Because of the cliff by the field. And falling off the cliff ages you into adulthood. Where/when you might become a dickhead and a phony.
But, the catcher isn’t in the rye. Just sometimes you wish he was and sometimes you’d like to be him. If you are a teenager and starting to notice the real world.
I was assigned to read David Copperfield one summer when I was around 12 or something and it was easily the most boring thing to give to a 12 year old to read. My Mom gave me Catcher In The Rye hoping it would help offset my frustration from Dickens depressing sludge, and within the first paragraph I was hooked.
JD was the literary equivalent of the Seattle grunge era sounds for your average angst ridden teenager in the US. I doubt there are many guys out there today who can claim any other book (“A Separate Peace” maybe?) connected with them at that age better than Catcher.
Not to take away from those authors, who are all excellent, but things like 1984 or Treasure Island didn’t exactly connect with me in the same way that Catcher did. I’m not saying that they weren’t also literary gold, but Catcher stood alone to me and apparently many others as the classic angst ridden teenager bible.
I was assigned <i as a teenager. I wasn’t really interested at the time in reading about some other guy’s teen angst — too busy trying to get some of my own.
I read it again a few years ago and it immediately brought back memories of hormonal zit-faced voice cracking madness. Had I not read it at that age I probably would feel the same way as you.
For my money, Catcher in the Rye and Huck Finn are the two greatest first person novels in American literature (with Nick’s telling of Gatsby and Portnoy’s Complaint rounding out the top 4).
YMMV, of course, but I also happen to think it’s one of the funniest books ever written.
Salinger has been systematically removed from the canon, to be replaced by authors with not a third of his talent. He refused to play the game. So he must be punished.
I’ve always been a little nervous that to read Catcher again as an adult would remove some of the magic from what is otherwise a very fine memory from my teenage years. Until I read the Stand a few years later, I was certain Catcher was the best book evah.
Don’t be Makewi, it was borderline therapeutic to read it again. It was eery the way it brought back the same emotions I had from way back when I read it the first time. The zits are gone and my voice finally changed but I wish I could tell my twelve year old self that life now is still a big fucking mystery.
I was supposedly the model for “Terrance Mann” in Field of Dreams. I love baseball and the concept of a heaven on earth is interesting metaphor, but Jesus Christ did they fuck up that part of that story with that retarded sixties crap.
Wow. Not much good to say about old JD over at Althouse’s digs.
Personally, I get tired of watching “conservative intellectuals” stepping all over each other to tell you how they “much prefer Heinlein,” but then, that’s only because I don’t believe they’ve really ever read much of either.
Perhaps if I’d have read it as a teenager it would have been different.
Very probably true. At 15, I loved it. At 35, I thought Holden was annoying and self-indulgent, but understood why I liked the book so much 20 years earlier.
For my money, Catcher in the Rye and Huck Finn are the two greatest first person novels in American literature (with Nick’s telling of Gatsby and Portnoy’s Complaint rounding out the top 4).
No argument here. That’s much the same as my (much admired) high school American Lit/History/Civics teacher saw it. He was also the first person I heard use the phrase “Classical Liberal”.
One day I will be declared the greatest American writer ever. Perhaps greatest writer ever, but it has been delayed because too many people are jealous of my greatness.
I read so many parodies of Catcher over the years that it kind of put me off reading the real thing. Maybe now that I’ve hauled up into middle age I can clap fresh eyes on it, should I choose to take it up again.
I’ve read most of the Heinlein books and none of Salinger’s. I consider Heinlein a guy who could pretty much write a story that entertained me, and I’ve read the majority of his books more than once. He had some cool political ideas as well. However, that’s the end of it. I don’t consider him a literary giant, except perhaps in the genre which contains few if any giants. Then again, I’m just an idiot who reads mostly science fiction and fantasy, so what do I know? Nothing.
Maybe I lack the ability to determine what’s “great” in literature, much like there are people who cannot distinguish a major triad from a minor triad. To my ears they are so different that I cannot imagine how one couldn’t tell the difference.
I know what you mean. I still have my paperback copies of Franny and Zooey, Raise High the Roofbeams, and Nine Stories I’ve had since high school (cover price: 75¢). Haven’t read them in years, either.
I usually find myself getting caught up in the strange little physical ticks of characters or odd set pieces when I write, like Franklin’s bandage or the Glass’ apartment. It’s to my detriment, I do it badly and I get stuck. I’m not JD Salinger.
I was going to write something about the beauty of art being in the eye of the beholder but then Jim in KC went and said that about the Beatles and now I am struck with an urge to question his taste instead.
I thought that the opening line of the book was as pitch perfect as anything I’ve ever read: “If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is where I was born and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don’t feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth.”
