1. Le Petit Journal des Refusées was a one-issue magazine published in 1896 in San Francisco by Gelett Burgess and Porter Garnett.
2. It was printed on old wallpaper in varying colors and cut into a trapezoidal shape, making no two copies identical. It was part of a trend of eccentric "freak magazines" in the 1890s.
3. While only one issue was published, it was representative of these small magazines, known as "ephemeral bibelots," that shared an aesthetic of outrageousness and relied on references to similar publications for their effect.
1. Le Petit Journal des Refusées was a one-issue magazine published in 1896 in San Francisco by Gelett Burgess and Porter Garnett.
2. It was printed on old wallpaper in varying colors and cut into a trapezoidal shape, making no two copies identical. It was part of a trend of eccentric "freak magazines" in the 1890s.
3. While only one issue was published, it was representative of these small magazines, known as "ephemeral bibelots," that shared an aesthetic of outrageousness and relied on references to similar publications for their effect.
Original Description:
Original Title
Brad Evans, Introduction to Le Petit Journal Des Refusées
1. Le Petit Journal des Refusées was a one-issue magazine published in 1896 in San Francisco by Gelett Burgess and Porter Garnett.
2. It was printed on old wallpaper in varying colors and cut into a trapezoidal shape, making no two copies identical. It was part of a trend of eccentric "freak magazines" in the 1890s.
3. While only one issue was published, it was representative of these small magazines, known as "ephemeral bibelots," that shared an aesthetic of outrageousness and relied on references to similar publications for their effect.
1. Le Petit Journal des Refusées was a one-issue magazine published in 1896 in San Francisco by Gelett Burgess and Porter Garnett.
2. It was printed on old wallpaper in varying colors and cut into a trapezoidal shape, making no two copies identical. It was part of a trend of eccentric "freak magazines" in the 1890s.
3. While only one issue was published, it was representative of these small magazines, known as "ephemeral bibelots," that shared an aesthetic of outrageousness and relied on references to similar publications for their effect.
Brad Evans, Rutgers University IT HAS come at last the acme of paretic publications in the form of Le Petit Journal des Refuses. It hails from San Francisco, the hatching-place of the Lark, but it goes that feather-brained fowl several better in the line of idiotic eccentricities. It purports to be the organ of all the horrid, three-named women whose productions have been refused elsewhere. While modestly calling attention to the fact that the idea of publishing Rejected Manuscripts originated with THE BAUBLE many moons ago, I may generously concede that L. P. J. des R. has printed much worse stuff than I dared to perpetrate. In addition, it is dished up with the most outrageously grotesque designs on choice wall paper, the gures of which show plainly beneath the text. This beats Thomas B. Moshers hand-made, deckle-edge effects, and marks the limit of eccentricity in typographic artlessness. The Bauble 3:1 (October, 1896) The afche heralding Le Petit Journal des Refuses, is one of the most terrifying up to date. Printed in yellow, purple and green, a writhing wreath of humanity surrounds the announcement behind which are ranged assorted Frights from a Roentgen to a Beardsley. In the foreground is a gure which may be Greek art trampled upon by Modernity, or Imperial Caesar dead and turned to clay, or even Trees Hamlet at the pleasure of the observer. The new quarterly which this poster posts, and which will appear on the rst of June, is, it is claimed, more artistic than a Bicycle catalogue, more ingenious than The Lark, weird as a Hasheesh Dream or a Circus Dodger, an Impossible Literary Prodigy! In this day of the Apotheosis of Freak and Fad, it is indeed an audacious Editor who attempts to out-Herod Herod in this line. But the Redacteur of Le Petit Journal calmly sees and raises all existing Toy magazines and parodies their matter and manner. The Journal is printed on wall-paper, cut bias and hemmed; every copy on a different pattern. These wall-owers of literature are described as the sensation of the century, and will doubtless be a blooming success. The Echo 3:3 (1896) Published out of San Francisco by Gelett Burgess and Porter Garnett, Le Petit Journal des Refuses was almost certainly the most eccentric of hundreds of proto- modernist little magazines published across the United States in the 1890s. It was only sixteen pages in length and only one issue was ever publishedin the summer of 1896. Printed on old wallpaper, not a single edition was exactly the same, varying widely in 2 color from mostly black and white with decorative perforations to brilliant gold, various greens, and even a startling purple (Image 1). It was cut in an odd, trapezoidal shape, which Joanna Drucker has wittily described as being designed to make it stand out in any library, tipping forward off the shelf on its angled pages. Its shape destabilizes the object, as she writes, setting it apart from the upright stance of better- behaved publications, which knew how to stand straight on shelves. 1
