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84, Charing Cross Road / The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street
84, Charing Cross Road was later made into a stage play, television play and movie, about the twenty-year correspondence between Hanff and Frank Doel, chief buyer of Marks & Co, antiquarian booksellers located at 84 Charing Corss Rd., London, England.
220 pages, Paperback
Published January 1, 1978
About the author
Helene Hanff
25 books763 followersHelene Hanff (April 15, 1916–April 9, 1997) was an American writer. Born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, she is best known as the author of the book 84 Charing Cross Road, which became the basis for a play, teleplay, and film of the same name.
Her career, which saw her move from writing unproduced plays to helping create some of the earliest television dramas to becoming a kind of professional New Yorker, goes far beyond the charm of that one book. She called her 1961 memoir Underfoot in Show Business, and it chronicled the struggle of an ambitious young playwright to make it in the world of New York theatre in the 1940s and 1950s. She worked in publicists' offices and spent summers on the "straw hat" circuit along the East Coast of the United States, writing plays that were admired by some of Broadway's leading producers but which somehow never saw the light of day.
She wrote and edited scripts for a variety of early television dramas produced out of New York, all the while continuing to try and move from being what she called "one of the 999 out of 1,000 who don't become Noel Coward." When the bulk of television production moved to California, her work slowly dried up, and she turned to writing for magazines and, eventually, to the books that made her reputation.
First published in 1970, the epistolary work 84 Charing Cross Road chronicles her 20 years of correspondence with Frank Doel, the chief buyer for Marks & Co., a London bookshop, on which she depended for the obscure classics and British literature titles around which her passion for self-education revolved. She became intimately involved in the lives of the shop's staff, sending them food parcels during England's post-war shortages and sharing with them details of her life in Manhattan.
Due to financial difficulties and an aversion to travel, she put off visiting her English friends until too late; Doel died in December 1968 from peritonitis from a burst appendix, and the bookshop eventually closed. Hanff did finally visit Charing Cross Road and the empty but still standing shop in the summer of 1971, a trip recorded in her 1973 book The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street.
In the 1987 film of 84 Charing Cross Road, Hanff was played by Anne Bancroft, while Anthony Hopkins took the part of Frank Doel. Anne Jackson had earlier played Hanff in a 1975 adaptation of the book for British television. Ellen Burstyn recreated the role on Broadway in 1982 at the Nederlander Theater in New York City.
She later put her obsession with British scholar Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch to use in a book called Q's Legacy. Other books include Apple of My Eye, an idiosyncratic guide to New York City, and A Letter from New York (1992), which reprinted talks she gave on the BBC's Woman's Hour between 1978 and 1985.
Hanff was never shy about her fondness for cigarettes and martinis, but nevertheless lived to be 80, dying of diabetes in 1997 in New York City. The apartment building where she lived at 305 E. 72nd Street has been named "Charing Cross House" in her honor. A bronze plaque next to the front door commemorates her residence and authorship of the book.
Her career, which saw her move from writing unproduced plays to helping create some of the earliest television dramas to becoming a kind of professional New Yorker, goes far beyond the charm of that one book. She called her 1961 memoir Underfoot in Show Business, and it chronicled the struggle of an ambitious young playwright to make it in the world of New York theatre in the 1940s and 1950s. She worked in publicists' offices and spent summers on the "straw hat" circuit along the East Coast of the United States, writing plays that were admired by some of Broadway's leading producers but which somehow never saw the light of day.
She wrote and edited scripts for a variety of early television dramas produced out of New York, all the while continuing to try and move from being what she called "one of the 999 out of 1,000 who don't become Noel Coward." When the bulk of television production moved to California, her work slowly dried up, and she turned to writing for magazines and, eventually, to the books that made her reputation.
First published in 1970, the epistolary work 84 Charing Cross Road chronicles her 20 years of correspondence with Frank Doel, the chief buyer for Marks & Co., a London bookshop, on which she depended for the obscure classics and British literature titles around which her passion for self-education revolved. She became intimately involved in the lives of the shop's staff, sending them food parcels during England's post-war shortages and sharing with them details of her life in Manhattan.
Due to financial difficulties and an aversion to travel, she put off visiting her English friends until too late; Doel died in December 1968 from peritonitis from a burst appendix, and the bookshop eventually closed. Hanff did finally visit Charing Cross Road and the empty but still standing shop in the summer of 1971, a trip recorded in her 1973 book The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street.
In the 1987 film of 84 Charing Cross Road, Hanff was played by Anne Bancroft, while Anthony Hopkins took the part of Frank Doel. Anne Jackson had earlier played Hanff in a 1975 adaptation of the book for British television. Ellen Burstyn recreated the role on Broadway in 1982 at the Nederlander Theater in New York City.
She later put her obsession with British scholar Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch to use in a book called Q's Legacy. Other books include Apple of My Eye, an idiosyncratic guide to New York City, and A Letter from New York (1992), which reprinted talks she gave on the BBC's Woman's Hour between 1978 and 1985.
Hanff was never shy about her fondness for cigarettes and martinis, but nevertheless lived to be 80, dying of diabetes in 1997 in New York City. The apartment building where she lived at 305 E. 72nd Street has been named "Charing Cross House" in her honor. A bronze plaque next to the front door commemorates her residence and authorship of the book.
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April 11, 2026
A love letter to letters and books
I do love second-hand books that open to the page some previous owner read oftenest. The day Hazlitt came he opened to 'I hate to read new books,' and I hollered 'Comrade!' to whoever owned it before me.
84, Charing Cross Road is a sheer delight for lovers of bookshops and of the art of letter writing, brimming with charm, wit and nostalgia – and evidently, with book talk.
I adore reading letters – so much that as a child I dreamt of becoming a postie (such a shame that, just like one cannot read the books while working in the library, a postie isn’t supposed to read those letters). An epistolary novel like Jane Austen’s Lady Susan, the correspondence of Flaubert, Kafka’s Letters to Milena, or this– a selection of the transatlantic correspondence between Helene Hanff, a script writer in New York and the employees of Marks & Co (mostly with book buyer Frank Doel), an antiquarian bookshop at 84 Charing Cross Road, London over the course of 20 years (1949 to 1969) - whether they come in the monophonic, dialogic or polyphonic type, compilations of letters spur my curiosity and interest.
This is one of the singular books that for a change not made me dream of visiting Paris once more but going to London instead. Or maybe just knowing it’s there is enough?
But I don’t know, maybe it’s just as well I never got there. I dreamed about it for so many years. I used to go to English movies just to look at the streets. I remember years ago a guy I knew told me that people going to England find exactly what they go looking for. I said I’d go looking for the England of English Literature, and he nodded and said: “It’s there.”
The animated business correspondence initiated by Helene Hanff in her quest for old and rare books over time widens into more congenial exchanges, involving the families of the employees, thanking her for the food parcels (with meat and egg powder) Hanff sends to the bookshop on festive occasions like Christmas to supplement rations (food rationing in Britain went on until 1954), also giving a fascinating glimpse into the everyday concerns of that time.
Just read it to bask in the warmth of its gentleness and generosity and treat yourself to a dash of Hanff’s exuberant book love and punchy sense of humour.
Thank you again for the beautiful book. I shall try very hard not to get gin and ashes all over it, it's really much too fine for the likes of me.
Thank you so much Paul, for bringing this lovely and affecting book to my attention.
I do love second-hand books that open to the page some previous owner read oftenest. The day Hazlitt came he opened to 'I hate to read new books,' and I hollered 'Comrade!' to whoever owned it before me.
84, Charing Cross Road is a sheer delight for lovers of bookshops and of the art of letter writing, brimming with charm, wit and nostalgia – and evidently, with book talk.
I adore reading letters – so much that as a child I dreamt of becoming a postie (such a shame that, just like one cannot read the books while working in the library, a postie isn’t supposed to read those letters). An epistolary novel like Jane Austen’s Lady Susan, the correspondence of Flaubert, Kafka’s Letters to Milena, or this– a selection of the transatlantic correspondence between Helene Hanff, a script writer in New York and the employees of Marks & Co (mostly with book buyer Frank Doel), an antiquarian bookshop at 84 Charing Cross Road, London over the course of 20 years (1949 to 1969) - whether they come in the monophonic, dialogic or polyphonic type, compilations of letters spur my curiosity and interest.
This is one of the singular books that for a change not made me dream of visiting Paris once more but going to London instead. Or maybe just knowing it’s there is enough?
But I don’t know, maybe it’s just as well I never got there. I dreamed about it for so many years. I used to go to English movies just to look at the streets. I remember years ago a guy I knew told me that people going to England find exactly what they go looking for. I said I’d go looking for the England of English Literature, and he nodded and said: “It’s there.”
The animated business correspondence initiated by Helene Hanff in her quest for old and rare books over time widens into more congenial exchanges, involving the families of the employees, thanking her for the food parcels (with meat and egg powder) Hanff sends to the bookshop on festive occasions like Christmas to supplement rations (food rationing in Britain went on until 1954), also giving a fascinating glimpse into the everyday concerns of that time.
Just read it to bask in the warmth of its gentleness and generosity and treat yourself to a dash of Hanff’s exuberant book love and punchy sense of humour.
Thank you again for the beautiful book. I shall try very hard not to get gin and ashes all over it, it's really much too fine for the likes of me.
Thank you so much Paul, for bringing this lovely and affecting book to my attention.
February 3, 2015
I lived in London from 2004 to 2008 and still have a house there. I continue to travel to London regularly from Dubai. I call these trips my "sanity check"; they transport me from my 'dream' world back to the 'real' world.
