Breakfast at Tiffany's

By Truman Capote

Holly Golightly knows that nothing bad can ever happen to you at Tiffany's. In this seductive, wistful masterpiece, Capote created a woman whose name has entered the American idiom and whose style is a part of the literary landscape—her poignancy, wit, and naïveté continue to charm.

This volume also includes three of Capote's best-known stories, “House of Flowers,” “A Diamond Guitar,” and “A Christmas Memory,” which the Saturday Review called “one of the most moving stories in our language.” It is a tale of two innocents—a small boy and the old woman who is his best friend—whose sweetness contains a hard, sharp kernel of truth.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
• Release date: May 15, 2012
• ISBN: 9780345803054

Truman Capote

Truman Capote (1924-1984) es uno de los mejores escritores norteamericanos del siglo XX. Anagrama le ha dedicado una Biblioteca Truman Capote: Otras voces, otros ámbitos, Un árbol de noche, Desayuno en Tiffany’s, A sangre fría, Música para camaleones, Plegarias atendidas, El arpa de hierba, Retratos, Tres cuentos, Los perros ladran, Cuentos completos y Crucero de verano.

Book preview

Breakfast at Tiffany’s

I AM ALWAYS DRAWN BACK to places where I have lived, the houses and their neighborhoods. For instance, there is a brownstone in the East Seventies where, during the early years of the war, I had my first New York apartment. It was one room crowded with attic furniture, a sofa and fat chairs upholstered in that itchy, particular red velvet that one associates with hot days on a train. The walls were stucco, and a color rather like tobacco-spit. Everywhere, in the bathroom too, there were prints of Roman ruins freckled brown with age. The single window looked out on a fire escape. Even so, my spirits heightened whenever I felt in my pocket the key to this apartment; with all its gloom, it still was a place of my own, the first, and my books were there, and jars of pencils to sharpen, everything I needed, so I felt, to become the writer I wanted to be.

It never occurred to me in those days to write about Holly Golightly, and probably it would not now except for a conversation I had with Joe Bell that set the whole memory of her in motion again.

Holly Golightly had been a tenant in the old brownstone; she’d occupied the apartment below mine. As for Joe Bell, he ran a bar around the corner on Lexington Avenue; he still does. Both Holly and I used to go there six, seven times a day, not for a drink, not always, but to make telephone calls: during the war a private telephone was hard to come by. Moreover, Joe Bell was good about taking messages, which in Holly’s case was no small favor, for she had a tremendous many.

Of course this was a long time ago, and until last week I hadn’t seen Joe Bell in several years. Off and on we’d kept in touch, and occasionally I’d stopped by his bar when passing through the neighborhood; but actually we’d never been strong friends except in as much as we were both friends of Holly Golightly. Joe Bell hasn’t an easy nature, he admits it himself, he says it’s because he’s a bachelor and has a sour stomach. Anyone who knows him will tell you he’s a hard man to talk to. Impossible if you don’t share his fixations, of which Holly is one. Some others are: ice hockey, Weimaraner dogs, Our Gal Sunday (a soap serial he has listened to for fifteen years), and Gilbert and Sullivan—he claims to be related to one or the other, I can’t remember which.

And so when, late last Tuesday afternoon, the telephone rang and I heard Joe Bell here, I knew it must be about Holly. He didn’t say so, just: Can you rattle right over here? It’s important, and there was a croak of excitement in his froggy voice.

I took a taxi in a downpour of October rain, and on my way I even thought she might be there, that I would see Holly again.

But there was no one on the premises except the proprietor. Joe Bell’s is a quiet place compared to most Lexington Avenue bars. It boasts neither neon nor television. Two old mirrors reflect the weather from the streets; and behind the bar, in a niche surrounded by photographs of ice-hockey stars, there is always a large bowl of fresh flowers that Joe Bell himself arranges with matronly care. That is what he was doing when I came in.

Naturally, he said, rooting a gladiola deep into the bowl, naturally I wouldn’t have got you over here if it wasn’t I wanted your opinion. It’s peculiar. A very peculiar thing has happened.

You heard from Holly?

He fingered a leaf, as though uncertain of how to answer. A small man with a fine head of coarse white hair, he has a bony, sloping face better suited to someone far taller; his complexion seems permanently sunburned: now it grew even redder. I can’t say exactly heard from her. I mean, I don’t know. That’s why I want your opinion. Let me build you a drink. Something new. They call it a White Angel, he said, mixing one-half vodka, one-half gin, no vermouth. While I drank the result, Joe Bell stood sucking on a Tums and turning over in his mind what he had to tell me. Then: You recall a certain Mr. I. Y. Yunioshi? A gentleman from Japan.

