Harriet the Spy

If I’d read this as a kid I would have struggled with the incessant meanness and how this bully of a main character never really changes her behavior or shows any sort of remorse, and in fact, she’s rewarded for being horrible. I doubt my child self would have been cool with any of that, especially since I could totally have seen myself as a Harriet target.

Reading this an adult however, I guess I was able to take this less seriously or personally than I likely would have as a sensitive kid, and while plenty of Harriet’s actions had me cringing and I did wish to see more of a comeuppance for her than she received, admittedly, I found Harriet entertaining.

Harriet’s obsession with tomato sandwiches was so odd that it couldn’t show more help feeling funny. Equally odd is reading something that’s considered a children’s classic constantly thinking okay here’s the moment when Harriet’s going to understand how hurtful she is and become apologetic, only this girl continuously doubles-down with her awfulness, her answer to everything seems to be I’ll do worse, that’ll teach them. It’s so unexpected to read a children’s book where basically no lessons are learned, combine that with Harriet’s brazen persistence in being horrible and you get something a little amusing and a bit dark, with an entirely unique feel to it. If you can get on board with the villain winning then this is a twisted sort of enjoyable, just, you know, don’t dwell on how miserable it would be to tangle with someone like Harriet in real life. show less

A thank you to Candace Bushnell for prompting my upcoming reread of this book. It was her choice of “ must read” to understand her New York.
From an article in The New York Times on January 31, 2025:
“ If I had to name just one book to read on New York, it would be “Harriet the Spy,” by Louise Fitzhugh, published in 1964. As a little girl living in the Connecticut suburbs at the time, I began dreaming of becoming a writer and living in New York City after reading this book. Harriet wasn’t necessarily likable (she wrote nasty stories about her friends, an apt description of a New York City writer) and aspired to something other than marriage and children. She was going to be a writer, which she considered the best possible show more existence; her best friend Janie was going to be a scientist. They truly believed they would somehow circumvent the rigid gender conventions and rampant sexism of that time. I’ll always remember how mentally freeing this message was, and I suppose that’s something I’ve always associated with New York. People come here to be their true selves.”

I’d forgotten how much Harriet’s personality annoys me, but I pretty much agree with what Candace Bushnell said. Everyone does not have to be likeable, and some of the best writers can turn out to be not such great human beings. show less

This book was mostly a "wow" for me. Wow in the sense of "How did I not read this as a child?" Wow in the sense of "How does Fitzhugh capture so well both middle-schooler behavior/thoughts/emotions and the confusion and obliviousness of their parents?"

As a person who, in eighth grade, got in trouble with my peer group for something I wrote that was read by people I didn't intend to see it, I'm in awe at the realness of Harriet's reactions to her classmates turning on her.

As a parent, I'm in awe at the realness of Harriet's parents' reactions and their cluelessness about both what's going on and what to do about it.

The only thing I wasn't quite on board with was all the household staff. I just don't get it. Was this a 60's thing? Were show more these particularly wealthy people? I know Harriet's school is a private school, but...a live-in nanny and a cook and a maid? It was interesting---and commendable---how much empathy Fitzhugh was able to employ in her portrayal of Harriet's parents. Here are people who try to outsource all of their child-rearing and just ignore their daughter until they absolutely can't anymore. Had I written this, I would not have had so much compassion for people who put themselves in this situation, but Fitzhugh did well, I think, showing them as human. They made choices, things happened as a result of these choices, and they adjusted. That's all we can expect of anyone---ourselves included---regardless of the exact nature of those choices.

And thank goodness the adults in the story didn't try to show Harriet "tough love" or send her to some middle-schooler boot camp to straighten out her bad attitude. Instead the adults, after a while, showed compassion for this child who was clearly reacting to pain that she didn't know how to express in a more socially acceptable way. Fitzhugh lets everyone in her book make mistakes, which is something I see way too little of in real life these days. We're so keen on zero tolerance and labeling and categorizing and pathologizing that we sometimes forget to see one another's humanity.

Okay, down off my soapbox now.

