202 - DROUET (Juliette), 1806–1883.

DROUET (Juliette), 1806–1883. Autograph letter signed “Juliette,” undated, October 30 (no year [1847]), 4 pp., in-8 [to Victor Hugo]. A beautiful letter that concludes by mentioning the manuscript of *Les Misérables* entrusted to her and the character of Fantine, who deeply moves her: “I continue to be very happy, my beloved Victor, and to be the most grateful of all Jujus. I thank you and love you with all my heart. I hope you’ll come and feast your eyes on it before heading to the academy? [...] I am so happy, my Victor, with your kind and heartfelt letter from yesterday [...] I want nothing else. First, because we are poor; second, because it distracts you from your work, which is so precious to everyone. [...] I don’t want you, my darling, to give Dédé [probably Adèle Hugo, the writer’s youngest daughter] anything to copy. What I feel is what everyone will feel when reading about the sublime sufferings of that poor martyr, Fantine. My admiration pours out in my tears. You must not punish me for this by cutting a single line from your divine manuscript. Besides, I DON’T WANT YOU TO. Perhaps I am truly its mistress, since I am YOURS. You’re cornered by this pyramid-like argument.”” Victor Hugo had been working since 1845 on his great novel, then titled *Les Misères*, the first draft of what would become *Les Misérables*, which would not be published until 1862. Intimately involved in his work, Juliette was one of the very first readers of the manuscript, a copy of which Hugo also entrusted to her. A moving testament to Juliette Drouet’s involvement in the creation of *Les Misérables*, but also to her immediate reception of the work as its first reader; fifteen years before its publication, she accurately foresaw the universal power of Fantine. The letter beautifully blends this literary emotion with the couple’s romantic intimacy: Juliette thanks her “beloved Victor,” worries about not distracting him from “[his] work so precious to everyone,” and finally, with humor and tenderness, asserts her claim to the manuscript as a natural extension of her claim to its author. Includes its original certificate of export for cultural property from the Ministry of Culture. Water stains along the center fold have caused holes, with no loss of text. Also included, from the same sender to the same recipient: - Autograph letter “Juliette,” undated, March 11 (no year), 4 pp., in-8 (to Victor Hugo): “I’m still in bed, my dear little man, though I haven’t found a single comfortable spot in it since I got in yesterday […]” She is going to get up to “distract myself from this stupid flu that won’t let me go.” The day before, she ran into Mrs. Dillon on the stairs, who asked her to thank Victor Hugo for “the lovely and charming reception” he arranged for her at Mrs. de Girardin’s […] Although her soirées are over, she’ll try to organize a few in small groups […] For the first of these gatherings, she wants to choose your day, Madame de Girardin; she’s taking this opportunity to invite you to her home once again, which isn’t a bad idea for a woman of wit. If I were in her place, I’d do the same every day if I could. But alas, to my great regret, there’s nothing I can do, since you prefer solitude and a life that eventually becomes monotonous. […] My love, you must not let yourself be too hard to persuade when it comes time to attend this introductory soirée […] but you have no need of my endless exhortations to welcome, as she deserves, a poor, honest young woman of such rare and genuine talent. You are closed-minded, unjust, cruel, deaf, blind, and mute only toward me. Toward all other women, you have all your resources and many others [?] to do them the justice they deserve—even when they don’t deserve it."" Accompanied by its former certificate of export for cultural property from the Ministry of Culture. - L.A., Paris, October 2, 1870 “Sunday morning, 10 a.m. ½," 4 pp., in-16: "My beloved, I hope you had a good night’s sleep, at least as good as mine; otherwise, I would feel very guilty about a long sleep that would not be in proportion to yours. I regret to inform you that your son Charles and his wife will not be dining with you again tonight, according to what the hotel maid has just told me […] It is likely that the desire to comfort Madame J. Simon is the real reason for their absence from your table, and that your children will return to you eagerly as soon as this poor woman’s despair has been somewhat soothed. […] I have just sent Suzanne to Louis’s to find out how he is doing with his illness […] As for me, I will be ready to go at 2 o’clock sharp. It is not without a certain apprehension that I venture onto this unhealthy and dizzying height, the “Impériale,” but curiosity