André BRETON – Double manuscript on theatre and Eugène IONESCO. 1955.

André Breton (1896.1966)

Autograph manuscripts signed.

Two and a half pages in quarto.

St Cirq. September 23, 1955.

Breton's two working manuscripts, fervently presenting Eugène Ionesco's new play at the Théâtre de la Huchette. This text would appear under the title " Toupie ronflante" in Les Cahiers des saisons at the end of 1955.

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Once again, the Théâtre de la Huchette plants its whirring top in the heart of old Paris, a top that absorbs all the other sounds of the city: a new Ionesco play! This top, like in the happiest days of our childhood, we prepare to see it take its sweeping, tilted turns and leap, rumbling as it goes, dragging our own hearts along defenseless. All eyes on its marvelous, glittering costume, which draws upon all the resources of verbal misunderstanding, in the full exuberance of our times, and whose supreme adornment is nonsense, enamored of its profound meaning. And here is yet another room in our modest apartment transformed into a palace of mirages. In the whirl of the spinning top, let us learn to grasp the area of ​​great drift that unfolds around all serious matters, private or public, let us watch, if we are in the mood for antecedents, for Kierkegaard's distant tip of the hat to Hegel and the haughty sign that answers him, or else let us be content to hear – but as if we were really taking part in it – the mass of fools while inserting ourselves into the circle of prisoners.

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Once again, the Théâtre de la Huchette plants its whirring top in the heart of old Paris, a top that single-handedly absorbs all the other sounds of the city: a new Ionesco play! This top, as in the happiest days of our childhood, let us prepare to see it take its sweeping, tilted turns and leap upon itself, as when it defenselessly submitted to the movements of our own hearts. Anyone who retains enough freshness for this will open their eyes wide to its marvelous cloak of glitter, which exhausts all the resources of verbal misunderstanding, in the full exuberance of our times, and whose supreme adornment is nonsense, enamored of its own over-signification. And there you have it, yet another play or two in our modest apartment that "bursts open" the palace of mirages! In the whirlwind of the spinning top, let us learn to grasp the vast drift that unfolds around all serious matters, private or public; let us watch, if we are in a mood for precedents, for Kierkegaard's distant nod to Hegel and the haughty gesture that responds; but above all, let us savor, as Ionesco masterfully prepares us, at the edge of spasmodic laughter and anguish, the bitter pleasure of seeing our privileged-subordinate condition laid bare, as if in a trance, a condition that makes us participate simultaneously in the mass of fools and the prisoners' circle. André Breton.