Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters

This past week the literary world lost someone great.  I wasn't going to write about it-- mainly because the entire literary and teenage world undoubtedly jumped on that boat and sailed the moment this great man's pulse stopped.  This, of course, probably makes me as much of a "phoney" as the rest-- and yet, I'm not so sure.

I am, of course, talking about JD Salinger.  Now, he has been a big part of my life.  He still is.  And it's not because of Holden Caulfield.  Not that I don't respect the Catcher and all-- but Holden was never the one who held my interest.  I understood Holden.  His angst, his bewilderment, his cynicism and his love.  However, it was (and will always be) the Glass Family that changed my world.

For all my readings of Franny & Zooey, Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters & Seymour an Introduction, and Nine Stories-- this, I can tell you-- I have never been more understood.  To be sure, I was (in my mind) for so many years a "Franny"-- someone capable of being a wonderful actress, dating someone who has no real understanding of me and my secret passions and beliefs, and then falling (daintily and with mud on my shoes) into an existential crisis.  I, too, often felt the pull between wanting everything and being a pilgrim.  I always felt I was a Franny who desperately wanted to be a Zooey.  To be as spiritually connected as well as intellectually brilliant, confident, and cocky. 

But, the truth of all of it is-- is that I am a Buddy.  I am a watcher.  I have a Seymour who's beautiful and lost that I watch out for.  I watch out for my strong Zooey, who is beautiful, clever, and appears to need no one.  I watch out for my Franny who lights up every stage and whose talent no one denies.  And I am a kindred spirit to my Mrs. Glass who knows everything about all her children, and deals with anything that comes her way.  Not that any one of those people mentioned need me.  But, every one needs something to care for.

Although tempted, I won't go on and on with quotes-- and truly, I could for days. 

I would tell you every bit that warms my existence.  The descriptions.  The clutter of the Glass apartment.  But I won't.  Because it's special to each individual.  I'm no phoney.  I know that.  Everyone will take a piece of Mr. Salinger with them.  And really, as long as it means something to each person, that's all one could ever ask for.

It may be presumptuous of me to liken myself to Mr. Salinger's Glass Family.  But, I take them to heart. 

I read in one of Mr. Salinger's obituaries that he was often found at weekly $12 church dinners.  And I love that.  Empty churches are my sanctuary.  Mr. Salinger's sanctuary is a church's kitchen.  I love that.

And in this world with so many different opinions of God and lack of God-- I must say, I like Mr. Salinger's view of God the best. 

And it's his books at night-- mixed with history books, and my books that span every sort of belief-- that keep me warm at night. 

Dear Mr. Salinger, you will be missed.

-Danny




"Seymour once said that all we do our whole lives is go from one little piece of Holy Ground to the next."

Seymour--An Introduction
J.D. Salinger