Kind, also written in 1937 and occurring in a flophouse. It is unclear whether the piece was working preparation for Fugitive Kind, or, alternatively, grew out of it, Williams sensing something that he wanted to develop independently from the play.

The work is eerily prescient of his sad, later years. It begins:

I am tired. I am tired of speech and action. If you should meet me upon the street and still know me in spite of my present condition I would prefer that you passed me without salutation. Your face is unknown to me now. I do not remember your name. Maybe we drank together once or shared grub in a jungle of flop-house somehwehre [sic] in a different state or different city but that was a long time ago.

And ends, in this draft:

Death is the last convenience. Perhaps it will be a truck skidding close to a corner on which I stand. Accident or on purpose? Who cares! A step or two forwards or backwards and the whole thing's done. The body awaits identification at the city morgue. Will you perform a post-mortem? In the heart of me you will find a tiny handful of dust. Take it and blow it out upon the wind. Let the wind have it and it will find its way home.

In corrected typescripts of two different versions of Williams's working drafts, the earlier is typed on both sides of a single sheet, double and single-spaced in blocks of text on the first side, with several versions of some lines; on the reverse a portion is  double-spaced, with a line by line layout.

These two drafts contain about twenty-five words in Williams's hand in pencil.

The later version is double-spaced on four pages (including two drafts of the second page), and has thirty-four words and other corrections in pencil, by Williams. It's signed in type and dated June, 1937.

Thomas A. Goldwasser, of Goldwasser Rare Books, currently offering the typescript, said,  "It is particularly interesting to see the budding playwright experimenting with voices and phrases and trying to expand his imaginative world."

Williams typescript/manuscript material is extremely difficult to acquire. "Almost all such Williams  material is held by institutions, and rarely appears for sale," Goldwasser notes.

Here we have, pre-Tennessee, Thomas Lanier Williams III, unhappy in childhood, depressed in adolescence, and only two years after a nervous breakdown, contemplating, in his mid-twenties, a void in the heart, exhaustion with life, a turning within and away from the world, and an acceptance if not welcome of death.

It ends with what would become Williams signature language, a soft, stylized tongue never heard in real life, the song of a splendid bird with broken wing who sought compassion for all the injured and sung with a voice desperately seeking lyric poetry in a brutal prose world. In the beginning he saw his end with a yearning to return to the refinement that he never knew as a child yet mourned just the same, the Never-Neverland of a tortured Peter Pan from Mississippi who sought grace in all things but experienced its subversion by gross reality.  Tennessee Williams was Blanche DuBois. In The Body Awaits, Blanche lies with her brothers, the lost, helpless souls wounded beyond salvation.

"In the heart of me you will find a tiny handful of dust. Take it and blow it out upon the wind. Let the wind have it and it will find its way home."

The body awaits delivery to where the mind has already arrived, to that supernal place where nightmares subside, dreams are never disturbed, and the kindness of strangers is no stranger.
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Image courtesy of Thomas A. Goldwasser Rare Books, with our thanks.
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Lenny Bruce, Screenwriter

February 21, 2012, 2:30 am

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by Stephen J. Gertz

In 1953, the year that Samuel Beckett's Waiting For Godot made its first public stage debut, another holy scripture found its place in the pantheon of dramaturgy.

Sleaze! Sex! Trashy production values! Timothy Farrell is Umberto Scalli, a gangster operating a seedy dance hall. Up-and-coming screen sensation, Lenny Bruce, is Vincent, his sadistic bodyguard keeping the girls on edge and the customers in line. Curvaceous co-star Honey Harlowe is Rose, whose shapely charms launched a thousand quips. Sally Marr is the weary-wise hostess with the mostess. Bunny Parker and Joie Abrams are dance hall girls with moves not taught by Arthur Murray. And Bernie Jones is Punky the Swedish Sailor, who passed-out in a Bergman film and woke up in this sordid nightmare of cheap thrills, hot flesh, violence, and depraved desires!

