The Guilde des Bibliopolicés – Presentation

Body affiliated to the General Inspectorate of the Printed Book (IGLI)

Dear bibliophiles, good day,

You may have been surprised, on reading the previous article, to learn that the keeper of the cabinet of bibliophilic curiosities that is this blog had decided, after more than fifteen years of a more or less silent vigil, to close gently the notebook in which he recorded his finds.

Rest assured: the volume does not end, it simply changes hands.
The bookmark has been passed on, the margin goes on being written.

At the origin of these pages there is Hugues, passionate bibliophile, explorer of margins, cartographer of entries, who since 2008 has made of this site a rare space, where erudition flirts with fantasy, and where love of the book is conjugated in the first person plural.

The Guilde des Bibliopolicés (the Guild), henceforth in charge of the scriptorium, salutes this founding work with gratitude, and undertakes to pursue, with respect but without excessive reverence, this learned and critical adventure.

A Guild? What for?

Somebody had to meddle.
Too many “extremely rare” works seen three times a week.
Too many dedications from the author to his cousin passed off as autograph treasures.
Too many made-up moroccos, lyrical notices, bogus printings on precious papers.

In this joyous bibliophilic disorder, a discreet and inflexible order has arisen.

Born of the constant need to order, to clarify, sometimes to suspect, and always to celebrate the world of the old book, the Guild presents itself today as a circle of independent bibliophiles, gathered around a common ethic: love of the text, rigour of examination, and a healthy irony toward the failings of the contemporary bibliophilic market.

The Guild has neither official premises nor uniform (though the grey coat and the loupe on a chain are tolerated). It operates in the discreet shadow of private libraries, old catalogues and notices that are too well turned.

We, bibliophiles, free men, stubborn scholars, patented satirists, declare the existence of the Guild, an independent body, benevolent but intransigent, devoted to the critical and burlesque surveillance of the bibliophilic world.

We shall act without hatred, without dogma, without complaint, but with methodical slowness, a precise eye and a sharpened pen.

Official affiliation. The Guild acts in direct connection with the General Inspectorate of the Printed Book (IGLI), of which it constitutes the operational arm in the public and critical sphere. The IGLI, a body of bibliographic control with cross-cutting competences, supplies the Guild with the means of its missions: reports, archiving, validation, documentation.

Motto.

“Between the first edition and the first illusion, there is the Guild.”

Founding manifesto (extract).

We, founding members of the Guild, declare:

That the world of the old book deserves a gaze at once passionate and vigilant;

That so-called “original” editions are not always so;

That the deluxe printing (tirage de tête) is sometimes a printing gone awry (tirage de travers);

That erudition excludes neither humour nor suspicion;

…and that it is fitting, consequently, to institute a Guild, composed of lucid amateurs, fastidious aesthetes and volunteer bibliophile investigators.

Methodology. A rigorous tone, but never a heavy one. Irony allowed, but argued. Precise references, where possible. Enlightened suspicion, always.

Editorial programme to come. A series of confidential IGLI reports, from the pen of its inspectors (we are obliged to); in-depth articles on bibliophilic subjects; outside contributions by guest bibliophiles (among them Octave Uzanne); critical studies of notices, catalogues, trends; bibliophilic tales; the adventures of Gabriel Varennes; temporal chronicles by Alcide Raturon, bibliophile; an index of forgotten books; articles from the cabinet of parallel elegances; notebooks of bibliophilic observation; clinical reports; a register of false authors and true pseudonyms; and so on.

The Guild does not seek to exclude, but to understand.
It does not judge, it enlightens.
And when it suspects, it is always with the book open, and never quite seriously.

Conclusion. The Guild promises neither indulgence nor rest. Every false luxury, every embellished date, every abusive mention will be noted, classified and, if necessary, mocked with method. But let no one be mistaken: this vigilance was not born of the mere taste for order. It comes also from a deep tenderness for the book, for its readers, and for those passionate bibliophiles, at times absent-minded, who, by their errors as by their finds, feed the great comedy of the printed paper.

“Between the first edition and the first illusion, there is the Guild.”

Hold on to your margins.

Paul Mandebois, President.

La lettre du bibliophile

Si cette chronique vous a plu : recevez trois nouvelles par semaine — livres rares, reliures, enchères, et les Dossiers IGLI. 18 ans d'archives, quelques milliers de lecteurs.

Pas de pub, pas de revente de données. Désabonnement en un clic.

À lire ensuite

IGLI Clinical Files: Thierry B., the Man Who Counted the Books He Did Not Buy

Dear bibliophiles, good day.

