Writer : J.D. Salinger
Publishing year : 1951
Language : English
Type : Classic / Novel
How come ? : Considered one of the best English novels of all times, and often shouldering the likes of "The Great Gatsby" and "Adventures of Huckleberry Finn" .. I thought it would be a great start for my Classics section. Plus it has a cool cover art, and that's always something.
Estimated time : 6~7 hours.
Main themes : Alienation, Self-consciousness, Meaning of Life, Coming of age, Adulthood, Mental illness, Society.
Recommended for : Anyone familiar with issues in any of the themes mentioned above. Mostly for people who kind of hate the society they're born in, and generally for anyone who likes a well-written, witty, different story.
The book in a few words : The stream of consciousness of a 17 years-old boy with an eccentric personality.
The synopsis : At the age of 17 Holden Caulfield, a self-proclaimed madman, is coming to terms with his transition to adulthood, stuck between his misanthropic tendencies and his need of acceptance in a world full of adults' puzzles.
Well .. that's was different.
I didn't know what to expect from the novel when I started it. The primary indicators (the cover and the mysterious title) weren't too much of a cue, so all I knew was that it's a classic, so it must be good.
Well judging by the rating I gave it, it was more than just "good". I reached the level of excellency for me in many aspects that are so hard to enumerate and harder to verbalize, you just feel them as you read, that's how you know that something is precious.
The first thing I noticed about the novel is the pace of the narration. It didn't start slowly, it didn't decelerate. And since I read it in one take, it really felt like it's actually narrated by the protagonist, like, to me, like, face to face. The pace is so natural and quite speedy it drove all your attention to the story-telling aspect of the novel. Unlike many other novels that are written in the first-person perspective, this one really feels like it's narrated in real time by the narrator rather than him telling it in episodes or chronicles. It was almost like a stream of consciousness, where there is hardly any rigid transition between one idea and the other. With a light tone, the story is carried on by the narrator at an extraordinary ease. And for a story that is majorly built around the experience of the character, this feeling of reality and time really helps to understand, if not to connect with, the character in question in dimensions exceeded the usual psychological and behavioral analysis of it.
Once you'll get used to the pace/casual style of the narration, the next thing that will strike you is the repetitive use of some expressions/words by the author/narrator which gave him kind of a signature, a trait that none of the other characters you've previously known have. The extensive use of 2nd degree profanity (Damn, Hell, Bastard ..) is a unique aspect of the writing style. As of speaking in statistics, the novel is made of 53% of "Hell", 63% "That killed me", 74% "phony" and 88% "goddam" (naturally as of any statistics, they don't add up to 100% and I don't care). Frankly, it's THAT repetitive. And not negatively repetitive as you might have thought, actually quite the opposite. After the few first pages, you'll start thinking of the character as one of those people who use a certain linguistic mold recurrently, and after you'll get used to it, you'll start loving it. The character isn't a bad vulgar guy with no manners, he's an anguished person, and that's all about it.
Then comes one of the main reasons for my 9/10 : Sarcasm. It's one of those things that can't be affected and forced, and dang Salinger knows what he's doing. I wasn't expecting it at all from a book that is considered classic. I don't know why but I always thought of classics as those books that are serious and wise and soberly written, and little did I know that the Catcher in the Rye was a LOL book. I mean literally, I laughed out loud many times, and at some point (that I forgot now, which is good since I do plan to reread the book and I will pleasantly be surprised by it again. The perks of having a bad memory), I laughed for like .. 10 seconds continuously. That really says a lot since I seldom laugh wholeheartedly at written things, and this book kept getting me time and time again, before it lost its lighter tone to adopt a more serious, realistic, darker one.
The main character, also the main focus of the novel, is kind of a change for your-typical-narrator-hero. Instead of linearly telling the story as it unfolds and making internal thoughtful reflections upon it, Holden was a full sack of resentment, apathy, jokes, judgement and lost potential. First of all he hated lots of people, practically everyone, which made him more of an antihero than a hero. His moral code is rather base and he can't find a motive strong enough to become a better person, although he could, maybe he wanted, too. He kept expecting from people he resented to make him feel better, but all he did is to eventually hate them as he also expected. And although he disdained people for being phony and pretentious, he himself couldn't help judging everyone else. The thing is he is actually a smart guy (which is a rare thing for me to say to describe a fictional characters, really), but it came clear at many instances how different of a guy he was. He couldn't fit in a world where people have more air in their head than in their lungs, and he repeatedly felt sorry for people who didn't know better. That's the guy Holden was.