Fast and furious action, suspense, drama, and sexploitation...It's  Dance Hall Racket!

It's the tender tale of a young performer on the make, his desperate dream of movie stardom and attempt to make it happen with a screenplay from hunger; a honey of a wife, an ecdysiast built to last; his mother, Sally, a former burlesque comedienne; a director who studied at the Ed Wood Jr. school of cinema; and Punky the Swedish Sailor, who pines for a smorgasbord of Nordic meatballs while drowning his sorrows in a Baltic sea of eau-de-vie.

And you, had it not sold instantly upon offering by Royal Books, could have owned an archive of this grade-Z movie from Screen Classics, the Poverty Row studio that tramped the  boulevard of broken dreams, put the hobo in Hollywood, and found lead in them thar golden hills. It was helmed by Phil Tucker, the director who soon afterward brought Robot Monster to the silver screen, a movie that gives Plan 9 From Outer Space a serious run for the money as the Worst Movie of All Time, and, it is reported, inspired the director's attempted suicide.

Set of 51 3 x 5 in. stills, incl. receipt signed in red ink by Farrell: "Publicity pictures of me in Dance Hall Racket." Los Angeles: Screen Classics, 1953

In 1951, Lenny Bruce met his future wife, Honey Harlowe, while she was working as a stripper at a club in Baltimore. Bruce was determined to improve their show business prospects, engaging in schemes legit and not-so to further their dreams. In 1953, the couple moved to Los Angeles from New York.

Set of 12 8 x 10 in. stills. Los Angeles: Screen Classics, 1953

Upon arrival, they moved up the T&A ladder, finding work at The Cup and Saucer, later Strip City, and The Colony Club. 

The Colony Club was the classiest, best strip joint in L.A. and it was while working there that Lenny concocted the idea of a movie set in the world of burlesque, quoth the raven, "Dance Hall Racket."

The archive belonged to DHR star, Timothy Farrell (1922 - 1989). Farrell "worked as a bailiff in the Los Angeles Sheriff's Department while also working in the movies. One of his movies, Paris After Midnight,  was actually busted in a vice raid in the mid-50s, which caused him professional embarrassment. He went on to work 20 years as a L.A. Deputy Marshall and eventually was appointed County Marshall in 1971. He was convicted of felony charges after his appointment, however, for 'illegal use of Deputy Marshalls in political activities,' and was given a six month sentence, but received probation due to poor health. He was fired in 1975" (IMDB). 

In the same year he starred in Dance Hall Racket, Farrell appeared in Ed Wood Jr.'s adventures of a tranny, Glenn Or Glenda? But not before appearing in Racket Girls (gangsters n' female wrestlers, 1951), and, later, Ed Wood Jr.'s immortal Jail Bait (1954).

BRUCE, Lenny. How To Talk Dirty and Influence People. Chicago: Playboy Press, [1965]. Advice from the Dale Carnegie of comedy.

Lenny Bruce's attempt at prose was more successful. How To Talk Dirty  and Influence People, the autobiography written after he'd attained stardom as a "sick" comedian whose satire laid waste to hypocrisy and forever changed the world of stand-up comedy, remains highly readable.

BRUCE, Honey with Dana Benenson. Honey. The Life and Loves of Lenny's Shady Lady. Chicago: Playboy Press, 1976. Lenny's "shiksa-goddess" tells all.

Honey Harlowe, after Lenny's death, wrote "what is possibly the most shockingly intimate and most frankly erotic woman's story of even our liberated time" (jacket blurb). In comparison with today's even looser standards, it could have been written by Louisa May Alcott, Meg Comes Clean.