Heinlein and Asimov and a lot of those cats are good story tellers, but I have never paused while reading one of their books and thought: damn, that was a well turned sentence. Salinger could tell a story and he could write.
I’m sorry, but JD Salinger is in a better place….OFF of this mortal plane. His writing was never enthralling (don’t get me GOING about Catcher) nor was it original.
I’m embarrassed to say that it was my generation that love Holden Caulfield and with apologies to you youngers? He was a HACK.
Bmoe? I also often thought that. Yes, the man could write. What he could not do was entertain. When you’re 15-16? and run into Heinlien or Asimov, It beats Salinger like a rented red haired step-puppy.
Agreed. Great opening line. Maybe my favorite. Or maybe that belongs to Gravity’s Rainbow, as seen from the perspective of having finished the thing: “A screaming comes across the sky.”
Best last line? Toss up between Gatsby and Rabbit, Redux. In the latter, the last line is a perfect, “Okay?”
In the former, the justly praised, “So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”
Well, to each his own. But as a writer myself, I can tell you that creating a character with as distinct (and perfect) a voice as Holden’s is no easy task. Sustaining it is even more difficult.
And to think: in its earlier incarnations, the Holden stories were told in the third person.
Blitz: Sometimes it’s a taste thing. With Great Novels, sometimes it’s when you read them.
The line that Jeff quotes sounds a little hackneyed now, but only because Caulfield’s voice and attitude have been imitated to death. If you’ve been exposed to the stuff that was influenced by Catcher before you read the original, sometimes the original won’t seem all that, well, original.
It’s like not seeing Silence of the Lambs until after you’ve watched the entire run of The X-Files (which is what happened to me). After all the gore and twisted horror of The X-Files, Silence really wasn’t all that shocking.
And if you’ve been watching Criminal Minds for any length of time, Hannibal Lector is positively tame by comparison to the average unsub.
I mean, come on. “Hannibal the Cannibal” has something over on Eugene Tooms, and “It puts the lotion on its skin” can hold a candle to CM’s pig farmer?
“Criminal Minds” has warped the way my wife and I read the news. Recently two single-vehicle accidents occurred a week apart in our area, in which the drivers wound up drowning in upside-down cars in the exact same stormwater pond.
We both wondered if we had a clever serial killer at work, using precision driving techniques to commit his crimes.
The second accident was discovered by friends of the victim in the first; they went to look at the scene where their friend died, and saw another car upside down in the water at what they told the local paper was the exact spot where their friend’s car came to rest.
The Great American Novel isn’t my bag (except for Gravity’s Rainbow*), but that character “JD Salinger” is one of my favorites. I hope he stays muddled.
*But I don’t like the first line. It’s too first line of a story. I know why it is. I’ve even made up extra reasons for it to be so…Asimov-y. But I still read it first, the first time. Brought me down.
We’ll have to disagree about “Catcher in the Rye” (does this mean I’m kicked out of the slavish sycophant PW club?) but, I agree with your observation about the lack of talent that is being foisted off on the general public.
I’ve recently come to like Criminal Minds, but I have the same complaint about it that I do about CSI, where in real life, crime scene investigators collect, catalogue evidence and try to make sense of a crime scene, but do not go after suspects – that’s a homicide detective’s job; criminal profilers are a support unit, not field agents tracking down and apprehending suspects. Other than that, a cool show.
The First 48 is definitely the best crime show on TV, broadcast or cable.
I haven’t seen Burn Notice, though, so I guess I’ll have to check it out.
Speaking of which, I never knew there were lyrics to the MASH theme song.
oh, well now I definitely have to record my school teacher version of it. RTO hates it, but he has no sense of, um, whatever it is that makes those kind of things highly amusing to me.
I hope to hell that when I do die somebody has the sense to just dump me in the river or something. Anything except sticking me in a goddam cemetary. People coming and putting a bunch of flowers on your stomach on Sunday, and all that crap. Who wants flowers when you’re dead? Nobody.
now I definitely have to record my school teacher version of it.
I ain’t never gonna comment on this. Nope. Never. Because I respect RTO, and because you knitted blanky that my little angel obsesses over, and goes mental when she cannot find it.
One odd thing about the MASH TV series: whenever they used the sound effects of an aircraft flying low overhead, it was a jet. In reality, that close to the front, 99% of the time it would have been a P-51 Mustang or an F4U Corsair, which were what was used most for close air support…
It’s fine if you don’t like Salinger. It’s a matter of taste: to each his own. As for myself, I can’t stand James Joyce. I muddled through Ulysses because I had to for a class assignment (IIRC, I got a B on the book report…), and gave up on Finnegan’s Wake. OTOH, I like Hemingway, but I know plenty of people who don’t.
