84, Charing Cross Road

I read 84, Charing Cross Road in one evening. And though its call number makes it plain that it’s a nonfictional work, somehow I forgot this as I was reading. An epistolary novel ( is it a novel?) that tells the tale of a 20-year correspondence between an American writer and an antiquarian bookseller, 84, Charing Cross Road maintains a near-perfect balance between personalities in the quiet development of a friendship. (Some reviewers have called it a love-affair, but I would call it a friendship.) It was so entertaining and interesting that it felt like an imaginary tale — till the end, where the illusion is broken abruptly by the intrusion of “real life.”

I enjoyed the acquaintance with fellow bibliophiles. My dissertation director was knowledgeable about antiquarian books, and I was reminded of him. I also enjoyed the larger-than-life personality of “H. Hanff,” whose sense of humor and delight in trying to break through her correspondent’s British decorum are balanced by active compassion; she sends food on different occasions to augment British rations after World War II.

One of the things I liked in Helene’s love for old books was her awareness of being one link in a chain, receiving books from previous readers and leaving her own marks for future readers who will inherit them some day. It seemed perfect that my library copy contained an inscription in the front. Apparently libraries acquire used copies of books from time to time!

Nosing around, I discovered this site, which provides further information and even some photos of characters and places in the book. I recommend the site for fans, and the book for anyone in search of a quick and moving read.