The key is, I felt good while reading this book. It reminded me to reserve judgment and to see both adults and children as human beings, especially when they're doing things of which I disapprove. show less

A counterculture children's novel that may be an acquired taste for some, like, for example, the Catcher in the Rye, but nonetheless unique and potentially avant-garde for its time. Its rebellious kookiness fits in perfectly with the estranged youth of the 60s, paving the way for kaleidoscopic Beatlemania, and Harriet's cocky stride on the iconic cover is the perfect bookend to Abbey Road. I didn't enjoy this novel much at first and thought its humour tasteless and crude, but when everything started to unravel about halfway through, after Harriet loses her notebook, I was forced to reassess my initial opinion. You don't really know the real Harriet till she hits rock bottom, and then you get to see just how emotionally blunted she has show more become as a result of her buried intelligence. Without a facet through which to express herself, Harriet becomes nothing but a vegetable (literally, an onion), and it takes Ole Golly's alternative methods to bring her back to herself. show less

Harriet M. Welsch is going to be a writer some day. For now, she is observing everything she can, from her family to her classmates to the neighbors she observes on her "spy route." She writes candidly (and often cruelly) in her notebook, but when that notebook is discovered and read by her classmates, Harriet is headed for trouble!

I haven't reread this book in years, and what struck me this time is how well Fitzhugh wrote about the experience of childhood. Harriet is kind of a brat, and I wouldn't want to be around her in real life, but she manages to be sympathetic in the context of the story. This childhood classic is one I highly recommend for both children and adults.

Eleven-year-old Harriet M. Welsch knows exactly what she wants to be when she grows up. A spy. She’s already practicing, wearing spy clothes and carrying a notebook on her spy route. The adult she listens to is Ole Golly, her nurse. Ole Golly told Harriet that she needs to get out in the world and see lots of people, because there are as many ways to live as there are people, and Harriet needs to decide how she wants to live. I don’t think Ole Golly meant for Harriet to break into people’s homes and businesses, but that’s what Harriet does. Harriet’s world falls apart when Ole Golly leaves and, shortly afterward, Harriet’s lost notebook is found and read by her classmates.

I didn’t read this book as a child, and I don’t show more think it would have appealed to me then. I was not a snooper as a child, and I avoided the children who were. Harriet’s breaking and entering bothered me. The bullying Harriet experienced after her classmates read her lost notebook was even more troubling, as were Harriet’s payback fantasies. It’s obvious to the reader that Harriet is a budding writer. It takes a child psychiatrist to point out the obvious to Harriet’s parents, who then enlighten Harriet’s teachers and Ole Golly. show less

Harriet the Spy is one of the greatest children's novels ever written. It is a true classic.

In the 1970s my father, who was blind, when to NIH for an operation. He shared a room with a crusty old Navy man. One afternoon my Dad was listening to Harriet on records. His roommate spoke up and said, "Would you mind turning that off for awhile?" "Oh, sure, no problem," said my Dad, "I didn't mean to disturb you." "Oh, it's not that," said the fellow, "I have to go downstairs now for some tests and I don't want to miss anything." Harriet the Spy is that suspenseful. It is also a highly amusing and touching story.

Harriet is extremely bright and curious and trains her intelligence on becoming a spy. Not to give away too much, but her spy rounds show more introduce her to a wide range of personalities -- each with their own flaws and virtues. Through her observations, Harriet is learning how people make their way through life. One man lives for his cats, another feeds hungry children from goods stolen from the shop he works for, another woman decides to spend all day in bed until her doctor orders her to stay all day in bed. All of these people are flawed, and they are all interesting and of value in their own way. What better lesson to learn?

When her notebook is accidentally dropped and her classmates read her true thoughts about them, they are deeply hurt and angered at her frank evaluation of their flaws. After she endures much at their hands and receives some of the same pain they felt upon reading her notebook, Harriet gains true empathy for
them and begins her journey into maturity. And if you think this sounds "too preachy," I will just refer you to the scene where Harriet plays the part of an onion and her father joins in. Louise Fitzhugh captured the essence of what it means to be a child. show less