Jean COCTEAU. 2 L.A.S., April 2 and July 5, 1960, to a "dear friend"; 1 page in 4 each. Milly April 2, 1960. He leaves for Santo Sospir. "An almost sister who is very ill, the work, the auditions for the revival of L'Aigle [à deux têtes], the tape recorders for the film, the articles, the letters, the annoyances, the alms, the re-releases. That's what drives me away tomorrow and forces me to go to the Côte d'Azur"... July 5, 1960. He read the letters on the evening of his birthday, alone in his room after having had to "blow out a sham of 71 candles. [....] The letters almost embarrassed me, so suddenly they plunge us into a river of blood and ink, very soft and calm, between banks that I know well and which are reflected upside down. Charles shows himself there without a theatrical mask with all his nobility and kindness and that childhood of which he had the anger (I can still see him throwing a box of Vichy pastilles that exploded like a bomb). And what I like is that he finds the time to write real letters in this dreadful time of haste, telephone and radio. [...] that astonishing curve in his back was not a bump but some strange musical instrument from which he drew unforgettable accents from his nasal and passionate voice. Ah, you have given me a beautiful birthday present...".