Max with Pablo Picasso (right) and friends.
The following notes on Max Jacob's life are taken from Dan Franck's "Bohemian Paris" which is a must read for serious scholars of Bohemia's history. The book, from which we have reprinted a few small excerpts here with permission from King Ubu Roi, can be purchased here:
To anyone who asked about his childhood, he would say that a band of gypsies had kidnapped him when he was three years old; that his bones were removed and he was cut up into pieces before being discovered several years later in the courtyard of Ecole Normale Superiure, one of France's finest schools.
There was no need to believe a word he said; the man was a poet. Max was also a painter, and always had been.
One fine day, with no luggage, no coat, just a few francs pinched from his mother's wallet, he came to Paris, where he quickly discovered that a paintbrush didn't bring much more in the way of revenue than a pen. He became in turn piano teacher, tutor, office employee, art critic, street sweeper, apprentice carpenter. lawyer's clerk, seretary, sales representative and childminder.
After viewing some sixty-four paintings of his dear friend Picasso at Vollard's gallery, Max said: "He did imitate the older artists (like Renoir, Degas, Delacroix, and Rubens), but his imitations were caught up in such a whirlwind of genius that one felt only, in this exhibition of a great number of canvases, the explosive force of an entirely new and original personality."
Max met Pablo in the apartment he shared with Manyac on Boulevard de Clichy. A dozen Spanish friends cooked beans as Picasso showed Max canvas after canvas. They ate, drank, and sang songsuntil late into the night, the guitars played melodies from Beethoven's symphonies.
After hearing Max recite his poems, Picasso cried with emotion and declared that Max was the only true French poet of his time. In return for the compliment, Max gave him some of his most precious possessions: a Durer wood engraving, authentic images of Epinal, and all his daumier lithographs.
Picasso drew him into his band of Spaniards. They would laugh, sing, and dance far into the night.
Apollinaire by Vlaminck, 1903.
The Muse Inspiring the Poet: Marie Laurencin and Guillaume Apollinaire
Apollinaire As A Teapot by Pablo Picasso,1905.
Apollinaire by Charles Grooms, oil on wood and cardboard, 1963.
Apollinaire by Giorgio DeChirico.
This "Motto of the King of Bohemia" was printed in the New-York Saturday Press on 17 September 1859: Sans sou et sans souci 
Frederic "Frede" Gerard, the owner of Zut, with a young girl.
Frede with guitar.
Frede.
The Zut was a tavern on the Rue Ravignan (in a square now named after Emile Goudeau, a writer who started up the literary cafe and theater called the Hydropathes, and later, the Chat Noir) where all the anarchists of the Butte came to drink (and the Zut was the fGas lamps lit the murky space, which was run by a little man with a cap and long beard, wearing brown velvet pants, clogs on his feet, and a bright red flannel belt. His name was frederic Gerard, Frede for short. His bar was open to all the poor and rejected citizens of the city. Though he didn't know a single note of music, the tavern's keeper played the guitar, sometimes the cello. He sang Parisian melodies, often accompanied by other performers who came to join him. Outside, the street was full of prostitutes, petty thieves, deserters, rival gangs with their knives out, looking for a fight, fraudsters, stamp forgers: the usual flora fauna of the neighborhood. The Zut's sign announced the tone: 'Beer'. It was the only alcohol available on the premises; there were no wines or liqueurs. Frede poured the foam directly from the pitcher into the glasses placed on the barrels that served as tables. Sometimes he would cook ham and eggs. When shots were heard outside, punctuating the young hotheads' fun, he reassured his immigrant friends that if the police came, he would hide them. They were all afraid of being forced to leave the country. But Frede the bigmouth, Frede the anarchist, was there to watch out for them.
Montmartre et ses artistes according to Francis Carco:
Max with Pablo Picasso (right) and friends.
In 1902, when Picasso could not sell a painting and was suffering from extreme poverty and hunger, max shared his meager earnings with him. Max, who was only five years older than Pablo, played the role of older brother. Max referred to Pablo as "Litle One".
