By accident I fell across the movie 84 Charing Cross Road starring a young Judy Dench and Anthony Hopkins on a British TV station. I had loved it when it came out in 1987 and I had love the book it was based on. It was one of the few movies that hadn't ruined the book.
The plot was based on the true story of New York based freelance writer Helen Hanff. Unable to find the English books she wanted in 1949, she ended up ordering them by mail from a bookstore at -- you guessed it -- 84 Charing Cross Road, London. It triggered a decades long-distance mail friendship the involved anti-ration care packages, funny notes, happiness and sadness.
Hanff wanted to go to England to meet the bookstore staff. When she had the money, dental work took precedence. I won't tell you what happened when her dream came true.
How different from today, when almost every book she wanted (excluding special editions or antiques) can be downloaded within minutes. As for international travel--well except for the pandemic, I can hop over to London on a whim. I do remember when I had to go once on business over a weekend, all I really wanted to do was to stay home and get caught up on my laundry.
The book is available today in many formats, and I'm tempted to order a copy. There's not a Kindle edition, which is appropriate. Hanff loved books not just for the words and wisdom, but for the feel and smell. Bindings, gold lettering, imagining who else's eyes had looked on the same pages hold a magic that kindle editions would not.
When I lived in Boston, a favorite bookstore was all old books. It had a special perfume of old paper and old leather. I could pop in on my lunch hour. Now, whether in Switzerland or France, if I want a book and it's after dinner, I simply download it.
The reading pleasure is the same. Words can be savored in any format, but I can't help feel something has been diminished in the anticipation of arrival, the touch, the imagination.
And then there's the relationship built between book lovers in New York and at 84 Charing Cross Road that can only be treasured.
It was another time.
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