We do not know how many copies Vollard sold. Vollard’s surviving sales ledgers are far from complete and give us very little to go on. They do, though, reveal that the price paid for a copy was usually around 70 francs, which means that the discount for a batch of a hundred copies that was sold for 1,500 francs in November 1923 was considerable.

The design of the book was clearly conceived with an eye to the bibliophile market; nowadays it is a collectors’ item. The typography is generous, with wide margins, a hundred reproductions of Van Gogh’s drawings, letter sketches and paintings in black and white and two colour reproductions ‘hors texte’. Forty copies were printed on Japanese paper. The cover, designed by Bernard, bears a simple ornament, the title and the publisher’s name in handwritten lettering, printed in orange and blue. The proportions within the text block are remarkable: just over eighty pages have been devoted to the texts of the letters, while the preliminary matter occupies seventy pages. It consists of a forty-three-page ‘Préface’ especially written for this edition by Bernard and four other articles by him about Van Gogh: the two introductions to the series of letters to Bernard and to Theo that had appeared in the Mercure de France, the 1895 introduction to an edition of the letters in book form that had come to nothing, and the essay on Van Gogh that had been published in Les hommes d’aujourd’hui.

Bernard wrote in his introduction that he was reproducing the letters in full, including the peculiarities of Van Gogh’s French and the sometimes improper language, which, he asserted, had often been prompted by drink.4848. Lettres à Bernard 1911, pp. 41-42. Nonetheless the text has been expurgated, either by replacing names with initials or with an X, or by rendering offensive or indelicate words simply by the initial letter followed by dots – the unintended result being to draw attention to such passages. Perhaps he felt that his friend’s memory required such corrections. But Bernard must also have been the source of another explanation, reported by Douglas Cooper in his English edition of these letters in 1938: ‘Bernard himself, it is true, wanted to publish the whole text, but at the last minute M. Vollard for personal reasons, partly on account of Degas, saw fit to omit several words, not to mention whole sentences and paragraphs.’4949. Letters to Bernard 1938, p. 7. Degas was a good customer of Vollard’s, and also published his prints through him. He must have known that Van Gogh had written unflatteringly about him in letter 655; the passage in question had already appeared in the Mercure de France of May 1893 (p. 12). There are other places where the Vollard text is not entirely accurate either, and Cooper included in his book a five-page list of ‘Emendations to the Published Text’ based on the original manuscripts.

The activities of the art lover and ‘art educationalist’ H.P. Bremmer had a major influence on the Van Gogh reception in the Netherlands. He published widely on Van Gogh, in the journals he ran, Moderne Kunstwerken (1903-1910) and Beeldende Kunst (1913-1938), and elsewhere.5252. In 1911 Bremmer published Vincent van Gogh. Inleidende beschouwingen (Amsterdam 1911), a didactic introduction to Van Gogh’s work for a general readership; the aim of the book was ‘not to praise this man and elevate him above all others through abstract argumentation or enthusiastic words, but to demonstrate his greatness with his work as the example, in other words through that work itself’ (p. 1). He gave lessons and courses on modern art, frequently using Van Gogh to illustrate his ideas. Some of the people who attended his courses, mainly women, were very wealthy, and Bremmer advised them on purchasing art.5353. On Bremmer as a promoter of Van Gogh see Balk 2003 and Balk 2006, esp. pp. 236-242. The most famous of the collectors he advised was Helene Kröller-Müller, who gave her name to the museum in Otterlo that now has some 260 paintings and drawings by Van Gogh in its collection, most of which came from her.

In 1914 Brieven aan zijn broeder, edited by Jo van Gogh-Bonger, thus clearly fell into the most fertile soil conceivable.5454. Brieven 1914. It was a bulky, three-volume edition, in which she published only the letters from Vincent to Theo (and to her, after her marriage in 1889) along with a few family letters, such as letter 98 to his parents and letter 788 to his mother. At last she had rid herself of the huge burden she had assumed on Theo’s death; her mission was over. She had originally intended to get the job done in the foreseeable future, but it took much longer than she had expected.

In the foreword she described how, as Theo’s young wife, she had seen the drawer containing Vincent’s letters in their apartment in the cité Pigalle in Paris, and continued:

As her words reveal, she essentially saw the letters as a means of getting to know Van Gogh as a man. In other words she was not really concerned with their art historical value. The introduction that preceded the letters was consequently strictly biographical and, as such, the first really extensive description of the artist’s life based on the accounts and memories of reliable witnesses. The tone is sympathetic in that while she does not entirely gloss over certain difficult aspects of Van Gogh’s character, she records them compassionately, almost apologetically. And she constantly refers to the extraordinary bond between the brothers Vincent and Theo. It is clear from every word that this edition – a monument to Vincent – had to be a monument to Theo too.5757. The line from 2 Samuel 1:23, ‘And in their death they were not divided’, which Jo took as the motto for this edition, was also the motto of George Eliot’s The mill on the Floss (1860) and the last words of the novel – on the gravestone of Tom and Maggie Tulliver.