When opened up, it looks rather like a buttery, which is tting metaphorically since Le Petit Journal des Refuses was nothing if not a social buttery (Image 2). It was a nonsensical romp of inside jokes shared with its sister magazine, the Lark, and other exemplars of the craze for the so-called freak magazines. Burgesss later brag, that the PJR was destined to become the reductio ad absurdum of the freak journal, would seem to have been spot on. 2
While remarkable because of its uniquenessthere really is nothing else quite like it in the world of the American n-de-sicleLe Petit Journal des Refuses is also Image 1. Since it was printed on old wallpaper, not a single copy of Le Petit Journal des Refuses is alike. Here is a purple copy from Harvards Houghton Library. AC9.B9125.896pb (A). 3 representative of the entire class of these magazines to the extent that it makes very little sense on its own. The effect of its outrageousness depends upon the relays it strikes with its sister publications. (It would be a prime candidate, today, for a project that would take advantage of public hyper-linkingperhaps something to be considered by the Modernist Journals Project). And because it is so very much a publication dependent upon the social fabric of the bohemian, ne art networks of the period, the PJR usefully highlights both the contours of the proto-modernist little magazine movement in the United States in the late 1890s, and also the manner in which modernist journals emerged internationally as a group phenomenon. PJR and the Freak Journals of the 1890s What does it mean to think of Le Petit Journal des Refuses as a magazinelittle, modernist, or otherwise? It was not a serial publication, only one issue ever seeing the Image 2. The PJR took on the trapezoidal shape of the social buttery, embodying its status as the reductio ad absurdum of the freak journal. 4 light of day, nor does it appear that there were ever plans for another. It also comes up short on denitional grounds in that it did not publish works by a variety of authors, but rather appears to have been entirely the work of Burgess and Garnett. In distinguishing its type, it is worth noting that, unlike most magazines, the cultural inuence of this one can neither be judged by the longevity of its print run, nor by the breadth of its circulation statistics, nor by the reputation of its contributors. It was not a distribution mechanism for works of art, literature, opinion and news; but rather, it was an aesthetic and comedic end in itself. Properly speaking, it is more a book or a pamphlet than a magazine, or perhaps more properly still, and a bit more adventurously, we could call it a self-contained objet dart (semi-mass produced), if one lacking in the pretentions normally associated with such things. It is in part because of its classicatory oddity that Ive adopted the practice of an early bibliographer of this entire class of publications, Frederick Faxon, who in 1903 gathered them together under the title ephemeral bibelotstransitory little art book-things. 3
But then, of course, the PJR did position itself as a magazine, a petit journal, albeit in a parodic mode; and it was understood quite broadly as such by other magazine editors. The contradiction of this act of self-naming is worth pondering because it helps expand the eld of its relations. Its relations to the other ephemeral bibelots was apparent from the start. The rst announcement of Le Petit Journal des Refuses came in October 1895, in an advertisement Burgess penned for his marginally less ephemeral journal, the Lark (a little magazine that, itself, only ran for two years, 24 issues plus a valedictorian extra number Burgess called the Epilark). As editor of the Lark, and leader of a coterie of San 5 Francisco bohemians that included most of his co-authors in that undertaking, Burgess was one of the more visible artists involved with the bibelot craze, and the PJR was only one of many similarly ephemeral journals he spun off from the Lark (Image 3). The initial announcement was a call for articles that situated the PJR in this eld: It will be the smallest and most extraordinary magazine in existence. It will be printed on Black paper with Yellow ink. The margins will be very, very wide, the cover almost impossible. The rates for insertion of prose articles will be only ve dollars a page; poetry ten dollars a page; but no manuscript will be accepted unless accompanied by a letter of regret at not being able to nd the same available, from some leading magazine. No manuscripts will be refused. Terms are cash, invariably in advance. 4
