The B ook C ollector

/

by Charles Nodier

CAM BRIDGE A AC HU ETT , M SS S S

1 95 1

Foreword

essa No dier 1 7 80- 1 844 The accompanying y by Charles , , e i Librarian of the Ars nal in Paris , bibliographer, bibl ophile , and a literary leader of the Romantic Movement, originally “ ’ a L Amateur appe red in French under the title des Livres , ‘ L i i t u —meme 1 1 es Fran a s Pe n s ar E x s 84 . in g p , Paris , , Vol III , 2 - 0 1 9 . pp It seemed to me excellent, and so agreeably of its period, that I asked my friend Barbara Sessions to translate S he as it, which has now done , far as I know, for the first time . Together we have edited the few parts ! hich seemed slightly pedantic , and have added some notes which will

i . expla n the more abstruse literary, or bibliophilic , allusions N dier notwith . o Book collectors , M to the contrary standing , are Still very much alive , and can again be found even in the harried ranks of capitalists . But the learned French librarian was nearer right about his own pamphlets :

They have indeed faded from memory . Now I hope this one of them may survive for a few more years, despite the ephemeral form in which you receive it .

August 1 9 5 1 PHIL I P HOFER ’ Un Bouquiniste dans l Ivresse

’ ’ un i e i d achéter ci t éc Rien n égal e ma jo e j v ens pour nquan e us 1 780! tt iti est xc i t Horac e imprimé 5 Amsterdam en Ce e ed on e ess vemen t c i é t ! précieuse : d cbaque pag e elle es r bl e de fau es H é D i ( 1 844) Lithograph by onor aum er, The B ook Collector

uicon ue est lou a isse en lou ! q p g p , ’ ! u rt i u C est le pl s ce a n de beauco p .

HOU LD S like to warn you , from the outset, that this I essay will be as lively as a speech by Mathurin Cordier 1 or 2 D es autere ! and a chapter of p God, Nature , the Academy have enclosed my imagination within these narrow bound

o to . aries , which it is no l nger able overstep At least you can always refrain from reading me , and in that are more tu for nate than I who , following the dictates of a too exigent publisher, have no choice but to write . The draw ings were made , the plates were ready; and the only thing needed to complete the i ssue was a long and unprofitable t ! u d . ! 1 o text ell, then here is But y will be isappointed if you expect to find in it one of those clever portraits to o which your favorite authors have accustomed y u . If what you are seeking is an original and telling sketch of the

’ ’ bou uzmSte - - q , the second hand book addict, then you need

. e go no further Pause h re , and, following the modest advice ! of certain almanacs : See illustration on opposite page . The collector of books is a type which we would do well to define , since everything points to his disappearance in the very near future . The printed book has existed at the most for some four hundred years , yet books are already accumulating in some countries in a manner that threatens

the very equilibrium of the globe . Civilization has reached

its . the most unexpected of ages , the age of paper Now that e everyone writ s books , no one Shows any particular eager

to . ness buy them Besides, our young authors are well on

{ 7 1 the way to building up whole libraries for themselves out

of their own works . They need only be left to their own

devices . If we were to subdivide the species book collector into

- its various classes , the top most rank in the whole subtle

p

C 0 91 . S and capricious family should without doubt be given to the bibliophile . The bibliophile is a man endowed with a certain amount

of intelligence and taste , who derives pleasure from works

. his of genius, imagination, and feeling He enjoys mute

[ 8 ] — conversations with great minds unilateral conversations

e which can be begun at will , dropped without discourt sy ,

and resumed without insistence ; and , from this love of the absent author whose words have been made known to him in through the device of writ g, he comes insensibly to love the material symbol in which those words are clothed . His feeling for the book is like the love of one friend for ’ another s portrait, or of the lover for the portrait of his mistress ; and, like the lover , he wants the loved object to look its best . He would not be happy to leave the precious volume that has so enthralled him clad in the drab 1t i s i n habiliments of poverty , when his power to clothe His it luxuriously in watered silk and morocco . library, like the gown of a favorite , is resplendent with gold lace ; his and books, by their outward look alone,are worthy — as Virgil would have said of the regard of consuls .