One of my favourite haunts in London is Charing Cross Road. It's been the home to booksellers selling second-hand and rare books for decades. Long before the American writer Helene Hanff immortalised the street in 84 Charing Cross Road, the area enjoyed a storied association with the city’s literary scene and its accompanying book trade. In its 1950s heyday, denizens of the nearby drinking dens of Soho, from Dylan Thomas to Auberon Waugh, would stagger from shop to shop, scanning the heaving shelves.
One of those shops was Marks & Co., the subject of this review, a well-known antiquarian bookseller located at Cambridge Circus - 84 Charing Cross Road, London. The shop was founded in the 1920s by Benjamin Marks and Mark Cohen. Cohen was persuaded to allow his name to be abbreviated in the company's name. The company built a good reputation for itself and had famous customers, including Charlie Chaplin, George Bernard Shaw, Michael Foot, royalty and public institutions such as universities and the British Museum.
- Marks & Co., 84 Charing Cross Road
Marks & Co. used to advertise its goods in various newspapers, magazines, journals etc. On Oct 5, 1949, a Miss Helene Hanff, from New York City, USA saw their ad in the Saturday Review of Literature. She wrote them a letter:
During the time of their exchange, Britain was experiencing food rationing. Every man, woman and child was given a ration book with coupons. These were required before rationed goods could be purchased. Basic foodstuffs such as sugar, meat, fats, bacon and cheese were directly rationed by an allowance of coupons. Priority allowances of milk and eggs were given to those most in need - children, expectant mothers or invalids. Housewives had to register with particular retailers. As shortages increased, long queues became commonplace.
For many years, until the end of food rationing, Helene sent the employees of Marks & Co. food parcels. Hams, tinned food of varying kinds (including tongue), boxed eggs, chocolate, raisins and so on. These parcels used to be divied up among the employees and brought such great joy and happiness to them and their families. Nylons were a favourite of the Doel household; with Frank's wife and two daughters.
I delighted in reading this novel. I simply adored Helene. I could see a lot of myself in her. With her often acerbic comments, wit, generosity, kindness, and stubborness, she could be my identical twin! :) Even her reactions to receiving her beloved books were 'me to a tee'. I do wonder if I am a reincarnate of sorts.
- Me (taken Oct 2014) and Helene - a similarity, don't you think?
[As an aside, there is an enchanting exchange of letters between Helene Hanff and a fan that is refreshing to read, and demonstrates the type of woman that Helene was. http://freespace.virgin.net/angela.ga...]
I treasured the following quotes from Helene:
In a letter dated April 11, 1969, Helene wrote a letter to her friend, Katherine. In it she said:
Marks & Co. have long gone, and 84 Charing Cross Road has been many things since; a wine shop, a restaurant, to name but a few. But there is a plaque at the very spot in memory of the store. There is also a plaque in the US, at Charing Cross House, 305 East 72nd Street, New York, where Helene Hanff once lived.
- Plaques in the UK and US
This afternoon I read the reviews of this book by GR friends. They were all wonderful and expressed how I felt about the letters between Helene and Frank. One friend's review though, Trevor's, was especially poignant and moved me to conclude this review with his thoughts:
If you needed to be reminded that love of literature is as good a foundation of love of the world as any other 'religion', that the people we write to can be closer and dearer to us than those we see day after day - then this really is a book written to remind you of just that.
- GR friend: Trevor
Amen to that.
One of my favourite haunts in London is Charing Cross Road. It's been the home to booksellers selling second-hand and rare books for decades. Long before the American writer Helene Hanff immortalised the street in 84 Charing Cross Road, the area enjoyed a storied association with the city’s literary scene and its accompanying book trade. In its 1950s heyday, denizens of the nearby drinking dens of Soho, from Dylan Thomas to Auberon Waugh, would stagger from shop to shop, scanning the heaving shelves.
One of those shops was Marks & Co., the subject of this review, a well-known antiquarian bookseller located at Cambridge Circus - 84 Charing Cross Road, London. The shop was founded in the 1920s by Benjamin Marks and Mark Cohen. Cohen was persuaded to allow his name to be abbreviated in the company's name. The company built a good reputation for itself and had famous customers, including Charlie Chaplin, George Bernard Shaw, Michael Foot, royalty and public institutions such as universities and the British Museum.
- Marks & Co., 84 Charing Cross Road
Marks & Co. used to advertise its goods in various newspapers, magazines, journals etc. On Oct 5, 1949, a Miss Helene Hanff, from New York City, USA saw their ad in the Saturday Review of Literature. She wrote them a letter:
"Your ad in the Saturday Review of Literature says that you specialize in out-of-print books. The phrase 'antiquarian book-sellers' scares me somewhat, as I equate 'antique' with expensive. I am a poor writer with an antiquarian taste in books and all the things I want are impossible to get over here except in very expensive rare editions, or in Barnes & Noble's grimy, marked-up school-boy copies.Her letter was responded to by an employee of Marks & Co. with the initials FPD, who we later learn is Frank Doel, the chief buyer for Marks & Co.. And so the epistolary novel of 84 Charing Cross Road begins. For 20 years Helene maintains correspondence with Marks & Co., and particulalry with Frank.
I enclose a list of my most pressing problems. If you have clean secondhand copies of any of the books on the list, for no more than $5.00 each, will you consider this a purchase order and send them to me?"
During the time of their exchange, Britain was experiencing food rationing. Every man, woman and child was given a ration book with coupons. These were required before rationed goods could be purchased. Basic foodstuffs such as sugar, meat, fats, bacon and cheese were directly rationed by an allowance of coupons. Priority allowances of milk and eggs were given to those most in need - children, expectant mothers or invalids. Housewives had to register with particular retailers. As shortages increased, long queues became commonplace.
For many years, until the end of food rationing, Helene sent the employees of Marks & Co. food parcels. Hams, tinned food of varying kinds (including tongue), boxed eggs, chocolate, raisins and so on. These parcels used to be divied up among the employees and brought such great joy and happiness to them and their families. Nylons were a favourite of the Doel household; with Frank's wife and two daughters.
I delighted in reading this novel. I simply adored Helene. I could see a lot of myself in her. With her often acerbic comments, wit, generosity, kindness, and stubborness, she could be my identical twin! :) Even her reactions to receiving her beloved books were 'me to a tee'. I do wonder if I am a reincarnate of sorts.
- Me (taken Oct 2014) and Helene - a similarity, don't you think?
[As an aside, there is an enchanting exchange of letters between Helene Hanff and a fan that is refreshing to read, and demonstrates the type of woman that Helene was. http://freespace.virgin.net/angela.ga...]
I treasured the following quotes from Helene:
"I do love secondhand books that open to the page some previous owner read oftenest."Helene had never been out of the USA and lived for the day when she could visit London. Frank, his wife and others, tried many times to get her to visit them, but some crisis or another, generally financial, did not afford her that luxury.
"I love inscriptions on flyleaves and notes in margins, I like the comradely sense of turning pages someone else turned, and reading passages someone long gone has called my attention to."
"The Book-Lovers' Anthology stepped out of its wrappings, all gold-embossed leather and gold-tipped pages, easily the most beautiful book I own including the Newman first edition. It looks too new and pristine ever to have been read by anyone else, but it has been: it keeps falling open at the most delightful places as the ghost of its former owner points me to things I've never read before."
"I houseclean my books every spring and throw out those I'm never going to read again like I throw out clothes I'm never going to wear again. It shocks everybody. My friends are peculiar about books. They read all the best sellers, they get through them as fast as possible, I think they skip a lot. And they NEVER read anything a second time so they don't remember a word of it a year later. But they are profoundly shocked to see me drop a book in the wastebasket or give it away. The way they look at it, you buy a book, you read it, you put it on the shelf, you never open it again for the rest of your life but YOU DON'T THROW IT OUT! NOT IF IT HAS A HARD COVER ON IT! Why not? I personally can't think of anything less sancrosanct than a bad book or even a mediocre book."
In a letter dated April 11, 1969, Helene wrote a letter to her friend, Katherine. In it she said:
"If you happen to pass by 84 Charing Cross Road, kiss it for me! I owe it that much."I will do that for Helene, the next time I am in London, as I'm sure thousands before me have done so, and thousands of others will do in the future.
Marks & Co. have long gone, and 84 Charing Cross Road has been many things since; a wine shop, a restaurant, to name but a few. But there is a plaque at the very spot in memory of the store. There is also a plaque in the US, at Charing Cross House, 305 East 72nd Street, New York, where Helene Hanff once lived.
- Plaques in the UK and US
This afternoon I read the reviews of this book by GR friends. They were all wonderful and expressed how I felt about the letters between Helene and Frank. One friend's review though, Trevor's, was especially poignant and moved me to conclude this review with his thoughts:
If you needed to be reminded that love of literature is as good a foundation of love of the world as any other 'religion', that the people we write to can be closer and dearer to us than those we see day after day - then this really is a book written to remind you of just that.
- GR friend: Trevor
Amen to that.
July 15, 2025
This is an epistolary book that contains the correspondence between Helen Hanff, an American scriptwriter, and Marks & Co., a London second-hand book store at 84, Charing Cross Road. The chief correspondent on behalf of Mark and Co. is Frank Doyle, and this correspondence continues faithfully for nearly two decades until the death of Frank.