After almost a century of incessant study into Van Gogh’s life and work, we now know that Jo van Gogh-Bonger’s introduction suffers from a considerable number of errors and omissions, but given the possibilities open to her at the time it is nonetheless a creditable sketch of his life. Despite the personal, involved tone the account is very factual – a great contrast, deliberate or otherwise, to Julius Meier-Graefe’s rapturous outpourings and the idealizing tenor of Elisabeth du Quesne-Van Gogh’s little book.

Her introduction covers fifty-four pages, followed by the letters, divided into periods that coincided with the places Van Gogh was living or staying; this has since become standard practice. Each period was preceded by a very brief introduction summarizing the most important events. A great many of the letter sketches were illustrated. The letters were numbered consecutively throughout the publication – numbering that became standard and remained unchanged until the publication of the present edition.5858. One exception is the numbering used by Van Crimpen and Berends in De brieven 1990, but that was not generally accepted internationally. Letters from Van Gogh to others and from others to Van Gogh that were published later were given a different system of numbering. See also Design of the edition. It is clear from the preface that she had a lot of difficulty with the sequence and the dating; this is also evident from the surviving letters that had been in her possession; on them are jotted numbers that were often corrected several times. She also often noted dates on the manuscripts, only some of which she included in the published version.

The letters were printed in the language in which Van Gogh wrote them; in practice this meant that the first two volumes covered the Dutch years and that volume 3 contained the (predominantly) French letters, beginning with Paris 1886. In principle it is a purely textual edition (not an annotated work), but in some places Jo van Gogh-Bonger felt compelled to add a footnote, usually to clarify the circumstances of what had been written, although she also put in an occasional literature reference or historical explanation. Most of these insertions occur in the letters from the years 1889-1890, the period of her marriage to Theo.

She writes nothing whatsoever about her editorial principles. In so far as she had formulated a standpoint for herself, she did not choose to burden her readers with it. The mores of the time when it came to publishing letters were very different from standards by which, all being well, present-day publishers treat their material. In literary publishing it was quite normal for an editor to edit the text as he saw fit, not just as regards typographic uniformity and the other often unavoidable changes needed to translate handwriting into print, but pure text editing too. Jo van Gogh-Bonger took full advantage of this ‘editorial licence’. Specifically, this meant that in many places she omitted a name, a few words or a whole passage, short or long. Sometimes she abridged a long string of edifying quotations or omitted all or part of long enumerations, probably on the grounds that one can have too much of a good thing, or perhaps simply to save space. In other cases she suppressed passages about issues that impinged on family sensitivities or might cast a slur on the reputation of family members who were still living.5959. The family attached great importance to protecting their privacy; when the possibility of publishing Van Gogh’s letters was discussed in 1893, Willemien thought it might be better not to go ahead with it while Mrs van Gogh was still alive: She wrote to Jo van Gogh-Bonger: ‘Will Vincent’s letters be in De Telegraaf too? The Rev. ter Haar read letters to Bernard there. Do you want that second issue of the Mercure de France back? I sometimes wonder whether it wouldn’t be better to put off publishing all the letters while Ma’s still alive, and then do it without holding anything back – everything’ (Nijmegen, 22 May 1893, FR b2821). One example is the abbreviation (but oddly enough not consistently) of Kee Vos’s name to the initials K.V. What she wrote to Paul Gachet Jr concerning Van Gogh’s remarks about Dr Gachet, particularly that he was ‘just as sick and exhausted’ as Vincent and Theo, is telling in this regard: ‘If you see something that you would not like to see in print – I can leave it out ... if you prefer, I can cut the sentence.’6060. FR b2153, letter from Jo van Gogh-Bonger to Paul Gachet Jr, 27 February 1912. She, incidentally, saw no reason to intervene in this case for, as she added (very much in the spirit of Van Gogh), ‘who doesn’t suffer from their nerves?’. See also letter 893, Additional details.

Given Jo van Gogh-Bonger’s ties to the Van Gogh family, such interventions are understandable (which is not to say they were justified), but she also expunged from the correspondence – probably by mutual agreement – paragraphs about people who were still alive. It also appears that she wanted to conceal certain personal matters from prying eyes. On 14 June 1922 the art historian and publicist Gustave Coquiot wrote about the cuts in his notebook: ‘Mrs van G.-Bonger has been criticized for publishing certain distressing letters from Vincent. And yet she has kept some of the most distressing secrets ... what can these letters be!’6161. FR b7159.

A comparison of the manuscripts with the version in the 1914 edition throws up many more misreadings and omissions, and from a present-day, purist editing viewpoint one can censure her for her shortcomings. Yet she left intact the general picture of Van Gogh that emerges from his letters and produced a book that was a goldmine for generations of art lovers and art historians.

