Hanff, Helene. Apple of My Eye. New York: Doubleday 1978. Print.
On April Fool's Day, I came home from a meeting with a publisher, hurried through my apartment-house lobby and told all the tenants waiting at the elevator:
"I've got the dream assignment of all time! I'm going to write copy for a book of photographs of New York City."
Description:
But there is one problem: Hanff, a born and raised New Yorker, has never visited any of these famous sites. So nothing would do but grab onto her friend Patsy, (someone who also has not seen these destinations) and set out to visit, observe, and take notes on the intriguing aspects of each location. The result of their frantic tour around New York in 1975 is the delightful, insightful book, Apple of My Eye, a tour-de-force that I highly recommend for any one interested in witty writing, overwhelmed tourists, and, of course, New York's iconic attractions.
With little money and no maps (or ones they were unable to decipher), the two women ride buses or walk to take in all the scenery tourists might come across, poking their heads into small restaurants, shops, and historic markers along the way. They refused to ride subways since that underground experience would rob tourists of the views of the city.
Going from Grant's Tomb to Zabar's was going from the sublime to the ridiculous or from the ridiculous to the sublime, I'll never be sure which.
They are game to see everything, but their acrophobia make them very hesitant to take the elevator to the top of the Statue of Liberty and the new-opened twin towers of the World Trade Center. (It was quite a shock to read about these towers from a New Yorker's perspective in 1975):
Throughout its construction, the World Trade Center was cordially detested by all New Yorkers. The unpopular Rockefeller brothers were so closely involved in the financing that for a while the twin towers were knows as Nelson and David....the financially desperate city didn't need two new 110-story office buildings and couldn't afford to supply them with services.
But later, when they had swallowed their acrophobia and made it to the Tower's Observation Deck, Hanff felt differently:
And suddenly, irrationally, I gloried in the highhanded, high-flying damn-your-eyes audacity that had sent the Trade Center's twin columns rising impudently above the skyline at the moment when New York was declared to be dying, and so deep in debt it couldn't afford workers to dispose of the Center's trash, police its plaza or put out its fires.
Of course, Hanff and Patsy have their differences. Hanff, who has done copious research, constantly quotes "interesting" statistics and detailed stories to a non-listening Patsy, while her friend is constantly worried that Hanff will not include items in the book that might attract tourists. Their dialogue in Battery Park is typical of their back-and-fourth exchanges:
[Hanff] "President Washington," I told Patsy -- though I knew from experience that the minute you start a sentence with "President Washington," everybody stops listening -- "used to stroll here on summer evenings with his wife and the members of the Cabinet..."
[Patsy] Who's on this slab? Did you write him down? Who's on that slab over there? Did you read this one? Write it down. You're not writing anything down....I think you're being very haphazard about this...Somewhere in this book you'd better write: "Everything in this book is half-accurate."
When they drink coffee outside the Metropolitan of Art, Hanff sits with her back to the museum "Which is he only way I will ever consent to sit." You see, Hanff is bitter that the Met takes up space "torn out of Central Park, which does not belong to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, it belongs to me. Me and a million other New Yorkers..."
They have judgmental observations about the people of New York as well:
West Siders look dowdy, scholarly, and slightly down-at-heel, and the look has nothing to do with money. They look like what a great many of them are: scholars, intellectuals, dedicated professionals, all of whom regard shopping for clothes as a colossal waster of time.
Witty, informative, personable, and always slyly funny. As a bonus, it's wonderful to see photos from that year of Central Park's model sailboat pond, the cable car over the East River to Roosevelt Island, Grand Central Station, the Metropolitan Opera House, St. Patrick's Cathedral, and yes, sadly, the World Trade Center towers. A wonderful overview of the city to accompany Hanff's text.
Hanff is the author of 84, Charing Cross Road, the epistolary story of her correspondence with a rare book dealer in London as she tries to procure obscure editions of favorite books. She is a very skilled wordsmith, someone you want to listen to forever as she reels off stories, demands, confusion, and self-reflection, all in witty, personable manner that makes you want to hear more and more.
I really love Apple of My Eye, especially since I have spent time in New York City over the past few years. Her descriptions of places I have seen, entered, or at least walked by struck a note that supported the idea that this is a great city during any age. And for anyone not familiar with New York, well, here's your chance to read all about it as you walk along side with Patsy and Hanff in their delightful explorations and observations.
Happy reading.
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If this book interests you, be sure to check out:
If this book interests you, be sure to check out:
Hayes, Bill. Insomniac City.
Author Hayes, newly moved to New York City after the death of his partner, loves wandering his new city late at night, talking with people, observing the world, and photographing the heart of New York, then sharing his thoughts with us lucky readers. Wonderful. (previously reviewed here)
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