The letters are charming and very interesting to read. They provide an insight into the friendship between Helen and Frank. It begins with a shared interest in books and later on develops into a more personal friendship, which involves his wife and children too into corresponding with Helen. The readers can understand the characters of the writers through the letters, especially those of Helen and Frank. Helen struck me as a curious lady with a peculiar taste. She was a tough customer but had a generous and kind heart that warmed all hearts at Marks & Co. Frank was very English, but he was a good sport. I really enjoyed reading about their relationship and especially Helen's playful chiding when she becomes impatient for her requested books. The letter announcing Frank's death was the most emotional letter of all. I felt so sad for Helen; she never got the chance to meet him, "the blessed man to whom she owed much".
The story left me with both nostalgia and longing. When I was pursuing my undergraduate degree, I ordered all my law books from Wildy & Sons Ltd, a law book store in London. I used to email them the book list with my credit card no (I wasn't familiar with online purchasing then) and within two weeks, the books would be at my doorstep. I remember a few times they recommended some books and included them in my order. I found them very useful and was very grateful for their attention. I had such an easy time getting all the books I needed, thanks to them. It is such a long time ago, but these letters brought back the memories. And they also left me longing to find a Mark and Co. and a Frank Doyle for me. How nice would it be to correspond with a bookseller? I'll be over the moon, I'm sure. You were one lucky Lady, Helene, and I'm very jealous of you. :)
More of my reviews can be found at http://piyangiejay.com/
The letters are charming and very interesting to read. They provide an insight into the friendship between Helen and Frank. It begins with a shared interest in books and later on develops into a more personal friendship, which involves his wife and children too into corresponding with Helen. The readers can understand the characters of the writers through the letters, especially those of Helen and Frank. Helen struck me as a curious lady with a peculiar taste. She was a tough customer but had a generous and kind heart that warmed all hearts at Marks & Co. Frank was very English, but he was a good sport. I really enjoyed reading about their relationship and especially Helen's playful chiding when she becomes impatient for her requested books. The letter announcing Frank's death was the most emotional letter of all. I felt so sad for Helen; she never got the chance to meet him, "the blessed man to whom she owed much".
The story left me with both nostalgia and longing. When I was pursuing my undergraduate degree, I ordered all my law books from Wildy & Sons Ltd, a law book store in London. I used to email them the book list with my credit card no (I wasn't familiar with online purchasing then) and within two weeks, the books would be at my doorstep. I remember a few times they recommended some books and included them in my order. I found them very useful and was very grateful for their attention. I had such an easy time getting all the books I needed, thanks to them. It is such a long time ago, but these letters brought back the memories. And they also left me longing to find a Mark and Co. and a Frank Doyle for me. How nice would it be to correspond with a bookseller? I'll be over the moon, I'm sure. You were one lucky Lady, Helene, and I'm very jealous of you. :)
More of my reviews can be found at http://piyangiejay.com/
February 16, 2018
84 Charing Cross Road chronicles a beautiful twenty-year relationship between an American reader of antiquarian books and Marks & Co. Booksellers, London. The latter ‘is the loveliest old shop straight out of Dickens’. It has very old grey oak shelves that smell of age and dust going up to the ceiling. This epistolary book contains the correspondence from 1949 to 1969 between Ms. Helene Hanff, a penurious writer who loves antiquarian books, and Frank Doel, the knowledgeable and efficient bookstore manager, and later, his wife Nora and other staff members . Every letter is a joy to read.
It was lovely to witness the stiff and formal nature of the correspondence give way to warmth and affection as the correspondents develop a friendship across the miles. This quirky American with a lively wit and an infectious sense of humor is determined ‘to puncture that proper British reserve’. It takes three years before “Dear Madam” becomes “Dear Helene”. It made me laugh to read, “Now listen Frankie, it’s going to be a long cold winter and I babysit in the evenings and I need reading matter. Don’t sit around, go find me some books!” Helene, a writer of TV scripts and children’s history books, lives in a small apartment in a brown stone house in New York, and yet she generously sends food parcels (fresh eggs!) to the employees in Marks and Co., during those postwar food rationing years in the UK. Her thoughtfulness is greeted with profound gratitude and importunate invitation from her UK friends to come visit, what to Helene is, ‘the England of English Literature’.
Anyone who loves books will certainly identify with the rapturous thrills Helene gets when a rare book or an exquisitely bound edition makes its way to her. On receiving the first edition of John Henry’s Newman Discourses on the Scope and Nature of University Education, Helene writes this to Frank, “I never saw a book so beautiful. I feel vaguely guilty about owning it. All the gleaming leather and gold stamping and beautiful type belongs to the pine-panelled library of an English country home...” And on the ‘fellowship’ of second-hand books, Helene shares this precious thought: “I love inscriptions on fly leaves and notes in margins, I like the comradely sense of turning pages someone else turned, and reading passages someone long gone had called my attention to.”
It surprises me a little that Helene seems to disdain fiction. She says unapologetically, “...I never can get interested in things that didn’t happen to people who never lived.” That is until she finally reads Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, and in her next letter to Frank, confesses a change of heart and orders a copy. Soon she recounts, “P-and-P arrived looking exactly as Jane ought to look - soft leather, slim and impeccable.” Later she introduces a friend to P-and-P and reports “she has gone out of her mind for Jane Austen.” I had a big smile on my face reading these exchanges.
84 Charing Cross Road is pure delight. I had to buy a hard copy as no Kindle edition was available. It has been a while since I read a physical book whose pages I can flip back and forth with ease. This brings to mind what Helene says “..I never knew a book would be such a joy to the touch.” It sure is. 84 Charing Cross Road is a book lover’s book. It will also endear itself to any member of the Goodreads community. Highly recommended.
It was lovely to witness the stiff and formal nature of the correspondence give way to warmth and affection as the correspondents develop a friendship across the miles. This quirky American with a lively wit and an infectious sense of humor is determined ‘to puncture that proper British reserve’. It takes three years before “Dear Madam” becomes “Dear Helene”. It made me laugh to read, “Now listen Frankie, it’s going to be a long cold winter and I babysit in the evenings and I need reading matter. Don’t sit around, go find me some books!” Helene, a writer of TV scripts and children’s history books, lives in a small apartment in a brown stone house in New York, and yet she generously sends food parcels (fresh eggs!) to the employees in Marks and Co., during those postwar food rationing years in the UK. Her thoughtfulness is greeted with profound gratitude and importunate invitation from her UK friends to come visit, what to Helene is, ‘the England of English Literature’.
Anyone who loves books will certainly identify with the rapturous thrills Helene gets when a rare book or an exquisitely bound edition makes its way to her. On receiving the first edition of John Henry’s Newman Discourses on the Scope and Nature of University Education, Helene writes this to Frank, “I never saw a book so beautiful. I feel vaguely guilty about owning it. All the gleaming leather and gold stamping and beautiful type belongs to the pine-panelled library of an English country home...” And on the ‘fellowship’ of second-hand books, Helene shares this precious thought: “I love inscriptions on fly leaves and notes in margins, I like the comradely sense of turning pages someone else turned, and reading passages someone long gone had called my attention to.”
It surprises me a little that Helene seems to disdain fiction. She says unapologetically, “...I never can get interested in things that didn’t happen to people who never lived.” That is until she finally reads Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, and in her next letter to Frank, confesses a change of heart and orders a copy. Soon she recounts, “P-and-P arrived looking exactly as Jane ought to look - soft leather, slim and impeccable.” Later she introduces a friend to P-and-P and reports “she has gone out of her mind for Jane Austen.” I had a big smile on my face reading these exchanges.
84 Charing Cross Road is pure delight. I had to buy a hard copy as no Kindle edition was available. It has been a while since I read a physical book whose pages I can flip back and forth with ease. This brings to mind what Helene says “..I never knew a book would be such a joy to the touch.” It sure is. 84 Charing Cross Road is a book lover’s book. It will also endear itself to any member of the Goodreads community. Highly recommended.
August 7, 2023
This is a bittersweet story of a friendship begun by two people separated by an ocean but united by a love of books. Helene Hanff, a freelance writer in New York, and Frank Doel, a bookseller in London, begin their correspondence because Helene likes nice additions of old books, but is not happy with what she can find in New York. Frank is able to find her relatively cheap, but handsome copies of the books she adores. Thus begins an enduring friendship.
The ending brought tears to my eyes and left me bereft for a time. If you would like a fully developed and splendid review of this lovely book, read Glen Sumi's on Goodreads. It's superb.
The ending brought tears to my eyes and left me bereft for a time. If you would like a fully developed and splendid review of this lovely book, read Glen Sumi's on Goodreads. It's superb.
September 21, 2017
An all too brief but enjoyable and witty collection of letters of correspondence between Helene Hanff from N.Y City and the various staff at Marks & Co. bookshop trading in antiquarian books in London. Lovely, endearing relationships form and you come to love the developing friendships that occur over the 20 year timespan. It's a shame that we have lost the art of letter writing, such a wonderful idea for a book and it's no wonder this became so popular when it was first published. A charming little book!
June 8, 2023
Recommended to anyone who truly loves books and reading or to anyone who still writes letters or enjoys reading other folks' letters. These letters are good ones and may even inspire you to write a few of your own.
Reread in June, 2020.
I pulled this off the shelf yesterday and read it (for probably the fourth time since I bought it 40 years ago) yesterday afternoon.
A bit of trivia at the outset: I had always assumed that Helene Hanff's first name was pronounced Heh-Lean. A few years ago, I saw a YouTube video in which a gentleman who knew her stated that her name was pronounced Heh-Layne, in the European manner, as he put it. And very recently, I saw her obituary in the New York Times which backed that up. So, until I find out otherwise, she'll be Heh-Layne to me.
Probably anyone who has an interest in reading this book will know that it consists of exchanges of letters between Ms. Hanff and primarily (though some others slip an occasional letter in), Frank Doel, who was a book buyer for Marks & Co., a book shop in London.