Jeff, how old were you when you first read Catcher? Just wondering if that’s the “8” you’re referring to up there in the post…prolly pretty traumatic for most 8-year-olds, to absorb. I had to wait until I was 12.
Speaking of which, I never knew there were lyrics to the MASH theme song.
The one time I actually saw the entire movie, I heard the song being sung lyrics and all.
Well, maybe it isn’t that I ever watched the whole thing, but at least once I saw that particular scene. It might have slipped past me if I hadn’t already watched the TV show way too much.
Holden Caulfield was found dead in his room today. Holden was 15 and suffering from exaggerated adolescent angst. Reached for comment his biographer JD Salinger was heard to say, “Little bitch offed himself? Thank God.”
Caulfield’s mother said in an interview this morning, “Took him long enough to catch the hints we gave him. Thought we’d have to get him a high powered car and a couple o’ quarts of Jim Beam to get him to do himself in.
Holden Caulfield’s remains are to be cremated and the ashes disposed of by a random cemetery worker next Saturday when he goes fishing.
B Moe, Meghan McCain is an effervescent but shallow twit of a twiddler, of the plush-toy variety. I blame John McCain for a lot of poor political decisions; but for saddling us with MM, that’s near unforgivable.
Fitzgerald had all the best last lines. Always end on an uptick no matter what kind of shit went down in the story. My favorite, “His face was turned without regret toward the boundless possibilities of summer.” That mother could write.
She was a faded but still lovely woman of twenty-seven.
— “Early Success”
We’re growing old, Anthony. I’m twenty-seven, by God! Three
years to thirty, and then I’m what an undergraduate calls a
middle-aged man.
— _The Beautiful and the Damned_
One of those men who reach such an acute limited excellence at
twenty-one that everything afterward savours of anti-climax.
— _The Great Gatsby_
“I’m thirty,” I said. “I’m five years too old to lie to
myself and call it honour.”
— ibid
She was lovelier now at twenty-four than she had been at
eighteen, when her hair was brighter than she.
— _Tender is the Night_
The faces of most American women over thirty are relief maps
of petulant and bewildered unhappiness.
— letter, 5 Oct. 1940
When a man is tired of life at 21 it indicates that he is
rather tired of something in himself.
— letter, 29 Nov. 1940
Life promises so very much to a pretty girl between the ages
of sixteen and twenty-five that she never quite recovers from it.
— letter, 16 March 1938
I was probably 19 when I first read Catcher. Tenth grade Honors English read the book, but I was left out of that class thanks to an 85-year-old ninth grade English teacher who, when she wasn’t farting perfumed dust, lined her enormous panties with pages from Wilkie Collins novels.
I love flowers I’d love to have the whole place swimming in roses God of heaven there’s nothing like nature the wild mountains then the sea and the waves rushing then the beautiful country with fields of oats and wheat and all kinds of things and all the fine cattle going about that would do your heart good to see rivers and lakes and flowers all sorts of shapes and smells and colours springing up even out of the ditches primroses and violets nature it is as for them saying there’s no God I wouldn’t give a snap of my two fingers for all their learning why don’t they go and create something I often asked him atheists or whatever they call themselves go and wash the cobbles off themselves first then they go howling for the priest and they dying and why why because they’re afraid of hell on account of their bad conscience ah yes I know them well who was the first person in the universe before there was anybody that made it all who ah that they don’t know neither do I so there you are they might as well try to stop the sun from rising tomorrow the sun shines for you he said the day we were lying among the rhododendrons on Howth head in the grey tweed suit and his straw hat the day I got him to propose to me yes first I gave him the bit of seedcake out of my mouth and it was leapyear like now yes 16 years ago my God after that long kiss I near lost my breath yes he said was a flower of the mountain yes so we are flowers all a woman’s body yes that was one true thing he said in his life and the sun shines for you today yes that was why I liked him because I saw he understood or felt what a woman is and I knew I could always get round him and I gave him all the pleasure I could leading him on till he asked me to say yes and I wouldn’t answer first only looked out over the sea and the sky I was thinking of so many things he didn’t know of Mulvey and Mr Stanhope and Hester and father and old captain Groves and the sailors playing all birds fly and I say stoop and washing up dishes they called it on the pier and the sentry in front of the governors house with the thing round his white helmet poor devil half roasted and the Spanish girls laughing in their shawls and their tall combs and the auctions in the morning the Greeks and the Jews and the Arabs and the devil knows who else from all the ends of Europe and Duke street and the fowl market all clucking outside Larby Sharans and the poor donkeys slipping half asleep and the vague fellows in the cloaks asleep in the shade on the steps and the big wheels of the carts of the bulls and the old castle thousands of years old yes and those handsome Moors all in white and turbans like kings asking you to sit down in their little bit of a shop and Ronda with the old windows of the posadas glancing eyes a lattice hid for her lover to kiss the iron and the wineshops half open at night and the castanets and the night we missed the boat at Algeciras the watchman going about serene with his lamp and O that awful deepdown torrent O and the sea the sea crimson sometimes like fire and the glorious sunsets and the figtrees in the Alameda gardens yes and all the queer little streets and pink and blue and yellow houses and the rosegardens and the jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and Gibraltar as a girl where I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down Jo me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes.