Special Zoobibliological Surveillance Service — General Inspectorate of the Printed Book (IGLI)

By Doctor Fulbert de Cuirac, sworn veterinarian of printed entities, expert to the Bureau of Abnormal Manifestations of the Book, commissioned for owner-adhesion disorders and heraldic-bibliological rejection phenomena.

The service received a written declaration, made spontaneously, in the margin of a fable that M. Philibert Cramoisi published on Facebook. It is reproduced here in full, without correction or cut:

“I keep up, with application, in a little Exacompta notebook, the exact count of all the books I do not buy. And well, imagine, Monsieur Cramoisi, that for the year 2026 alone I have bought only 10 and let 1795 get away. Which makes exactly 1795 regrets.”

— Thierry B., 26 August 2026.

M. Cramoisi forwarded the item to the service, rightly judging that it belonged less to fable than to clinical practice.

Mlle Lépine having copied the item into the register, the service examined its terms. Four call for comment.

“with application” — the subject himself qualifies his diligence, and qualifies it favorably. He does not report a failing: he reports a bearing. The service stresses the complete absence of shame, the usual marker of settled forms.

“a little Exacompta notebook” — the precision of the brand is deliberate. The subject did not take a diary, nor a notebook, nor one of those Moleskine notebooks in which amateurs record their desires. He took a trade ledger, ruled in columns. He does not confide. He keeps the accounts.

“let get away” — hunting vocabulary. The verb supposes that the quarry was within reach, that it moved, and that it left. The service observes that the subject does not say given up on, or set aside, or judged too expensive: he describes 1,795 escapes.

“exactly 1795 regrets” — this is where the declaration tips over. The subject no longer counts books, he counts regrets.

Observations. Over the 239 days elapsed of the 2026 financial year: volumes acquired, 10; volumes let get away, 1,795; total volumes examined, 1,805.

The rate of renunciation stands at 7.5 volumes a day, Sundays included. The residual half-volume has been carried to the account of the odd volumes.

The acquisition ratio is 1 to 179.5. The service knows of no living collection in the département with a rejection rate of that height; the books would not survive in it. That is precisely what held our attention.

Mlle Lépine raised, with the firmness for which she is known, an objection of procedure.

The register of entries admits only entities furnished with a shelfmark. Now the 1,795 volumes of the notebook have entered no collection, have received no bookplate, and have been the object of no owner adhesion. They have neither spine, nor shelf, nor owner. They fall under no jurisdiction known to the service. This library of regrets is a non-library.

After examination, the Bureau rules as follows.

A book that is regretted, dated, numbered and carried in a column exists sufficiently to fall under our jurisdiction. These entities will be classed under the denomination libri praetermissi — the volumes passed over — and will open a separate series in the register. The shelfmark will be assigned to them without any indication of location, the box remaining empty.

Mlle Lépine signed, adding in pencil in the margin that she carried it out but did not share it. The service places the note on file.

Diagnosis. Neurosis bibliocomputatrix privativa — privative computational neurosis, benign form, slow course.

Not to be confused with ordinary bibliomania, of which it is the exact reverse. The bibliomaniac accumulates what he owns and ruins himself. The subject accumulates what he does not own and spends nothing. His non-library counts 1,795 volumes that he does not have.

Sub-Inspector Peutre, in charge of the on-site report, points out that this is to date the only collection in the département posing no conservation problem: no dust, no acidification, no foxing, no worms, no humidity-control requirement, no shelving, no disputed estate. The service acknowledges the remark as exact and judges it misplaced.

Prognosis and recommendations. The prognosis is favorable, subject to the following reservations.

1. The notebook will be maintained. The service warns against any well-meant attempt by the subject’s circle to do away with it: the uncounted regret does not disappear.

2. The subject Thierry B. is prescribed to acquire, within 6 months, 1 volume drawn at random from those he has let get away, and to record its effect. The service wishes to determine whether possession relieves or aggravates. It inclines toward aggravation.

3. At the observed rate, the pagination of the Exacompta will be exhausted before the winter of 2031. The service recommends opening a second volume now and having it bound in calf, so that the collection of the absent has at least a spine.

VISA

Dr. Fulbert de Cuirac, sworn veterinarian of printed entities — examination and diagnosis
Mlle Berthe Lépine, at the register — subject to the reservation entered in the margin
Sub-Inspector Achille Peutre — on-site report and verification of the columns
For the Guild of Bibliopolices.

Shelfmark: IGLI/SSSZ/CI/[N] — Libri praetermissi

Document classified: restricted circulation — Guild IGLI.
Reproduction discouraged on gummed paper unless necessary.

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