I'll just comment here that if I received one letter like the ones she sent, it would make my year. No - it would make my decade. Letter writing is a lost art, probably never to be recovered, but at least these have been preserved for us to read.
Helene Hanff was a better writer than I can ever hope to be, so:
"Will you please translate your prices hereafter? I don't add too well in plain American. I haven't a prayer of ever mastering bilingual arithmetic."
"I hope 'madam' (as she was addressed in an early reply from Marks & Co.) doesn't mean over there what it does here."
"I do love secondhand books that open to the page some previous owner read oftenest. The day Hazlitt came he opened to 'I hate to read new books,' and I hollered 'Comrade!' to whoever owned it before me."
"A newspaper man I know, who was stationed in London during the war, says tourists go to England with preconceived notions, so they always find exactly what they go looking for. I told him that I'd go looking for the England of English literature, and he said:
'Then it's there.'"
"Thank you again for the beautiful book. I shall try very hard not to get gin and ashes all over it, it's really much too fine for the likes of me.
"WHAT KIND OF A PEPYS' DIARY DO YOU CALL THIS?
this is not pepys' diary. this is some busybody editor's miserable collection of EXCERPTS from pepys' diary may he rot.
I could just spit.
where is jan.12, 1668, where his wife chased him out of bed and round the bedroom with a hot poker?"
From a letter to a friend who was appearing in a play in London:
"I fail to see why you did not understand that groceryman, he did not call it 'ground ground nuts,' he called it 'ground ground-nuts' which is the only really SENSible thing to call it. Peanuts grow in the GROUND and are therefore GROUND-nuts, and after you take them out of the ground you grind them up and you have ground ground-nuts, which is a much more accurate name than peanut butter, you just don't understand English.
XXX
h. hanff
girl etymologist"
"Or didn't I ever tell you that I write arty murders for Ellery Queen on television? All my scripts have artistic backgrounds - ballet, concert hall, opera - and all of the suspects and corpses are cultured. maybe I'll do one about the rare book business in your honor, you want to be the murderer or the corpse?"
"DO YOU MEAN TO SIT THERE AND TELL ME YOU'VE BEEN PUBLISHING THESE MAMMOTH CATALOGUES ALL THESE YEARS AND THIS IS THE FIRST TIME YOU EVER BOTHERED TO SEND ME ONE? THOU VARLET!
Don't remember which restoration playwright called everybody a varlet, i always wanted to use it in a sentence."
Helene Hanff signed many of her letters, hh. Besides being the initials of her name, those letters could stand for humanity and humor.
I look forward to my next visit to the pages of this book.
Edit - June 8, 2023 - Last year, I reconnected with a friend with I'd lost touch for over 20 years. The fault in losing touch was mine and I was happy that she accepted my apology for losing touch and that we were able to resume our friendship. She's a calligrapher and a designer and she insisted that we correspond through letters rather than through the internet. The result of that is that I receive wonderful letters and notes written in calligraphic style. I've wondered what the woman who delivers our mail thinks about them?
Unfortunately, my handwriting is such that my friend receives computer generated printed letters, though they do arrive in the mail.
It's a lovely thing to receive "real" letters once again.
Reread in June, 2020.
I pulled this off the shelf yesterday and read it (for probably the fourth time since I bought it 40 years ago) yesterday afternoon.
A bit of trivia at the outset: I had always assumed that Helene Hanff's first name was pronounced Heh-Lean. A few years ago, I saw a YouTube video in which a gentleman who knew her stated that her name was pronounced Heh-Layne, in the European manner, as he put it. And very recently, I saw her obituary in the New York Times which backed that up. So, until I find out otherwise, she'll be Heh-Layne to me.
Probably anyone who has an interest in reading this book will know that it consists of exchanges of letters between Ms. Hanff and primarily (though some others slip an occasional letter in), Frank Doel, who was a book buyer for Marks & Co., a book shop in London.
I'll just comment here that if I received one letter like the ones she sent, it would make my year. No - it would make my decade. Letter writing is a lost art, probably never to be recovered, but at least these have been preserved for us to read.
Helene Hanff was a better writer than I can ever hope to be, so:
"Will you please translate your prices hereafter? I don't add too well in plain American. I haven't a prayer of ever mastering bilingual arithmetic."
"I hope 'madam' (as she was addressed in an early reply from Marks & Co.) doesn't mean over there what it does here."
"I do love secondhand books that open to the page some previous owner read oftenest. The day Hazlitt came he opened to 'I hate to read new books,' and I hollered 'Comrade!' to whoever owned it before me."
"A newspaper man I know, who was stationed in London during the war, says tourists go to England with preconceived notions, so they always find exactly what they go looking for. I told him that I'd go looking for the England of English literature, and he said:
'Then it's there.'"
"Thank you again for the beautiful book. I shall try very hard not to get gin and ashes all over it, it's really much too fine for the likes of me.
"WHAT KIND OF A PEPYS' DIARY DO YOU CALL THIS?
this is not pepys' diary. this is some busybody editor's miserable collection of EXCERPTS from pepys' diary may he rot.
I could just spit.
where is jan.12, 1668, where his wife chased him out of bed and round the bedroom with a hot poker?"
From a letter to a friend who was appearing in a play in London:
"I fail to see why you did not understand that groceryman, he did not call it 'ground ground nuts,' he called it 'ground ground-nuts' which is the only really SENSible thing to call it. Peanuts grow in the GROUND and are therefore GROUND-nuts, and after you take them out of the ground you grind them up and you have ground ground-nuts, which is a much more accurate name than peanut butter, you just don't understand English.
XXX
h. hanff
girl etymologist"
"Or didn't I ever tell you that I write arty murders for Ellery Queen on television? All my scripts have artistic backgrounds - ballet, concert hall, opera - and all of the suspects and corpses are cultured. maybe I'll do one about the rare book business in your honor, you want to be the murderer or the corpse?"
"DO YOU MEAN TO SIT THERE AND TELL ME YOU'VE BEEN PUBLISHING THESE MAMMOTH CATALOGUES ALL THESE YEARS AND THIS IS THE FIRST TIME YOU EVER BOTHERED TO SEND ME ONE? THOU VARLET!
Don't remember which restoration playwright called everybody a varlet, i always wanted to use it in a sentence."
Helene Hanff signed many of her letters, hh. Besides being the initials of her name, those letters could stand for humanity and humor.
I look forward to my next visit to the pages of this book.
Edit - June 8, 2023 - Last year, I reconnected with a friend with I'd lost touch for over 20 years. The fault in losing touch was mine and I was happy that she accepted my apology for losing touch and that we were able to resume our friendship. She's a calligrapher and a designer and she insisted that we correspond through letters rather than through the internet. The result of that is that I receive wonderful letters and notes written in calligraphic style. I've wondered what the woman who delivers our mail thinks about them?
Unfortunately, my handwriting is such that my friend receives computer generated printed letters, though they do arrive in the mail.
It's a lovely thing to receive "real" letters once again.
July 24, 2023
5 stars - A lovely re-read, for maybe the 5th time or more - It’s one of my all-time favorite books ever & a very sweet palate cleanser after reading some real duds. I so adore the time setting (post-WWII England & NYC) and the epistolary nature of this dear little ode to books & booksellers everywhere.
November 13, 2019
A charming post-war memoir that will appeal to anyone with a love of books - not just the stories contained within them, but the objects themselves. Quick, yet it shall stay with me longer after I’ve turned the final page.
If you enjoyed The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, you’ll love this equally.
If you enjoyed The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, you’ll love this equally.
September 12, 2022
I loved this book. Part of that was probably a consequence of particularities: I read it while travelling last week (in Lisbon, not in London, but I nonetheless felt as if I shared a mindset with Hanff, toting a bag of books and keeping a travel journal of my own as I went), and I remember so well my own first time in London many years ago. On that similarly giddy trip I visited many of the same places Hanff does here and, it seems, loved them in much the same bibliophile’s way. There’s a lot for just about anyone to enjoy in 84, Charing Cross Road, the correspondence between Hanff and a Charing Cross Road book dealer from 1949 to 1969, but I might have been especially well placed to become absorbed in The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street, the 1971 travel diary that comprises the second half of this volume.
Hanff herself is charming. She’s sweet, naïve and in her way savvy at once, instantly likable, savagely witty, and ultimately something of a tragic figure.
The sequel, The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street, is a celebration of travel and its effect on the soul—travel not as tourism but as pilgrimage, almost as homecoming. Here, too, I might be especially sentimental and thus unusually hospitable a reader. I can’t know or say, but I do think there’s something here for any lover of books and literature-focused travel. And I think this also succeeds in the end as a study in character, if that’s the right word for the version of herself that Hanff offers us here: a reluctant, self-effacing new minor literary celebrity shyly adapting to her sudden attention and belated celebration, an obviously lonely fiftysomething confirmed bachelorette who seems to yearn to transcend her own antisocial tendencies and malaprop way of being, and a gleeful visitor, tender-hearted in spite of herself, who cries at the sight of famous tombs in old churches. It was a joy to spend this time with her, and I’d have happily done with another hundred pages of it.
Hanff herself is charming. She’s sweet, naïve and in her way savvy at once, instantly likable, savagely witty, and ultimately something of a tragic figure.
