This is going to be a hybrid musing. It is going to reflect two of my book collecting passions, private press books and bookplates. The private press to be featured is the Fanfrolico Press, of which we have most of their titles in our personal library. The bookplate interest is featuring the bookplates that can be found in some of the Fanfrolico books, and these demonstrate part of the provenance of these books, mostly first-time owners, I would think.
In 2020, I wrote a musing on private presses featuring several of them including Fanfrolico. I will start this musing by pasting in the overview of the press from that musing. Then, I will have pairings of photos – a copy of the bookplate and a copy of the Fanfrolico title page from a few of the books in our collection.
I have been collecting Fanfrolico books for several decades. They were operational from the 1920s into the 1930s. The publisher was Jack Lindsay who was the eldest son of one of Australia’s most revered and controversial artists, Norman Lindsay. The first few titles were produced in Australia and then young Jack, together with P. R. Stephensen, were off to London. A large portion of their works were translations of Greek classics such as “Lysistrata by Aristophanes” and “The Metamorphosis of Ajax”.
The attraction of these books, in addition to the fine papers, fonts and bindings were the exquisite/risqué illustrations by Norman Lindsay.
Here is a brief outline of the 1994 movie “Sirens” that centred upon Norman Lindsay. In 1930s Australia, Anglican clergyman Anthony Campion (Hugh Grant) and his prim wife, Estella (Tara Fitzgerald), are asked to visit noted painter Norman Lindsay (Sam Neill), whose planned contribution to an international art exhibit is considered blasphemous. While Campion and Lindsay debate, Estella finds herself drawn to the three beautiful models sitting for the painter's current work, freethinking Sheela (Elle Macpherson), sensual Pru (Kate Fischer) and shy Giddy
(Portia De Rossi).


This is a wonderful association of the artist featured in the book and its owner, because the bookplate was not only created by Norman Lindsay but initialled as well. Obviously, Norman knew Bertha. The bookplate itself is a very interesting work of art. I imagine that collectors of Norman Lindsay’s works would also endeavour to obtain copies of all of his bookplates. (Just like I try to get copies of all of Beresford Egan’s bookplates – without much luck I must say and not for a lack of trying)


This is another interesting association copy. This was one of the early publications printed in Australia. And as evident from the bookplate the owner must be Australian, as well. There is a presentation inscription in the book where the printer of the book, John Kirtley, gave the book to Walter Stone who was also an Australian printer, and a book collector as well. This book is extremely scarce, most copies were never bound or issued and are now lost.


Here is a later printing of the same title, done in London, with a much less dramatic title page. I have no idea who Atmore Beach was, but he is one of the rare book collectors who used leather bookplates.


This is a seriously dramatic bookplate with a brooding figure complete with a skull and headless body to his right. Whoever he was he had an impressing collection, a portion thereof sold at Christies. He had the right version of this title - #8 of 25 printed on vellum. Most Fanfrolico books were limited editions with a small number printed on vellum, with the latter priced somewhat higher then and now.


This is one of the most beautiful bookplates I have ever seen, and I am so happy to have it in our collection. A google search coughed up a wedding announcement in the Brooklyn Life issue of September 24, 1921, where her brother was getting married. She was one of the bridesmaids. With references to manor houses and mansions and the attire and decorations, it is safe to say that Pauline M. Parisette came from the upper echelons of society. But you can tell that from the high quality of the resolution in the bookplate, created in 1932. John William Jameson (1882-1939) was a noted illustrator and exlibris artist.



The reader might ask why are there 3 photos here. I never realized the oddity until I picked up the look earlier today. The name of the publisher does not appear on the title page! It is on the verso, as you can see in the photos. I have not seen this before in any book printed in the last two hundred years.
The bookplate is interesting as well. Someone has written “British Royalty Bookplate” along the top of the bookplate. I don’t think this was the case. The current Viscount Rothermere is only No. 4. The title started with Harold Sidney Harmsworth, 1st Viscount Rothermere, PC (26 April 1868 – 26 November 1940) who was a leading British newspaper proprietor who owned Associated Newspapers Ltd. He is best known, like his brother Alfred Harmsworth, later Viscount Northcliffe, for the development of the Daily Mail and the Daily Mirror. Rothermere was a pioneer of popular tabloid journalism, and his descendants continue to control the Daily Mail and General Trust. Not royalty in my books – fosterer of those who hound the Royals. Pretty bookplate, though.
My Muse, Sabrina
Sabrina lives on the shoreline of St. Margarets Bay, Nova Scotia. She has been there for a long,
long time. She doesn’t get around much, but she enjoys being in the salt water. She changes her hair style twice a day and changes her glasses to fit the weather conditions and her temperament.
I walked past Sabrina almost every day for the past twenty some years, first with Gryphon and then with Freyja, our wonderful Belgian Shepherds. Now, I walk by Sabrina by myself.
She started to reach out to me just over the past couple of years. I started to stop and look at her beautiful hair and she started to respond to my attention by planting thoughts in my head. Good thoughts, encouraging thoughts, stimulating thoughts, influential thoughts. She has become my muse. Although, I must confess some days she is stone-faced and refuses to talk to me. Thankfully, not often.