Of Dance Hall Racket, she wrote, "Lenny never made any real money writing, although he was paid $750 a week for rewriting the movie script The Kid From Outer Space [aka The Rocket Man]. None of the four movies he wrote [Dance Hall Racket, Dream Follies, The Rocket Man, and The Leather Jacket] got past the grade-B level. The most outrageous of his scripts was Dance Hall Racket. It was about a Italian gangster (Lenny) and his girl (me). The script was actually a rewrite and so corny it became funny. The best scene Lenny wrote for me was when I was be be presented to a big-time gangster as a welcome-home-from-prison present. I was dressed in a white bikini, high heels, and a white-fox stole, and upon cue I came crashing through a tremendous cake" (p. 222-223).

He who gets slapped. "This is the worst screenplay I've ever read!" From left.: Punky the Swedish Sailor; Honey Harlowe; Timothy Farrell; Lenny Bruce.

Punky the Swedish Sailor cleans up the pastry, then gets plastered.



View all fifty-three minutes of Dance Hall Racket, above.
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Archive images courtesy of Royal Books, with our thanks.

Book images from the author's collection.

Dance Hall Racket is an orphan the public domain.
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The Shocking Story Of The First Woman Executed By Electric Chair

February 22, 2012, 2:30 am

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by Stephen J. Gertz

She bristles with courage, she has poise, assurance, no end of intelligence... she loves like fire and she hates like T.N.T. ... More power and good luck to her, guilty or not. It would be a waste and a shame to burn up such a woman ... for dramatic, poetic purposes, alone, I say --- VIVE LA RUTH! (From the Preface by Jack Lait).

She wasn't the true first (who remembers Martha M. Place?) but when Ruth Brown Snyder (1895 - 1928), a Queens, NYC housewife, sat down in Sing-Sing's Ol' Sparky at 11PM, January 12, 1928, she became, in the public imagination, the first femme to fry. She was certainly one of the most celebrated occupants of The Chair during the Roaring 'Twenties.

Ruth Snyder, during her trial.

“'Ruthless Ruth,' as the press inevitably called her, was on the wrong side of 30 and married to a wet blanket on the wrong side of 40 from whom she couldn’t even get away during the day because they worked for the same boating magazine.

"The banal hell of the bourgeoisie.

"Ruth had a banal solution: commence affair with handsome, limp-willed corset salesman (also married) from New Jersey.

"Given a large enough metropolis with a large enough pool of adulterous data points, it must be statistically inexorable that a certain proportion will resolve the love triangle by throttling the cuckold with a wire" (Executed Today).

Snyder's execution led to the creation of one of the most iconic photographs of the 20th Century. Her final seconds were inelegantly caught on film by Tom Howard, reputedly a Chicago Tribune reporter, who clandestinely photographed the moment by use of a miniature camera strapped to his ankle. The next morning, the photograph blazoned across the front pages of the New York Daily News, and to this date it is the only photograph of a person being electrocuted in such Grand Guignol circumstances. Howard's camera now resides in the collections of the Smithsonian's National Museum of American History. 

Ruth Snyder now resides in the collections of Woodlawn Cemetery, Bronx, NY, Arbutus plot, Section 119, Lot 16528.

Mug Shot, Sing-Sing, 1927.

Ruth Snyder's Own True Story is a very rare little book. OCLC notes only two copies in institutional holdings worldwide but, then again, who outside the U.S. would care? Only one copy has recently come to market. It may be already gone by the time you read this.

According to Last Meals Before Execution, on her last day alive Ruth Snyder  told her figure to take a flying one; she wasn't going to need it anymore. To help the bad medicine go down, Ruth  primed herself with Chicken Parmesan with pasta Alfredo, ice cream, 2 milkshakes, and a 12-pack of grape soda. 

Followed by a lot of juice, 1220 volts, in three big, fatal gulps.

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SNYDER, Ruth Brown. BELASCO, David.  LAIT, Jack. MACK, Williard. SHIPMAN, Samuel - Contributors. Ruth Snyder's Own True Story. Published Complete for the First Time Anywhere. Written by Herself in the Death Cell. 25¢. [New York]: King Features Syndicate, (1927). First edition. Quarto (11-1/4" x 8-1/2 in.). Orange pictorial paper wrappers, printed in white with B&W drawing of an incarcerated Snyder to center and facsimile signature to lower third. 47, [1 (blank)] pp. Illustrated with 10 B&W images from photographs, including all the key players in the crime and trial. 