From California, I said, recalling Mr. Yunioshi perfectly. He’s a photographer on one of the picture magazines, and when I knew him he lived in the studio apartment on the top floor of the brownstone.

Don’t go mixing me up. All I’m asking, you know who I mean? Okay. So last night who comes waltzing in here but this selfsame Mr. I. Y. Yunioshi. I haven’t seen him, I guess it’s over two years. And where do you think he’s been those two years?

Africa.

Joe Bell stopped crunching on his Tums, his eyes narrowed. So how did you know?

Read it in Winchell. Which I had, as a matter of fact.

He rang open his cash register, and produced a manila envelope. Well, see did you read this in Winchell.

In the envelope were three photographs, more or less the same, though taken from different angles: a tall delicate Negro man wearing a calico skirt and with a shy, yet vain smile, displaying in his hands an odd wood sculpture, an elongated carving of a head, a girl’s, her hair sleek and short as a young man’s, her smooth wood eyes too large and tilted in the tapering face, her mouth wide, overdrawn, not unlike clown-lips. On a glance it resembled most primitive carving; and then it didn’t, for here was the spit-image of Holly Golightly, at least as much of a likeness as a dark still thing could be.

Now what do you make of that? said Joe Bell, satisfied with my puzzlement.

It looks like her.

Listen, boy, and he slapped his hand on the bar, "it is her. Sure as I’m a man fit to wear britches. The little Jap knew it was her the minute he saw her."

He saw her? In Africa?

Well. Just the statue there. But it comes to the same thing. Read the facts for yourself, he said, turning over one of the photographs. On the reverse was written: Wood Carving, S Tribe, Tococul, East Anglia, Christmas Day, 1956.

He said, Here’s what the Jap says, and the story was this: On Christmas day Mr. Yunioshi had passed with his camera through Tococul, a village in the tangles of nowhere and of no interest, merely a congregation of mud huts with monkeys in the yards and buzzards on the roofs. He’d decided to move on when he saw suddenly a Negro squatting in a doorway carving monkeys on a walking stick. Mr. Yunioshi was impressed and asked to see more of his work. Whereupon he was shown the carving of the girl’s head: and felt, so he told Joe Bell, as if he were falling in a dream. But when he offered to buy it the Negro cupped his private parts in his hand (apparently a tender gesture, comparable to tapping one’s heart) and said no. A pound of salt and ten dollars, a wristwatch and two pounds of salt and twenty dollars, nothing swayed him. Mr. Yunioshi was in all events determined to learn how the carving came to be made. It cost him his salt and his watch, and the incident was conveyed in African and pig-English and finger-talk. But it would seem that in the spring of that year a party of three white persons had appeared out of the brush riding horseback. A young woman and two men. The men, both red-eyed with fever, were forced for several weeks to stay shut and shivering in an isolated hut, while the young woman, having presently taken a fancy to the woodcarver, shared the woodcarver’s mat.

I don’t credit that part, Joe Bell said squeamishly. I know she had her ways, but I don’t think she’d be up to anything as much as that.

And then?

Then nothing, he shrugged. By and by she went like she come, rode away on a horse.

Alone, or with the two men?

Joe Bell blinked. With the two men, I guess. Now the Jap, he asked about her up and down the country. But nobody else had ever seen her. Then it was as if he could feel my own sense of letdown transmitting itself to him, and he wanted no part of it. "One thing you got to admit, it’s the only definite news in I don’t know how many—he counted on his fingers: there weren’t enough—years. All I hope, I hope she’s rich. She must be rich. You got to be rich to go mucking around in Africa."

She’s probably never set foot in Africa, I said, believing it; yet I could see her there, it was somewhere she would have gone. And the carved head: I looked at the photographs again.

You know so much, where is she?

Dead. Or in a crazy house. Or married. I think she’s married and quieted down and maybe right in this very city.

He considered a moment. No, he said, and shook his head. I’ll tell you why. If she was in this city I’d have seen her. You take a man that likes to walk, a man like me, a man’s been walking in the streets going on ten or twelve years, and all those years he’s got his eye out for one person, and nobody’s ever her, don’t it stand to reason she’s not there? I see pieces of her all the time, a flat little bottom, any skinny girl that walks fast and straight— He paused, as though too aware of how intently I was looking at him. You think I’m round the bend?

It’s just that I didn’t know you’d been in love with her. Not like that.

I was sorry I’d said it; it disconcerted him. He scooped up the photographs and put them back in their envelope. I looked at my watch. I hadn’t any place to go, but I thought it was better to leave.

