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a close up of a piece of paper with writing on itseveral old papers are stacked on top of each other on a white surfaceseveral old letters are stacked on top of each other on a white surfacean old french book with a blue border and a white backgroundan open book with a handwritten title and a picture of a horseseveral old letters are stacked on top of each other on a white surface
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159 - Henri Massis (1886–1970), literary critic and nationalist es…
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Henri Massis (1886–1970), literary critic and nationalist essayist A collection of correspondence and 1 publication 26 letters written by the author and postcards, 1921–1947, addressed to René Benjamin, including: Letter written by the author, Vieux Moulin (Oise), undated [1927] My dear friend ( ), as for me, I am filling pages with violet ink, incidentally. *L’Occident* has brought me countless controversies; some criticise me for being too ‘witty’; others for being too ‘political’. Ah! Our contemporaries no longer have any notion of ‘orders’, as Pascal used to say. Europe has lost its head, and Rome is constantly invoked by the enemies of the West. What a dreadful waste! Yet when one reads a book like Siegfried’s on the United States today (I highly recommend it), one feels full of tenderness and love for this old and absurd Europe. Ah! My friend, what a future the ‘one hundred per cent’ Puritans of Virginia or Texas are preparing for us, with their gunfights, their prohibitions, their ‘eugenics’ and the ‘sterilisation’ of men of colour! Yes, they’ve found it in their Bible—the way to render Blacks and Asians infertile, whilst still allowing them to make love! Admire it, Benjamin, admire the New World. And tell me whether your Bretons, in their delirium, will ever go that far. Aren’t Renan, Châteaubriand and Lamennais becoming rather ‘sympathetic’, as Mr Bourget puts it? Pailleron, when one thinks of those Taylorist Yankees! But I don’t know why I’m telling you all this ( ) you were only asking me for news of the Daudet affair (I have none) and of Bernanos the wanderer. Rest assured: he’s popular (ah! those novelists). He has just bought a magnificent old house in Clermont (Oise), where he is in the process of settling in L.A.S., Le Mayet de Montagne (Allier), 6 August 1947 (...) I think of you very often. Need I write this to you? As for one person or another, do we not know more or less the only thing that matters today: whether this or that one of us is still alive. As for the rest, there are too many things to say, which are cut short by that feeling of pity or revulsion where the soul never ceases to waver in the midst of this dreadful world. So when we know that Benjamin is still out there somewhere, that is to say, that something solid exists, something we can rely on! There’s no need to bother him: we tell ourselves: everything’s fine, because we know that when the day comes when we can set about doing what needs to be done, he’ll be there. There’s no need to tell him, nor to ask him. (...) As for me, what can I tell you? I set off for the Bourbonnais around 15 June: I’ll be staying there until the end of September. We’ve managed to rent the house in Le Mayet-de-Montagne where my son lived during the Occupation; and we’re there with his two eldest children. My poor wife, who had a dreadful winter (four months in bed with pyelonephritis, then scalded), finds her only respite in the role of cook and nanny, from whose perseverance and strength one might draw inspiration… As for me, I’m getting by on my own with Pascal (a book for the Fayard collection), and I’m sick of repeating, yet again, what others have said far better than I ever could about his life (after so many others have done so); this book trade business is the most tedious thing in the world and fills the mind with a sort of dreadful numbness… I’ve just finished about sixty pages for a reprint of my critical works: what madness! Who on earth could still be interested in any of this? When will I be able to edit a journal again? It is the only thing that would restore my zest for life. I miss it terribly. The other day, someone quoted a rather lovely remark by Paulhan to me: ‘It is very dangerous to be the editor of a journal: one comes to believe one is the author of the articles one publishes…’ Very true; and I speak from experience: how many times has simply having published them been enough for me… The important thing is that things are said… even if it serves no purpose… Avant-Postes (chronicle of a recovery) – Les cahiers de l’Occident Paris, Librairie de France, no. 4 (2nd series) First edition published by Alfa Navarre 24 x 19 cm, signed autograph copy FIND THE FULL AND DETAILED DESCRIPTION OF THIS LOT IN OUR ONLINE AUCTION CATALOGUE
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About the sale René Benjamin, the 20th-century Balzac scholar
Auction location
Auction time 10/06/2026 at 2:00 PM
Pictures credits: Contact the Auction House
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