Yikes. I didn’t realize he was still alive, but I should have suspected something after he failed to return my interview request for the 1503rd time.
It,s kinda like country dick dying and all
J.D. Salinger is not a role model?
Is J.D. Salinger not a role model?
Is not a role model J.D. Salinger?
Role model, J.D. Salinger, is not.
why was the catcher in the rye?
Huh?
Had a girlfriend that loved Raise High… an awful lot. She was a redhead.
All morons hate it when you call them a moron.
Because of the cliff by the field. And falling off the cliff ages you into adulthood. Where/when you might become a dickhead and a phony.
But, the catcher isn’t in the rye. Just sometimes you wish he was and sometimes you’d like to be him. If you are a teenager and starting to notice the real world.
i was kinda hoping he was looking for the baseball but i can see your point.
Here you go.
i think the ball is to his left
bh: So “Catcher in the Rye” was the story source for the movie “Field of Dreams?” Got it. I think the movie used corn, though.
One less JD. We are a dying breed.
Now can we have John Lennon back?
I guess we’ll get the answer to this now, at some point.
After all these years…
I’m still Holden Mygroin.
“The Catcher in the Rye” proves the character Jules Fougler was based on a real person.
http://tinyurl.com/ya6et5x
Also say goodbye to Louis Auchincloss and Howard Zinn.
Apropos of nothing, but there is a new Burn Notice on tonite.
“Also say goodbye to Louis Auchincloss and Howard Zinn.”
Good riddance to the latter. He and Noam Chumpsky deserved Nuremburg Trials.
The comments here, yikes.
There’s more than one way to read a book. Shallowly, as in, do I like the narrator?, do I find teenagers annoying?, seems to be the worst.
Also, there’s this thing called an unreliable narrator.
I was assigned to read David Copperfield one summer when I was around 12 or something and it was easily the most boring thing to give to a 12 year old to read. My Mom gave me Catcher In The Rye hoping it would help offset my frustration from Dickens depressing sludge, and within the first paragraph I was hooked.
JD was the literary equivalent of the Seattle grunge era sounds for your average angst ridden teenager in the US. I doubt there are many guys out there today who can claim any other book (“A Separate Peace” maybe?) connected with them at that age better than Catcher.
RIP.
I am lovable and never lie.
Tman,
HG Wells, Jonathan Swift, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, E. E. “Doc” Smith, Kenneth Robeson, Robert Louis Stevenson, etc.
Salinger was not even on my horizon.
Blake,
Not to take away from those authors, who are all excellent, but things like 1984 or Treasure Island didn’t exactly connect with me in the same way that Catcher did. I’m not saying that they weren’t also literary gold, but Catcher stood alone to me and apparently many others as the classic angst ridden teenager bible.
Tman,
I never understood all the fuss about Catcher in the Rye. Perhaps if I’d have read it as a teenager it would have been different.
I was assigned <i as a teenager. I wasn’t really interested at the time in reading about some other guy’s teen angst — too busy trying to get some of my own.
I would hope everyone would know I was referring to the book Salinger wrote…
Blake,
I read it again a few years ago and it immediately brought back memories of hormonal zit-faced voice cracking madness. Had I not read it at that age I probably would feel the same way as you.
I’ve enjoyed Catcher much more as an adult than as a teenager.
Salinger was a first class stylist.
Sock off.
For my money, Catcher in the Rye and Huck Finn are the two greatest first person novels in American literature (with Nick’s telling of Gatsby and Portnoy’s Complaint rounding out the top 4).
YMMV, of course, but I also happen to think it’s one of the funniest books ever written.
Salinger has been systematically removed from the canon, to be replaced by authors with not a third of his talent. He refused to play the game. So he must be punished.
In many ways, he’s a cautionary tale.
I’ve always been a little nervous that to read Catcher again as an adult would remove some of the magic from what is otherwise a very fine memory from my teenage years. Until I read the Stand a few years later, I was certain Catcher was the best book evah.
Don’t be Makewi, it was borderline therapeutic to read it again. It was eery the way it brought back the same emotions I had from way back when I read it the first time. The zits are gone and my voice finally changed but I wish I could tell my twelve year old self that life now is still a big fucking mystery.
