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One must be possessed of a certain kind of madness, I feel, to compile a bibliography. . .This is the work not only of a bibliophile but of a sleuth, a proof-reader, a hunter and God knows what else. To collect all the material amassed in this huge tome represents the labor of a prisoner tunnelling his way out of jail over a period of months or years. One can only imagine what cunning and ingenuity it required to gather all this information.1Faced with factors such as the problem of distance from the established book markets and the prolific output of some authors, some bibliographers need additional measures of determination, persistence and a continued focus.
This is a very incomplete attempt at a Bibliography of that decidedly involved subject, the complete works of Alexandre Dumas. Do any persons exist who can say that they know all that he wrote? Did he himself know the full extent of his literary efforts, what was in good sooth his own, what was partly his, and what, while passing under his name, was in no sense his? Still it is surely desirable that some effort should be made to sort out the titles which he justly claim [sic], and, if may be, to endeavour to apportion his share in many others. And much has been done already in this way, indeed somewhat overdone in the matter of deprivation, since unquestionably he has been robbed of much which was assuredly his. But justice and impartiality are very difficult in the matter. There are books known in English translation that are not to be found in the original French, or perhaps only in the journals in which they appeared serially; there are books published in England under several titles, the translators of which were apparently unaware that they were identical, and there are books similarly issued in France and Belgium; there are romances and plays which he claimed no part in which yet show his handiwork; there are others which he did appropriate and which defy his craftsmanship to prove itself; there are books which he plainly stated were not by him or only a translation, yet which are issued among his collected works without comment; and there is work, yes, even books which one practically never hears of. The subject is indeed an intricate one and full of interest and surprises.9In 1925, Reed produced 'A translation of the bibliographical works relative to Alex. Dumas père. This volume contained much new bibliographic details on Dumas' works, and was, in essence, a companion to the first bibliographical "attempt" of 1923. By November 1925, he was planning a "second edition" of the bibliography. "I am, from time to time, turning things over in my mind, & have a fancy to have a few introductory sections, for example: Dumas' handwriting, the MSS, the Journals - if I succeed in picking up 1 or 2 more, his verse, his collaborators, collected editions - English and French, his legacy to literature, his publishers - English and French, his critics - in particular those hostile, his sources . . . ".10
You ask me how I like being out of business. First rate. I should not like to return to the shackles again, though of course if needs must, I could. It is my first taste of freedom for forty years or more. To be able to get a reasonable no. of hours for the work I have always wanted to do; to be able to spend two or three hours daily in the garden, or go for a good walk is a luxury never before enjoy[ed], even when I looked after the garden in the old house. The real pleasure was spoiled by the continual liability and frequent actuality of interruptions calling me down to the shop. I hardly knew what a pair of slippers was. I never attempted to take my boots off until bedtime - it only meant putting them on again in a few minutes.11Naturally inclined towards method. Reed quickly established a routine that encompassed both his domestic responsibilities and his Dumas-related activities. As he stated to Aksel Nielsen, the Scandinavian bibliographer of Dumas, it was a routine that he maintained throughout his life.
See my day's programme never varied unless from some outside cause. Up at 7. With an interval for breakfast and the morning paper, three hours work about the place, clipping hedges, chopping firewood, keeping half an acre tidy etc, etc. Then into town to do the shopping (we have to fetch almost everything save milk or heavy groceries) and Mrs Reed cannot do that now. That brings me to 11.30 or practically so, then lunch which we usually have at that time; I may read aloud for half an hour, my wife being almost unable to read to herself now. In the afternoon, four hours typing, writing or searching for information. After tea, reading aloud again for two hours. Bed about 8 p.m. when I look at the evening paper, & perhaps read to myself for half an hour. Sunday: no work."12Reed's liking for routine, combined with his dogged persistence and discipline towards the long task, cannot be underestimated. It was an important factor in all of his achievements. Indeed, it was the way Frank Reed operated the best.
The compilation of an authoritative bibliography of so towering a figure in the world of international letters would have entailed a lifetime of close application with the great libraries of the Old World and America at hand. Mr Reed has accomplished the extra miracle of achieving his memorable results in his watchtower at Whangarei, thousands of miles away from the centres where most of his information lay. Exact and exhaustive scholarship is difficult enough, in an isolated and remote country like New Zealand, in any branch of human culture. The obstacles in the path of research on such a theme are on the face of things insuperable. ..Now the fruit of so much toil, carried through with so much courage and delight, is given to the world."36Significantly, others too recognized his efforts. In 1927, Reed had been honoured by the French Government with the title of 'Officier d'Academie' for his services to French literature. In 1934, just after the publication of the Bibliography, the French Government once again decorated him with title of 'Palmes d'Officier de l'Instruction Publique' "in token of appreciation and thanks for [his] notable services rendered for the diffusion of the French language and culture...37
It is an impertinence, I suppose, to say of any man that he is happy; but when, at seventy-odd years of age, a lively and ardent mind is discovered behind the placid mien of a lifelong scholar - when an old man talks with the exuberance of youth about a subject to which he has been faithful for half a century - why, there is some reason for suspecting happiness. That the miscellaneous writings of Alexandre Dumas are of much importance in the atomic age (the 90s!) may be doubted, and perhaps his romantic plays now only serve to satisfy an academic curiosity. But why should a man's work be utilitarian? If utility were the only standard there would be no true excellence in work, but only catchpenny toil. To work for love is to set a proper example, and if happiness is the profit, then the example is worth our scrutiny.40Happy no doubt he was. A "touch mad"? I leave that to the reader's judgement.