Being smart in a world of dummies suck, but what sucks even more is being self-conscious beyond the healthy limit, and beautifully so. So when your-typical-first-person-narrator goes on rave the snow falling in the beautifully dim light of the midnight, Holden tells you about the ball of snow he had packed from the snow stacking on his window and kept it until getting on a bus and told by the bus driver to through it away. This freakishly genius attention to weird details made me stop at some lines and just wonder how the author had the inspiration to write them. Some of them felt too vivid to be inspired by real life yet too realistic to be made up in someone's mind. Either ways, I think that the biggest chunk of this novel's beauty lies in the exotic attention to trivial-details-made-important, all from the hand-holding memory to the color of the kid siblings' hair (take hint : the color of the hat is red too).
His self-consciousness, translated by his constant observation of people's behavior around him and the continuous speculation on their motivations was one of the things I definitely related to while reading and made easy to sympathize with the character in his desperate quest to find a person that can listen to him and actually understands him with no further motive. And that's not an easy thing for a overly-(self-)conscious person to do. Take my word for it.
The novel hormonally travels through many of Caulfield's caprices and states of mind : Hatred of the world, self-hatred, wanting to freeze time and stop people from growing up, the need to be listened to, feeling stuck between pre-maturity and a longing to innocence, the void created by the departed ones, summer time with Jane beside a checker board. The complexity of the character is just fascinating.
He's just a colorful soup of warmth and sourness, of morbid beauty. It's that good.
I couldn't find any negative sides to point out about the novel, except maybe the vague ending that didn't lift the protagonist nor did it seem to do so. As open as it can be to interpretation and because I'm a lazy reader who loves things to be wrapped-up at the end of the book, I found that slightly underwhelming, but not nearly enough to foul the beauty of the novel. Come to think of it, I think it was quite THE end to this story that doesn't really need an ending as much as it needs an interpretation.
All in all, the Catcher in the Rye is about a guy who didn't want to yield to society rules that made everyone become shallow and phony, who kept looking for someone to understand him and to appreciate him beyond matter, to spiritually connect to him. All he got in exchange was a long list of jerky male acquaintances, a longer list of barely human female acquaintances, intellectuals who either have too little time listening to him or have ulterior motives to do so, and finally, a 10 years old sister to remind him of everything good in this world. No wonder he wanted to be the Catcher in the Rye.
Favorite character :
Holden Caulfield. Of course.
Not only because the inconspicuously smart guy he is, but also because he's vulnerable, insecure, real. Wittiness aside, you can see the suffering this gift of mind brought to the hero, as with his "more developed" mind, he could see more through people's fake happiness and fake smiles and fake lives. You'd wonder how would it be like if Holden was just one of them, a rich bastard who didn't care about being emotionally relevant, but that's exactly the point. He isn't. He goddam isn't. Although mostly apathetic and judgmental, we get to see every once in a while some figures of hope throughout the novel rising to ditch him out of the black hole of sadness and sadism and self-loathing.
Although the "That depresses me" appeared a hundred times more frequently than the "I was damn happy", we can get a morale out of the story : in spite of everything, he lived to tell it. That's how great of a character Holden is.
Favorite passages :
Most of my favorite (and hilarious) passages were stuck inside long contexts so you should read the novel to figure them out yourself :p
"I'm crazy. I swear to God I am." (x3415 times)
"I'm quite illiterate, but I read a lot."
"What really knocks me out is a book that, when you're all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it. That doesn't happen much, though."
I didn't know what to expect from the novel when I started it. The primary indicators (the cover and the mysterious title) weren't too much of a cue, so all I knew was that it's a classic, so it must be good.