I was supposedly the model for “Terrance Mann” in Field of Dreams. I love baseball and the concept of a heaven on earth is interesting metaphor, but Jesus Christ did they fuck up that part of that story with that retarded sixties crap.
And you wonder why I was pissed off all the time.
Wow. Not much good to say about old JD over at Althouse’s digs.
Personally, I get tired of watching “conservative intellectuals” stepping all over each other to tell you how they “much prefer Heinlein,” but then, that’s only because I don’t believe they’ve really ever read much of either.
I love this place. Now I kinda want zombie Salinger to get in a fight with zombie Andre the Giant here in the comments.
They don’t care for me much, do they?
Yeah, Jeff, I was shocked by that over at Althouse’s.
Blake,
Very probably true. At 15, I loved it. At 35, I thought Holden was annoying and self-indulgent, but understood why I liked the book so much 20 years earlier.
bh
Jeff
bh
Ugh. A little more jackassery than I feel like dealing with today.
:: closes it up ::
Henry Fielding rousted himself from his slumbers.
His first word? “Who?”
His seconds? “Ah. An eleemosynary duty then, my good man?”
Jeff
No argument here. That’s much the same as my (much admired) high school American Lit/History/Civics teacher saw it. He was also the first person I heard use the phrase “Classical Liberal”.
RIP, JD.
RIP, Dave Goldsmith
One day I will be declared the greatest American writer ever. Perhaps greatest writer ever, but it has been delayed because too many people are jealous of my greatness.
I am a kind of paranoid in reverse. I suspect people of plotting to make me happy.
I read so many parodies of Catcher over the years that it kind of put me off reading the real thing. Maybe now that I’ve hauled up into middle age I can clap fresh eyes on it, should I choose to take it up again.
I wanted to have a daughter and name her Zooey. I wore my Franney and Zooey and Nine Stories into tattered nubs. Haven’t read them in ages though.
“I’m just so sick of pedants and conceited little tearer-downers I could scream”
I’ve read most of the Heinlein books and none of Salinger’s. I consider Heinlein a guy who could pretty much write a story that entertained me, and I’ve read the majority of his books more than once. He had some cool political ideas as well. However, that’s the end of it. I don’t consider him a literary giant, except perhaps in the genre which contains few if any giants. Then again, I’m just an idiot who reads mostly science fiction and fantasy, so what do I know? Nothing.
Maybe I lack the ability to determine what’s “great” in literature, much like there are people who cannot distinguish a major triad from a minor triad. To my ears they are so different that I cannot imagine how one couldn’t tell the difference.
LMC,
I know what you mean. I still have my paperback copies of Franny and Zooey, Raise High the Roofbeams, and Nine Stories I’ve had since high school (cover price: 75¢). Haven’t read them in years, either.
I usually find myself getting caught up in the strange little physical ticks of characters or odd set pieces when I write, like Franklin’s bandage or the Glass’ apartment. It’s to my detriment, I do it badly and I get stuck. I’m not JD Salinger.
cranky-d
Who says you’re an idiot? I like Heinlein (and Clarke and Asimov and…). Hell, I’ve read The Lord of the Rings at least 16 times in the last 37 years.
Let’s hope not. He has to be pretty damn stinky by now. Not to mention that the beatles sucked ass, especially when compared to the Beach Boys.
In addition to any of its other attributes, Catcher in the Rye made New York seem like a magical place to a kid from the midwest.
You are really quite insane…
Hey, check it out.
I’m going to agree on the Beatles. The Hudson Brother’s they ain’t.
Seriously, my kids are way into the box set and it’s just not that good.
Thanks for noticing.
Nonetheless, I do have good taste in music.
LMI, unfortunately those are only accessible if you have a digital subscription.
I was going to write something about the beauty of art being in the eye of the beholder but then Jim in KC went and said that about the Beatles and now I am struck with an urge to question his taste instead.
I think it’s fine to be an art slut (opposite of snob). Beatles are cool. As are the Beach Boys. Salinger is cool. As is Heinlein.
#58 Earlier today, anyone could read them. I guess they turned off the free reading offer after a day.
Brian Wilson on his worst day towered over any of the Beatles as a songwriter, arranger, and/or producer. Musical midgets, they were, compared to him.
Mmmm… okifyousayso.
I thought that the opening line of the book was as pitch perfect as anything I’ve ever read: “If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is where I was born and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don’t feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth.”
Heinlein and Asimov and a lot of those cats are good story tellers, but I have never paused while reading one of their books and thought: damn, that was a well turned sentence. Salinger could tell a story and he could write.
Maybe Salinger can beat the tar out of Howard Zinn while they wait in line at the Judgment Bar.
What? They’re going to hold it against him?