Hold on, he said, gripping my wrist. Sure I loved her. But it wasn’t that I wanted to touch her. And he added, without smiling: Not that I don’t think about that side of things. Even at my age, and I’ll be sixty-seven January ten. It’s a peculiar fact—but, the older I grow, that side of things seems to be on my mind more and more. I don’t remember thinking about it so much even when I was a youngster and it’s every other minute. Maybe the older you grow and the less easy it is to put thought into action, maybe that’s why it gets all locked up in your head and becomes a burden. Whenever I read in the paper about an old man disgracing himself, I know it’s because of this burden. But—he poured himself a jigger of whiskey and swallowed it neat—I’ll never disgrace myself. And I swear, it never crossed my mind about Holly. You can love somebody without it being like that. You keep them a stranger, a stranger who’s a friend.

Two men came into the bar, and it seemed the moment to leave. Joe Bell followed me to the door. He caught my wrist again. Do you believe it?

That you didn’t want to touch her?

I mean about Africa.

At that moment I couldn’t seem to remember the story, only the image of her riding away on a horse. Anyway, she’s gone.

Yeah, he said, opening the door. Just gone.

Outside, the rain had stopped, there was only a mist of it in the air, so I turned the corner and walked along the street where the brownstone stands. It is a street with trees that in the summer make cool patterns on the pavement; but now the leaves were yellowed and mostly down, and the rain had made them slippery, they skidded underfoot. The brownstone is midway in the block, next to a church where a blue tower-clock tolls the hours. It has been sleeked up since my day; a smart black door has replaced the old frosted glass, and gray elegant shutters frame the windows. No one I remember still lives there except Madame Sapphia Spanella, a husky coloratura who every afternoon went roller-skating in Central Park. I know she’s still there because I went up the steps and looked at the mailboxes. It

Reviews for Breakfast at Tiffany's

[kaethe_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Like many young actresses, I wanted a shot at being Audrey Hepburn by videotaping a monologue from Breakfast. Yes, well, what I lacked in talent I made up for in stupidity. As I recall, no one laughed openly at me. Now that's professionalism.

Better minds than mine can no doubt explain the fantastic allure of prostitutes as characters. For myself it was simple: I knew I was intelligent, what I wanted was to be sexy.

Still, Capote was brilliant. My favorite line: "She looks clean. Doesn't she look clean?"

[cheryl_in_cc_nv · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Read for group discussion in one sitting. Iirc, the movie was gentler, sweeter - this is a bit shocking, and the girl is not naive waif, really. I admire the writing. Capote makes us like her even if the only thing she really has going for her is a particular kind of boyish or elfin beauty. But I don't think I really felt anything more than I did from the movie, years ago, or will remember it either. It's popular fiction, not literature, not of universal or timeless appeal.

I might read the short stories before I return it to the library, depending on whether discussion enables me to like it more.

[Tefi 1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I liked it, entertaining, I recommend it.
It's a short contemporary classic novel that combines comedy and drama because the protagonist, Holly Golightly, is extravagant and superficial as she hides her true feelings and sorrows. (Translated from Spanish)

[browner56 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Some of us of a certain age first came to know Truman Capote as a celebrity rather than an author. Back in the day, he was a frequent talk show guest, known largely for his outspoken comments, acerbic wit, high-profile feuds with other personalities, and flamboyant, over-the-top style. In time, a variety of addictions and personal demons rendered him a caricature of himself and ultimately led to his early demise. What a shame that was because the memory we were left with at the time was one of a rather silly man who was responsible for his own destruction. Fortunately, those memories faded with the years, but the legacy of the remarkable fiction Capote produced—including such notable works as Other Voices, Other Rooms and In Cold Blood—survives to remind us of what a talented writer he was.

In Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Capote produced a collection of four works of short fiction that do not share any unifying themes beyond being strong and affecting stories. For me, the clear standouts in the group are “Breakfast at Tiffany’s”, the title story that really is more of a novella in terms of its length, and “A Christmas Memory”. Both are superbly paced and well written, despite the nature of the tales they tell being drastically different. In the first, we spend a season in the New York City of the 1940s getting to know Holly Golightly, a quixotic young socialite with no apparent means and a shady past. As seen through the eyes of one of her neighbors, a would-be writer who may well be in love with her, we come to realize that beneath the external glamour, she is a fragile and troubled person. Despite its pervasive sadness, this is a deeply poignant tale and in Holly the author has created an iconic character for the ages.