Well judging by the rating I gave it, it was more than just "good". I reached the level of excellency for me in many aspects that are so hard to enumerate and harder to verbalize, you just feel them as you read, that's how you know that something is precious.
The first thing I noticed about the novel is the pace of the narration. It didn't start slowly, it didn't decelerate. And since I read it in one take, it really felt like it's actually narrated by the protagonist, like, to me, like, face to face. The pace is so natural and quite speedy it drove all your attention to the story-telling aspect of the novel. Unlike many other novels that are written in the first-person perspective, this one really feels like it's narrated in real time by the narrator rather than him telling it in episodes or chronicles. It was almost like a stream of consciousness, where there is hardly any rigid transition between one idea and the other. With a light tone, the story is carried on by the narrator at an extraordinary ease. And for a story that is majorly built around the experience of the character, this feeling of reality and time really helps to understand, if not to connect with, the character in question in dimensions exceeded the usual psychological and behavioral analysis of it.
Once you'll get used to the pace/casual style of the narration, the next thing that will strike you is the repetitive use of some expressions/words by the author/narrator which gave him kind of a signature, a trait that none of the other characters you've previously known have. The extensive use of 2nd degree profanity (Damn, Hell, Bastard ..) is a unique aspect of the writing style. As of speaking in statistics, the novel is made of 53% of "Hell", 63% "That killed me", 74% "phony" and 88% "goddam" (naturally as of any statistics, they don't add up to 100% and I don't care). Frankly, it's THAT repetitive. And not negatively repetitive as you might have thought, actually quite the opposite. After the few first pages, you'll start thinking of the character as one of those people who use a certain linguistic mold recurrently, and after you'll get used to it, you'll start loving it. The character isn't a bad vulgar guy with no manners, he's an anguished person, and that's all about it.
Then comes one of the main reasons for my 9/10 : Sarcasm. It's one of those things that can't be affected and forced, and dang Salinger knows what he's doing. I wasn't expecting it at all from a book that is considered classic. I don't know why but I always thought of classics as those books that are serious and wise and soberly written, and little did I know that the Catcher in the Rye was a LOL book. I mean literally, I laughed out loud many times, and at some point (that I forgot now, which is good since I do plan to reread the book and I will pleasantly be surprised by it again. The perks of having a bad memory), I laughed for like .. 10 seconds continuously. That really says a lot since I seldom laugh wholeheartedly at written things, and this book kept getting me time and time again, before it lost its lighter tone to adopt a more serious, realistic, darker one.
The main character, also the main focus of the novel, is kind of a change for your-typical-narrator-hero. Instead of linearly telling the story as it unfolds and making internal thoughtful reflections upon it, Holden was a full sack of resentment, apathy, jokes, judgement and lost potential. First of all he hated lots of people, practically everyone, which made him more of an antihero than a hero. His moral code is rather base and he can't find a motive strong enough to become a better person, although he could, maybe he wanted, too. He kept expecting from people he resented to make him feel better, but all he did is to eventually hate them as he also expected. And although he disdained people for being phony and pretentious, he himself couldn't help judging everyone else. The thing is he is actually a smart guy (which is a rare thing for me to say to describe a fictional characters, really), but it came clear at many instances how different of a guy he was. He couldn't fit in a world where people have more air in their head than in their lungs, and he repeatedly felt sorry for people who didn't know better. That's the guy Holden was.
Being smart in a world of dummies suck, but what sucks even more is being self-conscious beyond the healthy limit, and beautifully so. So when your-typical-first-person-narrator goes on rave the snow falling in the beautifully dim light of the midnight, Holden tells you about the ball of snow he had packed from the snow stacking on his window and kept it until getting on a bus and told by the bus driver to through it away. This freakishly genius attention to weird details made me stop at some lines and just wonder how the author had the inspiration to write them. Some of them felt too vivid to be inspired by real life yet too realistic to be made up in someone's mind. Either ways, I think that the biggest chunk of this novel's beauty lies in the exotic attention to trivial-details-made-important, all from the hand-holding memory to the color of the kid siblings' hair (take hint : the color of the hat is red too).
