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| A Shazam! book. |
Peculiar might be the most relevant adjective to qualify the items of the sale that took place in Drouot on December the 19th. Entitled Fantaisies & Curiosités autour du livre, it gathered 121 items more or less linked to books and the art of printing - for the magic book to the... toilets book.
The Curiosity Sale,
Drouot, December 19, 2012
Peculiar might be the most relevant adjective to qualify the items of the sale that took place in Drouot on December the 19th. Set up by the prestigious auction house Pierre Bergé & Associés and entitled Fantaisies & Curiosités autour du livre (fantasies and curiosities around books), it gathered 121 items more or less linked to books, and the art of printing. The expert for the sale, Benoît Forgeot, made it clear: “We’re at the heart of bibliophilism. All these items, from the decks of cards from the 19th century to the portable globes, are closely linked to the world of books.”
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| This binding ain't no s…t! |
Mr. Chamonal has come across a lot of things, as far as bibliophilism is concerned. As a matter of fact, he had already seen the totality of the items of this sale. “I put this catalogue together myself,” he said. It took me more than ten years to collect all these objects.” It only took a few hours for Jean-Paul Morin, a well-known collector, to buy them at once a few years ago. “When I printed the catalogue,” explained Mr. Chamonal, “Mr. Morin called me to let me know he wanted to buy every item featured in it.” Looks like Mr Morin got tired of his toys, after all—he recently decided to sell them back. Bibliophilism being a small world, Mr. Chamonal decided to buy back a few of them. “Maybe one or two”, he smiled. It is always interesting to pay attention to the books Mr. Chamonal or any other great bookseller observes before a sale. The last time I had seen him looking at what seemed to be a rather ordinary book from a catalogue, it sold for several thousands euros above the appraisal.
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| One of a kind. |
This very day, he looked at my favorite item of the sale, a humble little book in its original wrappers, almost partly disbound. It is an in-16 volume of 72 pages only, printed in 1812 in Paris and baptized by Mr. Forgeot in the
—as sumptuous as usual—catalogue of Pierre Bergé & Associés: An Anthology of Poetry for Confectioners. Pages are printed on first sides only, as they were supposed to be cut off. Each contains two or three short poems that, as the publisher wrote on the back of the title page, shall replace this year the sayings that usually come with candies. The authors therein represented include Voltaire, Mlle Deshoulières and a few who hardly fit a child’s reading if you ask me, like Bussy-Rabutin or Mr. de Montreuil. The latter, for example, looks scornfully at an old lady who wants to be called Mademoiselle: No matter how old it gets, sniggers the poet, the Pont-Neuf (New Bridge, the oldest bridge of Paris, ndr) will always be called the Pont-Neuf. This little book (still a giant when compared to item # 83, a lovely edition of 30 mm x 20 mm, of... Tom Thumb!) has fortunately escaped the confectioner’s pair of scissors, wrote Mr. Forgeot in the catalogue. And it sure looks sweet. It was sold for 900 euros.
Another book was pointed out by Mr. Chamonal as of an extreme rarity: Horloge Perpétuelle... by Hervier (Lyon, 1748). A small in-12 volume, very thin, a solar calendar for the year 1748—a physician book (pic 2). “The front cover itself will urge you to buy it,” claimed the Mercure de France at the time it came out. The front cover? “This book is unique,” said Mr. Chamonal. Indeed, not only are covers very rare at the time, but this one is what we call an instrumental-binding. In the catalogue, the expert explains: “The plates are an instrument of calculation which use is explained inside the book itself.” The plates have been glued on regular end-papers—simple. “A 18th century book with an instrumental-binding is almost nowhere to be found," said Mr. Chamonal. "The National Library of France (NLF) has one copy, I guess.” As a matter of fact, the NLF used its right of pre-emption for this item after it had reached the price of 5,500 euros (before the commission).
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| Embroidered plates. |
A Masterpiece
Mr. Chamonal called Mr Forgeot: “Let’s show him the Missale Romanum.” A few seconds later, the expert dropped a heavy and luxurious book case on the table, taking a huge in-folio volume from it. Bound in full blue morocco, this 1781 missal is one of a kind (pic 3). “Please, notice the sharpness of the gildings on the back," said Mr. Forgeot, "and the fleur-de-lis, directly embroidered on the leather of the boards, which is quite unusual!” A sleeping iron sheep, laid on a cross and surrounded by golden rays also graces the first board—the result might appear somehow overloaded. “Well, it was bound during the Restoration, said Mr. Chamonal, which is not known as the best period for French Arts. Nevertheless, this book is definitely a masterpiece of this period. Take a look inside.” This religious book is special, it was done for the Duke of Bordeaux, later known as Henri V. He was from the Bourbon family and could have been King of France had not history decided otherwise.An extraordinary man—or considered as such by some—, deserved an extraordinary book. The regular black and white engravings of the original edition have been here covered by very special ones. “Look at the shimmering play of light on the plates, they have been printed on silk, then partly painted with oil painting. These incredible colors on the characters? They come from the fact that these engravings are... embroidered!” Both men looked at each other in a maze, as if hardly believing it.
