CATHERINE LAWTON-LÉVY, FROM PEDDLING TO PUBLISHING. BIFUR AND ÉDITIONS DU CARREFOUR

par Henri Béhar

Those curious about surrealism know well the magazine Bifur, that "remarkable garbage can," as André Breton called it in the Second Manifesto of Surrealism, on a day of great depression. I have always thought that these unjust words, written about Georges Ribemont-Dessaignes and especially Robert Desnos, came from the spite of seeing individuals of great talent move away from him to find welcome in an organ open to the four winds of the spirit, and especially sheltered from financial difficulties. Indeed, it required a certain ease to think of publishing such a magazine after the Wall Street crash and the crisis that followed in Europe! In truth, Bifur, which should have appeared regularly every two months, only lasted eight issues, from May 25, 1929 to June 10, 1931, with less and less regularity.

We remember that, founded by Pierre Lévy, the boss of Éditions du Carrefour, it had GRD as editor-in-chief, former manager of several Dadaist publications, assisted by Nino Frank who himself brought his experience from the Italian magazine 900. We mention especially the prestigious collaborations it was able to gather very early, from Malraux to Giono through Michaux, Sartre and Kafka. GRD had rallied his friends from Le Grand Jeu, and he was surrounded (at least virtually) by prestigious foreign advisors: Barilli, Benn, Gomez de la Serna, Joyce, Pilniak, William C. Williams. A place of choice was reserved for illustration, notably with photos by Pierre Tabard, André Kertesz, Claude Cahun.

Of the publisher, sometimes considered a simple sponsor, little is known, except that he had revolutionary opinions, and we forget that he himself published Max Ernst's collages (La Femme 100 têtes, Rêve d'une petite fille qui voulut entrer au Carmel), GRD's Frontières humaines, Chirico's Hebdomeros, C. Cahun's Aveux non avenus, Michaux's Un certain Plume, etc.

Fortunately, his daughter, Catherine Lawton-Lévy, comes to set the record straight. I want to express my surprise and pleasure at seeing a close witness take things from a high perspective, with the seriousness and competence of the historian, drawing from the best sources. She first informs us about the Alsatian origins of the family, condemned to the profession of peddler, about its emigration to Switzerland, where it passes from peddling to watch manufacturing. Thus a fortune is built which young Pierre Lévy (1894-1945) will know how to take advantage of by satisfying his literary tastes. Informed about anarchy by the watchmakers of the Jura Federation, rubbing shoulders with Dadaists during his studies in Zurich, he settles in Paris in 1921, builds a good network of relationships, particularly frequents Jean Lurçat and the Alsatian Jeanne Bucher who will help him create the Carrefour editions, one by lending him her gallery, the other by drawing the logo of the magazine he does not delay in launching, in complete independence. Thanks to his foreign advisors, he manages to publish Isaac Babel, Boris Pilniak, Kafka, and Heidegger's first text in France.

A brilliant graduate from the École Normale arrives, Paul Nizan, who ousts Nino Frank and, once in the house, thinks to pull the chestnuts from the fire for the greater glory of his Party, in vain. However, the magazine not covering its costs, it is necessary to find capital from outside. It arrives in 1933 in the person of Willi Münzenberg, the German communist press magnate, who managed to leave Germany on the eve of Hitler's accession to power. He proposes to buy the house, while leaving the owner in place, and has him publish the famous Brown Book demonstrating Nazi complicity in the Reichstag fire. Then, virtually ousted, Pierre Lévy stays on the Côte d'Azur, embarks with his daughter on a long sea voyage, cut short by the declaration of war. A Swiss citizen, he remains in the southern zone, where he acts for the Resistance. His family threatened, he returns to his native country. When he returns to Paris, as soon as the Allied landing, it is to find his apartment ransacked by the Germans, his accounting and all his archives taken away. He dies prematurely from the consequences of a cerebral accident.

We can only regret the disappearance of these archives, which would have enlightened us further on the functioning of such an editorial structure in the service of the literary avant-garde, especially in its relations with the Communist Party. Failing that, the author could have explored certain libraries, if only the one that acquired Nino Frank's archives. Perhaps she could have taken this opportunity to reestablish the link uniting the title of the magazine (and its graphics) with that of a typographic font developed at the beginning of 1929 by the famous poster artist Cassandre. It remains that we have rarely read a work on a publisher that is so lively, fascinating and learnedly conducted.