Two numbers later, in January 1896, Burgess brought it up alongside another of his satirical journals, a magazine he called, in a play on the lark, the Nightingale. In a later issue, the Lark published a blurb about the PJR that had appeared in the Chap- Book, the most well-known of the American little magazines in this class, which mentions it in the context of a bibelot Burgess was calling LArkitecture Moderne: Image 3. Gelett Burgess in the Editorial Room of The Lark: note all the other freak magazines littering the oor, including, front and center, the PJR. Photo credit Princeton University Library. 6 That one can fool all the people some of the time was well proven in the rst numbers of THE LARK, and its miraculous survival as clearly demonstrates the fact that one may fool some of the people all the time. But the audacious attempt made by its publisher in the PJdR, and now in LArkitecture Moderne, to fool all the people all the time, will surely shipwreck les Jeunes, none of whom, by the way, are under fty. 5 Les Jeunes, it should be noted, was a moniker that Burgess and his fellow artists had adopted after a misprint in the New York Times, which had meant to say that the color jaune was like the Chinese paper on which the Lark was printed. By way of that fortuitous misunderstanding, les jeunes/jaunes may also have evoked The Yellow Book, whose decadence was being both mocked and emulated. And, as we will see, it almost certainly pointed to several youth art movements situated around ephemeral journals in France. The point is that Le Petit Journal des Refuses was launched in what Garnett and Burgess surely understood to be a churning sea of similarly bizarre bibelots, a point carried home when we note that Burgess produced two others in the 1890s as well, Phyllida, or The Milkmaid and Enfant Terrible (Image 4). While all of these publications varied widely in style, the essence of their artistry depended upon the vibe Image 4. Shortly after moving to New York, Burgess brought out Enfant Terrible!, which had a similarly ephemeral runonly one number ever being published. Notice the goops on deck. Photo credit Princeton University Library. 7 set up by the reverberations between them, and thus it is no surprise that they are much given over to elaborate lines of citation and punning. The longest piece in the PJR, running four pages, is the abecedarius, Our Clubbing List, which serves as something like a highlight tour of the American bibelots: C is for Chap-book, the pater familias/Of magazines started by many a silly ass; F is for Freak: see the great exposition/Of freak magazines5 and 10 cents admission; R is for Rubbish: are you looking for some?/ Just open the Bauble and put down your thumb; V is for Versication and Verse;/We thought Chips was bad, but the Olios worse; Z is for Zounds! What unspeakable deco-/Rativeness Bradley has furnished for Images 5 & 6: Two of the ephemeral bibelots blurbed by Burgess in the PJRs longest piece of writing, Our Clubbing List. Photo credits Princeton University Library. 8 Echo (Images 5 and 6). Between 1895 and 1903, close to three hundred little magazines of this kind were published in the United States, their titles reading like self-fullling prophecies of their ephemeral appearance: Chips (1895-1896), the Echo (1895-1897), the Fad (1896-1897), the Fly-Leaf (1895-1896), Impressions (1900-1903), Jabs (1901-1903), A Little Spasm (1901), the Pebble (1900-1901), the Shadow (1896), Snap Shots (1901), and Whims (1896). The literary establishment of the time wrote off the entire class of these publications. As a very brief notice in the Critic suggests in 1897, not one of them [fad journals] had an excuse for being, and most of them ceased to be ere they had fairly been: The Lark, that wings its ight from San Francisco, has for its distinction that it introduced the Purple Cow into art. It has done other things quite as bad, but it will always be known as the inventor of the Purple Cow. After all, if there is such a freak in literature as a Yellow Book, why should there not be such a freak of nature as a Purple Cow? One does not look to a Purple Cow for milk, nor to a Yellow Book for anything but yellowness. 