I’m sorry, but JD Salinger is in a better place….OFF of this mortal plane. His writing was never enthralling (don’t get me GOING about Catcher) nor was it original.
I’m embarrassed to say that it was my generation that love Holden Caulfield and with apologies to you youngers? He was a HACK.
Bmoe? I also often thought that. Yes, the man could write. What he could not do was entertain. When you’re 15-16? and run into Heinlien or Asimov, It beats Salinger like a rented red haired step-puppy.
I get Catcher. But I still think Holden C. is a douche. I can appreciate the work, but it will never resonate.
howard zinn is more pitcher than catcher wink wink
pw is 8 years old? When is its birthday?
Noah —
Agreed. Great opening line. Maybe my favorite. Or maybe that belongs to Gravity’s Rainbow, as seen from the perspective of having finished the thing: “A screaming comes across the sky.”
Best last line? Toss up between Gatsby and Rabbit, Redux. In the latter, the last line is a perfect, “Okay?”
In the former, the justly praised, “So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”
Well, to each his own. But as a writer myself, I can tell you that creating a character with as distinct (and perfect) a voice as Holden’s is no easy task. Sustaining it is even more difficult.
And to think: in its earlier incarnations, the Holden stories were told in the third person.
Dicentra —
Not sure exactly. Late December of ’01, with time off here and there.
I Know what you’re saying JG, and I’ve read about everything I could that he wrote? I still have to say “meh”….
Maybe because I’m not a writer? maybe because I want to learn or be entertained while I read? But Salinger did neither for me. Sorry?
For comparison.
There’s a section where the short story is retold in the novel.
To illustrate Jeff’s point, it might be illustrative to excerpt part of that section of the novel.
(Don’t have the novel handy.)
According to Wiki, Chapter 17.
It appears we are not in proper lockstep around here. I blame Bush.
I was going to make a zombie Hemingway joke but then realized he died the way you kill zombies. So, I guess he can’t be one?
Weird.
I do not want to see zombie JD’s running around here.
Too good to not share: How to report the news.
FUNNY BECAUSE IT’S TWUUUU.
Blitz: Sometimes it’s a taste thing. With Great Novels, sometimes it’s when you read them.
The line that Jeff quotes sounds a little hackneyed now, but only because Caulfield’s voice and attitude have been imitated to death. If you’ve been exposed to the stuff that was influenced by Catcher before you read the original, sometimes the original won’t seem all that, well, original.
It’s like not seeing Silence of the Lambs until after you’ve watched the entire run of The X-Files (which is what happened to me). After all the gore and twisted horror of The X-Files, Silence really wasn’t all that shocking.
And if you’ve been watching Criminal Minds for any length of time, Hannibal Lector is positively tame by comparison to the average unsub.
Go Colts! And Braaaaaaaaains!
I mean, come on. “Hannibal the Cannibal” has something over on Eugene Tooms, and “It puts the lotion on its skin” can hold a candle to CM’s pig farmer?
Pshaw, I say. Double pshaw.
See what I mean? The real zombie JD would mock the Taints, question someone’s manhood, and call Barcky an idiot. That is all.
Criminal Minds is a most excellent television program. Not as good as Burn Notice, but close.
“Criminal Minds” has warped the way my wife and I read the news. Recently two single-vehicle accidents occurred a week apart in our area, in which the drivers wound up drowning in upside-down cars in the exact same stormwater pond.
We both wondered if we had a clever serial killer at work, using precision driving techniques to commit his crimes.
The Saints secondary is porous… but their helmets aren’t. Brains!
McG – Twisted.
The second accident was discovered by friends of the victim in the first; they went to look at the scene where their friend died, and saw another car upside down in the water at what they told the local paper was the exact spot where their friend’s car came to rest.
Close. Taints! Like it ain’t the ass and it ain’t the balls. Taint. But you are getting better.
The Great American Novel isn’t my bag (except for Gravity’s Rainbow*), but that character “JD Salinger” is one of my favorites. I hope he stays muddled.
*But I don’t like the first line. It’s too first line of a story. I know why it is. I’ve even made up extra reasons for it to be so…Asimov-y. But I still read it first, the first time. Brought me down.
Which, you just know on any of those detective shows on TV would have to be no coincidence!
I’m staying clear of that damn pond, is all I’m going to say.
I think the greatest first line of a story was “Dear Penthouse”
Even zombie JD likes Gabrielle Anwar.
My one submission to Penthouse letters was rejected. I suspect it’s because the first sentence began, “Once upon a time…”
Tight ass on that one, so who cares about brains.
Jeff G.
We’ll have to disagree about “Catcher in the Rye” (does this mean I’m kicked out of the slavish sycophant PW club?) but, I agree with your observation about the lack of talent that is being foisted off on the general public.