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Book image courtesy of Tavistock Books, currently offering this title, with our thanks.
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The Other Horror Story Set In Transylvania

February 23, 2012, 2:30 am

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by Stephen J. Gertz

From: Nachricht von den nach Bontzhida in Siebenbürgen gekommenen Zugheuschrecken.

"Listen to them, the cicadas of the night. What music they make."

On August 23, 1780, a dense cloud of locusts the size of Transylvania (the cloud, not the locusts) descended upon Dracula's homeland to suck the sap out of everything that grew upon the earth and utterly destroy all crops.

The populace went into a panic. Driving a stake through the heart of each and every one of the monstrously hungry insects was impractical - not enough toothpicks in Transylvania; spraying garlic juice as an insecticide was malodorous in the extreme and without marinara sauce, why bother?; and daylight didn't put a dent in their activity.

What to do? 

According to Johann Roskoschnik, who, 1782,  chronicled the very real terror, the most effective method to rid Transylvania of the black-veined, green-blooded, night-flying Gryllus migratorius, apparently, was for farmers to dig broad holes deep enough to prevent the bugs from leaping out. Groups of them (farmers, not locusts), armed with brooms, then encircled the soulless demon pests, drove them into the pits, and set the horde afire and on its way to Hell.

According to Horn & Schenkling's Index Litteraturae Entomologicae, this account was originally published in  Ungarische Magazin  2, (1782), pp. 389-399. I missed that issue. I suspect that you did, too.
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ROSKOSCHNIK, Johann. Nachricht von den nach Bontzhida in Siebenbürgen gekommenen Zugheuschrecken, ihrem Aufenthalte daselbst, und ihrer Ausrottung; nebst einigen die Naturgeschichte derselben betreffenden Bemerkungen. Pressburg: Anton Löwe, 1782. First separate edition. Octavo. 14, [2] pp. Folding engraved plate with grasshoppers. Blue paper wrappers.

Hagen II, p. 93; Horn & Schenkling 18487.

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Image courtesy of Asher Rare Books, with our thanks.

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Scarce Letters of Movie Pioneer Georges Méliès, Hero of Scorsese's "Hugo," Surface

February 24, 2012, 2:30 am

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by Stephen J. Gertz

[MÉLIÈs, Georges] BESSY, Maurice and Lo Duca. Georges Méliès: Mage et "Mes Mémoires" par Méliès. Paris: Prisma, 1945. First French Edition, never translated into English. One of 2000 numbered copies, this being No. 956. With Melies' business card from 1909 laid in.

Between 1928 and 1932, when pioneering film director, Georges Méliès, was running a toy shop in Montparnesse Station in Paris - the period in his life covered by Martin Scorsese's splendid homage to Méliès and movie magic, Hugo - Méliès wrote a series of  letters of enormous interest to film lovers and historians. The content of the letters is quite broad and uniformly fascinating throughout.

This trove has just come into the marketplace, offered by Royal Books in Baltimore. Surviving ephemeral material representing Méliès' work is excessively rare; letters in his hand are virtually non-existent. OCLC indicates that there is no institution with autograph material, and auction records show no appearance of any letters since 1975. Virtually all known surviving material is held by the Cinémathèque Française in Paris.

From: A Trip To The Moon - Earth Rise.

An archive consisting  of six extraordinary signed autograph letters, five in French and one in English, by Méliès, generally considered to be one of the inventors of narrative cinema,  it reveals a great deal about his little-discussed but profoundly important origins in the Robert-Houdin Theatre in Paris, as well as his work as a magician and ultimately a film director. 

Equally interesting in these letters are various revelations regarding his character, great love for artists, magicians, and all performers whose work came under the umbrella of "illusion." His spirit, so finely captured by Scorsese on film, is animated on these pages.