6 Another critic was Frank Norris, the naturalist writer who was friends with Burgess and Garnett, and an intimate of the bohemian scene in San Francisco. Despite this fact, he published a screed against them in 1897, notable for the masculinist language of heroism for which naturalism is well-known: Yes, there are Les Jeunes, and The Lark was delightful delightful, fooling, but theres a graver note and more virile to be sounded. Les Jeunes can do better than The Lark. Give us stories now, give us men, strong brutal men, with red-hot blood in em, with unleashed passions rampant in em, blood and bones and viscera in em, and women, too, that move and have their being, people that love and hate something better now than Vivettes and Perilles and Goops [these being direct references to ctional characters and cartoon gures in the Lark]. 7 9 In the seminal book on the modernist little magazines, Hoffman, Allen and Ulrich take the same course in writing off the ephemeral bibelots, suggesting that they were of little interest when compared to the little magazines of the 1910s and 1920s. 8
The reputation of Le Petit Journal des Refuses may currently be on the rebound, as suggested not only by this edition at the MJP, but also by the availability of several others online and in print, as well as by the recent republication of writing by Burgess. 9
However, the cultivated aura of its ephemerality remains of central importance. With respect to the PJR, perhaps Burgesss most telling accomplishment was to have coined the word blurb in 1906 (Image 7). By that time, he had left San Francisco for New Image 7. Dust jacket for Burgesss Are You a Bromide; or The Sulphitic Theory (1906), in which he coined the term blurb. The Library of Congress. http://hdl.loc.gov/loc.rbc/rbpe.24203600 10 York and turned his attention from publishing bibelots to writing novels. Today, in addition to his nonsensical quatrain The Purple Cow, Burgess is most remembered for some stylistically distinct drawings of elliptical goops, which in the early 1900s migrated out of the Lark and onto the pages of a series of illustrated childrens books on manners, starting with Goops and How to Be Them in 1900, and followed by a comic strip in the 1920s (Image 8). Retrospectively, however, it is Burgesss coinage of the blurb that seems best to describe the impossible literary prodigiousness of Le Petit Journal des Refuses. His bibelot elaborated what we might even think of as the art of the blurbnot something permanent, but an eccentric citational aesthetic, as demonstrated in Our Clubbing List, that in many ways dened the pleasure of the bibelot movement to be that of making unexpected, and occasionally mind-altering, connections. Image 8. From The Lark. Photo credit Princeton University Library. 11 An International Movement: On Circulation The most intriguing of the bibelots featured stunning post-impressionist graphic arts, experimental short stories and prose poems, and acerbic commentary on topics ranging from aesthetic fashions to politics and social mores. 10 But their real interest emerges only when they are considered as part of a group phenomenon, and particularly to the extent that they stand in more broadly for something like the emergence of an anti- realist, modern, n-de-sicle aestheticismindeed, as the progenitors of a kind of aesthetic public sphere that comes to characterize the avant-garde. Works like the PJR are particularly interesting objects with which to reconsider not only the historical period, but also the signicant role that patterns of circulation played in cultural production. What we are looking at with the parodic intertextuality of the PJR is a prime example of a highly specialized, tightly organized circulation network that spread along paths running parallel to, but not interconnected with, more established print culture. And whereas one might be tempted to think of it in terms of experiment and innovation, the PJR reminds us of something about the avant-garde in general, namely that its newness frequently emerges from particularly tight-knit, highly recursive publics. When I reviewed Druckers work on the facsimile edition of the PJR put out by Rice in 2009, my focus was on the manner in which Garnett and Burgess seem to have anticipated certain characteristics of high modernism, and especially their apparently proto-Dadaistic tendencies. 11 Some particularly prominent examples are the Corinthian columns wearing eyeglasses and imps with African masks decorating the border of What Smith Tried to Believe (Image 9). Perhaps even more to the point, however, is the parodic premise of the magazine itselfthat everything it published had been rejected by 12 at least three other magazines (often fake ones). My point was to suggest that bibelots like the PJR were part of a group movement engaged in reimagining the shape and character of the aesthetic public sphere, and that they served as an unacknowledged catalyst to the modernist avant- garde. To be refused not only distinguished the content of the PJR from the mainstream press, but initiated the relays between the bibelot and other delightfully obscure fad magazines. In the same way, being refused set the stage for Duchamps Fountain in 1917, a refusal that was also staged, it is crucial to remember, in an ephemeral journal. 12
