84, Charing Cross Road by Helene Hanff: Book Review
Writer and bibliophile Helene Hanff strikes up a friendship through correspondence with the staff of a used bookshop in London. I think my expectations were too high. I remember other readers telling me, "Oh, if you liked The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, you will absolutely love 84, Charing Cross Road." Well, I absolutely loved Guernsey, so there wasn't really any room for me to like something more. Disappointment was inevitable. Letters were obviously left out, and I found myself wondering what was going on in between the published letters. There would be a reference to "your last letter" and I wondered what had been said in it. I was a little taken aback by how quickly the author took such a familiar tone with the reserved "Brits." I can't imagine writing "WHAT KIND OF A BLACK PROTESTANT BIBLE IS THIS?" in my second letter to a business. Not if I was truly upset, and definitely not in a teasing manner. I thought it got repetitive. "Do you have this book? Why not? What's that in dollars? Glad you liked the food I sent. Maybe I'll get over there someday." That's about it. I don't think I've read, or even heard of, most of the books that the author wants to buy. I appreciate that she's a voracious reader, but we apparently have 0 books in common. It was hard to stir up much interest in that. I did like that books united such far-flung people. I'm sitting here thinking about a quote by Emerson that says something like "I can't be truly alone when I'm surrounded by books." He was using that as an argument to get out in nature, but that can be a comforting thought as well. Not only am I as a reader sharing…
