Câarti vâechi si râare si cu multe legi si cu plictisuri impaginate si scrise de mana si cu manuscrise musamalizat-refolosite si cu barbati urati si prafuiti si cu microbi si multe alergii la YT si cu alte chestii prostesti de interesante. Si cu invartituri in cerc. Holbati-va!
Fragmente din articolul: M. Friedberg, Soviet Russia’s Bibliophiles and Their Foes: A Review Article, in Slavic Review, Vol. 35, Nr. 4 (Dec., 1976), pp. 699-714. Lectura placuta.
In the XVIIIth c., the library of Prince D.M. Golitsyn numbered about 6000 volumes: we have this information because when the prince fell into disfavor with the monarch, the library was confiscated by the police. The holdings of the library of N.P. Rumiantsev, probably the largest in the XIXth c. Russia, included 28.000 books, 710 mss., and 1500 maps. At the turn of the century, in the distant reaches of Siberia, Gennadii Vasil’evich Iudin amassed a library of 80000 volumes. Iudin was a jealous guardian of his possession, but he would on occasion relent. Thus, he allowed the use of his library to a political exile then in Siberia who, like so many others, used the period of his banishment to catch up on research and writing. The exile was Vladimir Ul’ianov, who later became Lenin. It should perhaps be noted that the Iudin collection was purchased in 1906 with American taxpayers’ money and now reposes in the Library of Congress – where it is used, among others, by more recent Russian political exiles.
In 1888, A.S. Suvorin, Chekhov’s longtime friend and publisher, needed a rare book. The work in question was Alexander Radischev’s Journey from St. Patersburg to Moscow, a fictionalized eighteenth-century tract that was banned by the censors because of its attack on the institution of serfdom. Suvorin finally prevailed on P.V. Shchapov, described by a historian as a “book fanatic” to lend him a copy so that it could be reprinted (the ban had by then been lifted). The copy was sent to the typesetters who, unaware of the book’s rarity, tore it up into individual pages, losing a few in the process. And even though Suvorin bought (at enormous expense) an exact replica of the destroyed copy, Shchapov “soon died in a state o complete insanity caused, in the opinion of his doctors by mental suffering that was triggered by the loss of a beloved book.” That bibliophiles are erratic, capable of extremes of greed as well as selfless concern for the happiness of fellow collectors, is attested by the biography of P.A. Efremov (1830 – 1907). His passion for collecting rare books led him to “manufacture” rarities, which he did by reproducing articled from journals and having them bound into covers and jackets printed privately for him alone.On the other hand, in his last will and testament he actually requested that his impressive collection not be preserved intact. Rather, he wrote, it should be broken up by having the books scattered as widely as possible. In this manner, Efremov thought, he would bring much joy to many collectors who would have as much fun hunting for these books as he did in his lifetime. Then there is also the documented story of a Russian aristocrat who, eager to impress friends and acquaintances with his erudition, created what may be called a Potemkin library. He borrowed overnight a large collection of impressive books and had the displayed conspicuously in his house, where he was giving a large party. The following morning all the books were returned to the dealer
The swan song of old Russia’s bibliophilia was a magnificent volume entitled Pokhvala knige (In Praise of Books) that appeared in 1917, only a few months before the Revolution. Six hundred fifty copies were printed on rag paper and 400 more on ordinary paper. Superbly illustrated, the collection attests to the great interest in book collecting and in the graphic arts in Russia at the turn of the century.
Sperand ca v-am starnit curiozitatea prin randurile de mai sus, intregul articol poate fi DL de aici.
Un excelent site, in rusa: Antiquarian Book (link-ul este pe Google Translate).
“…apartamentele al caror unic mobilier îl constituie o biblioteca plina pîna la refuz: invidia admirativa fata de cineva care nu se încarca cu lucruri inutile, dar care geme de atîtea lucruri necesare.”
[Amelie Nothomb, Antihrista.]
“Depasi cativa Bibliotecari. Si acum, dupa atata vreme, zambea atunci cand ii vedea. Ei constituiau cea mai veche breasla din Imperiu, si se agatau de niste obiceiuri demodate datand de cateva milenii… Imbracamintea lor era matasoasa, alburie, semanand cu o toga, ingustandu-se la gat si cazand de acolo in valuri.”
Franz Cumont a murit de pneumonie din cauza frigului de la Bibliotheque Nationale din Paris, lucrind la ultima sa carte intitulata Lux perpetua.
“Luam ceaiul la Marie Louise Bousquet, in Place du Palais Bourbon, piata caracterizata de austeritatea romana a arhitecturii sale. Aceste locuinte vechi, pline de lucruri mostenite s-au adaptat, timp de decenii si secole, omului si fiintei sale, precum hainele care, indelung purtate, se muleaza cu fiecare cuta a lor pe corp. Ele sunt cochilii in acceptia unei zoologii superioare. Madame Bousquet…mi-a aratat biblioteca mica, patrata si in intregime lambrisata cu lemn. Am examinat acolo manuscrisele, dedicatiile si legaturile frumoase. Acestea erau in parte din piele poroasa, a carei atingere dubleaza placerea lecturii, si in culori amintind de micsunelele ruginii-iradiind de la violetul dulce, care trece in negru, pana la nuantele sale mai deschise, si de la cafeniul auriu intunecat pana la desenele stropite cu aur si jucand in ape aurii.”
[Ernst Jünger, Jurnale pariziene.]
Sorband intelepciunea cu polonietzschele.