If Le Petit Journal des Refuses points ahead to high modernism, it also encourages a long overdue investigation back to the second half of the nineteenth century, and in particular to the question of what the modern meant to nineteenth-century American artists. In this respect, it directs us mostly to n-de-sicle Paris. The title recalls the well- known Salon des Refuss of 1863, where Manets ground-breaking painting, Le Dejeuner sur lherbe, was displayedalongside, let us not forget, the American James Whistlers Image 9. African masks and columns with glasses in the PJR, anticipating the preoccupations of high modernism by a decade or more. 13 Symphony in White, No. 1: The White Girl. The PJR also points us, just as explicitly, to Pariss own wave of enthusiasm for ephemeral bibelots. The border decoration in the PJR surrounding The Ghost of a Flea, probably the bibelots most astounding piece of writing, is an immediately recognizable reference to the saucer-eyed cats drawn for the famous Montmartre cabaret, Le Chat Noir, and its seminal little magazine of the same name, Le Chat Noir (1882-1895) (Images 10 and 11). Garnett and Burgesss repurposing of this particular chat noir points uswispily, without high stakes but with some delightfrom the PJR in the direction of the French revues ephmres. If we thus get ourselves quite quickly over to Paris from the pages of the PJR, we might also move back in time just a bit to the precursors of the Chat Noir journal, which Images 10 & 11. The black cats populating the margins of Le Petit Journal des Refuses referred directly to those made familiar to bohemian insiders by the Parisian cabaret, Le Chat Noir, and its eponymous journal, Le Chat Noir, perhaps the most signicant catalyst to the fad for ephemeral bibelots in the United States in the 1890s. The masthead was illustrated by Henri Pille. 14 seem just as striking in their suggestion of the aesthetic orientation of a group movement. For example, the rst editor of Le Chat Noir was Emile Goudeau, who, rather like Burgess, only a decade earlier, had delighted in the format of the bibelot. Founder and organizer of a loose association of Parisian artists, writers, musicians, dramatists and students known as the Hydropathes, a movement of les jeunes in revolt against cynicism and stagnation in the arts, Goudeau edited a journal, LHydropathe (1879-1880), which had much in common with the PJR (Image 12). It was largely a promotional magazine, blurbing the activities and successes of various of the Hydropathesone of whom was featured, in caricature, on every cover. The signicance of the Hydropathes to Le Petit Journal des Refuses is that they helped develop an acerbic parodic style known as le fumisme, which in the words of Georges Fragerolle was devoted to cutting open the smug sky under which we liveagain, a term aptly applied to the PJR. 13 Shortly before LHydropathe, Andr Gill had initiated a series of similarly ephemeral, fumiste reviews. These included La Lune (1865-67), which upon being censored in 1867 metamorphosed into LEclipse (1868-1876), then La Lune Rousse Image 12. Emile Goudeau, gracing the rst cover of LHydropathe, 29 January 1879. http:// babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=inu. 30000093385262 15 (1876-79), and nally La Petite Lune (1878-79) (Images 13-14). Gill was also involved with the Hydropathes, and, later, with a group of young artists calling themselves the Incohrentsa group which organized several expositions of les Arts Incohrents around Paris and its suburbs between 1882 and 1887. 14
