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112
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Alexandre DUMAS the Younger. 21 autograph, signed letters to…
See original version (French)
112
-
Alexandre DUMAS the Younger. 21 autograph, signed letters to…
See original version (French)
Estimate €1,800 - €2,200
Voluntary lot
Description
Alexandre DUMAS the Younger. 21 autograph, signed letters to George Sand. 1851–1875. 107 pp. in-12 or in-8, some bearing his initials or those of his wife Nadine, ‘ND’.
In 1851, whilst on a trip to Poland, Alexandre Dumas the Younger came across George Sand’s letters to Chopin and, at the request of the writer—whom Dumas the Elder had informed—brought them back to France to return them to her. Their friendship truly began in 1853, as the theatre in which they were both involved brought them closer together: they attended performances of each other’s plays, discussed them and exchanged letters. They saw little of each other in the 1850s, but their relationship took a new turn when, in 1861, Dumas the Younger visited Nohant. To her, he was ‘my dear son’; to him, she was ‘my dear mum’.
– 20 August 1851: As he is in rehearsals, he cannot go to Nohant, but is pleased that she enjoyed his book [Le Régent Mustel]. His father, “who continues to be sentenced to hard labour, asks her forgiveness for not having been to Nohant... ” – 28 October 1855: A long letter in reply to a letter from Sand dated 26 October, in which she asked him about the actor Bache, whom he had recommended to her and whom she did not know: ‘He is a grotesque figure full of ingenuity, expressiveness and the unexpected. His physique is reminiscent of Debureau… His face rather resembles moonlight preserved in a dictionary… His voice has the clear tones of Pierrot when, by chance, he speaks of the delicate feelings of his soul, and the rolls of a funeral drum…” – [22 August 1861]. Reply to a letter from Sand dated 18 June: “Beautiful, kind, great and dear Mum, I too love you with all my heart and miss you all on my own just as much as the two of you [George Sand and Manceau] miss me… I have received a letter from Father Dumas, who too is losing heart.” Could Sand write to him: “Perhaps he will seize the lifeline you hold out to him. He is so strong, and the first movement is always so fine.’ – 31 October 1861. *Le Drac* is dedicated to him: ‘When a writer of your calibre inscribes a contemporary name on one of his works, he can pack his bags; he is sure to stand the test of time. So here I am on my way, and I shall try not to put my great companion to shame. In fact, you are such a fine woman that one no longer dares to tell you that you are a great man…’ – [15 December 1861]: He regains his zest for life: ‘I would not wish to leave without having said a host of little things that I know, which will be of no use to others, but which are worth having said… I had to make my own way, and teach myself what is good, true and just… Today I understand the truth…’ – [23 May 1863]: Reply to a letter from Sand the previous day regarding a plan to stage *Le Marquis de Villemer* at the Odéon: “I have made the work I have begun available to her [La Rounat], should the need arise, and even everything else I might still produce with a collaborator… So I shall have the opening copied out so that you have a clean copy, and I am at your disposal… ’ – [26 October 1863]: Still on *Villemer*: ‘There is only one thing in all this that does not sit well with me, and that is the question of authorship and the question of rights. The book is yours – the play is yours… I’ve set the scene as best I could, but the play is yours, yours alone, and you alone must sign it. As for the royalties, I don’t want any.” – [14 July 1864]. On Carrier-Belleuse: ‘He is asking to make a life-size terracotta bust of you – which he will offer to you – but he will sell the smaller version. He will go to Palaiseau – you will look at it two or three times and that will be that…’ – [5 December 1865]. On the stage adaptation of the latest Aldini play. He does not wish to revise La Rounat’s work: “This method of piecing things together is not my own; I would be clumsy at it and, besides, I cannot and will not collaborate. My time, my advice, my support with the theatre managers, my marginal notes once their work is finished – in short, everything that falls within the literary sphere, wholeheartedly – but not within the trade – and above all – no money. ’ – [12 January 1866]. A long letter in reply to a letter from Sand dated 9–10 January, still on the subject of *La Dernière Aldini*, which she felt lacked sufficient substance for the theatre: ‘You can only return to the theatre with a success. ’ A comic opera would be preferable: ‘There you will be able to regain what you are losing today, and even more besides, to the music of Merdi, as you call him, but money doesn’t stink.’ – 26 May 1866. ‘Here’s one that’s starting to get on my nerves—*L’Affaire Clémenceau*—and I’m off back to my little theatre where you don’t have to speak French if you don’t want to. I’m still struggling with the ending. The stabbing doesn’t quite work… Yes, life isn’t always a bed of roses. Up to the age of 20, it’s all right. After that, well…’ – [5 June 1866]. ‘ Iza [the main character in *L’Affaire Clémenceau*] has finally passed away, justly paying the price for the abominations she had committed. Up until then, her murderer—who has the honour of being your son—had been working like a slave, from whom he is descended on his father’s side. Phew! I have no remorse, but I’m absolutely knackered… and I admire you a little more for producing masterpieces and doing so so quickly…’ – [22 January 1867]. On the stage adaptation of *Mont-Revêche*, for which he lacks the time: ‘And then it will be more Dumas, and Dumas plus Dumas… So you would need a very clear and precise script. I’m incapable of putting it in writing, having never been able to produce one…’ – [Late October 1868]. On the death of his mother, for whom he wept deeply: ‘It brings me relief. It is said that a mother must do her son good right up until her death.’ – 10 March 1869: ‘I have just gone to lay poor Lamartine to rest… Born in a cloud, he vanished into the mist after having been sun, lightning, star, moon and rain. All his life he had dreaded having to face the end, and in the end he died without knowing what he was doing. He was a great figure, the greatest, I believe, amongst the men of our time, just as you are the only one amongst women of all times, past, present and future… ’ – [January 1875]. He sent the autograph to Juliette Adam: ‘It’s always a bit silly, an autograph written on purpose, but then again, even the most beautiful girl in the world cannot give… ’ On his daughter Jeannine: ‘On the day of my induction [into the Académie Française], she declared that she would not attend if it were to finish too late and prevent her from going to her class…’
See original version (French)
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