| Author(s) | Karl Marx |
|---|---|
| Written | 15 October 1867 |
Dear Kugelmann
You must not write to Borkheim. Besides it would be useless, since the work has already been announced in the publishers' circular and Schabelitz has already brought it out.[1] Moreover, Borkheim himself is now in Bordeaux. Such a letter from you would have no other effect but to make Borkheim my enemy.
Ce qui est fait, est fait[2] – never mind! As I was in a state of great excitement from working at night, I exaggerated the malignity of the événement[3] at first. In fact je suis puni par ou j'ai peché![4] Actually the idea of the scandal which our friend would make among the respectable philistines at Geneva amused me au premier abord.[5] It is true I did not foresee the publishers' fruits. Moreover, I should have realised that in working out his plan Borkheim would naturally overstep the prudent limits I suggested in my letter. The only policy to be pursued now is to be silent, so long as our enemies do not speak, and once they speak and want to make me responsible, to make bad jokes about their being compelled to ascribe Borkheim's pranks to me in order not to have to answer my book. Further, in that event Borkheim must be dealt with benevolently, for after all, apart from his literary vanity, he is capable and well meaning, and good as an homme d'action,[6] as long as he does not get the devil in him.
You will have received Engels' recipe by now. I am in correspondence with Liebknecht and Becker.[7]
By 'success of the book' I mean nothing but its rapid sale, because of the effect that would have in England.
The Courier Français (the daily paper which arouses the most attention in Paris now) and the Liberté in Brussels have published a French translation of my introduction, together with complimentary preambles.
A certain Natzmer in New York has offered himself as English translator. Quod non.[8]
Liebknecht's speech in Berlin gives me great pleasure. I sent him some instructions from here.
Poor Becker's position is so bad that he is on the point of giving up his entire political and literary activity. How one regrets not being able to help in such circumstances!
Greetings to your dear wife and my little friend, for whose portrait I still have to thank you.
Yours
KM