33. Bound by Léon Gruel.
34. Bound by Léon Gruel.
The modern movement in binding may be said to have sprung out of the new form of book-collecting which began about 1870. Up to that time the book lover had confined himself entirely to eighteenth-century literature. For forty or fifty years there had been a mad rush in the salerooms for books of that period, which were then confided to Thouvenin, Simier, or Trautz, who had exercised their skill in marvellous imitations of the past, with an execution often more technically perfect than the originals. There came a time, however, when such works were exhausted—already stored away, that is to say, on the shelves of collectors, the few that occasionally appeared on the market being only to be had at prohibitive prices. Book-buyers were thus faced with the problem of what was to be their next move. Obviously to create a new taste in books and establish a fresh motive for collecting was a necessity, and a few pioneers decided to set the fashion in illustrated books of the nineteenth century. Léon Conquet, whose reputation as a publisher is associated with the production of many fine works, at once rose to the occasion, and made a name first with his editions of the romantics of the nineteenth century, and then with original editions of contemporary authors. Clients for whom the old tastes had become too rare and costly an indulgence were thus provided with the means of gratifying a new enthusiasm.
35. Bound By Léon Gruel.
36. Bound by Léon Gruel.
In 1874 an association sprang up of about fifty-five collectors who called themselves ‘Les amis des livres,’ from which sprang the new departure which has had far-reaching results in book production. The members determined that henceforth, instead of reprints from the past, there should be books specially illustrated and specially produced in small editions for the society, thus reviving the traditions of the days of Grolier and De Thou, when book collectors were also book makers in the best sense of the word. Authors and artists were to collaborate with printers and publishers to produce the perfect work. In this way came into existence Eugénie Grandet with the drawings of Dagnan engraved by Le Rat, Monsieur, Madame et Bébé, illustrated by Edmond Morin and many another, to which Meissonier, Vierge and Lepère devoted their best efforts. Illustrated books have always presented a special attraction for our neighbours, and this new stimulus gave the most surprising results. Out of it arose, too, all the excessive preoccupation with ‘states,’ ‘papier de chine,’ ‘papier de japon,’ and the like which has been carried to a ridiculous extent. The cult of rarity in all such matters surely reached its highest point when single copies were specially illustrated for individual collectors, such as the Fleurs du Mal, which Paul Gallimond had ornamented with marginal notes by Rodin, and Les Trois Mousquetaires with water-colour sketches by Maurice Leloir. The original drawings for Notre Dame de Paris by Luc Olivier Merson were bought for 20,000 francs in the open market, while those for Les Trois Mousquetaires and Manon Lescaut by Maurice Leloir fetched the extravagant price of 60,000 francs apiece. These facts are interesting as showing how a small number of genuine book lovers and collectors can constitute a real power, and so far control the character of the book market that they create a new taste which will be recorded in history as the fashion of the age in which they lived. The success of the ‘Société des amis des livres’ and the response of the editors such as Conquet, Quantin, Testaud, and others, to their initiation, gave such encouragement to amateurs that two new clubs were soon formed, ‘Les amis des livres de Lyon’ and ‘Les bibliophiles contemporains.’ The last was founded by Octave Uzanne with a membership of 160, and ceased to exist only to be re-established as the ‘Société des cent bibliophiles,’ presided over by M. Eugène Roderigues. Besides all these associations there grew up a class of literature entirely devoted to the instruction of the amateur and the development of his taste in all matters relating to books and their bindings. The earlier literature of binding had been devoted to reproductions of fine specimens from historic collections, but now there appeared in profusion such books as L’art d’aimer les livres et de les connaître, Connaissances nécessaires à un bibliophile, Les livres modernes qu’il convient d’acquérir, De la reliure, examples à imiter ou à rejeter, not to mention monthly reviews such as Le Livre Moderne, L’Art et l’Idée, Le Livre et l’Image, and the like.
Grolier took the best books he could find, and put them into the best bindings he could find, and the motto of the collectors of to-day was henceforth to be, as M. Béraldi says in the work previously mentioned, ‘le livre de son temps dans la reliure originale de son temps.’ Thus out of the new bibliomania grew naturally the reaction in binding with which we are now dealing, and the latest expression of which was seen in the Galliera Museum. These books of fine illustrations must have an appropriate decoration; nothing will do that has served its turn elsewhere, and every amateur stipulates that his binding shall be unique. ‘Doublures,’ formerly the exception, are now the rule; ‘tools’ are cut freely for fresh designs, and expense increases with the initiative demanded of the binder, till there seems no limit to what will be paid by the enthusiast. With the craving for novelty there naturally arises the problem, so difficult of solution, concerning the limitations of material and how far audacity may be risked in decoration without extravagance or eccentricity. Cuzin, at the height of his reputation in 1885, was possibly the first to leave the grooves of tradition and to create a style that he considered appropriate to the books of the time. It consisted for the most part on the outer covers of what the French call jeu de filets, or line patterns which are capable of much diversity, while wreaths of flowers inside took the place of the lace patterns that had hitherto formed the ornament of ‘doublures.’ He also adopted emblematic designs, but these were exceedingly moderate in their symbolism. Marius Michel, too, devoted himself to the research for fresh motives of decoration. In 1889, when eighteen years of age, he had gone into Gruel’s atelier and rapidly became a gilder of consummate taste and skill. Ten years later he set up for himself as a finisher, working for Duru, Capé, Chambolle, Cuzin and other binders. For the next twenty years or more his fine talent was devoted to the reproduction of bindings of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, to perfect copies of Grolier, Le Gascon and others put upon the books of that time, which were still to be bought freely and at moderate price. Some of his best work is to be seen now in the library at Chantilly; for the late Duc d’Aumale during his exile intrusted large numbers of books to Capé, always accompanied with detailed instructions, and it is these which constitute a large part of the elder Marius Michel’s title to fame.