Alexander was a bibliophile . ! hen victory put into his ff D was hands the rich co ers of arius , he able to fill them with the rarest treasures of Persia . The works of

Homer were among the spoils . k Bibliophiles today are vanishing along with ings . In is the past, the kings themselves were bibliophiles and it to their enlightened munificen ce that we owe the copy ing of so many manuscripts of inestimable value . Alcuin 3 Gruthu se Gru thu se was the y of Charlemagne , just as y was the Alcuin of the Dukes of Burgundy . The salamanders of Francois Ier will become as widely known through his beautiful books as through his architectural monuments . His son , Henri II , entrusted the secret of his love cipher to the magnificent bindings in his library, just as he did to the hi sumptuous decoration of s palaces . The volumes once

[ 9 ] ’ 4 owned by Anne d Autriche still delight the connoisseur by

their chaste and noble elegance . Great lords and statesmen echoed the taste of their sover ei ns g , and there were as many rich libraries as there were

families with shields and escutcheons . Almost down to our ’ d Urfé own day, the houses of Guise , , de Thou , Richelieu ,

Molé S é uier Lamoi Mazarin, Bignon , , Pasquier, g , Colbert, g ’ ’ d EstréeS d Aumont e non, , , de la Valli re , rivalled one another in their treasures of learned and serviceable books . I have

named but a few of these noble bibliophiles , quite at ran

dom , in order to spare myself the tedious task of naming tu them all . To compile fu re additions to this list will be a less embarrassing task to those who come after us ! Even more remarkable finance itself once showed a has ! ! love for books . How it since changed ing Francois ’ Ier s treasurer, Grolier, alone , did more for the progress of typography and binding than will ever be accomplished by r all our paltry medals and our grudging litera y budgets . A 5 Préfon d mere dealer in wood, M . Girardot de , bolstered his slightly insecure claim to nobility by using his money im in the same worthy fashion, thus earning at least the

mortality of the bibliographies and catalogues . Our bankers

of today Show no signs of envying him . o Alas , the bibliophile is no longer t be found in the upper classes of our p rog ressive society (I ask your pardon for

the adjective , but it will have to stand , by your leave , along with the verb to prog ress ) ; the bibliophile of the present artl st day is the scholar, the man of letters , the , the small t u independent proprietor or the man of moderate for ne , who finds in dealing with books some relief from the bore

dom and insipidity of dealing with other men , and who is , t to some extent, consoled for the deceptive na ure of the

[ 1 0 ] f other a fections by a taste which , though perhaps misplaced, n is at least i nocent . But such a man will never amass impor

tant collections ; it is , alas , the exception if his acquisitions are Still there to meet his dying gaze or to be left as a

modest legacy to his children . I know one bibliophile of this sort (and could tell you his name if I chose) who has Spent fifty years of his hardworking life in building up a

library, and in selling his library in order to live . There is

one a bibliophile for you , and I warn you that he is of the last of the species . Today, it is love of money that prevails ; ff books no longer o er the slightest interest .

The opposite of the bibliophile is the bibliophobe . Our

great gentlemen of the political and banking worlds , our

great statesmen , our great men of letters , are for the most l h be part bib iop o s . For this imposing aristocracy which our the happy advances in civilization have brought to fore , education and human enlightenment in general date at the most from Voltaire . In their eyes , Voltaire is a myth which sums up the discovery of letters by Trismegistus and the invention of printing by Gutenberg . Since everything is to

‘ be found in Voltaire , the bibliophobe would have no more hesitation than Omar in burning the library of Alexandria . Not that the bibliophobe reads Voltaire ! He takes pains not to read him ; but he is grateful to have Voltaire to turn to as a specious pretext for his disdain for books . For the “ ! bibliophobe , anything that is no longer current is already waste paper ; he lets nothing accumulate on his neglected shelves but moistening sheets and spotting pages until such time as he unloads the whole mass of damp rags , sterile tribute from some famished muse or other , into

- the hands of the passing rubbish collector, who pays less

for them than their value by weight . The bibliophobe , in

[ 1 1 ] O ther words, accepts the homage of a book and then sells

it . It goes without saying that he does not read it , and never

pays for it .

