What we take away from a book
is a function of who we are, the sum of our life experiences--our world view.
After two readings thirty years apart and a great deal of study and analysis,
here are my insights.
The teenage years are when we
reject our parents and look for answers outside the family/extended family
circle of comfort and trust. They've lied to us about Santa Claus and the
Boogey Man; what else have they been lying about? We've begun noticing their flaws
and started looking elsewhere for answers. We want to be prepared for life, for
making our own decisions. The hypocrisy (phoniness) within our formerly godlike
inner circle of family has discredited them. Who can we trust? Where are the
answers? And so today we pick up books like Dianetics and Atlas Shrugged and
Hunger Games.
What I've not seen replicated
elsewhere in literature is the concentrated depth and breadth of The Catcher in
the Rye's socio-cultural footprint. Through the protagonist/narrator's
interactions with a host of minor characters we are treated to slice after
relentless slice of the world of an upper middle-class New York City teenager's
life during the early 1950s.
Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales
and Homer's The Odyssey do something similar, but they're not as intense
because they cover much more real estate. Catcher is only 220 pages. Instead of
the usual linear plot line, all three of these books treat us to the adventures
of a journey. It's the trip that's important, not the destination or goal.
Salinger throws us scene after
scene of Holden's urban life in a near kaleidoscopic array of
snapshots--current and former teachers, current and former classmates, his
sister, flashbacks to his brothers and parents, cab drivers, girlfriends and
former girlfriends, a teenage prostitute, doormen, chance meetings with
tourists, nuns and some kids at the museum. With each engagement we learn
something about Holden and we learn something about his urban life. We go to
movies, a play, the park, the museum and a carnival. We ride a bus, a train,
then a series of cabs with him. And we end up in a "rest home" with
him.
Due to the limitations of
first-person point of view there's a sparseness of literary tools such as
simile, metaphor, lyricism, etc., but the reader is forced to buy into the
character so quickly that literary trimmings don't matter. Were Scott
Fitzgerald the author, we would be treated to brilliant descriptions of the
glittering city lights and rhythms of the street. But we are in Holden's head,
and he is in too much of a panic to notice much beyond his immediate
crisis.
Holden's the kind of guy that,
if you met him on a bus you'd wonder what's wrong with him. Some people would
move away, but I'd sit next to him and engage him in conversation. I would be
curious what's wrong.
In rereading the book last fall
I discovered that Holden seemed to be suffering from PTSD stemming from the
death of his brother and from witnessing the suicide of a schoolmate, James
Castle, who bailed out of an upstairs dorm window wearing the sweater Holden
loaned him. I began noticing the symptoms of PTSD: depression, poor
concentration, attention deficit, crying, rage, lack of motivation,
self-isolation, sleeplessness, hyper-vigilance, etc. I'm intimately familiar
with these symptoms because my own childhood trauma. I live with that same
feeling Holden has of needing to protect children.
To me Catcher is less about
teenaged coming-of-age angst and more about a kid struggling against the
downward spiral of mental illness. Without professional help he was doomed to
submerge, and did.
Holden was barely "holdin'
on."
There's a lot of cultural and
psychological meat in there: a) how boys interact with each other when living
in close quarters, b) particularly when two have or are dating the same girl
and one feels protective of her (Jane Gallagher), c) how a sensitive boy might
behave because of a deep emotional wound (e.g., the trauma of losing a younger
brother and from witnessing the suicide of a classmate and d) how that boy
might become neurotically protective toward his younger sister and toward
children in general because of c).
Most teenagers aren't mature
enough to comprehend the psychological ramifications of what I've just
described unless they've been prepared for it by a mature adult who does
comprehend. And there are many adults who couldn't.
Indeed, most adults have
psychological defenses that don't allow even them to comprehend what I've just
described. It is either too abstract, too complicated or too scary. I suspect
this is the main reason the book is so controversial. Most people don't get it
because they can't afford to, unless someone points the way or they experience
PTSD first-hand.
Until you've been stung by a
bee, "bee sting" is an abstract notion.
A greater sense of Holden
Caufield through JD Salinger can be found in the film Finding Forester, which is
purported to be based on Salinger's life. The film leads us to conclude that
Forster's reclusiveness is rooted in the trauma of losing his beloved brother
in a car crash.
In World War II, Salinger
participated in tne Normandy Landing and Battle of the Bulge and other combat
where his fellow troops were decimiated. He was among the first Allied forces
to visit a German concentration camp. He was hospitalized for "battle
fatigue." He understood the long term effects of trauma.
In a 1953 interview with a high-school
newspaper, Salinger said that the novel was "sort of"
autobiographical: "My boyhood was very much the same as that of the boy in
the book ...it was a great relief telling people about it."
When writing the book, Salinger
wouldn't have had a clue about PTSD, as it wasn't even in the diagnostic manual
(DSM) for psychologists until decades later. He was just writing what he felt,
blasting his feelings onto paper.
Many people see Salinger as a
sort of literary genius because he sold 70 million copies of one book. I'm not
saying he wasn't talented and educated; he had plenty of both going for him.
I'm saying he leveraged his talent on top of some inner need to get this
desperate crisis part of his life onto paper and out of his head.
A great segment of the literary
world has understandably attributed Holden's PTSD symptoms to teenage angst,
but this is a gross oversimplification. It's his masterfully presented array of
symptoms that's largely responsible for the success of the book. It's too
complicated or too sensitive for English teachers to talk about mental illness;
so they focus on the simple and more obvious interpretation. These teachers are
missing a phenomenal opportunity to reach kids who are in crisis or know
someone who is.