His self-consciousness, translated by his constant observation of people's behavior around him and the continuous speculation on their motivations was one of the things I definitely related to while reading and made easy to sympathize with the character in his desperate quest to find a person that can listen to him and actually understands him with no further motive. And that's not an easy thing for a overly-(self-)conscious person to do. Take my word for it.
The novel hormonally travels through many of Caulfield's caprices and states of mind : Hatred of the world, self-hatred, wanting to freeze time and stop people from growing up, the need to be listened to, feeling stuck between pre-maturity and a longing to innocence, the void created by the departed ones, summer time with Jane beside a checker board. The complexity of the character is just fascinating.
He's just a colorful soup of warmth and sourness, of morbid beauty. It's that good.
I couldn't find any negative sides to point out about the novel, except maybe the vague ending that didn't lift the protagonist nor did it seem to do so. As open as it can be to interpretation and because I'm a lazy reader who loves things to be wrapped-up at the end of the book, I found that slightly underwhelming, but not nearly enough to foul the beauty of the novel. Come to think of it, I think it was quite THE end to this story that doesn't really need an ending as much as it needs an interpretation.
All in all, the Catcher in the Rye is about a guy who didn't want to yield to society rules that made everyone become shallow and phony, who kept looking for someone to understand him and to appreciate him beyond matter, to spiritually connect to him. All he got in exchange was a long list of jerky male acquaintances, a longer list of barely human female acquaintances, intellectuals who either have too little time listening to him or have ulterior motives to do so, and finally, a 10 years old sister to remind him of everything good in this world. No wonder he wanted to be the Catcher in the Rye.
Favorite character :
Holden Caulfield. Of course.
Not only because the inconspicuously smart guy he is, but also because he's vulnerable, insecure, real. Wittiness aside, you can see the suffering this gift of mind brought to the hero, as with his "more developed" mind, he could see more through people's fake happiness and fake smiles and fake lives. You'd wonder how would it be like if Holden was just one of them, a rich bastard who didn't care about being emotionally relevant, but that's exactly the point. He isn't. He goddam isn't. Although mostly apathetic and judgmental, we get to see every once in a while some figures of hope throughout the novel rising to ditch him out of the black hole of sadness and sadism and self-loathing.
Although the "That depresses me" appeared a hundred times more frequently than the "I was damn happy", we can get a morale out of the story : in spite of everything, he lived to tell it. That's how great of a character Holden is.
Favorite passages :
Most of my favorite (and hilarious) passages were stuck inside long contexts so you should read the novel to figure them out yourself :p
"I'm crazy. I swear to God I am." (x3415 times)
"I'm quite illiterate, but I read a lot."
"What really knocks me out is a book that, when you're all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it. That doesn't happen much, though."
"- No reason. Boy, I can't stand that sonuvabitch. He's one sonuvabitch I really can't stand."
- He's crazy about you. He told me he thinks you're a goddam prince."
"I'm the goddarn Governor's son," I said. I was knocking myself out. Tap-dancing all over the place. "He doesn't want me to be a tap dancer. He wants me to go to Oxford. But it's in my goddam blood, tap-dancing."
"Sensitive. That killed me. That guy Morrow was about as sensitive as a goddam toilet seat."
"I tried to get them in a little intelligent conversation, but it was practically impossible... You could hardly tell which was the stupidest of the three of them."
"- How much is it, for God's sake?
- Eight dollars and eighty-five cents. Sixty-five cents. I spent some.
Then, all of a sudden, I started to cry. I couldn't help it. I did it so nobody could hear me, but I did it."
" It was the first time she ever told me to shut up. It sounded terrible. God, it sounded terrible. It sounded worse than swearing."
"I tried to get them in a little intelligent conversation, but it was practically impossible... You could hardly tell which was the stupidest of the three of them."
"- How much is it, for God's sake?
- Eight dollars and eighty-five cents. Sixty-five cents. I spent some.
Then, all of a sudden, I started to cry. I couldn't help it. I did it so nobody could hear me, but I did it."
" It was the first time she ever told me to shut up. It sounded terrible. God, it sounded terrible. It sounded worse than swearing."