Ab ni out ten years ago a foreigner, a man of ge us , was overtaken in a Paris café where he had just finished lunch ing by one of those absurd predicaments in whi ch the pro foun dl m y absorbed thinker all too often finds hi self . He had forgotten his purse , and was helplessly searching his portfolio for a pound note which might accidentally e have strayed ther , when his eyes fell, among his papers , on il the address of a certain m lionaire who lived nearby . He nouveau ricbe wrote a card to this respected , requesting an ’ hour s loan of twenty francs , dispatched a waiter with his i 1nterval note , and after a certa n received as his only reply 6 a n o as in! exible as that of Richelieu to Maynard ! Pr

den tiall hi s y , a friend appeared and helped him out of dif l fi cu t . U y p to this point, the story is in no way out of the t ordinary, and hardly merits being old but it is not yet

finished . The man of genius attained fame (something which does occasionally happen to genius) and then died

(something which happens sooner or later to everyone) . The fame of his works penetrated even the halls of the

Bank, and the price paid for his autographs , though not

quoted on the Bourse , made something of a sensation in the e sales . I myself saw this noble app al to French urbanity 1 50 bring francs at an auction sale where our bibliophobe,

the man of wealth , had entered it in the hope of catching ’ some collector s fancy, and I have no doubt that this small capital has by now been tripled in hands so discreet and

knowing . All of which goes to show that a favor withheld is no more lost than one that is granted !

There is one type of bibliophobe , however , whom I can

£ 1 2 ] pardon for his brutish antipathy toward books . This is the good, sensible man of little cultivation , who feels a horror for books because of the ways in which they are misused and the harm whi ch they do . Such was the attitude of my old companion in Commandeur de Valais , t who said to me , gently urning in his hand the sole volume ! “ that remained of my library (it was, alas , a Plato Away ! with it, in the name of God It is rascals like this who pre ! ! pared the Revolution . “For my part, he added , twisting “ somewhat coquettishly his gray moustache , Heaven can ! witness that I have never read a sin gle one of them ! m i The distinguishing arks of the biblioph le are the taste , the delicate and resourceful tact, which he applies to every thing , and which contribute an inexpressible charm to life . One might even be so bold as to warrant that the bibliophile e is to all intents and purposes a happy man, or at l ast that he knows how happiness can be achieved . That good and 7 - U learned book lover, rbain Chevreau , has given us a mar velous description of this kind of happiness , as he himself ! ou wi experienced it . will agree th me , if you will listen to “ his words for a moment instead of to mine : I never know ! boredom , he writes , in my solitude , where I am sur rounded by a large and well chosen library . Speaking in general terms, all the Greek and Latin authors are to be

: found there , whatever their profession orators , poets , soph

1sts l , rhetoricians , phi osophers, historians , geographers,

chronologists , the Church Fathers , the theologians , and the

. o councils Antiquarian writings are there too , and all s rts

of curious tales ; many Italians , a few Spaniards , and modern authors of established reputation . I have paintings and prints ; ! outside , a garden full of owers and fruit trees ; and , in one

- of the rooms , a group of house musicians who , by their chir in s warblings and p g , never fail to wake me in the morn ing and to entertain me at my meals . The house is n ew and

- well built , the air is wholesome , and to make sure that I do ! my duty there are three churches just outside my doors .

U o f If rbain Chevreau had lived in the time Sulla, I won der whether the Roman Senate would still have dared to proclaim Sulla the happiest man on earth ; yet, on second thought, I am inclined to think that it would for in all probability the Senate would never have known that a