The sequel, The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street, is a celebration of travel and its effect on the soul—travel not as tourism but as pilgrimage, almost as homecoming. Here, too, I might be especially sentimental and thus unusually hospitable a reader. I can’t know or say, but I do think there’s something here for any lover of books and literature-focused travel. And I think this also succeeds in the end as a study in character, if that’s the right word for the version of herself that Hanff offers us here: a reluctant, self-effacing new minor literary celebrity shyly adapting to her sudden attention and belated celebration, an obviously lonely fiftysomething confirmed bachelorette who seems to yearn to transcend her own antisocial tendencies and malaprop way of being, and a gleeful visitor, tender-hearted in spite of herself, who cries at the sight of famous tombs in old churches. It was a joy to spend this time with her, and I’d have happily done with another hundred pages of it.
December 28, 2020
Oh my goodness. One of the MOST charming, funny books I’ve ever read. It was a delight from start to finish.
July 11, 2016
In October 1949 Helene Hanff, a single woman living and working in her small New York apartment, responded to an ad placed in the Saturday Review of Literature by Marks & Co, a bookshop in London that specialized in used books. Thus began a two-decade long correspondence and friendship between the reserved bookseller and the irrepressible Miss Hanff.
What a delight it is to be allowed to watch this growing relationship, fueled by a shared love of books, and an ability to laugh at oneself and one’s follies. I laughed aloud in places. I shared her outrage at books being torn apart to use as wrapping, and then agreed with Frank Doel’s explanation on the practicality of this practice. I marveled at their generosity – not just in the gifts they gave one another, but more importantly, their generosity of spirit, how they gave so freely of their thoughts, gratitude, wishes, grievances, and forgiveness.
I saw the movie, starring Anne Bancroft, many years ago. As I read the letters, I could not help but picture Bancroft and Anthony Hopkins as Helene and Frank. I’m so happy that Hanff decided to publish it, and that Doel’s family gave their wholehearted permission and encouragement to her to do so.
As with most books I read these days, I got this from the library, but I’m going to go out and buy a copy for myself. It’s the kind of book I’ll read over and over just for the sheer joy of it.
What a delight it is to be allowed to watch this growing relationship, fueled by a shared love of books, and an ability to laugh at oneself and one’s follies. I laughed aloud in places. I shared her outrage at books being torn apart to use as wrapping, and then agreed with Frank Doel’s explanation on the practicality of this practice. I marveled at their generosity – not just in the gifts they gave one another, but more importantly, their generosity of spirit, how they gave so freely of their thoughts, gratitude, wishes, grievances, and forgiveness.
I saw the movie, starring Anne Bancroft, many years ago. As I read the letters, I could not help but picture Bancroft and Anthony Hopkins as Helene and Frank. I’m so happy that Hanff decided to publish it, and that Doel’s family gave their wholehearted permission and encouragement to her to do so.
As with most books I read these days, I got this from the library, but I’m going to go out and buy a copy for myself. It’s the kind of book I’ll read over and over just for the sheer joy of it.
November 20, 2025
My edition actually contains both the original correspondence published in 84, Charing Cross Road and also Hanff's diaries from her time in London, published separately as The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street. The first half is just so sweet and heartwarming that I have decided to rate for that and not the second half, which I found quite boring and skimmed over.
I don't choose a lot of nice, warm, fuzzy reads. I'm more of a thrills and emotional turmoil kind of reader. But I have to admit it was so lovely reading the letters between Helene Hanff in New York and Frank Doel at the London bookshop Marks & Co. The very fact that they kept it going for so many years, that they shared so much friendship and humour despite never actually meeting, was wonderful. So much of their personalities was put into their letters, as well as a genuine love of literature.
I read it in a single day.
I don't choose a lot of nice, warm, fuzzy reads. I'm more of a thrills and emotional turmoil kind of reader. But I have to admit it was so lovely reading the letters between Helene Hanff in New York and Frank Doel at the London bookshop Marks & Co. The very fact that they kept it going for so many years, that they shared so much friendship and humour despite never actually meeting, was wonderful. So much of their personalities was put into their letters, as well as a genuine love of literature.
I read it in a single day.
November 27, 2016
A short and charming read with a quirky and eccentric protagonist. Even though things started appearing to be a bit monotonous but then again, since the book is based on real life exchange of letters, one should not expect it to be...too eventful?
Nevertheless reading this definitely acted as a palate cleanser amidst all my other reads.
Nevertheless reading this definitely acted as a palate cleanser amidst all my other reads.
March 14, 2022
This book grew on me, particularly in the final third. I initially struggled with it. Had I good grasp of early English literature I would have been more at home, but I ended up being enamoured with the quirky Helene Hanff, who was in a way, coolly batty. If that is even a thing to be! She was hilarious, self-deprecating at times but lovely.
I will add a lot of quotes here, to convey her. She must be seen to be believed. Helene carried out a twenty-year mail correspondence from her home in New York to a London bookstore, Marks & Co., and these letters in turn were published. Subsequently Helene finally managed to visit London, a town which she seemed to be obsessed, and unable to visit on a struggling writer’s wage. This visit was the sequel entitled The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street. The edition I read contained both. I can relate to the author. I have a burning desire to visit New York. One day I will!
By the time she finally made the trip, the owner of the store had died and the dream to meet him did not come to fruition, but not a single moment of her time did she waste! So full of visits and sightseeing, and promotion of her first book. She’d also had major surgery a short time before, but never once considered staying in her lodgings to be any sort of holiday or adventure. She had not a dime to her name but made it from a loan or two from friends and family, and the publisher paying for her accommodation, and lots of adoring fans taking her out for meals.
I loved reading about all the handwritten notes left for her at reception on a daily basis, of course so normal at that time. So many notes requesting her presence, and fan mail too.
I didn’t mean to make this so long; I just fell in love with more and more passages.
I finally found the perfect page-cutter? It’s a pearl-handled fruit knife. My mother left me a dozen of them, I keep one in the pencil cup on my desk. Maybe I go with the wrong kind of people but I’m just not likely to have twelve guests all sitting around simultaneously eating fruit.
Kill yourself tying an ascot and it comes out French-style. Story of my life.
And how was I to know the miracle waiting to happen round the corner in late middle age 84 Charing Cross Road was no best seller, you understand; it didn’t make me rich or famous. It just got me hundreds of letters and phone calls from people I never knew existed; it got me wonderful reviews; it restored a self-confidence and self-esteem I’d lost somewhere along the way..
On waiting to be served seated at the counter in a coffee shop for some time, being told it was shut At high noon on a Saturday with the store open and jammed with shoppers, the coffee shop closed. Which is what I call having a good strong Union.
A curb’s a kerb, a check’s a cheque, a racket’s a racquet – and just to confuse you further, jail is spelled ‘gaol’ and pronounced ‘jail’. And a newsstand’s a kiosk, a subway’s the tube, a cigar store’s a chemist, a bus is a coach..
My problem is that while other people are reading fifty books I’m reading one book fifty times.
…looking after him I purely hated myself because I hadn’t bothered to ask his name. People oughtn’t to breeze into your life and out again in ten seconds, without even leaving a name behind.
Maybe that’s why I love cities. There’s not a row of houses in London that could possibly be mistaken for New York. There isn’t a square block in Manhattan that will ever for a moment remind you of London.
A singing off of a fan letter -Genuflections.. Imagine!
"PRINCESS ANNE HAS OVARIAN CYST REMOVED". I mean, you’re a young girl reared in heavily guarded seclusion and every beer drinker in every pub knows the precise state of your ovaries.
One of these days I’m going to write a book about living in New York – in a sixteen story apartment house complete with families, bachelors, career girls, a ninety-year-old Village Idiot and a doorman who can tell you name and apartment number of every one of the twenty-seven resident dogs. I am so tired of being told what a terrible place New York is to live by people who don’t live there.
A very quirky book indeed, which matches the author spectacularly. She wrote other things but what kept her memory alive the most were the screen adaptions of this book, and the movie. Her residence in New York was named Charing Cross House in her honour. Also a plaque is placed there, as well as at 84 Charing Cross Road in London. Which now is a MacDonald's. I Googled a lot while reading this, and found all aspects of her fascinating.
I will add a lot of quotes here, to convey her. She must be seen to be believed. Helene carried out a twenty-year mail correspondence from her home in New York to a London bookstore, Marks & Co., and these letters in turn were published. Subsequently Helene finally managed to visit London, a town which she seemed to be obsessed, and unable to visit on a struggling writer’s wage. This visit was the sequel entitled The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street. The edition I read contained both. I can relate to the author. I have a burning desire to visit New York. One day I will!
By the time she finally made the trip, the owner of the store had died and the dream to meet him did not come to fruition, but not a single moment of her time did she waste! So full of visits and sightseeing, and promotion of her first book. She’d also had major surgery a short time before, but never once considered staying in her lodgings to be any sort of holiday or adventure. She had not a dime to her name but made it from a loan or two from friends and family, and the publisher paying for her accommodation, and lots of adoring fans taking her out for meals.
I loved reading about all the handwritten notes left for her at reception on a daily basis, of course so normal at that time. So many notes requesting her presence, and fan mail too.
I didn’t mean to make this so long; I just fell in love with more and more passages.
I finally found the perfect page-cutter? It’s a pearl-handled fruit knife. My mother left me a dozen of them, I keep one in the pencil cup on my desk. Maybe I go with the wrong kind of people but I’m just not likely to have twelve guests all sitting around simultaneously eating fruit.
Kill yourself tying an ascot and it comes out French-style. Story of my life.
And how was I to know the miracle waiting to happen round the corner in late middle age 84 Charing Cross Road was no best seller, you understand; it didn’t make me rich or famous. It just got me hundreds of letters and phone calls from people I never knew existed; it got me wonderful reviews; it restored a self-confidence and self-esteem I’d lost somewhere along the way..
