In 1920, the poet Paul Éluard and the literary theorist Jean Paulhan joined forces to create a magazine. They felt that existing rubrics in Paris, such as Littérature and La Nouvelle Revue Française, were too tethered to the past and too loyal to outdated artistic styles, Cubism included. Dada—the anarchic, anti-art movement born in Zurich during the war—was spreading across Europe, promoted by incendiary manifestos, performances, and journals that mocked logic and tradition. Éluard and Paulhan imagined a magazine that would rethink the role of language itself. They called it Proverbe. It would ask readers: What happens when a proverb says nothing at all?
The literary union was short-lived. By issue two, it was clear that Paulhan leaned toward essays while Éluard believed fragmented prose, stripped of moral weight, best embodied the principles of language. “Where,” Éluard asked, “is the beating heart of a sentence?” Though Paulhan’s name remained on the masthead, his words were no longer published.
