I think there is something to the criticism that you have to be a teenager or at least in close proximity to your teenage years to relate to and enjoy The Catcher in the Rye. I was mostly bored throughout the book, trying to finish it as soon as possible so I could move on to something else. It was short, which made it easier. And I wasn’t charmed by the constant repetition of “I mean,“ “g-dam,” and “That killed me.” While I’m sure it’s realistic of a teenager’s speech patterns in that era (and Holden was writing as he would talk), it was still often annoying.
I think if I read this in high school, I might have really enjoyed it and thought it was the most relatable book ever written. Our Holden Caulfield is depressed, but it’s a specific brand of depression that speaks of teenage angst and coming of age existential crisis, coupled with seriously traumatic events for anyone, but especially for someone his age. He’s afraid of growing up in a world that reeks of phony. When asked what he really wants to do with his life, he replies that he wants to catch children before they fall off a cliff, which symbolizes adulthood and wanting to preserve the innocence of childhood. He wants to be the catcher in the rye. He had a bit of a protective streak over kids. The most compelling parts of the novel were when he talked about his younger siblings, Allie and Phoebe.
But I think what surprised me most was that I did really like Holden. I thought he was a great guy, which apparently isn’t quite the average conclusion. He was principled, kind, outwardly respectful. My ignorant impression of this book was always that the protagonist was an unlikeable teenager and a bit of an a-hole. But that really wasn’t entirely the case. He would give the time of day to people that most of his peers wouldn’t, he objected to the thought that his roommate had taken liberties with a girl he was fond of, he would respectfully listen to his teachers even if he lied a bit later as an excuse to get away, he would always try to engage his taxi drivers in conversation, he was incredibly gentle in his own way with his younger sister Phoebe, he let someone he barely knew borrow his sweater, and he tried to wipe off curse-filled graffiti so little kids wouldn’t see it. He was broken and dealing with trauma, and he made really poor decisions and had a nasty habit of posturing and constantly judging others, but the root of him was good. What does it say about me that I don’t think of Holden as a douche at all when apparently that’s the general impression most people gain from this? Perhaps it’s because I’m reading it as an adult looking down with empathy on an adolescent. Regardless, he felt very real to me. Salinger did his character justice.
I feel like reading this book as a teenager—all who are caught between the dichotomy of the isolation of self-entitlement and the pain of self-degradation—is a rite of passage…one I failed to indulge in. I’m glad I read it, and apparently you have to read it at different points in your life to see how it speaks to you so maybe I’ll try it again some other time.
