A few weeks ago, after reclusive author J.D. Salinger died, I decided to re-read The Catcher in the Rye. I had read this book in my early twenties (and then thought it was okay). Now, reading the book at the midpoint of my life, I can see that this novel would likely never find a publisher today. The novel is definitely a coming-of-age story, and since I've already come of age (and then some) I found nothing delightful, insightful, or even likable about this narrative. There was not a single character that grabbed me.
I have a feeling that Catcher caught on simply because it was one of the first books (published in the 1950s) that challenged many of the literary taboos of that era--namely, certain four-letter words that were not deemed acceptable by socialites. Well, the book has pages filled with four-letter words, even some that are six or seven letters, and the story deals with many other taboo subjects. Hence, it's popularity and classic status. Kids wanted to read what they were forbidden to read. All of it is TAME, however, by today's standards.
But as far as novels go . . . man, this is a snoozer. I hate to bash Salinger's grave, and yes, the guy sold sixty million copies, but the book will now go back onto my shelf and stay there.
And now, since I finished reading a cold book, I'm planning to warm things up with Timothy Egan's, The Big Burn: Teddy Roosevelt & the Fire That Saved America. Show begins later tonight.
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