U ! ou person like rbain Chevreau existed . will have noted , in fact, that this worthy man the object and model of my favorite studies and the delight of my happiest hours of raesidium et dulce decus meurrz has reading, p , in the charming picture he has given us of his so enviable exist ence , either forgotten to mention, or himself failed to d his realize , the rarest and most precious ingre ient of hap hevre u as ha becaus he k pin ess . C a w ppy e new how to be satis ed with what he had and to do without ame and fi , f

lor so g y . He was completely forgotten in his own time that, although he was a superb scholar, he was never made ! a member of the Academy Still , envy and hatred passed him by, just as did acclaim , leaving him to die among his ! - books and his owers in the eighty eighth year of his age . May the earth rest lightly on this most lovable and erudite of bibliophiles according to the now consecrated words on his tomb . But what has become of his books those books so well U chosen by rbain Chevreau and so well kept, of which there has been no mention in any recent catalogue ? Here is ress1n 1ns1stent a question of vital importance , p g , ; a question which will be of great concern to society once society has dropped its absorption in the absurd nonsense of humani

[ 14 1 tarian philosophy and bad politics with which it is now in fatuated!

The bibliophile knows how to select books ; the biblio ni s ma ac hoards and ama ses them . The bibliophile puts a sliél f book in its right place on the , after having explored it with all the resources of sense and imagination ; the biblio maniac stacks his books in piles without ever looking at them . The bibliophile appreciates the book; the biblio maniac weighs or measures it . The bibliophile works with a

- magnifying glass, the bibliomaniac with a measuring stick . Some who are known to me compute the growth of their

r e . libraries in squa e metr s The harmless, deliciously enjoy

of l n able fever the bibliophile becomes , the bibliomaniac , an acute malady bordering on delirium . Once it has reached that fatal stage of paroxysm it loses all contact with the in

' l c not know tel igen e and resembles any other mania . I do h so whether or not the p renologists , who have discovered ’ in many absurdities , have as yet localized the collector s stin ct developed to such a high degree in some poor devils of my acquaintance within the box of bone which houses our poor brain . Long ago in my youth I knew a man who collected corks of historic or anecdotal interest , and kept them arranged in orderly rows in his immense garret, each with its instructive label indicating on what more or less solemn occasion it had been originally drawn from the “ ham : . bottle . One label, for instance , read M Le Maire , C

a ne mousseux : p g of first quality Birth of His Majesty, the ! ! ing of Rome . The skull of the bibliomaniac must have approximately the same protuberances . Only a Step separates the sublime from the ridiculous ;

arise ni . only a , the bibliophile from the biblioma ac The one often turns into the other through mental deterioration or

[ 1 5 1 increase of fortune two grave af! ictions to which the best

of men are subject, though the first is far more common 8 than the second . My dear and honored master, M . Boulard, t was once a scrupulous and fas idious bibliophile , before he amassed in his Six-story house volumes of every ! I possible format, piled like the stones in Cyclopean walls remember that I was going about with him one day among these insecure obelisks (which had not been Stabilized by t u our modern architec ral science) , when I chanced to ask with some curiosity after a certain item a unique copy him which I had let go to in a celebrated sale . M . Boulard r looked at me fixedly, with that g acious and humorous air

- of good fellowship which was characteristic of him , and , rapping with his gold- headed cane on one of the huge stacks rudis in di esta ue moles hir ( g q ) , then on a second and t d , said, ’ ! It s e there or there or there . I Shudd red to think that the unfortunate booklet might perhaps have disappeared for all time beneath folios ; ‘ but my concern did not make me forget my own safety . The gigantic Stacks, their uncertain equilibrium shaken by the tappings of M . Bou ’ lard s cane , were swaying threateningly on their bases , the summits vibrating like the pinnacles of a Gothic cathedral D at the sound of the bells or the impact of a storm . ragging

! ed before iOssa M . Boulard with me , I could collapse upon E n Pelion . ven today, when I thi k how near I came to receiving the whole series of the Bollandist9 publications on my head from a height of twenty feet, I cannot recall the

danger I was in without pious horror . It would be an abuse of the word to apply the name “library! to menacing mountains of books which have to be attacked with a miner ’ s pick and held in place by stanchions ! The bibliophile ought not to be confused with the hou 16 l uiniste - - q , the second hand book addict, of whom I Shall now