It is certainly no stretch to think of the output of Burgess in terms of a similar incohrence. All of these magazines and related movements were involved in redening the aesthetic public sphere out of which, later, Dada took shape; and they would seem to have everything to do with the kind of n-de-sicle modernity staged on the pages of the PJR, the Lark, and other ephemeral bibelots in the United States in the 1890s. Images 13 & 14. Two of Andr Gills ephemeral reviews from the 1860s and 1870s, La Lune, http://digi.ub.uni-heidelberg.de/diglit/lune1865/0005; and its successor, La Petite Lune, http://it.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Darwin_as_monkey_on_La_Petite_Lune.jpg 16 As Mary Shaw has noted when commenting on related material in France, it is not surprising that much of this work and most of its authors have been forgotten or overlooked by literary history. To the extent that parodic markers of the avant-garde functioned as signposts of an elite, self-dening community of writers and readers, the references of the most prominent and aggressive writers tended to become increasingly obscure to the uninitiated. Shaw suggests that when rediscovered today, this material captures our attention less because of the particular merits of a certain writers work than because of the works manifestation of a given writers inextricable involvement with the general spirit of these avant-garde groupswhich in part explains my focus on context here, with the craze for ephemeral bibelots being almost as interesting as the content of any particular exemplar. 15 PJR and the Digital Archive A smashing, purple copy of Le Petit Journal des Refuses at Harvards Houghton Library contains the following hand-written note from Burgess to the librarys benefactor, Thomas Newell Metcalf: 16 Scituate, Mass, July 21 st , 1904 My dear Metcalf; I dont wonder that you thought that the P.J.R. must have gone astray, after my having written especially for your address. You would hardly imagine that such a thing as the mere lack of wrapping paper would prevent my sending the magazine, but that is what I have been waiting for. And now, maddeningly enough, I cannot nd the original copy, and have to send this one, which I post under separate cover. I had another, slightly more legible, but perhaps you can make this one out. It is perhaps more bizarre than the other. I am rather ashamed of the thing, now, except as a proof that I have been as mad as anyone of my age, and have in my day spent a whole 17 month being foolish enough to try to break the record for silliness. This book makes me blush, and yet, to understand it, you must take into account the riot of foolish magazinelets then prevalent. This was a reductio ad absurdum. Take it with apologies, and compliments from Yours faithfully, Signed Gelett Burgess The note raises two key points. The rst concerns the faddishness of the fad for ephemeral bibelots. By 1900, Burgess, the main creative force behind the PJR, had moved from San Francisco to New York and given up magazine editing. He turned to writing books both for adults and children, publishing twenty-ve largely forgotten volumes before his death in 1951. While never a less than bizarre author, he did write for more mainstream venues, including the Century, St. Nicholas, Life, and Harpers Bazaar. An article of his published in the Architectural Record in 1910, The Wild Men of Paris, is said to have introduced Picasso, Matisse, and Braque to readers in the United States. 17
The New York Times ran an obituary for him, crediting him for contributing blurb and goops to the language and for his poem The Purple Cow. He did not, however, continue on with the riot of foolish magazinelets. That fad, as he wrote in the Epilark in 1897, anticipating things by ve or six years, was almost over now: But the war is almost over now, and the little wasp-like privateers that have swarmed the seas of Journalism are nearly all silenced; the freak eet has disarmed, but who knows how many are missing? Not a port but gave help to the uprising and mustered its volunteers in the ght against Convention. It was a tea-pot tempest that made them and wrecked them, and yet, when the history of the Nineteenth Century decadence is written, these tiny eruptions of revolt, these pamphleteering amateurs cannot remain unnoticed, for their outbreak was a symptom of the discontent of the times, a wide-felt protest of emancipation from the dictates of the old literary tribunals. Little enough good has come of it that one can see at present, but the sedition is broached, and the next rebellion may have more blood to spill. 