And, as many Facebook photos from the early 2000s will attest, there was also a time when I even wore the completely pointless black glasses without lenses. I still dress like Harriet to this day, right down to the cuffs on my baggy denim. In keeping with Fitzhugh’s iconic vision, Harriet proudly wears the same faux-spectacles, crumpled jeans with big turn-ups, the oversized hoodie, the pair of sneakers with long laces, and the leather belt from which hangs an assortment of tools that I always envied as a preteen. The other is from 1981, and rather than any illustrations, the cover instead hosts a photo of a girl dressed up as Harriet, and this is the version I remember most fondly. One is from 1974, with the original illustrations by Louise Fitzhugh in all their heartfelt precociousness. Out of love, I have two copies of Harriet the Spy.
For many, the book offered a rare chance to not feel like the odd one out, or better still, to be glad that they were the odd one out. Our smile gets a bit nervous when, towards the end of this highly perceptive commentary, we came upon this declaration “When I grow up, I'm going to find out everything about everybody and put it all in a book.B ring up Harriet the Spy at any queer gathering and you’ll hear at least a few happy shouts of appreciation. It's only fun, of course, to read the witty, laugh ‐ out ‐ loud, whole truth about other people-never about oneself. The fat's in the fire at last, however, when school chums pounce on the notebook and discover, alas, what she really thinks of them all. The aplomb of this highly talented observer may be ruffled but never daunted by the curiosities of adult behavior.
Her rounds are a daily peep show in which no one is spared, least of all closest friends.
After school she sallies forth in quest of knowledge-later documented in a secret notebook. Ole Golly, her nurse, encourages her to find out everything she can ‘cause life is hard enough even if you know a lot. We think she's delicious, but that's probably because she hasn't included us in her spy route-yet. WELSCH is an 11‐year‐old spy, partial to egg creams and tomato sandwiches, whose parents look upon her as though she were a curiosity put on television for their entertainment.
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