On waiting to be served seated at the counter in a coffee shop for some time, being told it was shut At high noon on a Saturday with the store open and jammed with shoppers, the coffee shop closed. Which is what I call having a good strong Union.
A curb’s a kerb, a check’s a cheque, a racket’s a racquet – and just to confuse you further, jail is spelled ‘gaol’ and pronounced ‘jail’. And a newsstand’s a kiosk, a subway’s the tube, a cigar store’s a chemist, a bus is a coach..
My problem is that while other people are reading fifty books I’m reading one book fifty times.
…looking after him I purely hated myself because I hadn’t bothered to ask his name. People oughtn’t to breeze into your life and out again in ten seconds, without even leaving a name behind.
Maybe that’s why I love cities. There’s not a row of houses in London that could possibly be mistaken for New York. There isn’t a square block in Manhattan that will ever for a moment remind you of London.
A singing off of a fan letter -Genuflections.. Imagine!
"PRINCESS ANNE HAS OVARIAN CYST REMOVED". I mean, you’re a young girl reared in heavily guarded seclusion and every beer drinker in every pub knows the precise state of your ovaries.
One of these days I’m going to write a book about living in New York – in a sixteen story apartment house complete with families, bachelors, career girls, a ninety-year-old Village Idiot and a doorman who can tell you name and apartment number of every one of the twenty-seven resident dogs. I am so tired of being told what a terrible place New York is to live by people who don’t live there.
A very quirky book indeed, which matches the author spectacularly. She wrote other things but what kept her memory alive the most were the screen adaptions of this book, and the movie. Her residence in New York was named Charing Cross House in her honour. Also a plaque is placed there, as well as at 84 Charing Cross Road in London. Which now is a MacDonald's. I Googled a lot while reading this, and found all aspects of her fascinating.
January 12, 2020
This correspondence between the New York author Helene Hanff and the staff of a second hand Book Shop in London spans a total of 20 years from 1949 to 1969. It is a book about the love of literature in general and the love of old and beautiful books in particular. But it is also a book about charity between book lovers who lived in a time, when patience was still needed. The patience to wait weeks for the pen pal‘s response on the other side of the ocean. The patience to chase after a certain book in a particular edition for years, until it is finally found. Nowadays, everything happens immediately. The mail is in a second with the recipient on the other side of the globe. A special book can be found and ordered from the sofa worldwide. Such a conversation as between Helene Hanff and Frank Doel, an employee of the bookstore, is rarely found, perhaps even in part here on Goodreads.
Helene and Frank are completely different in terms of language, origin, culture and nature. Helene seems to be the typical extroverted and noisy American by her writing style, while Frank is the typical British with his courtesy and reservedness. But Frank likes the humour of the pretentious customer from New York and so it is interesting how they approach linguistically. In addition to a great deal of information about literature, the correspondence tells us a lot about the living conditions in the post-war years in England. These are characterized by scarcity of food and clothing. Helene delights the staff of the bookstore with regular care packages. Everyone longs to meet Helene in person in London In one of these days, but the author's finances do not allow this. This is a very unique book. Thanks to Christine for the recommendation.
Helene and Frank are completely different in terms of language, origin, culture and nature. Helene seems to be the typical extroverted and noisy American by her writing style, while Frank is the typical British with his courtesy and reservedness. But Frank likes the humour of the pretentious customer from New York and so it is interesting how they approach linguistically. In addition to a great deal of information about literature, the correspondence tells us a lot about the living conditions in the post-war years in England. These are characterized by scarcity of food and clothing. Helene delights the staff of the bookstore with regular care packages. Everyone longs to meet Helene in person in London In one of these days, but the author's finances do not allow this. This is a very unique book. Thanks to Christine for the recommendation.
April 2, 2023
It’s certainly good to know that someone so many miles away can be so kind and generous to people they haven’t even seen...
✉️✉️✉️
**UPDATE** There’s also the movie !
✉️✉️✉️
[از سری ریویو-استوری های بی ربط]
یک.
نامه
نوشتنش بیشتر
خواندنش هزارباره تر
نمیدانم چند سالگی. الفبا نمیدانم. نقاشیهایم را به سمت همه دراز میکنم که "بخوان!". خنده ها.
دوباره چند سالگی. خواندن و نوشتنی بیش از "باید"ها بلدم. در مدرسه میگویند درباره گذراندن تعطیلات بنویسید و من تمام سال را نامه نوشتهام. به معلمها. دوست ها. و به آدمبزرگ های داخل خانهام. تمام سال اینجا و آنجا برایشان یادداشت گذاشتهام و جواب نگرفته ام. نامههایم را دورتر میفرستم. فامیلی که جنوبتر از من درس میخواند و زبان نامهها را بلد است. دو روز در ماه زنده ام. روزی که به نوشتن نامه میگذرد, و روزی که جواب نامه میرسد
دو.
اگر بنویسی و نخواند؟ اگر هیچ نشانی نداشته باشی؟ اگر بنویسی به امید اینکه شاید بخواند؟ اگر نداند و نخواند؟ اگر بداند و نخواند؟ اگر... چه کار کنی؟ یک وبلاگ میزنی. چهار سال مداوم می نویسی. طاقت نمیاوری. آدرس وبلاگت را میفرستی. میخواند و جواب میدهد. میخواند و می فهمد. میخواند و نمینویسد. به جایش همدیگر را میبینید و بعد یک روز دیگر همدیگر را نمیبینید. نمیفهمد. نمی خواند. نمی نویسد. تمام می شوی. کلمات چهار ساله را به آتش میکشی. با یک کلیک. نامه مبارک است. اگر بداند و بخواند و جواب ندهد؟... هرگز دوباره نامه بی جواب نمینویسی.
نوشتن را فراموش میکنی.
سه.
هلن نویسنده ای ست در امریکا. یادم نیست چه شد که کتابفروشی ای در انگلستان را پیدا میکند و شروع میکند به سفارش کتاب و بعد نامه نگاریهای بیشتر و بیشتر با فرانک کتابفروش. فرانک سرد و تودار و جنتلمنی که ادب بینهایتش حرص آدم را درمیآورد. هلن شوخ است اما شوخی ندارد. آنقدر به نوشتن و مهربانیهایش ادامه میدهد تا دل فرانک نرم میشود. تا فرانک بعد از مدتها, یکی ا�� نامه هایش را اینطور شروع میکند: "هلن عزیز"... آیا خواندن نامههای سفارش کتاب برای خواننده لذتبخش هم هست؟ حوصله اش سر میرود حتما. شوخی میکنی؟ دو تا آدم واقعی, خیلی سال قبل, نشستهاند, زمان و کلمه و قلبشان را گذاشتهاند وسط. صبر کرده اند نامه برود, صبر کرده اند جواب نامه برگردد
ده ها سال دوستی توی آن کاغذها جا خوش کرده. هزاران احساس. آنجایی که هلن به دوستش میگوید از طرف من آن کتابفروشی را ببوس. "اگر زمانی از آن طرف رفتی, میشود به جای من ببوسیاش؟"... چند نامهی آخر با خبری ویران میشویم و چند صفحه بعدی را با عکس های سیاه و سفید لبخند میزنیم... هلن هیچوقت تردید نمیکند. همه چیز را مینویسد... آقای دوئل... فرانک... فرانک عزیز... مردک فلان فلان شده!... فرانکی...
چهار.
نامهها همیشه پررنگترین بخش زندگیام بودهاند; فراز و فرود زندگی ام. نوشتن, فرستادن, انتظار و بعد خواندن فراز بوده و نوشتن و نوشتن و نوشتن و جرات فرستادن نداشتن, فرود. دل را به دریاها زدن و نوشتن برای آدمها فرازم بوده و سکوت آدمها, فرود.
پشت سرم کوهی از نامههای فرستاده نشده است, روبهرویم اقیانوسی از سکوت...
May 26, 2019
Letters going between Helen Hanft and mostly Frank Doel is what this novel is about, but to say it like that does not explain what is so wonderful about these correspondences.
Helen is writing from America to a bookstore in London where Frank Doel works. This correspondence begins with her requesting to find nice books at a rate she can afford. The two begin to exchange letters that continue for years, until the untimely death of Frank.
Other members of the staff and Frank's wife also correspond with Helen.
To be honest it is hard to describe in words why this book is so great. It is in no way a romance, but there are true respect and connection between these characters.
It is a book that is based on a true story. I think what makes me like it so much is that in a world that believes it can't survive without an internet connection, two people spend years writing letters.
Helen is writing from America to a bookstore in London where Frank Doel works. This correspondence begins with her requesting to find nice books at a rate she can afford. The two begin to exchange letters that continue for years, until the untimely death of Frank.
Other members of the staff and Frank's wife also correspond with Helen.
To be honest it is hard to describe in words why this book is so great. It is in no way a romance, but there are true respect and connection between these characters.
It is a book that is based on a true story. I think what makes me like it so much is that in a world that believes it can't survive without an internet connection, two people spend years writing letters.
October 18, 2021
My love of epistolary novels is not new :O) Indeed, 11 years ago I went through a spell of reading all I could find, 84 Charing Cross Road being one of them, and what a gem it was.
This little tome collects twenty years of correspondence between Helen Hanff, a writer and booklover from New York City, and the staff at Marks & Co., a second-hand bookshop in London. Her main correspondent is Frank Doel, who finds most of the time great editions of the books she is looking for, but over the years she also makes friends with the other booksellers, Frank’s wife, and even an elderly friend of theirs.
The letters are warm and funny, especially in witnessing the very proper Englishman dealing with the effusions and eccentricities of the American. You can feel the respect and regard between the two, and although there is real friendship, there is also this space where each presents only one version of themselves.
