Stop for a minute and think, just think, about how many books there are in the world, how many books have been written or compiled and published. Even for the well-read (which I am according to multiple facebook and Barnes & Noble polls, thank you very much), the amount of books any one person has read compared to the amount currently in print is like a speck of pollen compared to a mountain. Or a Hoo to Horton. Tiny. That's how I feel when I come across a book like this.
You've probably at least heard of this book, or the play or movie adapted from it, but I am apparently completely out of it. Or I only read what they told me to in college. In one way it's kind of sad, and frustrating, and in another way, hooray! Think of all the books I have yet to read! I just hope I find all the good ones. As usual, the book club section at my public library is helping me with this. While waiting for my stack of beach reads to appear in my mailbox, I took the kids to the library and entrusted the seven year old with the life of the two year old while I perused the book club shelves, standing far back so I could read the titles at the bottom since I can't bend down over my seven and a half months pregnant belly. I got some weird glances, but hey, I am definitely not the weirdest character at my library on any given day.
I picked this one because A) It is short so I could read it before the mail order ones came and B) It is light, so I could talk the seven year old into carrying it in her library bag while I wrangled the two year old into the car and C) It looks British. What I was assigned to read in college was mostly British so it's a comfort area for me.
After all that, lo and behold, when I got home, I discovered this gem! It's a collection of letters between Helene Hanff, a New York freelance writer, and Frank Doel, an employee at a London used book store, beginning with a book order and ending up a truly darling friendship, cemented by a love of books. Hanff also includes letters she received from Doel's wife and other employees at the store, giving a fairly good picture of their wonderful relationship of cat and mouse, American and Londoner, blatant humor and dry humor. At times the letters are laugh out loud funny, as Hanff writes in all capitals when she accuses Doel of sending bad books and he replies with formal, understated jabs. Other times you want to cry at the sheer humanity that the people in the correspondence, who don't even know each other, demonstrate in the post-war world of 1949 to 1969.
Some short thoughts on a short book (I read it in a day):
I now want more than ever to revisit London, as Hanff continuously plans but never does in Doel's lifetime. I was sad to read that the bookstore is no longer (the building's not even there apparently) but there is so much more to see and show my husband! I won't waste time on this next trip going to the stupid Millenium Dome because some boy I like is going there.
I do not ever want to watch the movie, which I read implies a romantic relationship between them. Since Doel is married, I don't want that alleged infidelity to sully this dear slice of life. Also Anthony Hopkins plays him and I still see him as Hannibal Lector, not a nice man in a book shop.
I feel at once validated that I knew so many of the authors that Hanff requests from Doel, but since they're all British I feel embarrassed that I haven't read most of them, but since they're all really old I don't actually care that much in the end.
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