Méliès began his career in theater at the Theatre Robert-Houdin, doing extremely creative work in an area that could be described as an intersection of live theater, pantomime, magic, and vaudeville. After seeing an 1895 demonstration by the Lumiere Brothers, he became very interested in cinema, and betweem 1896 and 1914 made over 500 short films. 

His film work utilized many of the elements from his live performance as a basis for content, and the portion of his work that has survived reveals a storytelling style that revels in Jules Verne-esque fantastical adventure fiction. The films ranged from 1 to 40 minutes in length, and many were completely abstract, with his intense interest in the effect of "illusion" on an audience that ultimately led to him becoming the inventor of "special effects." Importantly, the "effects" he invented on celluloid were not just a component of his cinema, they were the essence of it.

Equally important, Méliès made the first cinematic foray into science fiction and horror, and was a pioneer in the making of fantastical adventure films. Le Manoir du diable (The House of the Devil,"1896) and Le Caverna maudite ("The Cave of the Unholy One," 1898) are generally considered to be the first horror films ever made. A print of the former was acquired upon its release by Thomas Edison, who duplicated and distributed it with great financial success in the United States. Though Edison paid no royalties to Méliès, as a result the director's name became well-known to film-goers all over the Western world.

Six years later, Méliès produced what is today his most famous short feature, Le voyage dans la lune (A Trip to the Moon, 1902), the first known science fiction film, and the first to depict space travel. The film was based very loosely on two popular novels of the time, by Jules Verne in From the Earth to the Moon, and The First Men in the Moon by H.G. Wells.

From: A Trip To The Moon - A Rocket In The Eye.

Méliès was forced into bankruptcy in 1913 by large French and American studios. Because the concept of film preservation was still nearly 20 years away, most of his films were ultimately melted down for boot heels during World War I or recycled to make new film.

The archive is divided into four  groups:

(a) A brief but extraordinary 1932 letter in English about his days as a filmmaker.

(b) A group of three letters from 1928 regarding his earliest days at Robert-Houdin Theatre, details regarding a series of short pieces he is writing about his life (for a magazine or newspaper), and a proposal to gather the pieces for publication in book form.

(c) A letter from 1929 regarding the proofs of caricatures that Méliès has drawn for the purpose of publication as postcards to be sold to fans of his work.

(d) A brief but significant letter from 1931 regarding the annual "magician's gala," mentioning several of the magicians who performed, a gathering of artists that was clearly at the heart of what preserved Méliès spirit during the years after his film company collapsed.

In the first letter, Melies writes candidly of his days as a filmmaker, and the collapse of his career: "You will find me every day, even Sundays, in the hall of Montparnasse station, from 10 o'clock A.M. to 10 P.M. I keep there a shop of toys and sweets, since I have unfortunately, lost 3 millions of francs during the war, which I had gained as a producer of motion pictures and pioneer of cinematography."

The next three letters represent the heart of the this archive, regarding Méliès' earliest days working as a magician in the Robert-Houdin Theatre. These letters deal in some detail with an ongoing memoir being written by Méliès, ending with a letter responding to a proposal for the memoirs to be expanded and published as a book.

From: A Trip To The Moon - Dream Sequence.

In the first letter, Méliès writes: "I think by now you must have received the first two articles... I   believe that information on the subject of the Robert-Houdin Theatre will interest your readers, so I won't hesitate to send more details... Today I constructed the exact floor plans of the stage and back stage from memory and I am enclosing them here. Your are right if you think that nothing that that happened in my little old theater has escaped my memory. With an average of 750 performances per year, that makes 27,000 performances! When I think about it, that is simply staggering."

