Thursday, January 28, 2010

Salinger is dead.

On top of the expected emotions of sadness and acceptance (he was 91, after all), I feel relieved.

In high school, it occurred to me that some day he would die and that when he did "Catcher in the Rye" in a way would no longer be his and someone would make a movie out of it. In my teenage purist fashion, I thought a movie version of this book would be sacrilegious. A) Holden hates the movies and B) Nothing is phonier than Hollywood. I still feel this way but the relief comes from realizing I'm not worried or fearful about a movie translation anymore. I've grown up. They make movies out of the books I love. I don't have to see them. It doesn't destroy the book.

I fell in love with "Catcher" when I was thirteen. I remember coming into English class the day after we started the book. We were only supposed to have read the early chapters but I was so enamored I was quite far into it; my main concern that day was discussing the book without giving anything away, not wanting to ruin it for my classmates. Before I'd even put my book bag down, a girl asked me to give her a rundown on what we were supposed to have read. I was shocked. In her hands, she held a book that was changing my life. I gave her a summary. As the class began, it seemed no one was as affected as I was so I took it as a sign that me and Holden had a special relationship. Only I understood him, only I understood this book.

The brilliance, of course, of this book is that everyone feels this way, who fall in love with it. Later I would meet people who were similarly moved; it stopped surprising me by around college.

Holden, you will always hold a place in my heart. Whoever Salinger was as a person, whatever they do to your character on the screen.