' sa is have something to y, although the bibliophile by no means too proud to visit the second-hand book-stalls from m h time to ti e . He knows that more than one pearl as been s cast before wine , and more than one literary treasure found

u . U t in v lgar wrappings nfor unately, luck of this sort is ex tremel As y rare . for the bibliomaniac , he never looks over - so second hand books , since to do would again introduce ni the element of choice . The biblioma ac cannot choose ; he buys The true second- hand-book addict is usually an old man n n e livi g on his small i d pendent income , a retired professor, has o or a man of letters who outlived his v gue , but who still keeps his taste for books without having managed to retain enough money to buy them . It is this last type who is rara avis - d o constantly in search of that , the second han b ok of e great value , which chance may capriciously hav hidden away in some dusty old shop like an unmounted diamond c a which the ommon eye would take for a piece of gl ss , and only the knowing gaze of the lapidary recogniz es for what e Imitation o hrist it is . Hav you heard of that copy of the f C for which Rousseau asked his friend Monsieur Dupeyrou in 1 7 65 a n his , that he nnotated and i scribed with own name , and one page of which holds the impression of a dried ! i myrtle the original, authentic ower wh ch Rousseau plucked that same year under the thickets of the Charm n s ettes? M . de Latour is the ow er of thi jewel of modest mien which is worth more than its weight in gold; it cost z ! 7 5 . him centimes There is a pri e for you Still , I am not sure that I would not be equally glad to own the volume of ’ ‘ ’ 1 0 Theag enes et Cariclée which Racine laughingly turned “ over to his professor with the words : ! ou can burn that; I

[ 1 7 ] know it by heart . If that pretty little book is now no uais its t u longer on the q , with elegant signa re and the Greek notes in miniature characters which would identify it so among a thousand others , I can guarantee that it once sa j ourn ed there . And what would you y to a copy of the ’ f Pedant oue original edition o the j of Cyrano , in which

the two famous scenes are enclosed in large brackets , with “ this brief note by Moliere jotted in the margin : This be ! ? longs to me Such are the joys , and for the most part, it he s l must confes ed, the marvelous i lusions of the second 1 2 o so hand bo k . The learned M . Barbier, who published many excellent notes on the subject of anonymous writings

[ 1 8 1 standing nor prospects for the future . He was occasionally

- a known to make his way up from a modest Side w lk stall , or a chilly push- cart to the dignity of a real shop measuring ix s . all of meters square A case in point was that of Passard , in du recollections of whom may still l ger in the Rue Coq .

- And who could forget Passard, with his close cropped hair, - hi s ill- e his Short trumpet shaped queue , and match d eyes wn the large eye ta y and prominent, the small eye blue and deep-set which a whim of Nature had given him to bring his physical appearance into line with the eccentric origi nalit ? ! y of his character hen Passard, the right corner of in ni his mouth raised a slight sardo c twitch, was in the mood for talking ; when his little blue eye began to sparkle with a malicious gleam which never appeared in the large , lifeless eye ; then you might expect to see unr olled before you the whole chronicle of literary and political scandal of forty r his eventful years . Passa d , who had once peddled way from the Passage des Capucines to the Louvre and from the

- Louvre to the Institut, his portable book shelf under his his arm , had seen, known, and despised everything from u ui iste ’ exalted station as bo q n . I have cited this obscure book-seller whom no biographer ll C wi ever celebrate Passard , the Brutus , the assius , the

- u uinist s . last of the bo q e . Now I move on The present day - e uais keeper of a book stall on the bridg s , the q , the boule vards who poor, anomalous , battered creature , picks up only half a living from his unwanted stock is a mere bou uiniste bou uiniste is is shadow of the q ; for the q dead . It s a great ocial catastrophe , his disappearance , but one of the inevitable consequences of progress . A harmless and inno b - cent y product of the superabundance of good literature,

[ 20 ] its he could not, in the nature of things , survive decline . In that age of ignorance from which we have now had the t good for une to emerge , the publisher was , in general, a man capable of appreciating the books he published ; he e printed them on good solid pap r,supple and resonant, and , ffi when they were su ciently important, had them bound in

- - sound moisture proof leather, well glued and stoutly sewn . If by chance the volume found its way to the second-hand - i n - s ts . ! e book stall, that did not pell rui h ther of Sheep Skin, e in calf, or parchment, the binding blanched and hard ned sun s and s e e s the ; moistened, tretched, oft n d by pas ing showers still afforded lasting protection to the visions of th f h the philosopher or e dreams o t e poet . The progressive n s the his books publisher of today k ow that fame of , after a s the brief b ptism of advertising, will vani h in three days

