I initially bought this book because (luck of all luck!) I'd heard good things about it and I happened to be at a bookstore, and it happened to be on sale. One of the joys of my life is when bookstores have sales. And it was sort of a cult classic, particularly around Princeton, as most things that feature it in some way, shape, or form, often are.
So I was reading it, and, after devouring Catcher in the Rye in, like, I don't know, 9th grade or so, I was eagerly awaiting the moment when Salinger would sweep my off my feet and carrying me away to literary la-la-land.
I'd be lying if I told you that I "got" this book. I didn't. I'm not sure anyone would really "get" it. I can appreciate his whole shtick re: enlightenment and zen buddhism and whatnot, but, while I found the characters delightfully real, and, as is typical of JD, blissfully intelligent, I also found them cold and only half-formed in the context of the story.
What I mean to say isn't that they're not full fleshed out; on the contrary, they're seriously fleshy. Fat, even. They've got so much emotional baggage that a Boeing jet would have trouble. But that's precisely the problem for me, here, in this case. We get only a tiny glimmer of the two title characters from their own eyes. We see them from the perspectives of everyone else, even though the story is technically told in third person omniscient. It's just a little frustrating because I found myself reading and reading and waiting for the "AHA" moment that never comes. Another fantastic example of literary blueballing. Oh. Dear.
I guess, ultimately, I'd have to chalk this up to an exersize more than a finished work because it seems just like a very long slice of life rather than a complete narrative. And I really did try to understand this. I'm the first one to admit when I've missed something in literature. But even wikipedia gave me nothing I didn't already know from reading it. So I'm left wondering what exactly the point was. Maybe it's supposed to give me more context for examining the Glass children who apparently appear in more Salinger texts. Or maybe it's Salinger ultimately making fun of the reader for salivating over a relatively long story in which not very much happens.
I like Franny's part for more than Zooey's, mostly because within Zooey's I felt as though I was slipping into the realm of Zooey's insanity, a place I'd really rather not enter.
Ultimately, I enjoyed the vocabulary lesson (JD's always fantastic with words. I learned, in particular, the meaning of the words rancor and obstreporous :)) but found the plot difficult to swallow, and had an even harder time wondering why I should care about the characters, who seem sort of full of themselves, in the first place.
Although, I must concede that if I feel this strongly about a work I don't feel I even understood properly, I can only imagine the way I'd feel if I loved it. Good job, JD.
FINAL VERDICT:
** out of *****
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