Bearing in mind that we're
talking about a fictional character, no one can actually diagnose Holden,
but I have plenty of experience with the condition. I can spot symptoms in an
instant. For example, a hyper-vigilant person likes to sit where he can see the
door and with his back to a wall. He/she glances around constantly instead of
holding a steady gaze while in conversation. I went through the book and
itemized instances of the symptoms. Give it a shot and see if you don't reach a
similar conclusion.
By wanting to save others
Holden was saving himself and did so, with Phoebe's help. I see the the
carousel is a metaphor for the connectedness of humanity. We see ourselves in
others.
He was traumatized by the death
of his brother Allie, sensitizing him to the reality of unjust death and
suffering. It was personal, not just something he read about or saw in a movie.
In it's worst form PTSD
originates not from a single event but from repeated trauma taking place over a
period of time, months and years, as in military combat. There is a compounding
effect. It can drive people crazy, make them want to commit suicide. And they
sometimes do. Holden reacted voilently, breaking every window in the garage and
breaking his hand in the process.
Holden had plenty of time to
anticipate his beloved Allie's demise because it took place over a period of
months during which he watched him deteriorate as the cancer worked its
grotesque way through Allie's body. And the trauma built up in compounded
layers.
Holden was in this highly
sensitized state when James Castle threw himself out a dorm window, and the
shock of it was too much, putting Holden into an emotional tailspin.
Innocent children were dying
and it upset him, but he wasn't obsessed over protecting children's innocence;
he didn't know what was wrong. He was just groping for answers, trying to
regain control over his emotions, his life.
He was lonely, depressed, sick
and run-down. He had crying spells. He didn't know why and no one had any
answers. He didn't understand why he couldn't concentrate on his studies and be
motivated to do schoolwork. He was so distracted he even left the fencing gear
on the train. He was so hyper-sensitive he exploded at the sexually experienced Stradlater over a
girl they had both dated.
Holden felt lost and out of
control, and his love of Phoebe and hers for him redeemed him, pulling him back
from the potential disaster of running away and got him home where he would be
safe.
Labels like "teenage
angst" and "PTSD" can be dismissive and do not relieve readers
from the duty to probe for meaning. Whatever the cause, Holden is a highly
sensitive boy who's suffering and searching for relief.
No matter how hard an author
tries to imbue his or her work with what is to the author a very important and
obvious message about the human condition, he or she may fail simply because a
reader lacks the capacity to comprehend it or misconstrues the story's basic
truths. The Grapes of Wrath, for instance, was (and still is) attacked by
wealthy corporate agricultural interests in California who refuse to accept it.
I've heard one actually say that Steinbeck exaggerated the plight of the
workers in order to sell books. It's human nature to believe what you need to
believe, despite countervailing evidence.
CITR obviously meant something
unusual to those two young men who had copies of the book when one killed John
Lennon and the other shot President Reagan. Perhaps this meant they were
looking for answers. Their value systems were running amok, and Holden's angst
resonated with their sense of being lost and unable to cope with the phoniness
of life.
Atlas Shrugged give a simple
solution to all decisions, do only what is in your self interest. But that's in
direct conflict what we are taught by most religions in the Judeo-Christian
world, to do unto others as you would have done unto you and love thy neighbor
as thyself. People who haven't yet learned to reconcile self interest with the
common good can be thrown into mental conflict and feel angst. Maybe this is
why some people don't like Holden/CITR; it doesn't offer answers. It just
describes how it feels to be lost. It reminds them too much of themselves.
All that said, if you can enjoy
Holden just as he is, without analyzing "every grey hair" (as someone
put it) then by all means do so. But in case you want to go deeper, well here
it is.
Update-The John Green Videos on
Youtube:
Green is good, but he tends to
regurgitate academia. Go straight to the book and pay attention to how it
speaks to you. Wait a few years, then reread it. You'll be amazed at how the
book seems to change. But it will be you that changes.
I don't agree, as Green
alleges, that Holden was resisting adulthood. He embraced it. He did adult
things, drinking and going to nightclubs and stage performances. He seems proud
that he has a streak of grey hair and can pass for an adult. Seeking the
company of a prostitute is adult behavior. He sought out adult company and
conversation on the train and at the nightclub and with the nuns. He joked with
kids at the museum. He was comfortable and confident with both children and
adults.
Green misinterprets Holden's
comment at the museum that some things should never change. Holden was
talking about that deja vu feeling you get when you go to some familiar place
after being away, like when you go away to college and return to the drive-in
where you used to cruise. Or you visit the neighborhood you grew up in after
moving away.
The diorama with the bare
breasted squaw was a landmark for Holden as it is many New Yorkers to this day.
It's like in Breakfast at Tiffany's when Holly Golightly goes to hang out in
front of Tiffany's in the wee hours of the morning to cure "the mean reds."
It was a place that made her feel secure.
We all have our favorite
landmarks. That's what Holden was getting at. And yet Green cites it as
evidence that Holden was resisting change, resisting maturity. It is a matter
of interpretation.
Holden wanted to run away to a
cabin in the woods. That' where Salinger lived, and died. Phoebe pulled him
back from making what could have been a bad mistake with a lifetime of consequences. That's redemption, an adult concept.