The historical angle is also fascinating. The letters span from 1949 to 1969, covering the post-war food shortages in Britain. Helene is able to send her friends parcels with meat and eggs, and other things that weren’t widely available (or just too expensive), and the joy and gratefulness from both sides is palpable.
A lovely little book!
This little tome collects twenty years of correspondence between Helen Hanff, a writer and booklover from New York City, and the staff at Marks & Co., a second-hand bookshop in London. Her main correspondent is Frank Doel, who finds most of the time great editions of the books she is looking for, but over the years she also makes friends with the other booksellers, Frank’s wife, and even an elderly friend of theirs.
The letters are warm and funny, especially in witnessing the very proper Englishman dealing with the effusions and eccentricities of the American. You can feel the respect and regard between the two, and although there is real friendship, there is also this space where each presents only one version of themselves.
The historical angle is also fascinating. The letters span from 1949 to 1969, covering the post-war food shortages in Britain. Helene is able to send her friends parcels with meat and eggs, and other things that weren’t widely available (or just too expensive), and the joy and gratefulness from both sides is palpable.
A lovely little book!
January 17, 2025
American woman sends presumptuous and patronising letters to a London bookshop just after the war. They respond by being nice because she also regularly sends them food.
It's essentially an abusive and coercive relationship and I don't understand why none of you see it!
Bleurgh!!
It's essentially an abusive and coercive relationship and I don't understand why none of you see it!
Bleurgh!!
March 29, 2024
this was such a joy to read - definitely a must read for every reader at least once in their lifetime 🤍
December 10, 2015
This charming book is a record of the correspondence between an American author, Helen Hanff, and antiquarian bookshop in London called Marks & Co. This correspondence begun after Hanff saw an advert for them, where they declared themselves as specialists in acquiring out of print books. Her first letter was sent to them in 1949. In it she declared herself to be a badly off writer who had a taste for old books. With the letter was a list of books that she had been unable to source in New York, saying that she would be willing to pay up to $5 each for them.
The manager of the shop, Frank Doel, dealt with her order sending her some of the books on her list, and formally replying to her letter. This was the start of a relationship that was to last 20 years in the end. She was delighted with her purchases, and quickly replied with payment and a further list of books that she desired. Being American she was not used to the formality either, asking, I hope ‘madam’ doesn’t mean over there what it means over here...
After World War II when Britain was still in the grip of austerity and rationing, and having heard about this she generously sent the staff of Marks & Co a hamper, which included a large ham. She was then horrified to notice that on the invoices that one of the owners was M Cohen. A short note was hurriedly sent, apologising and offering to send an alternative. The following Easter she sent another package with real eggs in, up until now most people had had to put up with powdered eggs so this was a complete luxury. Slowly the formality was dropped, and Franke would address her as Helene; other members of staff would write to her, and even his wife, Nora.
Sadly she was not able to visit Marks & Co and see the sights of London whilst the letters were winging their way back and forwards over the Atlantic, and at the end of the Sixties she received news that Doel had passed away. She compiled these letters into a book, had them published and they became an overnight success, bring her out of the shadows of the publishing world to literary success. Publication of the book in the UK meant that she was invited over and finally got to spend time in London and other parts of the UK and met with Nora and her daughters.
I really enjoyed this book; Hanff is such a character and her boundless enthusiasm for all things literary comes across in her letters to Frank. Even though she is a hard up writer, she is generous to all the staff at the bookshop, building friendships across the Atlantic. Doel manages to lose his English reserve too as they write back and forth. One for anyone with a love of books and bookshops.
The manager of the shop, Frank Doel, dealt with her order sending her some of the books on her list, and formally replying to her letter. This was the start of a relationship that was to last 20 years in the end. She was delighted with her purchases, and quickly replied with payment and a further list of books that she desired. Being American she was not used to the formality either, asking, I hope ‘madam’ doesn’t mean over there what it means over here...
After World War II when Britain was still in the grip of austerity and rationing, and having heard about this she generously sent the staff of Marks & Co a hamper, which included a large ham. She was then horrified to notice that on the invoices that one of the owners was M Cohen. A short note was hurriedly sent, apologising and offering to send an alternative. The following Easter she sent another package with real eggs in, up until now most people had had to put up with powdered eggs so this was a complete luxury. Slowly the formality was dropped, and Franke would address her as Helene; other members of staff would write to her, and even his wife, Nora.
Sadly she was not able to visit Marks & Co and see the sights of London whilst the letters were winging their way back and forwards over the Atlantic, and at the end of the Sixties she received news that Doel had passed away. She compiled these letters into a book, had them published and they became an overnight success, bring her out of the shadows of the publishing world to literary success. Publication of the book in the UK meant that she was invited over and finally got to spend time in London and other parts of the UK and met with Nora and her daughters.
I really enjoyed this book; Hanff is such a character and her boundless enthusiasm for all things literary comes across in her letters to Frank. Even though she is a hard up writer, she is generous to all the staff at the bookshop, building friendships across the Atlantic. Doel manages to lose his English reserve too as they write back and forth. One for anyone with a love of books and bookshops.
February 6, 2026
One day, back in 1949, a woman living in New York writes to a bookstore in London ordering a few antiquarian books. A man from the bookstore writes back while also sending the requested books, or as many as he could find. So begins nearly 20 years of conversations about books, life and everything in between, and so also begins a beautiful friendship between two people, and more are roped in along the way. As one letter follows another, many lives are forever intertwined, and in scope of those lives, some leave to find foreign adventures and fall out of touch, some just move away and then come back, and some straddle their unstable lives as best as they can, sharing anecdotes, presents, books and experiences with each other from continents afar.
Long distance friendships, conversations about books, shared experiences sound a lot like Bookstagram, don’t they? To find kindred spirits from far away, or even from closer to home but removed from our social circles, is one of the biggest joys of life. We should know, for we have experienced it first hand. Ours is not so much a pen friendship, as the term has now come to be redefined, what with us being in conversation with many people across multiple locations all at once, with just a click and in real time, but in pursuit for a quick fix solution to connection, we have lost a beautiful mode of getting in touch with each other.
Oh, what magic it is to find friendship, in whichever form they come to be a part of our lives.
This book is just a collection of letters arranged in order of first to last correspondence, not a word changed, nothing embellished for effect, just a few people talking to each other about their lives, and to read their stories is unabashedly joyful, and while tears streamed down as I read the last couple of letters, there was something comforting in having known and been a part of some beautiful friendships, and immense generosity and genuineness.
It leaves a lingering, even if bittersweet, taste of life made beautiful by friendship, and all that it can mean to us in mind numbingly ordinary yet life-defining ways. 5 stars!
Long distance friendships, conversations about books, shared experiences sound a lot like Bookstagram, don’t they? To find kindred spirits from far away, or even from closer to home but removed from our social circles, is one of the biggest joys of life. We should know, for we have experienced it first hand. Ours is not so much a pen friendship, as the term has now come to be redefined, what with us being in conversation with many people across multiple locations all at once, with just a click and in real time, but in pursuit for a quick fix solution to connection, we have lost a beautiful mode of getting in touch with each other.
Oh, what magic it is to find friendship, in whichever form they come to be a part of our lives.
This book is just a collection of letters arranged in order of first to last correspondence, not a word changed, nothing embellished for effect, just a few people talking to each other about their lives, and to read their stories is unabashedly joyful, and while tears streamed down as I read the last couple of letters, there was something comforting in having known and been a part of some beautiful friendships, and immense generosity and genuineness.
It leaves a lingering, even if bittersweet, taste of life made beautiful by friendship, and all that it can mean to us in mind numbingly ordinary yet life-defining ways. 5 stars!
October 6, 2024
I wish I could give this the same glowing reviews everyone else seems to have given but I found it to be a mostly inoffensive and ordinary piece. It should be noted that I HATE reading letters in books (not necessarily epistolary novels but specifically books where each page is a letter). I just don't enjoy reading them and find myself instinctively skimming them with my eyes. And that's what this novel (memoir) is: a New York woman writing to a book shop in London over two decades and developing relationships with the staff at the book shop via these correspondences.
I've seen lots of people describe the book as charming but honestly there were parts where I thought Hanff was frankly a little entitled and rude (some may dismiss that as her sense of humour) when demanding books; and occasionally she was even a little patronising as she sent them powdered egg and meat during the 50s period of rationing. I dunno. None of it seemed especially charming to me. It was certainly quaint and interesting and the books she wanted access to were unique and worthy of further discussion. But ultimately, it's still just people writing letters back and forth and maybe that's what's so appealing, the nostalgia of a time when people (even strangers) could do such things in a manner that suggested significance, hope, even romance. Oh, to write to a book shop across an ocean and ask them to find me a rare, leather bound copy of a childhood classic and develop a connection with them. Maybe we'll meet up some Christmas and share stories over mulled wine. Who knows.
I found the sequel (which I also read) slightly more interesting. The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street sees Hanff finally get to England in 1971 (sadly too late to meet Frank, her primary correspondence at the book shop, who died in 1968). She takes in the sights and meets many of the people she had been communicating with and even hangs about with Joyce Grenfell for some reason. This was a little more readable but still nothing that really blew me away.
I would still recommend this book to people, however, as they, like so many others it seems, might be one of those individuals who finds it to be heart-wrenchingly romantic and sweet. Sadly, it didn't really have that effect on me.