The other gem in the collection is an elegiac story of the last Christmas a young seven-year-old boy spends with his sixty-something cousin. They are dirt poor, but the sweet and loving nature of their relationship makes them rich in other ways. The two are at opposite ends of their lives—the boy just beginning and the older woman not far from the end—but the bond they share sustains them and the memories they make form the foundation of the young man’s future essence. While nothing dramatic happens, this is one of the most touching and emotionally satisfying stories I have read. The other tales in the book—“House of Flowers” and “A Diamond Guitar”—are solid, but far slighter in both ambition and impact. There is nothing especially wrong with either, but they do suffer somewhat in comparison to the stronger entries. Overall, Breakfast at Tiffany’s is an excellent example of how splendid Capote’s writing could be.

[Cristianv8 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY'S (1958) by Truman Capote is a novel that can be read in a single afternoon. It is entertaining, fast-paced, and written with the idea that we should think of it as a form of entertainment. However, at the risk of falling into moralistic considerations, this novel is somewhat more sordid and different from what we saw in the movie. For those who haven't seen the film and want to, the protagonist was a kind of naive yet fun young girl with a mix of Lolita and future climbing star, who only entertained herself with all the attention the men gave her.

So don't be like George (if you saw the Seinfeld episode on the topic, you'll understand) and read the book too, where we encounter a more bitter, less glamorous, and somewhat... corrupt side of our future star, which is everything that the film only suggested in passing. For example, if you remember the movie, she married a man who was a veterinarian, took his last name, and took care of her brother. In the book’s version, we understand that the Doc took as his wife a minor who was starving and had broken into his house to steal food. That is to say, Lulamae, or Holly, basically traded sex for food and stability for herself and her brother since she was a very young girl, which, if you think about it, is a bit grim. But of course, Capote is supposed to be describing a life, and these things happen, even if Paramount turned a blind eye to them.

On the other hand, I also found it surprising that the novel does not have a happy ending; rather, it is a novel where the protagonist does not change, does not modify her life, and above all, does not learn from her mistakes, and that for me is what elevates it above the sweetened comedy of the sixties. (Translated from Spanish)

[Nelda Chapa ❤? · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Always eager to read this book, and finally I did, I liked it a lot. I have to clarify that I don't know if I liked it for the story itself or for how it was told, because I listened to it as an audiobook, and it was like listening to a radio novel (my mom used to listen to them when I was a child, and it brought back memories), narrated with special effects: rain, thunder, barking, meowing, etc.; it was a different audiobook, and I enjoyed it to the fullest.

Holly is a girl who, despite being so young, wants to conquer the world in one bite; she leads a life of excess. The story is narrated by her neighbor, who is also a writer, and he tells us Holly's life in a very special way.

I know it's a classic, and maybe many already know the story or the movie; in my case, I haven't seen it, but I hope to see it soon.

Although one could say the story is simple, it provoked all sorts of feelings in me, and I think that's why I liked it so much. (Translated from Spanish)

[Monika · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

If I had to describe this book in one word, it would undoubtedly be precious. I loved the story; I found it very tender, and at the same time, the protagonist is a bit mischievous, let's say. Narrated by a neighbor who admires her, like most people who know her. Holly captivates with her beauty and is always partying at her house. She doesn’t quite know what she wants, whom she wants, or what she wants to do, but she spends her days going from party to party and suitor to suitor. Very sarcastic at times, amusing dialogues make you read it in a flash and leave you with a great feeling. (Translated from Spanish)

[rbeffa_2 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Breakfast at Tiffany's surprised me. My brief initial impression when I began to read the story was 'wackadoodle'. Holly Golightly was very kooky. Paul, the narrator, I envisioned as a version of Truman Capote. This 1958 book would not be for everyone, but I came to love it. I am utterly charmed by it. I really do not recall the film at all, but the novel would not really translate to 1961 cinema without changes. Holly is a wild thing. She is a call girl of a different sort.

I thought I had not read Capote before, but there are three additional shorter stories in the book and one of them I recognized. It was quite memorable.

4 stories here, all excellent, with Breakfast the star of the show.

I have been thinking that there are a great number of classic works of 20th century fiction that I have never read. This made me want some more.

[Sandra · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I haven't been excited about it. Neither the story nor the main character, who I even found somewhat unimpressive. If Audrey Hepburn hadn't turned the movie into a legend, I'm not sure the book would have gained such fame. I'm curious and I do feel like watching it. The novel, on the other hand, seems to me to be overrated. I liked the story "A Christmas Memory," included in the edition, more. (Translated from Spanish)

[sheila1957 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

The novella Breakfast at Tiffany's and three short stories are in this collection. Each story deals with loneliness. None realize they feel lonely but will do what they must to "live." Each character is very relatable. Capote is a master storyteller. He is descriptive. I could see what he painted in words and feel what the characters felt.

