“If you truly want to understand
me,” I said to my long-term girlfriend one day, “you must read ‘The Catcher In the Rye’”.
She stared at me blankly. We had
been together for about five years by then, so a peek into my tortured soul
probably wasn’t a particularly effective incentive. Then again, in my defense,
Salinger’s masterpiece does not really need one.
A story without a plot, the novel
follows the iconic Holden Caulfield over four days as he travels around New
York after being expelled from his boarding school. In four days, his holidays
begin, and going home before that would mean telling his parents why he is
home. So he whiles away time in various places across New York, and we travel
with him, watching films, meeting people, going to bars and generally watching
life. And by the time the novel reaches its conclusion, we realise that we have
grown up in many ways – even though Holden may not have.
Essentially a rites-of-passage
novel, ‘The Catcher In The Rye’
virtually defines the phrase ‘bildungsroman’ in modern literature – and with
good reason. Observing a boy trying desperately to grapple with the
complexities of life, while constantly letting his frustrations out on the
people around him, we see ourselves in every one of his dilemmas. The genius of the novel lies in creating a
completely irreverent yet not totally unsympathetic character as its
protagonist and narrator. He is not a bad person – he believes in charity, loves
his family – but is rebellious, insolent, extremely judgmental and believes
himself to be above almost everyone around him. So while we see him go through
many a life lesson, his sheer refusal to learn them, along with a strict
contempt for pretty much anyone around him, simultaneously creates a distance
which avoids uncomfortable sentimentality while actually underlining the growth
even more acutely. Salinger does not need to explain the morals of the story –
Holden’s scorn for it, while lampooning them, ironically highlights them also.
In the process, although he may not have really matured, we witness a much
better, un-manipulative and thought-provoking story than can be expected from
this genre.
The novel is peppered with
incidents that illustrate this complex, confused character, without having
anyone explain him to us. We see him urge a prostitute to have a conversation
with him before the night progresses; we see him feel sympathy for nuns; we see
him watch ducks blissfully with his sister; and gradually we begin to recognize
this confused boy, raging a war against the world, as a former shadow of
ourselves.
Teenage years are a particularly
difficult time in everybody’s life. While we don’t actually have more problems
at that time, we seem to think we do. Every high is higher, every low is lower.
Our gross misjudgment of our problems comes partly from our incomprehension of
their long-term magnitude and partly from our frustrating inability to
articulate them in such a manner that they can be resolved. This is apparent in
every one of Holden’s quirks: he hates most of the people around him, but he
cannot explain why. He gets irritated and restless at a party, but is at a loss
of words when asked for a reason. He hates hypocrites (‘phonies’, as he calls
them) but does not really understand the term.
Salinger’s brilliance is that by
having such a narrator, he does not need to – and honestly, cannot – explain
these feelings. And yet, somehow, we know. We understand. We shake our heads,
smiling ruefully, recognizing our younger selves in Holden’s desperate rants
and confusions. We relate to his idiosyncrasies, because we have also had them.
And we know that one day he will leave all this behind, and grow up to become a
more sorted, balanced individual. We don’t know when – it may not happen by the
novel’s end, or by the end of the year, or maybe even in the next ten years.
But we know that he will one day, eventually, grow up.
We know that because we did.
I had the privilege of reading
this fine work of art when I was a teenager, and, over fifty years after it was
written, I felt this novel was written just for me: it spoke in my language, it
voiced my feelings, it gave shape to my teenage angst in a manner I could not.
Ultimately, it helped me understand and control my inner Holden, and become a
more mature and sensitive person.
And for that, Mr Salinger, my
girlfriend will forever be grateful.