I've seen lots of people describe the book as charming but honestly there were parts where I thought Hanff was frankly a little entitled and rude (some may dismiss that as her sense of humour) when demanding books; and occasionally she was even a little patronising as she sent them powdered egg and meat during the 50s period of rationing. I dunno. None of it seemed especially charming to me. It was certainly quaint and interesting and the books she wanted access to were unique and worthy of further discussion. But ultimately, it's still just people writing letters back and forth and maybe that's what's so appealing, the nostalgia of a time when people (even strangers) could do such things in a manner that suggested significance, hope, even romance. Oh, to write to a book shop across an ocean and ask them to find me a rare, leather bound copy of a childhood classic and develop a connection with them. Maybe we'll meet up some Christmas and share stories over mulled wine. Who knows.
I found the sequel (which I also read) slightly more interesting. The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street sees Hanff finally get to England in 1971 (sadly too late to meet Frank, her primary correspondence at the book shop, who died in 1968). She takes in the sights and meets many of the people she had been communicating with and even hangs about with Joyce Grenfell for some reason. This was a little more readable but still nothing that really blew me away.
I would still recommend this book to people, however, as they, like so many others it seems, might be one of those individuals who finds it to be heart-wrenchingly romantic and sweet. Sadly, it didn't really have that effect on me.
June 4, 2022
Just after WW2, American writer Helene Hanff, after making enquirers about some second hand books she was looking for, began a lively correspondence with a London book shop, which turned into a long friendship with the shop's staff....especially Frank Doel...and eventually some of the staff's families.
Helene shows great kindness to her long distance friends....realising that rationing is still very much a part of their lives, she organises food parcels to be delivered, to be shared out and provide a little luxury in those austere times.
Her taste in reading is eclectic, and Frank is always on the lookout for the perfect volume to satisfy Helene's love of books.
Her letters are full of humour and honesty, and her love of literature shines through, as does her friendship with her long distance fellow book lovers.
Helene shows great kindness to her long distance friends....realising that rationing is still very much a part of their lives, she organises food parcels to be delivered, to be shared out and provide a little luxury in those austere times.
Her taste in reading is eclectic, and Frank is always on the lookout for the perfect volume to satisfy Helene's love of books.
Her letters are full of humour and honesty, and her love of literature shines through, as does her friendship with her long distance fellow book lovers.
May 18, 2012
This delightful little book is a collection of letters between Helene Hanff and Frank Doel, a bookseller in a London antiquarian book store. Helene, who lived in New York City, was a writer who loved old British classic books. She wrote very humorous letters to Frank which he shared with his coworkers and family. During a period of rationing in Britain after World War II, Helene was generous to the booksellers, sending them packages of food. They sent back presents of beautiful books and needlework to her. Although Helene never met Frank, a true friendship built up during years of correspondence about the old books that they both cherished. This volume would put a smile on the face of any book lover.
September 9, 2024
This book was recommended to me by a dear GR friend, and then I looked at the reviews here on GR and saw that many of my other GR friends had read and enjoyed it, too; and, actually, it's not that often that my GR friends like a book so unanimously. (So I bought the book at once, but, shamefully, it took me some time to get to actually read it).
I think that if you're here on GR, you probably like books, and maybe you like writing about books,—and this is what this book is about. It is also atmospheric. '84 Charing Cross Road' is a collection of letters, but do not be made uneasy by a recollection of 'Pamela' of something like that, they're very short, humane, and touching letters. On the other hand, 'The Duchess...' is a diary, and who doesn't like that format.
I enjoyed plenty of things here. It so happens that this book glorifies Q, whom I am kind of gradually falling in love with. It also glorifies writing letters, and I do wholeheartedly believe that people are at their best when they're writing letters (or emails, or GR messages). It also has this special kind of nostalgia for things unexperienced, a longing for England that, though definitely not entirely imaginary, likely doesn't exist for a lot of people... you know, the 'Midnight in Paris' kind of thing, but about London.
A most enjoyable read.
I enjoyed the film, too! I have a vague memory from childhood of a film where a lady was supposed to perform on stage, but couldn't because her enemies thwarted her, so she decided to just read the newspaper out loud instead, and she still was a success. I have absolutely no idea what that film could have been, but apparently, great actors can do just that, they captivate us no matter what they do, even if they're just reading something out loud. Nothing much happens in the film, and yet it's much more watchable than many modern and likely more expensive productions.
And I don't have any quotes written out because it's the atmosphere of the book that's so charming, one has to be immersed in it to feel it; I've seen phrases quoted from this book, but out of context, they seem more snobbish then they do when you read them in their place.
So, cheers to books and bookish friendship!
I think that if you're here on GR, you probably like books, and maybe you like writing about books,—and this is what this book is about. It is also atmospheric. '84 Charing Cross Road' is a collection of letters, but do not be made uneasy by a recollection of 'Pamela' of something like that, they're very short, humane, and touching letters. On the other hand, 'The Duchess...' is a diary, and who doesn't like that format.
I enjoyed plenty of things here. It so happens that this book glorifies Q, whom I am kind of gradually falling in love with. It also glorifies writing letters, and I do wholeheartedly believe that people are at their best when they're writing letters (or emails, or GR messages). It also has this special kind of nostalgia for things unexperienced, a longing for England that, though definitely not entirely imaginary, likely doesn't exist for a lot of people... you know, the 'Midnight in Paris' kind of thing, but about London.
A most enjoyable read.
I enjoyed the film, too! I have a vague memory from childhood of a film where a lady was supposed to perform on stage, but couldn't because her enemies thwarted her, so she decided to just read the newspaper out loud instead, and she still was a success. I have absolutely no idea what that film could have been, but apparently, great actors can do just that, they captivate us no matter what they do, even if they're just reading something out loud. Nothing much happens in the film, and yet it's much more watchable than many modern and likely more expensive productions.
And I don't have any quotes written out because it's the atmosphere of the book that's so charming, one has to be immersed in it to feel it; I've seen phrases quoted from this book, but out of context, they seem more snobbish then they do when you read them in their place.
So, cheers to books and bookish friendship!
June 29, 2016
“If you happen to pass by 84 Charing Cross Road, kiss it for me! I owe it so much.”
Even though the bookshop itself is long gone, you can rest assured that I will be walking by where it stood next time I am in London. I shall buy a new copy of 84 Charing Cross Road and I shall leave it there for someone to find, a reminder of just how much Helene Hanff, even at a distance, loved the place.
You see, I feel like I too owe it quite a lot. If it weren’t for the bookshop and the wonderful people that kept it going for as long as it did, this book would not be a reality, and that’s not something I can live with. Honestly, I can no longer imagine a world without the existence of this little peculiar and hopeful family.
People brought together by books. Real people brought together by real books. It’s like witnessing firsthand a favorite meet-cute crossing the ever-changing line that both separates and connects fiction and reality. It happened. For me, it was an infusion of hope and wonder, wrapped in a collection of letters that speak of gratitude, that speak of dreams, laughs, and that sheds some tears.
These voices, these people, they become alive in your head from the moment you first meet them, from the moment you first read their words. They are a delightful bunch, let me tell you. Their company is entertaining beyond reason, and you soon find yourself involved as if you were always part of the whole scheme.
“People oughtn’t to breeze into your life and out again in ten seconds, without leaving even a name behind. As Mr. Dickens once pointed out, we’re all on our way to the grave together.”
I have yet to sit down for a couple of lifetimes and consider the concept of coincidence, but the truth is that this book has already played its wonderful magic on me. I have met someone through its pages that would have otherwise probably remained a stranger for eternity. This person from what feels like a world away wrote to me because her edition was lacking a page – we have been talking ever since.
September 29, 2020
На самом деле, мне совсем не понравилось.
Надо быть в очень благодушном настроении, чтобы читать эту милую переписку, полную так сказать дружеских подтруниваний и острот. Если вас все кругом в жизни заебало, не читайте ее, пожалуйста, сейчас.
Надо быть в очень благодушном настроении, чтобы читать эту милую переписку, полную так сказать дружеских подтруниваний и острот. Если вас все кругом в жизни заебало, не читайте ее, пожалуйста, сейчас.
May 20, 2015
‘An unmitigated delight from cover to cover’ it says on the cover of my book, and that is exactly what it is. This little volume is divided into two parts: The first part is the epistolary story (it’s not a novel; it’s too short plus it’s not fiction) - a letter exchange between Helene Hanff, book collector living in New York, and the manager of a second-hand book shop in London (and some of the people in his vicinity) lasting over twenty years. The second part, The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street, is the aftermath of the letters being published in a book and Helene Hanff’s reception in London, which was every bit as good as the first part, to me.
These two sections – this book – had it all from my perspective: humour, sensitivity, books, London, human connections. I alternately found myself smiling and laughing, and simply drank in all of it. Helene Hanff’s crazy, dry, New York sense of humour was fresh and delightful, perhaps especially so because of its juxtaposition to some of the kind, polite Englishmen she writes to and ultimately meets. The book is certainly not new; it was published in 1971, and the author passed away in 1997. I suspect, however, that it will continue to be in print for many years to come.
If you suffer just the least bit from anglomania and consider yourself to have a pretty good sense of humour and a sensitive heart, you must read this book.
These two sections – this book – had it all from my perspective: humour, sensitivity, books, London, human connections. I alternately found myself smiling and laughing, and simply drank in all of it. Helene Hanff’s crazy, dry, New York sense of humour was fresh and delightful, perhaps especially so because of its juxtaposition to some of the kind, polite Englishmen she writes to and ultimately meets. The book is certainly not new; it was published in 1971, and the author passed away in 1997. I suspect, however, that it will continue to be in print for many years to come.
If you suffer just the least bit from anglomania and consider yourself to have a pretty good sense of humour and a sensitive heart, you must read this book.
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