
WELL DONE, IT’S RARE
Assessing what is the rarest printed work by an author is not an exact science. For instance, a book might have many known copies but appears to be rare because it seldom comes up for sale. This is often the case if the present owners are institutions or collectors who have little interest in selling. We would call this scarce.
A better way to look at the question, perhaps, is to consider how many copies of a particular work actually exist?
A sense of how many copies of a work might exist begins with knowing how many ever existed—or, in other words: what was the original print run?

But evaluating rarity is still a moving target because we need to know how many of those originals have actually survived.
Sometimes rarity has become evident. A common example is the Tite Street sale catalogue for Wilde’s bankruptcy in 1895. There must have been hundreds of these handed out for the public auction, but owing to their ephemeral use at the time, only a handful of examples are now known to exist. Incidentally, in this sense we should be careful not to conflate rarity with importance, although the sale catalogue is probably both.
However, it is not a “work” by Oscar Wilde.
So let us look at the numbers. Leaving aside privately-printed editions, and pre-issue prompt copies for actors, Wilde’s authorized works were publicly issued in varying quantities—usually in the hundreds or low thousands. Sometimes the main print run was supplemented by a smaller number of presentation copies, typically produced on special paper. For instance, there were thirty copies of The Ballad of Reading Gaol on Japan vellum,1 and twenty-five of The Sphinx on handmade paper.2
So taking the print run as our benchmark, it would be rare indeed if we found a total printing that was limited to only eleven copies! Admittedly, eleven is an odd number for a limitation in more ways than one. But this appears to be the case for an edition of Wilde’s Salomé in my possession.
Indications are that this intriguing copy of Salomé is a German pirated edition from 1913, and the count derives from a catalogue description of it in “elf exemplaren”: the German for “eleven copies”.
Here it is on the right side-by-side with the original French Salomé, 1893.


You will note that despite the purported German origin of 1913, the edition is not in German—it faithfully reproduces the original text in French. And, curiously, it does not carry the date of 1913, but repeats the originally published date of 1893, Both of these factors, and the small quantity, hint at forgery more than piracy, particularly as we might expect pirated copies to have been mass-produced.
On the other hand, it would not be a very convincing forgery (as least not yet) because the Rops Vignette is missing, the typography is slightly different, and the layout has been reset. So whether it is actually a pirated copy, a forgery, or something else such as an trial galley, is an open question.
So to evaluate how rare it might be, I decided to see if there were any other extant copies. I found only two in book form, plus a third which is possibly only on microfilm—and all are in leading repositories of serious Wilde collections:
[1] William Andrews Clark Memorial Library [LINK]
The Clark Library copy is in its Rare Books Stacks and is noted as “A German piracy of the first edition, apparently printed in 1913 as a limited edition of eleven copies.”
The catalogue goes on to note that their copy was sold to Clark as a proof copy from the library of Pierre Loüys! This is notable because it was Loüys who assisted Wilde with his original French, and it is to him that Salomé is dedicated. One wonders why the Frenchman connected with the genuine original of 1893 would have received a proof copy of a German piracy in 1913.
A further point to note is this suggestion of a “proof copy”. This chimes with my copy which is similarly bound in plain wrappers, and all the pages of heavy stock are uncut—or as collectors properly refer to it: unopened. Finally, we note that the Clark copy has never had a library request, reinforcing its status as little known.
[2] The University of Oxford: Magdalen College Library [LINK]
The Magdalen copy has also never been requested, and the catalogue notations, in this case, inform us that: “one copy of this edition bears the inscription: “In elf Exemplaren ge[?]. Dieses ist No. 10 Fur Marie Müller”.
This is the origin of the “elf Exemplaren” (eleven copies), and is asserted along with the additional information that “this is No. 10 for Marie Müller”, who perhaps was the Austrian portrait painter.
Finally, provenance of this copy is noted from the library of the late Gary E. Prouk.
[3] National Library of Ireland [LINK]
The catalogue of the National library of Ireland lists the edition, but I believe, if I am reading it correctly, that it is only a microfilm copy of the book.
If so, it is probably a microfilm of the Clark Library’s copy, because the notes repeat the Clark information verbatim, including the physical size and again the notation: “A German piracy of the first edition, apparently printed in 1913 as a limited edition of eleven copies”.
We are probably no nearer knowing what is the rarest Oscar Wilde book, but this might be the rarest I have, particularly if it is the only one in private hands. I should be grateful if anyone has any information about this edition of Salomé, or knows of another copy.
Please let me know either privately, or publicly in the comments below.
© John Cooper, 2024.
With thanks to Michael Seeney for his knowledge and resourcefulness.
Footnotes:







Wow, that’s really interesting, although disappointing that there was less about elves than I expected. Are the other copies as roughly finished as yours (it appears they yours hasn’t even been trimmed/cut for binding yet.
Yes, sorry about the elf teaser. I have no idea about the other copies, but I would assume they are the same. I expect those with access to them will respond.
An authentic forgery indeed. Even more intriguing. Thanks for sharing.