Aside from the bulky appearance of the edition, the plain, not needlessly academic approach reflected the ideology of the publisher, officially the Maatschappij voor Goede en Goedkoope Lectuur in Amsterdam, but known to the public as De Wereldbibliotheek or WB, after a series of publications for which it was known.6262. We will also refer to the publishers as De Wereldbibliotheek; the official name underwent minor changes over the years. For this publishing house see De Glas 1989. De Wereldbibliotheek’s purpose was to publish literature, attractively designed, at reasonable prices, so that good writing was accessible to a broad cross-section of the population. Jo van Gogh-Bonger’s choice of this publishing house was undoubtedly influenced by her socialist sympathies. People could subscribe to the editions. The three-volume set Brieven aan zijn broeder cost f 7.50 stitched, f 10 bound.

Jo van Gogh-Bonger’s surviving correspondence with the publishers reveals that 2,100 copies were printed (2,075 of them for sale);6363. This is noted on the statement up to 1 July 1914, dated 21 September 1914. Sales figures, contract, payments and Jo van Gogh-Bonger’s correspondence with De Wereldbibliotheek are in the Van Gogh Museum Documentation (Vincent van Gogh Foundation archives). the contract was signed on 18 January 1911 with the intention of bringing the book out in 1912, ‘but not before 1 November of that year, unless Paul Cassirer in Berlin also publishes the German edition of these letters earlier’.6464. Jo had agreed with Cassirer that the German edition should be published by 1 November 1912 at the latest (contract, Van Gogh Museum Documentation (Vincent van Gogh Foundation archives)). It is clear that at an early stage the idea was that the Dutch edition and the German version (about which more later) should appear at about the same time. This is indeed what happened – but not until 1914.

Remarkably, Jo van Gogh-Bonger financed the publication herself. It was a considerable investment and one that would seem to indicate that the publisher was unwilling to bear the risk. To put it another way, this illustrates the efforts she was prepared to go to for Van Gogh: it was literally worth a very great deal to her to get the letters published. The surviving archive materials and Jo van Gogh-Bonger’s account book provide a picture of the financial side of the enterprise. Altogether she spent f 5,785.99½ on the production of the first three volumes.6565. Account book 2002, entries 97/11, 97/13, 97/17 and 97/30. The publishers received 20% commission on the actual proceeds of sale; other costs, such as binding and a printing tax levied at the time, came out of the balance. Half of the remaining sum went to Jo van Gogh-Bonger.6666. Statements in Van Gogh Museum Documentation (Vincent van Gogh Foundation archives). She noted the income up to 1919 in her account book; it came to f 4,721.03.6767. Account book 2002, entries 98/3, 98/4, 98/5, 98/6 and 98/7. It emerges from the correspondence that she received another f 3,581.83 for the 1919-1923 period, bringing the total proceeds for her to f 8,302.88. This means that, after deducting costs, she earned just over f 2,500 in the ten years it took to sell the whole edition, an average of f 250 a year. Not exactly a generous return given the risk that she took. What is more it was seven years before she recouped her costs.

On the other hand, the venture had gone well enough for De Wereldbibliotheek to carry half of the production costs of the reprint they proposed in 1924, with a maximum of f 5,000 for Jo van Gogh-Bonger. The other conditions remained virtually unchanged.6868. Letter from De Wereldbibliotheek to Jo van Gogh-Bonger, 24 February 1924. The edition was almost the same size as the first impression, 2,000 copies. The text was reset. Since relatively few stitched copies of the first edition had sold, it was decided that all the copies of the second edition should be bound. The three volumes sold for f 15.

This aside, as an art dealer Paul Cassirer was an important conduit to the German art market for Jo van Gogh-Bonger, and he had sold a good many Van Goghs from 1900 onwards.7272. See Feilchenfeldt 1988, passim, and Account book 2002, esp. p. 28. As early as 13 May 1909 he wrote to her: ‘As I have often told you, I should very much like to publish Van Gogh’s letters.’7373. Information about the background to the German edition is based on Feilchenfeldt and Brandis 2005, pp. 189-193. His eagerness is apparent from the fact that he made Jo van Gogh-Bonger a number of specific financial proposals without having the slightest idea of the total size of the manuscript. Negotiations followed, Paul Cassirer went to see her to tie up a few loose ends, and a contract was signed on 25 July 1910. It specified an edition of 2,080 copies for sale, eighty of them in a de luxe version, although precisely what this involved was not specified.7474. Feilchenfeldt and Brandis 2005 states that the de luxe edition was 100 copies (p. 189). There would also be a further hundred standard and fifteen de luxe copies that would not go into the trade. The result was a book in two heavy volumes. The letters in Dutch were translated by Leo Klein-Diepold, those in French by Carl Einstein.7575. There is nothing in Jo van Gogh-Bonger’s account book about the money she received from Cassirer for the German edition.