Chandler, Raymond

Farewell, My Lovely. London: Hamish Hamilton, 1940.



8vo (7 1/4 x 4 3/4 in; 185 x 120 mm). Publisher's red-lettered yellow cloth in the rare red pictorial dust-jacket; chip at lower right and at head of jacket spine panel, large spot of triangular loss to rear panel not affecting text.



 

Bruccoli A2.2a (Noting that no jacket was located); Haycraft-Queen Cornerstone

chip at lower right and at head of jacket spine panel, large spot of triangular loss to rear panel not affecting text.
In response to your inquiry, we are pleased to provide you with a general report of the condition of the property described above. Since we are not professional conservators or restorers, we urge you to consult with a restorer or conservator of your choice who will be better able to provide a detailed, professional report. Prospective buyers should inspect each lot to satisfy themselves as to condition and must understand that any statement made by Sotheby's is merely a subjective qualified opinion.
NOTWITHSTANDING THIS REPORT OR ANY DISCUSSIONS CONCERNING CONDITION OF A LOT, ALL LOTS ARE OFFERED AND SOLD "AS IS" IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE CONDITIONS OF SALE PRINTED IN THE CATALOGUE.

Presentation copy of the scarce first English edition, inscribed by Chandler to his young friend Vincent.

"Dear Vincent / Please accept this / with my love and admiration / and try not to forget me / because I shall never / forget you / Ray / La Jolla, Dec 15th, 1958"

A  sentimental Chandler writes a warm inscription for the young son of Jean Vounder-Davis (formerly Fracasse), his Playback secretary and a last love. Inscribed Chandler's are true rarities and a presentation as strikingly warm as this a wonderful discovery.  

War time-era English editions of Chandler are rare and the present copy is possibly unique in jacket, with the bibliographer having never located one.

"I lay on my back on a bed in a waterfront hotel and waited for it to get dark. It was a small front room with a hard bed and a mattress slightly thicker than the cotton blanket that covered it. A spring underneath me was broken and stuck into the left side of my back. I lay there and let it prod me. The reflection of a red neon light glared on the ceiling. When it made the whole room red it would be dark enough to go out" (Farewell, My Lovely).