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SAND George (1804-1876).
The item was sold for 2 600 €
Fees include commission and taxes.
SAND George (1804-1876).
L.A.S. addressed to Alexandre Dumas fils. Nohant, 7 October 1851. 4 pp. in-8. Turquoise ink.
Long and beautiful letter : " I have received, finally, what you had given to my businessman [Gabriel Falampin] for me. The delay was only due to me, I thought I was going to Paris every day, and I did not go and I am still here for a month. Thank you, Sir, thank you a thousand times over for the thoughtfulness, and I dare say, the devotion that you have put into all this. The word is not proud between artists. They would owe it to each other| but very few are able to prove it or to accept it. Since you have had the patience to read this collection, rather insignificant because of the repetitions, which I have just reread myself, and which seems to me to have interest only for my own heart, you know now what maternal tenderness has filled nine years of my life. Certainly, there is no secret there, and I would have rather to glorify myself than to blush to have looked after and consoled, like my child, this noble and incurable heart. But the secret side of this correspondence, you know it now. It is not very serious, but it would have been painful for me to see it commented and exaggerated. One tells everything to one's children, when they are old enough to be men. I said then to my poor friend what I say now to my son. When my daughter made me suffer by the heights and the asperities of her character of spoiled child, I complained about it to the one who was my other self. This character, which often distressed and frightened me, has changed thanks to God and a little experience. Besides, the worried mind of a mother exaggerates these first manifestations of strength, these defects which are often her own work, when she has loved or spoiled too much. After a few years, there is no longer any serious question of all this. But these familiar revelations can become important to certain malicious eyes| and I would have suffered a great deal to open to everyone this mysterious book of my intimate life, on the page where is written so many times, with smiles mixed with tears, the name of my daughter. For nothing in the world, however, would I have asked you to send me back the copy you had started to make. I knew that you would send it back to me or that you would burn it as soon as you understood the reason for my concerns [...]". She adds "I finished with much emotion this beautiful novel which has only one defect, it is to be too short! I gave the order to send you my edition illustrated by Johannot. It is not to commit you to read all this junk, but by seeing sometimes dragging these inconvenient sheets around the table where you work, you will say to yourselves that my thought is around you to applaud in advance to your success ". Sand adds: "Kiss for me your good and illustrious father".
L.A.S. addressed to Alexandre Dumas fils. Nohant, 7 October 1851. 4 pp. in-8. Turquoise ink.
Long and beautiful letter : " I have received, finally, what you had given to my businessman [Gabriel Falampin] for me. The delay was only due to me, I thought I was going to Paris every day, and I did not go and I am still here for a month. Thank you, Sir, thank you a thousand times over for the thoughtfulness, and I dare say, the devotion that you have put into all this. The word is not proud between artists. They would owe it to each other| but very few are able to prove it or to accept it. Since you have had the patience to read this collection, rather insignificant because of the repetitions, which I have just reread myself, and which seems to me to have interest only for my own heart, you know now what maternal tenderness has filled nine years of my life. Certainly, there is no secret there, and I would have rather to glorify myself than to blush to have looked after and consoled, like my child, this noble and incurable heart. But the secret side of this correspondence, you know it now. It is not very serious, but it would have been painful for me to see it commented and exaggerated. One tells everything to one's children, when they are old enough to be men. I said then to my poor friend what I say now to my son. When my daughter made me suffer by the heights and the asperities of her character of spoiled child, I complained about it to the one who was my other self. This character, which often distressed and frightened me, has changed thanks to God and a little experience. Besides, the worried mind of a mother exaggerates these first manifestations of strength, these defects which are often her own work, when she has loved or spoiled too much. After a few years, there is no longer any serious question of all this. But these familiar revelations can become important to certain malicious eyes| and I would have suffered a great deal to open to everyone this mysterious book of my intimate life, on the page where is written so many times, with smiles mixed with tears, the name of my daughter. For nothing in the world, however, would I have asked you to send me back the copy you had started to make. I knew that you would send it back to me or that you would burn it as soon as you understood the reason for my concerns [...]". She adds "I finished with much emotion this beautiful novel which has only one defect, it is to be too short! I gave the order to send you my edition illustrated by Johannot. It is not to commit you to read all this junk, but by seeing sometimes dragging these inconvenient sheets around the table where you work, you will say to yourselves that my thought is around you to applaud in advance to your success ". Sand adds: "Kiss for me your good and illustrious father".