I like Breakfast at Tiffany's. It is not the movie. It is a series of vignettes told through the eyes of Holly Golighty's neighbor. They fight but keep coming back to the other. The ending is open. Will she or won't she?

I enjoyed House of Flowers. Ottilie falls in love (or maybe lust) with Royal who returns her to a town like where she grew up. Her friends show up one day and offer her an out but will she take it?

My favorite of all Capote's stories is A Diamond Guitar. Mr. Shaeffer has been in prison most of his adult life when a new prisoner is brought in. He brings Mr. Shaeffer back to life. Mr. Shaeffer also learns a valuable lesson for not being lonely for a while.

In A Christmas Memory, Buddy and his elderly cousin get the ingredients together to make fruit cake for Christmas gifts for many people. Since there is extra whiskey left, the two of them celebrate being finished with the fruit cakes by finishing the whiskey. The adults of the household bring judgement and censure on them. Shortly after Buddy is sent to military school but carries on a correspondence with his cousin. Of course, she ages, and he knows before he is finally told. Again sad. I cried.

[desiree_reads · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I wish I would have written a review right after I read this, but this was a truly terrible book. I've never seen the movie, so can't compare it to that, but basically this guy was obsessed with his slutty neighbor in the '60's. Get a life, dude.

[wanderlustlover_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Spring 2019 - audiobook;

I picked this one up on one of the many sales I picked up classic books from on Audible, and it's sat around a while waiting for me to push up the numbers into it. I have to admit I think I saw the movie for this book years and years and years ago, so long all I had going in was a sense of Hepburn like someone I passed on the street so long ago everything was foggy around the crisp vision of her beauty and more the taste of the soul of story than the remembrance of any story details.

Which, if we are being honest, is exactly how Holly Golightly would like to be remembered.

This short piece surprised me several times, never being quite what I expected it to be, and yet, just like 'Fred,' I felt myself drawn further and further and further into Holly's world. The garish obvious lies, and the brilliant lipstick smiles, and the way she never settled long enough to even emulate a butterfly really. How the stories about her, different in the hands of each person who interacted with her and longed after her, merged, mingled, and bounced off each other.

The ending was a touch sadder and darker than I truly expected, and I came out of it feeling more sad and wistful for the character than ever. It left me very much with a quasi-end of Lolita feeling, for a loss of innocence, taken too young, and left on the run from everything that had. I hope for Holly that she stays in the wind forever, and finally finds the thing she's looking for, because that is where she will be in my mind, all adored windswept hair and tapping cigarette and long false drawl.

[psalva-706031 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Capote has a way of subtly drawing situations of sadness and loneliness that makes his characters so human. I loved the title story and “A Christmas Memory” most. I got chills several times while reading this. I am just knocking a half star off for the dated racial language, which made me cringe. Nonetheless, this was just a beautiful collection of Capote’s shorter works.

[dominiquedavis · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Bittersweet, I may have liked this more than the movie.

[Kathebet · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The narrative of Truman Capote is one of the most impeccable I have had the opportunity to read; it is no wonder he is one of the most critically acclaimed American writers. To read this book, I had to forget a bit about how much I enjoyed In Cold Blood; it is inevitable to have high expectations after reading what is known so far as his best book. Breakfast at Tiffany's is a short novel, divided into four stories, each with its emotional particularity, but with the character of Holly Golightly as the central focus. The writer tells this story through the perspective of one of Golightly's admirers, who is also her neighbor and ends up becoming a support for her. There is a great story behind this woman; despite the open ending that I found somewhat unconvincing, this book retains Capote's wonderful narrative essence and is worth the time it takes to read. (Translated from Spanish)

[ennuiprayer · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I don't know if it's the story or the fact that Michael C. Hall narrated it, but I really loved this one.

[NatoZorrilla · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

The imperfect heroines of Capote touched my heart. Women who, despite their tragic pasts filled with violence and solitude, view the future with optimism, perhaps with ignorance, but fight with what little they have to find love and freedom. I really enjoyed the reading as it is very well written, and although the stories did not have a singular and captivating plot, the characters are very interesting, so it was a pleasure to get to know them. (Translated from Spanish)