’ ui n along with the fe lleton . He puts a yellow or gree paper his - jacket over ink spotted pages, and abandons the whole

to . absorbent rag the mercy of the elements A month later, ’ is - the wretched volume lying on the stall keeper s Shelves , a n prey to a brisk morning rain . It dri ks in the moisture , loses its shape , becomes mottled here and there with brown Spots , gradually reverting to the pulp from which it came ; with little more preparation it is ready to be stamped into card

- our board . Such is the life cycle of the book in progressive times! bou uiniste e a s n his The q of oth r d y , presidi g over noble e has no and venerabl volumes , thing in common with the pitiable vendor of damp paper who offers for sale the mil dewed rags which are the remains of the new books . The bou uiniste as q , I tell you , is no more and for the bro his bou uins chures which have replaced q , they will have

[ 2 1 ] faded from memory in twenty years . I should know, Since

I am responsible for some thirty of them .

And do me the favor of telling me , if you can, what will be left of these books of mine in twenty years?

1 840 1 84 1 Paris, or N DI CH . O ER

No hook is completed until Error has crept in

’ er afii xed his sly Imprimatur

[ 2 2 ] NOTES

- 1 . M t i i ca. 1480 1564 c c t r t t r a hur n Cord er, , Fren h edu a o and aus ere au ho i of numerous works for ch ldren of a moraliz ing nature . Calvin was among his pupils in Paris . 6 - 1 2 i it r ti 2 . an Pauteren ca. 14 0 5 4 ! van , , Flem sh wr e whose la n gram in its i tt ck in t ti mar, however popular own day, was w dely a a ed la er mes er t f i s obscurity . i r L i Br i 3. L de Aa c S r Gruthu se ou s van , alled ou s de uges, e gneu de la y , - ca. 1425 1492 n r c i i ni , a learned obleman of Flande s who , omm ss o ng some the fi t c i t ic c to set x of nes manus r p s wh h have ome down us, an e ample for Charles the Bold of Burgundy . A A t i 1602 -66 t i i III 4 . S in i nne of us r a, , daugh er of Ph l p of pa , w fe of

L i ! III r c t k c ct r . ou s of F an e, a grea boo olle o Gir t Préfon d i t t -c nt r 5 . c c ct r Paul ardo de , e gh een h e u y Fren h olle o , fi n e k c tt in i i whose boo s are now s a ered many l brar es . - 6 . Fran ois M 1 582 1646 r nc t i in g aynard, , a F e h au hor, who, hav ng va ly t r nt his t r the c his r ti nt sough favo , loudly lame ed fa e f om s ene of e reme in T oulouse . U in t t -c nt r 7 . c i t r rba Chevreau, seven een h e u y Fren h wr er of some epu tation in his ti i c i i ti i i i own me , and a very d s r m na ng b bl oph le . - -H 1 - 1 82 8 . A t i M i i B 7 54 5 i c ct r i n o ne ar e enr oulard, , av d olle o who l ved in Paris . T he B t ar B i i 9 . ollandis s e elg an ! esu ts who published the voluminous i t Acta S an ctoru i t r cc in to and we gh y m legends of sa n s, ar anged a ord g t t he days of he calendar.

10. i 16 1 3 or 162 3 t ti in the Historia Ethia Par s, , an adap a on verse from i pica of Hel odorus . M ohere in the Fourberies de S ca in 1 1 . Two c r s enes of Cy ano used by p ,

i 167 1: Par s, 2 t i — ex B i r 1 6 -1 82 5 i i i and t r of 1 . A A 7 5 n o ne l andre arb e , , b bl oph le, au ho o ir o a Dicti nna e des An nymes . A t i Bauz o nn et i k i r the mid-ni t nt cen 1 3. n o ne , Par s boo b nde of ne ee h t ury.

l 2 3 l 7 5 0 Copies p rinted by the Crimson Printing Company

Repro ductions by the M eriden Gravure Company