Reading the first line of Gabrielle Anwar’s “brain” would be a novel task for any zombie.
McGehee, dicentra,
I’ve recently come to like Criminal Minds, but I have the same complaint about it that I do about CSI, where in real life, crime scene investigators collect, catalogue evidence and try to make sense of a crime scene, but do not go after suspects – that’s a homicide detective’s job; criminal profilers are a support unit, not field agents tracking down and apprehending suspects. Other than that, a cool show.
The First 48 is definitely the best crime show on TV, broadcast or cable.
I haven’t seen Burn Notice, though, so I guess I’ll have to check it out.
JD
I thought that was “I never thought it would happen to me…”
;^)
Everybody’d think I was just a poor deaf-mute bastard and they’d leave me alone.
White Collar is pretty dman good too. Justified on Fx looks like it will be very good too.
“I never thought it would happen to me…”
It was a dark and stormy night.
Hands down the best first sentence ever.
I thought everyone knew that.
Burge was behind that propaganda film.
Marshmallows!
sdferr,
Which one?
bh’s cheerleaders Spiny (note the helmet)
Iowa Hawkeyes, the helmet. Burge.*
Iowa Hawkeyes lurv to kiss purple helmets.
Speaking of which, I never knew there were lyrics to the MASH theme song.
I’m not necessarily retarded (maybe though), just young.
Didn’t Altman’s son write them? I think he did.
Yeah, sdferr.
(Just learned that today, geh. After learning there was an actual song.)
oh, well now I definitely have to record my school teacher version of it. RTO hates it, but he has no sense of, um, whatever it is that makes those kind of things highly amusing to me.
Do it, please. Do it, upload it and link it.
Speaking of which, yet again, can anyone repost the link to B Moe playing the guitar once more?
Anyone?
it will be a few days/weeks maybe. RTO leaves for a month next weekend, and at the moment I have no voice.
I hope to hell that when I do die somebody has the sense to just dump me in the river or something. Anything except sticking me in a goddam cemetary. People coming and putting a bunch of flowers on your stomach on Sunday, and all that crap. Who wants flowers when you’re dead? Nobody.
If a girl looks swell when she meets you, who gives a damn if she’s late? Nobody.
now I definitely have to record my school teacher version of it.
I ain’t never gonna comment on this. Nope. Never. Because I respect RTO, and because you knitted blanky that my little angel obsesses over, and goes mental when she cannot find it.
bh
I guess it means I’m old if I can say I saw the movie before the TV series.
Even though it was an obvious anti-Vietnam War movie, it was still a good flick. So was Catch 22.
One odd thing about the MASH TV series: whenever they used the sound effects of an aircraft flying low overhead, it was a jet. In reality, that close to the front, 99% of the time it would have been a P-51 Mustang or an F4U Corsair, which were what was used most for close air support…
I’ve never actually seen the MASH movie either, Spiny. And, I sorta figured jets have been flying around since the Civil War.
Okay, I am retarded. But, we all knew that, didn’t we?
By the way…
Blitz,
It’s fine if you don’t like Salinger. It’s a matter of taste: to each his own. As for myself, I can’t stand James Joyce. I muddled through Ulysses because I had to for a class assignment (IIRC, I got a B on the book report…), and gave up on Finnegan’s Wake. OTOH, I like Hemingway, but I know plenty of people who don’t.
bh,
Don’t mind me; besides being a sci-fi/fantasy geek (yes, I’ve been to ComiCon – twice), I’m also a military airplane geek.
It’s cool, Spiny. My Civil War jets was a joke on me, not you. I’ve always been googling half the stuff I read around here.
My nomination for best last line, Portnoy’s Complaint – “Now vee may perhaps to begin. Yes?”
Who says Holden Caulfield challenges authority? No one challenged authority like I did!
GET STUFFED!
Jeff, how old were you when you first read Catcher? Just wondering if that’s the “8” you’re referring to up there in the post…prolly pretty traumatic for most 8-year-olds, to absorb. I had to wait until I was 12.
Has anybody seen happyfeet? I am afraid his head may have exploded.
The one time I actually saw the entire movie, I heard the song being sung lyrics and all.
Well, maybe it isn’t that I ever watched the whole thing, but at least once I saw that particular scene. It might have slipped past me if I hadn’t already watched the TV show way too much.
News Flash!
Holden Caulfield was found dead in his room today. Holden was 15 and suffering from exaggerated adolescent angst. Reached for comment his biographer JD Salinger was heard to say, “Little bitch offed himself? Thank God.”
Caulfield’s mother said in an interview this morning, “Took him long enough to catch the hints we gave him. Thought we’d have to get him a high powered car and a couple o’ quarts of Jim Beam to get him to do himself in.