[ngelHumberto · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Holly is an extraordinarily beautiful and provocative girl: sexually free, hedonistic, and seemingly a prostitute by conviction. She lives for the moment, doesn’t worry about the consequences of her actions, and creates a moral code on the fly with fragile nuances that sometimes make her doubt herself. Like her "nameless" cat, she has no restraints and is untameable; she only lives for pleasure. The narrator, a young writer whose name we do not know, meets Holly when she climbs through his window escaping from a rude and talkative client. They quickly become friends, and the narrator soon finds himself drawn into the curiosity generated by Holly's extravagant life. Deep down, they both seek the same thing: "happiness," but dark hints cloud their lives. This is one of Truman Capote's most important novels that places him among the most significant celebrities of his time in New York. It is a daring novel that openly discusses pleasure and promiscuity. (Translated from Spanish)

[montsefp · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I had heard this book mentioned many times, and I was very interested and excited to read it, but it wasn't what I expected. Perhaps its fame is more due to the film adaptation than to the book itself. It's not that the book isn't entertaining, but I had very high expectations; however, I recommend reading it since it's a classic and a very easy and quick read. In the edition I read, it was accompanied by other shorter stories, but I believe the main focus is the one that gives the book its title. (Translated from Spanish)

[cafeentrelecturas · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

?BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY'S

✨Truman Capote, one of the best American writers of the 20th century, is the author of this novel that we bring you today, which was the inspiration for the famous movie starring Audrey Hepburn and George Peppard.

?OUR OPINION✍️

This is the first time we read this author, and we really enjoyed reading something different from what we usually do.
The novel tells the story of the friendship between Holly Golightly and an anonymous narrator who wants to be a writer. Both are tenants of a building on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, and it is a short but intense story.
The entire story takes place in New York, dealing with themes such as promiscuity and sex.
Holly has a mix of innocence and sensuality, and we like her playful character when it comes to freely choosing what she wants and not caring about what others think, living her dreams in the present without clinging to anything or anyone.
Of course, that character also leads her into various troubles that we see throughout the story, but she is always surrounded by glamour.
Highlighting the loyalty of her dear friend Paul, always willing to help her no matter what happens.

It is a story that we totally recommend; at least it should be read once in a lifetime!!! ?

Our rating is 4/5 ⭐
Have you read it? What did you think? Leave us your opinions ?

Author✍️: Truman Capote (Translated from Spanish)

[RociM · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This is the typical case of "I want to see the movie, but first I will read the book." I already did the first and I'm eager to do the second, since the adaptation differs quite a bit from the original novel, as I understand.

It's an entertaining, short book that, although it has many descriptions that can make the reading lengthy, has several twists and surprises in the plot that keep you engaged in the story. Would I recommend it? It depends. I think it could be interesting for movie lovers, fans of classic literature, and readers with specific tastes. (Translated from Spanish)

[aridipi · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

A seductive protagonist who effortlessly displays her sensuality and personality to everyone she encounters. She captivates with her way of expressing herself, her magnificent outfits (including her inseparable sunglasses), and above all, with that close connection to seduction. Unencumbered by prejudices, she leads a very active and fun social life. Caught up in troubles with thugs, mobsters, and millionaires, her life unfolds in the gaze of others. Those who fall in love with her. The rest of the stories included in the book, from my point of view, go unnoticed. (Translated from Spanish)

[Aleca1508 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Confusing at first but always the question of what happened to her? "Fred" was such a love. (Translated from Spanish)

[willszal-1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

"Breakfast at Tiffany's" is one of those stories that is such a classic that I can't recall anyone actually ever telling me about it; it has just been there in my greater awareness for decades. Last night I was sitting in my armchair, and noticed a vintage paperback copy of it on the floor next to me. I've never read it before, so I picked it up, and gave it a go in one sitting (it is only 85 pages long, and small pages at that).

ENERGETIC POIGNANCE
Immediately you can see why it is famous. It has the poignance and attention to emotional and energetic detail that you also find in a book like "Anna Karenina." "Perhaps my face explained she'd misconstrued, that I'd not wanted advice but congratulations: her mouth shifted from a town into a smile" (page 44). It's exchanges like this—where, if we were there, much of the interaction would be perceived subconsciously so that we don't even notice it happening—that bring a surreal clarity to the work.

AMERICAN PRINCESS ARCHETYPE
And then there's the content. Truman's homosexuality has not deterred from the way he has captured the iconic 20th century American princess. The racism and sexism condemns this story as a barbaric 20th century beast. Despite (maybe because of?) Capote's bigotry, he has captured a certain archetype that has significant cultural weight.

Our protagonist, Holly Golightly, is a whirlwind. You want her attention. Her world is under the compression of a sound engineer; she's so blasé about bringing you into the intimate folds of her life, and simultaneously it is as though nothing matters. Due to your infatuation, this leaves you desirous of her affections, which come like rain during climate change—unpredictable and inundating.