He goes on to discuss the irony of his current situation: " [This is] written in great haste (and on my knees, above the market)...from my little store atelier where there is no space for me and I am crowded by, or should I say, drowned in merchandise. I, at 67, a merchant! I who was always an artist first and who always detested business? What is there to do!? Life has reversals like this, and the war has made me lose the result of 47 years of work [One must] resign oneself, and that is what I have done. That doesn't mean that I do not miss the good old days and I am never as happy as when I am together with colleagues, comedians, cinematographers, or magicians, when I am in my own element."

In another letter, Méliès refers to plans to produce an edition of his memoirs, which, though never published during his lifetime, is the probable foundation for the 1945 publication of Méliès' memoirs edited by Maurice Bessy. The letter goes on in great detail about all aspects of production, including how the linotype should be set up for the book, the importance of illustrations, etc.

The last letter, from 1932, is an enthusiastic review of Robert Evans' A Master of Modern Magic, a biography of Eugene Robert-Houdin (NY: Macoy 1932). The book is "very well written and as exact as possible concerning the dates," and that it "contains very few mistakes. It is certainly more near the truth than the book written against Robert-Houdin by Houdini, who seems to have been jealous of the posthumous reputation of our old master...[Evans] has evidently written this book in order to break this reputation."

Méliès  then expounds on the nature of his original trade, and the philosophy behind the illusion at the heart of cinema: "The conjurors (don't they?) work for the public, not for the professionals; if they have a success and seem extraordinary men to spectators, what do they require more? Nobody of us is really a 'sorcerer,' it is sufficient to look to be, and principally to know how to put our tricks, clever or not, in the maximum of value."

I had a chance to examine this precious archive at the recent 45th California International Antiquarian Book Fair.  It was no illusion. But it was definitely magic. Méliès was indeed the sorcerer of the Silent film era.

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Images courtesy of Royal Books, with our thanks. The Méliès biography, at top, is being offered separately from the archive of letters.

Stills from the colored version of A Trip To The Moon courtesy of Harvey Deneroff, with our thanks.

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Scarce Original E.H. Shepard "Winnie-the-Pooh" Drawing At Auction

February 27, 2012, 2:30 am

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by Stephen J. Gertz

A scarce, original ink and watercolor drawing by Ernest H. Shepard of  Winnie-the-Pooh and Piglet, the characters he brought to life in A.A. Milne's classic children's books, 1924-1928, has found its way to market. The drawing, signed and dated February 29, 1932, is a extraordinary example of Shepard illustrating Pooh characters outside the context of the Milne books.

It is being offered by Nate D. Sanders Auctions at their auction closing February 28, 2012.

The autograph letter is addressed to his agent, and reads:

"My dear Carter Brown

Many thanks for your letter. I think you have done splendidly. The view is shared by others (as you see) coloured.

Yours very sincerely

Ernest H. Shepard

Feb 29th/32"

As of this writing, the bid is $10,871. [Update: 2/28/2012, 5:08PM - bid is now at $23,000].

Ernest Howard Shepard (1879-1976) had been a successful illustrator since 1906 when he was introduced to Alan  A. Milne in 1923 by Punch staffer, E.V. Lucas; Shepard had  contributed to Punch during WWI and joined its staff in 1921.

Milne's initial reaction to Shepard's work was that it was not in a style he felt right to illustrate his work but nonetheless used him to illustrate his collection of poems, When We Were Very Young (1924). Pleased with Shepard's efforts, Milne insisted that Shepard illustrate Winnie-the-Pooh. Shepard based his conception of Pooh upon Growler, his son's stuffed bear.

Recognizing Shepard's enormous contribution to Winnie-the-Pooh's success, Milne assigned Shepard a percentage of his royalties. In what has become a legendary inscription, Milne wrote in Shepard's copy of Winnie-the-Pooh:

When I am gone,
Let Shepard decorate my tomb,
And put (if there is room)
Two pictures on the stone:
Piglet from page a hundred and eleven,
And Pooh and Piglet walking (157)…
And Peter, thinking that they are my own,
Will welcome me to Heaven.

The only known oil painting by Shepard of Pooh sold at auction for $285,000 in 2000.

