Lee, Harper (1926-2016)
To Kill a Mockingbird, Inscribed First Edition with ALS.

Philadelphia & New York: J.B. Lippincott Company, 1960.

Stated first edition, first printing, with "First Edition" printed below copyright notice, octavo, signed and inscribed by Lee to architect Harold Caufield, "For Harold, with love, Love, LOVE," in ink on the front free flyleaf; bound in publisher's half green cloth and rust paper-covered boards; with the scarce pictorial dust-jacket featuring Lee's portrait by Truman Capote, stated second printing with the Daniels reviews on rear flap, unclipped (light dust-soiling to boards, minor foxing to endpapers, spine caps barely pushed; minor foxing and edgewear to jacket, price crossed out in pencil on front flap); 8 x 5 ¼ in.

Harold "Hal" Caufield was a New York-based architect who completed successive renovations to the Upper East Side apartments and townhouses belonging to the Brown family. Composer and writer Michael Brown was friends with Truman Capote, who asked him via a letter to look after Nelle Harper Lee when she moved to Manhattan in 1949. In 1956, Browns gifted Lee with an entire year's wages, furnishing her with the means to write To Kill a Mockingbird. Nelle spent much time with the Browns at their home during the 1950s and 60s, where she became close to Caufield as well.

[Together with]

Christmas card signed "Nelle Harper" in blue ink, with a lengthy undated message to Harold Caufield occupying the inside of the card and back panel; the card printed in red with an embossed holly pattern; 8 5/8 x 6 ½ in.

"I loathe people who write letters on Christmas cards, don't you?"

A lengthy Christmas greeting discussing her holiday travel plans, family, in which Lee refers to herself as "the honorary aunt to half of Monroeville." The excitement of the Christmas season was making Lee miss Manhattan, evidently a relatively calmer atmosphere for her, compared to Monroeville. Full of light, and at times, self-deprecating humor, the full transcript reads: "It was wonderful to hear your voice yesterday, and so sweet (as usual!) of you to call! You are over-looking the Blue Ridge Mountains while I'm overlooking a mountain of unwrapped Christmas effluvia that goes with having a multitude (to us!) of grand-nieces and nephews, plus being honorary aunt to half of Monroeville. O to escape the hurly-burly of this village for the peace + quiet of Manhattan! We are spending Christmas (Fri-Sun) at the beach-we rent condominiums ar[oun]d the Conner branch of the family converge. We celebrate in privacy, feast, and depart. There are no children involved, so Santa does not have to cope with the chimney-less apartments. You seem somehow nearer, but I think you are about half-way between here and NY-I know its an overnight drive for Alice to get to Lake Junaluska for her churching, and by car it's two nights to NY. Why didn't you move onto the Twain Line of Philadelphia? I loathe people who write letters on Christmas cards, don't you? But I ramble on-waiting for the plumber to return with an antique part for an antique john. It never fails-some part of this house collapses every Christmas. It's as traditional as you dropping the turkey - oh, how I miss you and love you!"

Condition
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