With a fleeting fondness, I recall the Holly Golightly's I've encountered, in all their intensity, spontaneity, and ephemerality. The evenings splitting a bottle of red wine at the retreat house in the Rockies followed by a two-person dance party. The mornings in the shower, washing each other's bodies. Holding hands while walking across the park, wondering at the perception of onlookers. Skinny dipping in the mountain streams. Kissing on the half-erected frame of a barn at sunset. Picking strawberries under a midnight full-moon. Watching the way eyes and hearts follow them across the dance floor. The pastels of dawn after an all-night conversation.

There's a timelessness to these experiences, not just because there's no knowing whether the next fling might be a decade or a lifetime away.

Setting aside our wistfulness and psychoses of longing, it seems there's still something essential about the human experience that Truman relates here, somehow tied into themes of innocent awe—of one another and the world.

FIRST PERSON PERSPECTIVE
And then there's the easygoing storytelling style Capote utilizes. Its him, telling his own story. He didn't try to tell the story from someone else's perspective, which may be why he was able to tell something so exceedingly relatable—there was no translation across identities necessary.

The story has a nostalgic feel to it, due to it being set in the past tense, a recollection of the iconic years of youth; "There is a brownstone in the East Seventies where, during the early years of the war, I had my first New York apartment" (page 9).

I recently picked up my dogeared copy of "The Rolling Stone Book of the Beats." Reading publications like Bookforum and the New Yorker, it's easy to see the continuous strand of slick New York hipster coming through. And, at the same time, I'm left wondering—was Capote a beatnik? Was this story frame-breaking for the 1950s? This is something I don't know.

[lorifox · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This edition contains 3 stories plus the title story. “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” is memorable because the lead character, Holly Golightly, is so memorable. A free spirit with an almost elfish demeanor, her name, though acquired, is more unforgettable than the story itself. The story seemed almost unfinished in that style of so many stories written in the 1950’s.

The true gems of the book are 2 of the 3 shorter stories: “A Diamond Guitar” and “A Christmas Memory”, both magical and deeply satisfying. “A Diamond Guitar” reminds me in some ways of The Shawshank Redemption. Beautiful told in just the right among of descriptive detail, the reader can’t help but picture it in every sentence. I almost felt the chill of the stream as the two main characters cross it.

“A Christmas Memory” is my favorite of the 3. It is tender and beautiful, sentimental but not overly so. Again Capote has chosen each word carefully so as not to render the story too wordy or too sentimental. It’s the kind of story that will stay with you long after the book has been closed. It actually made me want to make and eat fruitcake, something I’ve never liked, because its importance to the story. I agree with the Saturday Review, which proclaimed it, “one of the most moving stories in our language.” Almost 70 years after it was first penned, it still retains that simple power. It’s not a knock-you-over-the-head kind of story, but more a drift-into-your-heart kind of story that once read will not be forgotten.

[MeliBS · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I simply loved it; it's incredible how, despite the time period, the protagonist managed to stand out in so many ways. (Translated from Spanish)

[Calusienta · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I recognize a book that I'm not going to like within its first five pages. A couple of years ago, I attempted with DET. I never finished it. This month I picked it up again for a Book Club. I finished it, and guess what? I didn't like it. While Capote's prose is impeccable and beautiful, there is something unbearable about Holly that made it an uncomfortable read filled with "rolling eyes." I'll analyze it with my pillow. (Translated from Spanish)

[Saramp96 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This review may be more about the character of Holly than about Breakfast at Tiffany's itself.

This girl goes straight into my top ten favorite female protagonists. How can I describe her? At first, when the narrator begins to introduce her, you might form a first impression of the character that dissipates within a few pages, and then you discover that the essence of Holly is much more complex than it seemed at first glance, so complex that it's hard to describe, you know? She embodies such different concepts that it's fascinating. The entire story is Holly; she’s the character that commands all the attention. Moreover, this is one of those cases where I didn't mind mixing the movie with the book. Let me explain: normally, we prefer to read the book first to imagine the characters ourselves and then, if anything, watch the adaptation. In this case, I was reading about Holly and imagining Audrey Hepburn, but it didn't bother me at all because they are both divine ♥.