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Images courtesy of Nate D. Sanders Auctions, with our thanks.

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When Ginsberg & Burroughs Met Samuel Beckett

February 28, 2012, 2:30 am

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by Stephen J. Gertz

"Vodka with Bill and lisping boyish wrinkled Samuel Beckett   - he sang Joyce lyrics he heard from Joyce's lips."

On September 26, 1976, Beat poet Allen Ginsberg, in Berlin to perform a reading of his work, wrote a postcard to his close friend/lover poet Peter Orlovsky.

Dear Peter -

Been here a week, went to zoo with Bill [William S. Burroughs], several afternoons in East Berlin learning Brecht style MUSIK from poet Wolf Biermann - Now sitting in Cafe Zillemarkt off big [?] cafe avenue...looks like cobblestone floored Cafe Figaro - shooting mouth off about politics - probably wrong - Vodka with Bill + lisping thin boyish wrinkled Samuel Beckett - he sang Joyce lyrics he heard from Joyce's lips. See you the 15th. Allen."

To hear Ginsberg tell it in that one throwaway line, the meeting with Beckett was rich and enchanting. Imagine Beckett reciting Joyce, recalled from a meeting of the two modern giants of literature.  Oh, to have been a fly on the wall in that room!

Burroughs' recollection of the get-together was somewhat at odds  with Allen Ginsberg's. It's as if Ginsberg and Burroughs were reporting from different planets.

 

As Burroughs remembered it:

"I recall a personal visit to Beckett. John Calder, my publisher and Beckett's, was the intermediary for a short, not more than a half and hour audience. This was in Berlin. Beckett was there directing one of his new plays. Allen Ginsberg, Susan Sontag and myself were there for a reading. Also present in the visiting party were Fred Jordan [an editor at Grove Press] and Professor Hoellerer, a professor of English Literature at Berlin University.

"Beckett was polite and articulate. It was, however, apparent to me at least tat he had not the slightest interest in any of us, nor the slightest desire ever to see any of us again. We had been warned to take our own liquor as he would proffer none so we had brought along a bottle of whiskey. Beckett accepted a small drink which he sipped throughout the visit. Asking the various participants first what Beckett said, and what the whole conversation was about, seems to elicit quite different responses. Nobody seems to remember at all clearly. It was as if we had entered a hiatus of disinterest. I recall that we did talk of my son's recent liver transplant and the rejection syndrome. I reminded Beckett of our last meeting in Maurice Girodias' restaurant. On this occasion we had argued about the cut-ups, and I had no wish to renew the argument. So it was just, "yes," "Maurice's restaurant." Allen, I believe, asked Beckett if he had ever given a reading of his work. Beckett said "no."

"There was some small talk about the apartment placed at his disposal by the academy: a sparsely furnished duplex overlooking the Tiergarten. I said the zoo was very good, one of the best, with nocturnal creatures in dioramas, like their natural habitat...Beckett nodded, as if willing to take my word for this. I think there was some discussion of Susan Sontag's cancer. I looked at my watch. Someone asked Allen or Fred for the time. We got up to go. Beckett shook hands politely" (Beckett and Proust, in The Adding Machine: Selected Essays [1986], p. 182).

Susan Sontag had her own take on the meeting with Beckett. Interviewed with Burroughs by Victor Bockris for With William Burroughs: A Report From the Bunker (1982) she remembered:

Sontag: It all started like this: we were staying in this picturesque hotel in Berlin and Allen Ginsberg said, "We're going to see Beckett, c'mon,'"and I said, "Oh, William [Burroughs] are you are going, I don't want to butt in," and he said, "No, c'mon, c'mon," and we went. We knocked on the door of this beautiful atelier with great double height ceilings, very white. This beautiful, very thin man who tilts forward when he stands answered the door. He was alone. Everything was very clean and bare and white. I actually had seen him the day before on the grounds of the theater of the Akademie Der Kunst. Beckett comes to Berlin because he knows his privacy will be respected. He received us in a very courtly way and we sat at a very big long table. He waited for us to talk. Allen was, as usual, very forthcoming and did a great deal of talking. He did manage to draw Beckett out asking him about Joyce. That was somehow deeply embarrassing to me. Then we talked about singing, and Beckett and Allen began to sing while I was getting more and more embarrassed.

