The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger

Summary:

It's Christmas time and Holden Caulfield has just been expelled from yet another school...

Fleeing the crooks at Pencey Prep, he pinballs around New York City seeking solace in fleeting encounters—shooting the bull with strangers in dive hotels, wandering alone round Central Park, getting beaten up by pimps and cut down by erstwhile girlfriends. The city is beautiful and terrible, in all its neon loneliness and seedy glamour, its mingled sense of possibility and emptiness. Holden passes through it like a ghost, thinking always of his kid sister Phoebe, the only person who really understands him, and his determination to escape the phonies and find a life of true meaning.

About the Author:

Jerome David Salinger (1919 - 2010) was an American author who grew up in New York. He published mainly short stories, and fought in the Second World War. Recurring themes in his writing include coming-of-age, the disconnect between teenagers and adults, the phoniness of the world and a dislike of Hollywood. The Catcher in the Rye was published in 1951.

Rating:

2 stars - ★★☆☆☆

Review:

I was so excited to read The Catcher in the Rye. It’s been on my  list because it’s a banned book. And I found it in a second hand bookshop and thought the cover was gorgeous. So I had really high hopes. However this was so close to being a DNF. The only reason I gave it more than one star was because there were a couple of parts that made me snigger due to the descriptions (maybe with how bad they were, but I laughed all the same). It was close to being a DNF because it was so boring and miserable. The story (or lack of) was boring, Holden was miserable and boring, the other characters were boring. I just wanted to slap Holden and find out what his problem was. He hates everyone and everything but keeps spending time with people he hates. He’s like, I’m going to call this person up to hang out but I don’t really like them, they’re a phoney, but I’m going to tell them I love them just because I feel like it. I just spent the whole time being confused. 

The writing was also so repetitive. The same vocabulary and turns of phrase over and over again. I know it’s a ‘constant stream of consciousness’, and maybe our brains are like that, but I don’t want to read that. I spend enough time in my own annoying, repetitive brain!

I also just didn’t buy the mental breakdown aspect. It didn’t feel like he was close to a mental breakdown, he just seemed like a petulant teenager who needs a reality check.

I read reviews saying that The Catcher in the Rye particularly speaks to you when you’re a teenager, so maybe I’m just a bit old to be reading this, but I still don’t think I would have enjoyed it as a teenager. Having now read a bit more about J D Salinger himself, The Catcher in the Rye does seem to have some autobiographical elements. It feels like the author is trying to make sense of his own feelings as a teenager. But this is why we have diaries, and they probably shouldn’t be published because they’re incredibly boring. We all feel like we’re the first ones to feel this way as a teenager but we’re not. 

I can’t even stretch this review out. It wasn’t good, I didn’t enjoy it but I did save a couple of quotes. One because it demonstrates in one sentence how ridiculous the whole thing is, and one because it was strangely romantic. In a book full of phoneys, there was one redeeming paragraph.

Maybe give this a try if you're a disillusioned teenager who feels like they're surrounded by phoneys. Otherwise you're not missing anything.

Quotes:

Alfred Lunt and Lynne Fontanne were the old couple, and they were very good, but I didn’t like them much. They were different, though, I’ll say that.

Nobody’d be different. The only thing that would be different would be you. Not that you’d be so much older or anything. It wouldn’t be like that, exactly. You’d just be different, that’s all. You’d have an overcoat on this time. Or the kid that was your partner in line the last time had got scarlet fever and you’d have a new partner. Or you’d have a substitute taking the class, instead of Miss Aigletinger. Or you’d heard your mother and father having a terrific fight in the bathroom. Or you’d just passed by one of those puddles in the street with gasoline rainbows in them. I mean you’d be different in some way - I can’t explain what I mean. And even if I could, I’m not sure I’d feel like it.