Thursday, January 28, 2010

holden caufield

I've lost count of how many times I've read The Catcher in the Rye over the years. It was my go-to book when I was younger (high school and college), and remains one of the only paperbacks I keep, tattered, on the shelf.

It was effortless for me to lose myself in rebellious Holden's lonely, yet adventurous world. And during those chaotic times of adolescence when I needed most to escape, Catcher provided me that haven. It was my first escape book.

I just read that J.D. Salinger passed away yesterday. After feeling some loss, as well as nostalgia for years gone by, the first thing I wanted to do was to write about my time with my favorite book for many years, and the author who wrote it.

The man was a recluse. The man was brilliant. He was odd. He was one-of-a-kind.

During my junior year in high school, we were able to choose our own author study. I [of course] chose J.D. Salinger. During a time long before, I vividly remember my dad driving me down to an independent bookstore in the Village in Houston just so I could find a copy of Franny and Zooey, Salinger's third book.

What a tremendous American author, and forever, one of my favorites.

What really knocks me out is a book, when you're all done reading it, you
wished the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could
call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it. --Holden Caufield, Chapter 3, The Catcher in the Rye

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