A collection of his letters, manuscripts, and printed works

As issued, but generally poor to good. This collection was gathered by Terry Risk who visited Count Potocki in the early 1970s at his home, the Villa Vigoni, near Draguignan in the south of France. It includes a number of his printed works, all the letters back and forth, letters (some in photocopy) to other people, magazine articles by or about him, four typed unpublished manuscripts, a block of linotype for one of his cards, a collection of photographs, copies of a number of legal documents, and one broadside which he always regarded as one of the most significant gestures of his life. A partial list of the items includes: The Blood Royal of England (1966), Dog\\\'s Eggs (1971), The Fifth Columnist (1960), Lordly Lovesongs (1931), Meillerie (1972), Prison Poems (1933), Snobbery With Violence (1932), Whited Sepulchres (1936), and Wild Oats (1927). Many of these are in severely limited editions and/or are signed by him. The manuscripts are essentially autobiographical. The letters include those to and from Terry Risk; also to the booksellers David Low and Robin Waterfield. The broadside is The Unconstitutional Crisis, a protest against the Abdication of King Edward VIII. Finally there is a complete set of The Right Review magazines which except for the last two belonged to Richard Aldington. Count Potocki of Montalk (1903-97) was an eccentric poet, private press printer, polemicist, and the self-proclaimed \\\"King of Poland\\\". He was born in New Zealand but went to Europe in 1926. He lived for many years in England, then from 1949 at the Villa Vigoni, a ramshackle place near Draguignan in the south of France. In 1932 he became embroiled in a notorious legal case. It had begun when he tried to find someone to print a few poems, including an off-color one, which he hoped to send to his friends for the pagan Feast of Saturnalia (i.e. Christmas). The printer he approached, seeing their nature, took them to the police. Potocki was arrested, and after a jury trial at the Old Bailey was sentenced to six months in Wormwood Scrubs Prison. His travails provoked a good deal of sympathy in the literary world and eventually funds were provided so he could do his own printing. His most notable achievement was perhaps The Right Review, an intermittent periodical of opinion, mostly his own. His work on this—and everything else—was remarkably maladroit. He always maintained that if he had had time and money, he could have been one of the world\\\'s great printers, but the modest booklets and ephemeral items he has left us—with their terrible type-setting, bad inking of the press, and poor design—show otherwise.