To change the subject, in addition to Holly's story, there are also three other short stories, of which my favorite was "A Christmas Memory," very endearing ♥. (Translated from Spanish)

[José Ferrandis Peiró · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

In 1958, at just 34 years old, Truman Capote published his novel Breakfast at Tiffany's in the U.S. Those who had the privilege of reading that edition during the following three years imagined a Holly Golightly different from all those who have read it since. This is because in 1961 director Blake Edwards filmed the movie, titled Breakfast at Tiffany's in Spain, starring Audrey Hepburn. Since then, it has become impossible to read the book without seeing the actress's face every time Holly's character appears on screen. Understandably so, because we are talking about one of the best and most beautiful actresses Hollywood has ever given us. For this reason, the unfortunate Holly Golightly acquires a new dimension. The censorship of the time also deprived the film of the protagonist's habits (smoking marijuana), her way of making a living (through prostitution), her bisexuality, and her previous abortion. Truman Capote's Holly Golightly conceals a dark past that will eventually be uncovered by the narrator and the reader. For this reason, she never talks about her past or anything that directly relates to her. She is an escort or companion who lives an extravagant life. For example, she has a habit of having breakfast in front of the iconic Tiffany's jewelry store. Because it calms me all at once, that silence, that arrogant atmosphere; in a place like that, nothing bad could happen to you, it would be impossible, surrounded by all those elegantly dressed men, and that charming smell of silver and crocodile wallet. If I found a place in real life where I felt as I feel there, I would buy a few pieces of furniture and name the cat. Deep down, indeed, Holly is an uprooted and a phony. A wretched soul. Moreover, in more recent times, she turned down a role for the Hollywood movie The Story of Dr. Wassell. From David O. Selznick, no less! Why does she leave Los Angeles and the opportunity to be a rich and famous actress and ultimately settle in New York to pursue such a humiliating profession? She explains this to the narrator of the story, a minor writer whose name we do not even know: being a movie star is too much effort, one has to be tremendously narcissistic. I don’t mean to say that being rich and famous would bother me. Those are things that hold an important place in my plans, and someday I will try to achieve them; but, if I do achieve them, I would want to continue liking myself. I want to continue being myself when one morning, waking up, I remember I have to have breakfast at Tiffany’s. But beneath that aura of self-assurance lies the true Holly. A woman who seeks, without finding it, a path to follow in life. The truth is, she lives in a somewhat rundown building in Manhattan and has as neighbors the story's narrator, Mr. Yunioshi, and the fearsome Madame Spanella, an old woman who criticizes her behaviors and her night parties and always threatens to report her to the police. She often drinks at Joe Bell's bar, is the protégée of O. J. Berman, a film man who still wants to introduce her to Hollywood despite her demonstrated reluctance, dates the millionaire Rusty Trawler, who wants to get engaged to her at all costs, and ends up sharing her apartment with Mag Wilwood, a very tall girl who longs for a husband. Additionally, through Mr. Shaughnessy, she earns extra money visiting a mobster named Sally Potato in prison, claiming to be his niece. Unbeknownst to her, she delivers the weather report before collecting her pay. A report and visits that will complicate her life significantly at any given moment. Holly inevitably charms all the men who pass through her life. Among them are the narrator, Joe Bell, Mr. Yunioshi, O. J. Berman, and Rusty Trawler. And she does not only do it because of her beauty. Also because, despite her lifestyle, she is a good girl. A good girl who runs away from problems while getting into even worse ones. A good girl who does not want to change her life or who simply can no longer do so because it is something impossible for her. A good girl capable of giving a beautiful cage worth three hundred fifty dollars to make the new owner promise that they will never put any living being in it. A good girl who, however, also breaks the hearts of all those men who are part of her life in one way or another. Something that, as her story unfolds, will be seen to stem from far away. From her previous life. From the life she wants to keep hidden. From that which will eventually explode before her eyes at any moment. Breakfast at Tiffany's is a magnificent short novel that shows that it is not necessary to prolong stories for no reason and that literary beauty is made up of pages but by the right and necessary words. Thus, just around a hundred pages can establish an author. (Translated from Spanish)

[Claudia Kostas · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The only charm of Breakfast at Tiffany's is Audrey Hepburn's legendary performance in the film adaptation. Or maybe it's not charm but rather punishment. Because it raises expectations (and I haven't even seen the whole movie), of a disappointing narrative. Holly Golightly is an innocent girl who pleases everyone, living off parties and glamour. But this is just the tip of the iceberg of a turbulent life, of a distant past, of how we do not show the slightest part of who we are. It is a very important message that Capote conveys to us. We can only make conjectures, speculate about others. We will never know where they come from and where they are heading. Although it is true that it has such a powerful message, the story limps. I find myself lacking information; it's too short. It feels almost empty and, personally, it didn't captivate me. And, from what I could read in some stories that accompanied this book, the author is not one of my favorites, to put it mildly. It hasn't moved me; I'm sorry. (Translated from Spanish)