The Gehenna Press was a major US fine press founded by Leonard Baskin, with whose name it became almost synonymous. Like the best private presses, it was driven to excellence by its proprietor’s single-minded focus on perfection. In 1964 it published The Defense of Gracchus Babeuf in a limitation of 300 copies, and I’ll be taking a look at that edition here.
The binding
We receive a clamshell box covered in a finely woven natural linen-like cloth with a smooth surface. The box is quarter bound with a leather back strip on which is blocked the title, publisher, and year. It’s classy in its restraint. The book was available in two different leather colours: navy blue or tan. I opted for the navy blue because it seemed apt for the topic of the French Revolution, but both versions look quite attractive. Within the box is a full leather (blue or tan) chemise whose spine is blocked in an identical fashion to the box. The chemise contains the pages of the book en feulles, that is, in unbound sheets. This was perhaps inspired by the 18th century practice of issuing books in sheets for the customer to bind according to their own taste. In any event, you certainly won’t want to discard the supplied chemise here; it’s quite delightful.
The paper
Turning to the paper, there are six signatures of sixteen pages each, making 96 pages in total. The paper is identified in the colophon as a German stock called Nideggen, but the watermark appears to be that of the Zerkall Mill so I guess it was manufactured there.
The paper has a nice pliability that suggests a high rag content, as well as a tactile surface with a distinct fibrous quality. Overall, a very nice paper indeed! The fore edge has been trimmed straight while the bottom edge has been left with a deckle. The book was supplied unopened, meaning the top edges have not been cut open where pages were formed by folding a sheet. Normally, the reader would be expected to slice these open using a flat and not too sharp tool. However, because the signatures are not bound into the chemise, it is possible to individually unfold them for reading and then fold them back into place without cutting them open. This was my chosen approach. It was a bit of a faff, but allowed me to enjoy reading the book while still being left with a pristine unopened copy afterwards. The text is set in period-appropriate Baskerville and the printing is very cleanly executed with a visible bite.
Illustrations
This edition was illustrated by Thomas Cornell with 20 laid-in etched portraits. These are printed on a blue laid paper that, again, is a tactile delight. The etchings are superbly executed, finely detailed portraits with excellent reproduction. Each is signed by Cornell in pencil and most (but not all) have a blind debossed caption identifying the subject. There’s also a frontispiece printed directly onto the page, and a small vignette illustration printed in red on the colophon page.
The text
François-Noël Babeuf (known as Gracchus in reference to the Gracchi brothers who served as plebeian tribunes in republican Rome) was an important actor in revolutionary France. A leading figure in “The Conspiracy of the Equals”, he used his newspaper, Le tribun du peuple, as a platform to advocate for an early form of communism. The bulk of the book consists of the text of Babeuf’s defence at trial against a charge of conspiracy for the confiscation of private property. Despite lacking a formal childhood education, he crafted eloquent, passionate, and erudite remarks that showed him to be widely read and contained many ideas that underpin modern democratic philosophy. But the defence is also laced with proto-communist ideas that would today be regarded as extreme even among the most left-leaning: advocating for the confiscation of all private property and the regarding as a thief any man who takes more from nature than that needed for basic survival. Quoting another source he remarks “nothing has been more conclusively proven than the maxim: a man only succeeds in becoming rich through the spoliation of others”, which is at odds with modern economic thought. Thus, for all its eloquence, this is rhetoric laden with ideas that were later found to be dangerous. We should forgive Babeuf: he was writing at a time not only of great social upheaval, but also when economic thinking was in its very infancy and 20th century voices couldn’t tell of their experience of communism. Babeuf’s peers were not so forgiving: putting aside the propriety of the accusations, his guilt was beyond doubt and in the febrile years of a revolution no nascent government can afford to turn a blind eye to detractors. He was convicted and swiftly executed, but not before leaving modern readers this fascinating window into 18th century political and economic thought.
John Anthony Scott furnished the translation and also deserves some credit. I don’t doubt the eloquence of Babeuf’s French original, but it takes a certain skill to respect a foreign-language text while making it such an attractive piece of English prose in its own right. Scott also provided an essay on Babeuf and a set of biographical notes on the main protagonists, both of which are printed after the text of the defence. Here’s a minor gripe: I have recently bemoaned on this blog editions with spoiler-laden introductions (if they are going to include spoilers, why not print it as an afterword after the main text?) In this edition we have the opposite problem: Scott’s essay is enlightening and provides essential context for understanding Babeuf’s defence—such as why he was arrested in the first place! Many readers would doubtless benefit from reading the essay before the defence, so I would have preferred to find it placed it first as an introduction. That’s the only thing I can find to lament in this otherwise superb edition. ■
Where to buy
You can search for this edition on eBay US*, eBay UK*, AbeBooks US*, or AbeBooks UK*.
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Provenance
I bought my copy as “new old stock” directly from the widow of the illustrator, Thomas Cornell. She had on had a stack on unsold copies still in their original packaging some half a century after publication. For posterity, here are a couple of photographs of how the book was originally wrapped. Nb: the label on the wrapper says the spine is black but I put it under a direct, daylight-balanced light source and it looks very much blue to me. Thanks to dlphcorcl at the Fine Press Forum for tipping us off about the opportunity to acquire this edition.
The Ubiquitous Book blog 