CBR 17 BINGO: Favorite (revisiting this old favorite for Bingo)
BINGO: Favorite, Red, Family, Border, Green
Visiting local bookshops is standard practice whenever my husband and I go on vacation. Recently in Vancouver, we wandered into a store called MacLeod’s Books, which is one of those places where you can easily get lost among the piles. Books are roughly organized into genres, but each section is overwhelmed with stacks and stacks of volumes spilling over from the shelves. This is the type of place where the sales clerk has a story for every person checking out or asking about a book, and you never know what hidden gem you might find among the piles.
How perfect, then, that as I wandered over to see whether my husband was ready to leave, I glanced to my left and saw a Folio Society edition of 84, Charing Cross Road on a pile where it had no business being. I gasped and snatched it up. It was in perfect condition, the pages unsoiled and the binding unbent. Finding such a beautiful copy of this book–about a woman’s love affair with a bookshop–was pure serendipity.
If you haven’t read 84, Charing Cross Road, get ready to have your soul soothed. In 1949, New York writer Helene Hanff saw an advertisement for Marks & Co. in the Saturday Review of Literature and wrote to them to inquire about some out-of-print books she was hoping to get her hands on for a good price. Chief book-buyer for Marks & Co., Frank Doel, responded to her letter, and for the next 20 years the pair corresponded with each other, their transatlantic friendship growing with every inquiry and purchase. England being under rationing until 1954, Helene kindly had care packages of meat and eggs shipped over to her new friends to help celebrate holidays. When one Easter parcel arrived just as Frank left town, some of the staff risked his displeasure at communicating with “his” Miss Hanff by sending thank you notes to her directly, and so the readers get to know the rest of the crew at the shop. Over time, the letters got more personal, with Hanff sharing information about the status of television writing in New York, and one of the staff members sharing recipes for Yorkshire pudding. Frank’s wife, Nora, even got in on the fun and started corresponding. Sadly, in spite of many dreams and plans, Hanff didn’t make it over to England to visit Marks & Co. in person before her friend Frank died in 1969. She published the letters with the blessing of Frank’s family in 1970.
This story is so endearing that the first time I read it, I thought it was fiction. It’s heartwarming and funny and focuses on the kindness that can exist among people who have never met. Out of curiosity, I googled “books about books” and found a Goodreads lists with suggestions like Fahrenheit 451, The Name of the Rose, and Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore, all good (and eclectic) options, but for me, 84, Charing Cross Road is the ultimate story of books bringing people together (and I should note, it was listed as #3 on the Goodreads inventory).
I love a passage Hanff wrote to her friend in 1950, in which she responds to his hesitation to send something that she asked for so long ago, in case she had already found it somewhere else. “Never wonder if I’ve found something somewhere else, I don’t look anywhere else anymore. Why should I run all the way down to 17th St. to buy dirty, badly made books when I can buy clean, beautiful ones from you without leaving the typewriter? From where I sit, London’s a lot closer than 17th Street.”
As I consider the far-flung participants of this site, sharing their joy of reading with each other, this observation strikes me as particularly profound.