Holden Caulfield’s remains are to be cremated and the ashes disposed of by a random cemetery worker next Saturday when he goes fishing.
B Moe, Meghan McCain is an effervescent but shallow twit of a twiddler, of the plush-toy variety. I blame John McCain for a lot of poor political decisions; but for saddling us with MM, that’s near unforgivable.
Fitzgerald had all the best last lines. Always end on an uptick no matter what kind of shit went down in the story. My favorite, “His face was turned without regret toward the boundless possibilities of summer.” That mother could write.
F. Scott Fitzgerald guesses your age:
She was a faded but still lovely woman of twenty-seven.
— “Early Success”
We’re growing old, Anthony. I’m twenty-seven, by God! Three
years to thirty, and then I’m what an undergraduate calls a
middle-aged man.
— _The Beautiful and the Damned_
One of those men who reach such an acute limited excellence at
twenty-one that everything afterward savours of anti-climax.
— _The Great Gatsby_
“I’m thirty,” I said. “I’m five years too old to lie to
myself and call it honour.”
— ibid
She was lovelier now at twenty-four than she had been at
eighteen, when her hair was brighter than she.
— _Tender is the Night_
The faces of most American women over thirty are relief maps
of petulant and bewildered unhappiness.
— letter, 5 Oct. 1940
When a man is tired of life at 21 it indicates that he is
rather tired of something in himself.
— letter, 29 Nov. 1940
Life promises so very much to a pretty girl between the ages
of sixteen and twenty-five that she never quite recovers from it.
— letter, 16 March 1938
I was probably 19 when I first read Catcher. Tenth grade Honors English read the book, but I was left out of that class thanks to an 85-year-old ninth grade English teacher who, when she wasn’t farting perfumed dust, lined her enormous panties with pages from Wilkie Collins novels.
RIP Howard Zinn as well
Learn something about American history:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Arn3lF5XSUg
I love flowers I’d love to have the whole place swimming in roses God of heaven there’s nothing like nature the wild mountains then the sea and the waves rushing then the beautiful country with fields of oats and wheat and all kinds of things and all the fine cattle going about that would do your heart good to see rivers and lakes and flowers all sorts of shapes and smells and colours springing up even out of the ditches primroses and violets nature it is as for them saying there’s no God I wouldn’t give a snap of my two fingers for all their learning why don’t they go and create something I often asked him atheists or whatever they call themselves go and wash the cobbles off themselves first then they go howling for the priest and they dying and why why because they’re afraid of hell on account of their bad conscience ah yes I know them well who was the first person in the universe before there was anybody that made it all who ah that they don’t know neither do I so there you are they might as well try to stop the sun from rising tomorrow the sun shines for you he said the day we were lying among the rhododendrons on Howth head in the grey tweed suit and his straw hat the day I got him to propose to me yes first I gave him the bit of seedcake out of my mouth and it was leapyear like now yes 16 years ago my God after that long kiss I near lost my breath yes he said was a flower of the mountain yes so we are flowers all a woman’s body yes that was one true thing he said in his life and the sun shines for you today yes that was why I liked him because I saw he understood or felt what a woman is and I knew I could always get round him and I gave him all the pleasure I could leading him on till he asked me to say yes and I wouldn’t answer first only looked out over the sea and the sky I was thinking of so many things he didn’t know of Mulvey and Mr Stanhope and Hester and father and old captain Groves and the sailors playing all birds fly and I say stoop and washing up dishes they called it on the pier and the sentry in front of the governors house with the thing round his white helmet poor devil half roasted and the Spanish girls laughing in their shawls and their tall combs and the auctions in the morning the Greeks and the Jews and the Arabs and the devil knows who else from all the ends of Europe and Duke street and the fowl market all clucking outside Larby Sharans and the poor donkeys slipping half asleep and the vague fellows in the cloaks asleep in the shade on the steps and the big wheels of the carts of the bulls and the old castle thousands of years old yes and those handsome Moors all in white and turbans like kings asking you to sit down in their little bit of a shop and Ronda with the old windows of the posadas glancing eyes a lattice hid for her lover to kiss the iron and the wineshops half open at night and the castanets and the night we missed the boat at Algeciras the watchman going about serene with his lamp and O that awful deepdown torrent O and the sea the sea crimson sometimes like fire and the glorious sunsets and the figtrees in the Alameda gardens yes and all the queer little streets and pink and blue and yellow houses and the rosegardens and the jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and Gibraltar as a girl where I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down Jo me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes.
If Holden met me he probably wouldn’t have been so angst ridden.
Has anybody seen happyfeet? I am afraid his head may have exploded.
Nor ‘zono neither.
I fear worse.