“There is another book of the same period that features exactly the same kind of engravings. It was made for the Duchess of Berry, the mother of the Duke of Bordeaux,” says Mr. Forgeot. Mr. Chamonal shook his head in front of the glittering pages: “Sometimes, not too often, you come across one embroidered plate in a book. But I had never seen such a thing before. This is the most expensive book of the sale, of course—but beyond that, this really is the book of the sale.” The author of this incredibly delicate work has remained unknown, though credited in the copy of the Duchess as one Miss Pierre. The catalogue of the Duchess’ library reads: “The embroiderings render the grace and the naive expression of the drawings as successfully as the most expert brush.” Benoît Forgeot wanted to attract my attention to a particular plate, showing the King putting down his crown at the foot of the Cross. “This is the Duke of Bordeaux," he said. "Of course, he was just a child at the time, so this is the projection of him as a King. This book is a book of dedication, to God of course, as it is a missal, but also to the Duke.” Mr. Chamonal was impressed: “The amount of work this book required is incredible. Overloaded? Well, a true masterpiece of the period, no matter what.” It went for 60,000 euros, the lower appraisal.
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| Pick a number! |
Shazam books !
Benoît Forgeot then showed me a copy of the famous Livre Magique (or Magic Book), in its original boards, with no title page but featuring several series of engravings and some intriguing thumb indexes on external margins (pic 4). The plates, hand-coloured at the time (18th century) are lovely, indeed but... Mr. Forgeot winked at me: “Depending on how you manipulate it, he said, this book tells different stories. According to the thumb index you choose, you open a book with empty pages! Or with all pages featuring a raven or a woman holding an umbrella, etc. It is a magic book!” According to our expert, these books were very fashionable in America. Estimated at 2,000 / 3,000 euros, it went for 5,600 euros, not such a big price, regretted Mr. Forgeot.
“I love books with a story," continued the expert while exhibiting one of the most curious books I’ve ever seen. "Take this one, for instance. Isn’t it weird?” Indeed. What a... a book? Yes. A very, very strong in-4° volume bound in full contemporary leather, with some 2000 pages (pic 5). On each one, a hand-written Roman number and... and that’s it. The numbers, not so steadily drawn, occupy the middles of the virgin pages. “Did you notice the inscriptions on the end-page?” asked Mr. Forgeot. Yes, I had. It reads: Searched and verified, 1745—written several times and signed. “This is the mark of the police," said the expert, "who certainly checked the book to make sure no one was cheating on people with it. Thus we can assume that it was used by some pedlar. People would probably pick up a number, betting money on it, then the book owner would open it, just like a lottery. Look at the title given to the book: Divertissement de princes et seigneurs de la cour française (Entertainment of princes and lords of the French court). It is so ironic, full of popular wittiness—you even have some false royal coat of arms on the boards! This book is full of life.” It was sold for 6,500 euros.
The universe of old books is full of mysteries, prophecies and alchemists’ boiling bottles. The art of disguise is thus very appreciated amongst bibliophilists. The sale offered some classical book boxes, of course—but also some less expected tricky books. Once upon a time a Russian publisher put out an edition of the Tales of Grimm. He enclosed half a dozen of in-4° engravings. Nothing special... until the magic operates. Put the meanest mother-in-law ever in front of a candlelight and the portrait of Snow White suddenly appears in the magic mirror, Ô mirror!, in front of her. As the Prince Charming rides through the wilderness of the forest, the castle of Sleeping Beauty materializes in the background. Etc, etc. “These six plates date from 1882. They probably painted the full scene before covering the hidden parts with a thin layer of painting,” said Benoît Forgeot. It was one of the nice surprises of the sale, as it went for 2,500 euros while estimated between 800 and 1,200 euros.
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| Fore-edge paintings. |
Fore-edge painting was a well-known way to hide things in a book. “A machine would wring the pages in a certain way," explained Mr. Chamonal, "before the artist painted the edge of the book. Then, they gilded the edge and let the pages come back to their original place. At the end of the day, when you look at it casually, you can not see anything. But when you twist the pages to put them in the right position... here you go!” Lord! This delightful edition of The Adventures of Gil Blas (London, 1836—pic 6), was in fact silently sheltering several erotic drawings. A naked musician with his instrument in the open, playing music for a light muse; another one, lying on a sofa, introducing his art to a young girl? “Well," smiled Mr. Forgeot. "Edge-paintings were quite common in England. But it is extremely rare to find some erotic scenes.” These exploits moderately impressed the potential buyers, as the copy went for 1,500 euros; a pretty good deal... for the buyer, said Mr. Forgeot.
I had come under disguise too, as I have always been very skeptical about bibliophilism curiosities. Books with no text just hardly make sense to me—apart a non-written book by Laurence Sterne, maybe? Nevertheless, I’ve seen more rarities in a couple of hours than I had seen in my entire life: chimney screens featuring some engravings, animated images, puzzles... even a paper theatre. And I must confess to my confusion that I’ve been amused, surprised and sometimes touched by these peculiar testimonies of what books, or printing, have inspired men over the centuries. I was not the only one, as the sale brought back 280,000 euros for a total estimation of 200,000 euros. Nevertheless, I was not contaminated enough to buy anything, thank God. But every time I pass by the bakery at the end of my street, I think of the—alas!—bygone days when kids had to read some rude poems by Mr. de Montreuil before eating candies. And I do remember this small in-16 volume, wishing I could taste this literary honey straight from the honeypot.
© Thibault Ehrengardt
Photographs © Stéphane Briolant et Art Digital Studio / Courtesy of Pierre Bergé & Associés.
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