18 18 Burgess assessment was not entirely accurate. If the rst wave of ephemeral bibelots in the United States died down by 1898, a second wave took shape by 1902, although it, too, only lasted for a couple years. The point, however, is that the fad was a fad. Part of the aesthetic frisson of these early little magazines depended on their ephemeralityon the sense they developed of being precisely in and of the moment, and also, because of it, rather impossible to grasp. This refashioning of the fad as a kind of modern art, and of the bibelots as tiny eruptions of revolt, is, in and of itself, propitious of things to come. The second point concerns the current archiving of Le Petit Journal des Refuses, which presents certain challenges to the extent that there is no single denitive copy of the bibelot. The issue is not, simply, that it was printed on differently colored pieces of wallpaper. There were also two different versions of the magazine, with varying pagination and contentboth of which are (or soon will be) available here at the Modernist Journals Project. Presumably it is to this difference that Burgess refers in the letter to Metcalf when complaining of being unable to locate the original copy. My suggestion would be that we try to hold onto a mental sense of the two versions of the PJR simultaneously, as well as to the idea of a few hundred copies of the journal all in different colors, all of these circulating through the bohemian networks of n-de-sicle America. It could be useful to imagine each of them pointing back to the others. Our eyes circulating between the different editions of Le Petit Journal des Refuses might initiate us to the fumiste sensibility of circulation out of bounds. It seems altogether appropriate that the denitive edition of the PJR will remain, always, just out of reach. 1 Johanna Drucker, Bohemian by Design: Gelett Burgess and Le Petit Journal des Refuses, afterword to Frank Gelett Burgess, Le Petit Journal des Refuses, Facsimile Edition (Houston: Rice University Press, 2009). Drucker has published another excellent article on the subject, Le Petit Journal des Refuses: A Graphical Reading, Victorian Poetry 48:1 (Spring 2010) 137-169. I have written of the PJR in my review of Druckers work in The Journal of Modern Periodical Studies 1:2 (2010) 229-241. 2 Gelett Burgess, Bayside Bohemia: Fin de sicle San Francisco and its Little Magazines (San Francisco: The Book Club of California, 1954), 26. 3 A PDF of Faxons volume, Ephemeral Bibelots: A Bibliography of the Modern Chap- Books and Their Imitators (1903), can be found here at the MJP: http:// dl.lib.brown.edu/mjp/render.php?id=mjp.2005.00.093&view=mjp_object. 4 The Lark 6 (October 1895), 7. 5 The Lark 10 (February 1896), 16. 6 The Critic, Number 776 (1897), 12. 7 Frank Norris, An Opening for Novelists, the Wave, May 22, 1897; rpt. in Frank Norris, Novels and Essays (New York: Library of America, 1986) 1112-1114, 1113. See D. B. Graham, Studio Art in The Octopus, American Literature 44:4 (1973), pp. 657-666. 8 Frederick Hoffman, Chales Allen, and Carolyn Ulrich, The Little Magazine: A History and a Bibliography (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1947). 9 The edition edited by Johanna Drucker is available in print and online at http://cnx.org/ content/m24322/latest/?collection=col10709/latest. Harvards copy of the PJR can be accessed at: http://pds.lib.harvard.edu/pds/view/25286045. For the most recent Burgess reprint, see the volume edited by Alfred Jan, A Gelett Burgess Sampler: Ethics and Aesthetics (Create Space, 2012). 10 My general introduction to this class of publication can be found in Ephemeral Bibelots in the 1890s, forthcoming in eds. Peter Brooker and Andrew Thacker, The Oxford Critical and Cultural History of Modernist Magazines, Vol. 2. Kirsten McLeod has also done excellent work with the bibelots in her article The Fine Art of Cheap Print: Turn-of-the-Century American Little Magazines, eds. Ann Ardis and Patrick Collier, Transatlantic Print Culture, 1880-1940: Emerging Media, Emerging Modernisms (NY: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008), 182-198. 11 See The Journal of Modern Periodical Studies 1:2 (2010) 229-241. 12 Duchamps Fountain was never exhibited; we only know the original by way of the famous Alfred Stieglitz photograph that was published in Duchamps ephemeral bibelot, the Blind Man, in 1917. 13 Georges Fragerolle, coupe[r] le ciel de prudhomie sous lequel nous vivons, quoted in Dennis Cate, The Spirit of Montmartre, in eds. Cate and Shaw, The Spirit of Montmartre, 1-94, 23. See also Daniel Grojnowski, Fumisteries: Naissance de lhumour moderne, 1870-1914 (Paris: Omnibus, 2009) 14 See Dennis Cate, especially pages 40-52. 15 Mary Shaw, All or Nothing? The Literature of Montmartre, in eds. Dennis Cate and Mary Shaw, The Spirit of Montmartre: Cabarets, Humor, and the Avant-Garde, 1875-1905 (New Brunswick: Jane Voorheis Zimmerli Art Museum, 1996), 111-158, 128, 130. 16 Metcalf edited the pulp magazine All Story in the 1910s and is remembered for having discovered Edgar Rice Burroughs. Harvards copy of the PJR can be accessed online here: http://pds.lib.harvard.edu/pds/view/25286045. 17 Burgess, The Wild Men of Paris, The Architectural Record, 1910. See http:// archrecord.construction.com/inthecause/0702MenOfParis/MenOfParis1.asp. 18 Gelett Burgess, in the Epilark (1897), 11.