Victor Bockris: Bill [William Burroughs] says Beckett made you feel as if you would be welcome to leave as soon as you could.

Sontag: He didn't actually throw us out.

William Burroughs: Oh, the hell he didn't! See, I have an entirely different slant on the whole thing. In the first place, John Calder said, "Bring along some liquor," which we did. I know that Beckett considers other people different from him and he doesn't really like to see them. He's got nothing particular against the being there, it's just that there are limits to how long he can stand being with people. So I figured that about twenty minutes would be enough. Someone brought up the fact that my son was due for transplants, and Beckett talked about the problem of rejection, about which he'd read an article. I don't remember this singing episode at all. You see Susan says it seemed long, it seemed to me extremely short. Soon after we got there, and the talk about transplant, everybody looked at their watch, and it was very obviously time to go. We'd only brought along a pint and it had disappeared by that time.

Sontag: Allen said, "What was it like to be with Joyce? I understand Joyce had a beautiful voice, and that he liked to sing." Allen did some kind of "OM" and Beckett said, "Yes, indeed he had a beautiful voice," and I kept thinking what a beautiful voice he had. I had seen Beckett before in a café in Paris, but I had never heard him speak and I was struck by the Irish accent. After more than half a century in France he has a very pure speech which is unmarked by living abroad. I know hardly anybody who's younger than Beckett, who has spent a great deal of time abroad who hasn't in some way adjusted his or her speech to living abroad. There's always a kind of deliberateness or an accommodation to the fact that even when you speak your own language you're speaking to people whose first language it's not and Beckett didn't seem in any way like someone who has lived most of his life in a country that was not the country of his original speech. He has a beautiful Irish musical voice. I don't remember that he made us feel we had to go, but I think we all felt we couldn't stay very long.

Bockris: Did you feel the psychic push? That Beckett had "placed" you outside the room?

Burroughs: Everybody knew that they weren't supposed to stay very long. I think it was ten minutes after six that we got out of there. [...] He gave me one of the greatest compliment that I ever heard. Someone asked him, "What do you think of Burroughs?" and he said - grudgingly - "Well, he's a writer."

Sontag: High praise indeed.

Burroughs: I esteemed it very highly. Someone who really knows about writing, or say about medicine says, "Well, he's a doctor. He gets in the operating room and he knows what he's doing."

Sontag: But at the same time you thought he was hostile to some of your procedures?

Burroughs: Yes, he was, and we talked about that very briefly when we first came in during the Berlin visit. He remembered perfectly the occasion.

Sontag: Do you think he reads much?

Burroughs: I would doubt it. Beckett is someone who needs no input as such. To me it's a very relaxed feeling to be around someone who doesn't need me for anything and wouldn't care if  died right there the next minute. Most people have to get themselves needed or noticed. I don't have that feeling at all. But there's no point in being there, because he had no desire or need to see people.

Bockris: How did you feel when you left that meeting?

Sontag: I was very glad I had seen him. I was more interested just to see what he looks like, if he was as good-looking as he is in photos.

Burroughs: He looked very well and in very good shape. Beckett is about seventy-five. He's very thin and his face looks quite youthful. It's really almost an Irish streetboy face. We got up and left, the visit had been, as I say, very cordial, decorous...

Sontag: More decorous than cordial I would say. It was a weightless experience, because it's true, nothing happened.

Burroughs: Nothing happened at all.

Rarely has nothing been so fascinating and earned its much ado.

This little gem of a postcard is being offered by Brian Cassidy, Bookseller.

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Postcard image courtesy of Brian Cassidy, Bookseller, with our thanks.
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