Comments on: The Clock at the Biltmore — J.D. Salinger: “A Perfect Day for Bananafish

By: Lee Monks

Lee Monks — Tue, 23 Feb 2010 15:24:28 +0000

Yeah, and it can be really surprising what can be gleaned from a revisit. Besides the fact that we can’t possibly remember everything about a piece of work, reading something again some years later can be quite odd, in that it can tend to prove the old maxim about a book reading you, not merely the other way round. Salinger is a pretty acute example, for me. Some works pall and some are rendered into something entirely different, often better. It’s a strange alchemic relationship between reader and writer, magical at times.

By: Trevor

Trevor — Tue, 23 Feb 2010 15:10:32 +0000

Glad you revisited it and that it paid off, Lee. I need to do that with several books and stories I’ve read in the past — wonder when I’ll get to it :).

By: Lee Monks

Lee Monks — Tue, 23 Feb 2010 10:13:44 +0000

I dug out my copy of ‘Nine Stories’ to read this and I thoroughly enjoyed it, far more than I did first time around. As you say, Trevor, ‘Much comes by alluding to something else’, and the way that is handled is quite brilliant. Although you can see the join and the artifice it’s so superbly crafted you don’t care.

“Who drove?”

“He did,” said the girl. “And don’t get excited. He drove very nicely. I was amazed.”

“He drove? Muriel, you gave me your word of — “

“Mother,” the girl interrupted, “I just told you. He drove very nicely. Under fifty the whole way, as a matter of fact.”

“Did he try any of that funny business with the trees?”

An enormous amount is done here and alluded to, there’s a clever compression of information and a continual sense of curiosity is maintained over such a short piece.

As ever, there are people on the same wavelength that regularly tune out of each other and there seems to be a pricklish sense of precious self-preservation borne out of fear running through most Salinger. Peculiar behavioural manifestations that emerge due to an inability to connect or self-examine. Fantasy and fabrication as a diversion from an intolerable normality. To create such a fully-fledged world from such economical means demands respect. And it’s great fun.

By: Ronak M Soni

Ronak M Soni — Mon, 08 Feb 2010 08:05:16 +0000

Thanks, Kevin. That really helped.

All three stories that I read yesterday are starting to make deeper sense to me now, now that I’ve slept over it. I think I’m going to proceed more slowly from now on.

By: Nicola

Nicola — Sun, 07 Feb 2010 21:40:56 +0000

I need to read more Salinger. Thought I’d start with a re-read of Catcher which I loved as a teenager and see how it reads now, and then move on to the stories. I like that extract and your analysis of it.

By: KevinfromCanada

KevinfromCanada — Sun, 07 Feb 2010 19:05:20 +0000

Ronak: I think the “feet” preoccupation is just an indication of Seymour’s inability to make direct contact with other people, even a five-year-old (looking at the trees while driving is another aspect of it). Salinger develops the characteristic further in the Seymour sections of Franny and Zooey and, even more so, both novellas in Carpenter. It isn’t so much that Seymour avoids other people — he just likes to be “abstracted” from them, which Salinger ties back to his performances on It’s a Wise Child where, it being a radio show, both the communication and contact was obviously one-way.

By: Ronak M Soni

Ronak M Soni — Sun, 07 Feb 2010 17:21:40 +0000

Rilke! I knew I knew the poet being referred to.

In other news, I just bought the volume and read the story today. :P

Why do you think there’s that preoccupation with the feet here? First Seymour kisses Sybil’s foot, then there’s the incident in the lift where he asks that woman whether she’s looking at his feet. Somehow I felt that this had something to do with the end. Or am I just being paranoid?

By: Wilson Knut

Wilson Knut — Sat, 06 Feb 2010 15:04:07 +0000

I held a subscription to The New Yorker for several years, but I just had too much I wanted to read and unread issues started piling up. I think your plan sounds great though. I recently re-subscribed to Tin House, another great literary magazine I gave up, and hope to discuss pieces of each issue at my site. I too need to revisit Nine Stories and Franny and Zooey. I have not read them since college many years ago, and I'm sure I would have a new appreciation.