JD Salinger died, as I’m sure you all know now, yesterday. For me, and I know it’s clichéd, Salinger means ‘Catcher in the Rye’. What was it that made, and still makes, ‘Catcher in the Rye’ such a formative influence for so many teenagers, and one of those books that people say “I hate reading, but I loved that”, about?
At an age when you don’t feel close to anybody for very long, and when it feels like the whole world really doesn’t get you, and this makes you very frustrated, up pops ‘Catcher in the Rye’. Classic, people say. Great, you think, it’ll be patronising, like other books for teenagers, or boring, like classics always are. Then someone says to you, directly from the page,
“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”.
“What just happened?” you think. Well, someone is just writing with honesty and directness, and entirely without artifice, and it’s the first time that’s happened to you. The sentiment of “For God’s sake, please stop speaking to me” is an experience that occurs almost daily in adolescence, when your own head is full enough without people stopping to enquire about the state of it. Having realised that someone else, well, the person in this book, appreciates this, you decide you’ll give this guy a few more pages. Two hours later, you’re done.
Holden is just the right balance of tragic, charming, naive, and generous. For example, his behaviour towards his sister, Phoebe, is spot on. A sibling is someone you love, obviously, but with whom you can’t be too open about it. That would be weird. So we get “She put her arms around my neck and all. She’s very affectionate. I sort of gave her a kiss, and she said, “Whenja get home?” This short piece of dialogue immediately sentence communicates a sibling bond that is incredibly strong, but absolutely refuses to fall into sentimental clichés. It’s what (this kind) of writing should be about. Authentic to experience, no bullshitting, and no emotional Nutella spread on top to sweeten things.
Then there’s Holden and school. Hell may be other people, as Sartre said, but surely other teenagers in close proximity are the ninth circle. At school, Salinger offers us a range of experiences, from utter banality (Stradsler’s toenails) to the comic (Holden’s obsession with his hat) to the horrific (when his classmate is killed falling out of a window). The people and times in your life who become like furniture, almost parodying themselves, like the disgusting roommate, the school bully, and the those awful moments when teachers pity you rather than shout. This balance is so crucial in the novel because being a teenager is the first time you become responsible for your own actions, and Holden’s inability to get it right makes you feel like at last you’re not the only one who has no idea what is going on.
From my own experiences of private education, I can also say that one line in particular rings so true: “The more expensive a school is, the more crooks it has – I’m not kidding.” Holden is right. How else do the parents get the money for the fees?
All the embarrassment and the thrill of potential sexual experiences are also so well played by Salinger. The conversation with the prostitute in place of intercourse is so comic because it is so plausible. Holden doesn’t know how to talk to girls, let alone have sex with them. Plus ça change…
When I was in sixth form and feeling down, I’d pick this book up for the thousandth time and seclude myself with the only one who seemed to understand: Holden. So even though Salinger’s gone, his most important creation remains as vibrant, and as alive in my head, as ever.
