When was the last time you fell in love with a book before reaching page 10? It happened to me last week when I picked up 84 Charing Cross Road by Helene Hanff. I'm not fond of telling people that they have to read something, but for all book lovers this book is compulsory. It all started back in 1949 when Miss Hanff wrote a letter from New York to the Marks & Co. bookshop at 84 Charing Cross Road in London to ask about second-hand books for a reasonable price. What followed was 20 years of correspondence with mainly one of its staff members, Frank Doel. In her third letter, Hanff had dropped the formality and was already expressing her wit and wonderful sense of humour, but it took a bit longer for Frank Doel, the Brit, to do so. This is an extract from her sixth letter in March 1950 (the spelling is hers):
Where is the Leigh Hunt? Where is the Oxford Verse? Where is the Vulgate and dear goofy John Henry, I thought they'd be such nice uplifting reading for Lent and NOTHING do you send me. you leave me sitting here writing long margin notes in library books that don't belong to me, some day they'll find out i did it and take my library card away.
Her complaining, yelling tone just cracks me up. I don't have Hanff's courage to write margin notes in library books, but I mark sentences and passages with an x or a vertical line in mine.
Hanff's 84 Charing Cross Road is 95 pages long; a quick read. Most of the letters are simply delightful and then there are a few, at least one, that will break your heart. I won't say more. Not only did Hanff send letters, but she also sent food parcels (meat and eggs) to the staff members to express her gratitude for the books she was receiving. The correspondence started in post-war Britain and the rationing appalled her. In the beginning, the staff would hold on to the books she was interested in and ask her in a letter if she still wanted them. This was what she wrote to them in September 1950 from her apartment on 14 East 95th St.:
Never wonder if I've found something somewhere else, I don't look anywhere else any more. Why should I run all the way down to 17th St. to buy dirty, badly made books when I can buy clean, beautiful ones from you without leaving the typewriter? From where I sit, London's a lot closer than 17th Street.
The book reminds me of another delightful read, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society by Mary Ann Shaffer, which I talked about in another blog post. When I finished reading these two I kept them close to my heart for just a few seconds. That's how much I loved them.
My edition of 84 Charing Cross Road includes the sequel The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street, which is about her trip to London (the illustration on the cover is by Sarah McMenemy). I wouldn't even consider reading the former without having the latter ready. After finishing the book I wanted more of Hanff, so I ordered Letter from New York. I got a used copy, which should arrive soon. I also found an audio version of 84 Charing Cross Road on YouTube, which I have already listened to twice while doing house chores. Then there is a film from 1987, starring Anne Bancroft and Anthony Hopkins, which I haven't seen.
If it's raining this is the perfect book to read under a blanket with a cup of coffee or tea and simply get lost in the delightfulness. I recommend having stationery at hand because after the reading you probably want to catch up on your correspondence. By that, I don't mean emails.
If it's raining this is the perfect book to read under a blanket with a cup of coffee or tea and simply get lost in the delightfulness. I recommend having stationery at hand because after the reading you probably want to catch up on your correspondence. By that, I don't mean emails.
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