André Breton - Signed Autograph Letter To Gérard Legrand - May 1965 - Surrealist Manuscript
Autograph letter signed by André Breton to his friend Gérard Legrand (Surrealist poet, philosopher, and film critic) on May 20, 1965, written in blue marker on letterhead featuring a Surrealist drawing by La Brèche, a Surrealist collective and publisher of *Le Terrain Vague*, located on Rue du Cherche-Midi.
Dimensions: 27 x 21 cm—envelope included.
Mailed from Paris on the day it was written.
Good overall condition, slight tear visible on the letter.
Paris, May 20, 1965
Dearest Gérard,
That’s just fine, provided the length doesn’t put them off. In that case, I preferred to underline this myself—the minimum length that was absolutely non-negotiable—and to specify that only the full text could be published under your byline. Forgive this intrusive telegram, but they were breathing down my neck...
Bernier just called to give his full approval. It’s only from here on that things really get started. I’ll try to let our friends know about this later—I haven’t seen them since last week (at the entrance to the “Puces,” just as I was about to cross at the traffic light, standing perfectly still in front of a crosswalk that was infamously studded with metal spikes, I was violently jostled by a car that chose that very moment to back up and strike my knee at an angle: this would be of no interest if, at almost the same time, a similar accident—and, incidentally, just as minor—hadn’t happened to Maurice Rheims, and Toyen hadn’t fallen down the Benoît family’s stairs (she luckily escaped without a fracture but was injured: nothing serious either). That same Sunday, I wonder what the festival program had in store for you and Robert. As for me, having been able to keep walking—the pain and functional impairment gave me a few hours’ respite—I came across two reels that, judging by the Ado Kyrou label, appear to be from a kinetoscope and bear the engraved inscription: “Patented Nov. 5, 1895 – Jan. 25, 1898.”
Since we lack the device to play them, we can only flip through them more or less clumsily, but what they reveal is utterly charming. They consist of a series of photographic images—in positive—depicting, on the one hand, an “opium den” in the hysterical style of the Salpêtrière, and on the other, a sort of vaudeville reduced to its simplest form. I don’t know if these things are rare, but their appeal extends quite far. Tell Robert that I’m waiting for his insights on this.
Thank you again, my dear Gérard, and all the best to you.
André
Dimensions: 27 x 21 cm—envelope included.
Mailed from Paris on the day it was written.
Good overall condition, slight tear visible on the letter.
Paris, May 20, 1965
Dearest Gérard,
That’s just fine, provided the length doesn’t put them off. In that case, I preferred to underline this myself—the minimum length that was absolutely non-negotiable—and to specify that only the full text could be published under your byline. Forgive this intrusive telegram, but they were breathing down my neck...
Bernier just called to give his full approval. It’s only from here on that things really get started. I’ll try to let our friends know about this later—I haven’t seen them since last week (at the entrance to the “Puces,” just as I was about to cross at the traffic light, standing perfectly still in front of a crosswalk that was infamously studded with metal spikes, I was violently jostled by a car that chose that very moment to back up and strike my knee at an angle: this would be of no interest if, at almost the same time, a similar accident—and, incidentally, just as minor—hadn’t happened to Maurice Rheims, and Toyen hadn’t fallen down the Benoît family’s stairs (she luckily escaped without a fracture but was injured: nothing serious either). That same Sunday, I wonder what the festival program had in store for you and Robert. As for me, having been able to keep walking—the pain and functional impairment gave me a few hours’ respite—I came across two reels that, judging by the Ado Kyrou label, appear to be from a kinetoscope and bear the engraved inscription: “Patented Nov. 5, 1895 – Jan. 25, 1898.”
Since we lack the device to play them, we can only flip through them more or less clumsily, but what they reveal is utterly charming. They consist of a series of photographic images—in positive—depicting, on the one hand, an “opium den” in the hysterical style of the Salpêtrière, and on the other, a sort of vaudeville reduced to its simplest form. I don’t know if these things are rare, but their appeal extends quite far. Tell Robert that I’m waiting for his insights on this.
Thank you again, my dear Gérard, and all the best to you.
André
650 €
Period: 20th century
Style: Other Style
Condition: Good condition
Material: Paper
Width: 21 cm
Height: 27 cm
Reference (ID): 1810796
Availability: In stock
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