این ریویو به مناسب سومین باری که این کتاب را از قفسه انتخاب می‌کنم، مشغول خواندن‌اش می‌شوم و بعد از بستن‌اش احساس می‌کنم هیچ کتاب بهتری را نمی‌توانستم انتخاب کنم. تصویر تکه‌تکه و مخدوش سیمور که در این کتاب و از نگاه بهترین راوی خانواده‌ی گلس یعنی بادی، کامل می‌شود، یکی از بهترین کارهای سلینجر است. البته من کمی برایم سخت است که فکر کنم این کتاب را سلینجر نوشته. خیلی به بادی جان بخشیده‌ام و گاهی حتی وقتی کتاب را می‌بندم از اینکه روی جلد کتاب اسم بادی نیامده تعجب می‌کنم. برای چند لحظه. بعد یادم می‌آید شت، همه‌ی این‌ها مخلوق سلینجر هستند و یک حالی می‌شوم. به قول هولدن کافیلد (مخلوق دیگری از همین آقای سلینجر) این کتاب از آن کتاب‌هایی است که وقتی تمام می‌شود، دوست داری گوشی را برداری، به نویسنده‌اش زنگ بزنی و بگویی یک سر بیاید خانه‌ات تا باهم اختلاط کنید.

Αγαπώ τον Σάλιντζερ. Το ξέρετε γιατί το έχω γράψει τόσες φορές πια που πρέπει να σας έχω κουράσει. Στο τελευταίο του λοιπόν βιβλίο νιώθω οτι πλησίασε πραγματικά την τελειότητα (και ύστερα αποσύρθηκε). Και οι δύο νουβέλες αφορούν τον μεγάλο αδερφό της οικογένειας Γκλάς, τον Σέυμουρ (και υπόγεια, σχεδόν μυστικά αποκαλύπτουν πράγματα και για τον Μπάντυ). Στην πρώτη νουβέλα ο Σέυμουρ είναι απών στον ίδιο του το γάμο και χάρη στο μπέρδεμα που προκαλείται τέσσερα άτομα θα βρεθούν, μαζί και ο Μπάντυ να συζητούν και να προσπαθούν να καταλάβουν τι πήγε στραβά. Μονο που ο Μπάντυ δεν συζητά, παρατηρεί μονο γιατί ξέρει οτι κανείς δεν πρόκειται να καταλάβει τον αδερφό του.Υπεκφεύγει, κρύβεται και νιώθει οικειότητα με τον τέταρτο της παρέας ενα χαρούμενο κωφάλαλο γεράκο. Ισώς γιατί εκείνος δεν πρόκειται να κατακρίνει ή να σχολιάσει το παραμικρό για τον αδερφό του. Το οτι επιλέγει ένα κωφάλαλο δεν είναι τυχαίο. Ίσως με προφανή τρόπο ο Σάλιντζερ αναδεικνύει για άλλη μια φορά τις προβληματικές σχέσεις και την απώλεια ουσιαστικής επικοινωνίας.

Το πρόβλημα εντείνεται στην δεύτερη νουβέλα συνειδησιακής ροής όπου όλα μοιάζουν αυθόρμητα και γνήσια και την ίδια στιγμή τοσο προσεκτικά τοποθετημένα. Ο Μπάντυ προσπαθεί να φτιάξει, να περιγράψει το πορτραίτο του αποθανόντος αδερφού του μα οι λέξεις μοιάζουν λίγες. Την ίδια στιγμή μαθαίνουμε πράγματα και γι τον ιδιο καθώς βλέπουμε τα πράγματα απο μια συγκριτική σκοπιά. Και παρόλο που προσπαθεί να ξεφύγει απο αυτό, ο ιδιος ο αδερφός του σε ένα παλιό γράμμα του λέει οτι η ατομικότητα του καθενός αρχίζει εκεί που ξεκινάει ο στενός σύνδεσμός που έχουν μεταξύ τους. Είναι τοσο γλυκό και τρυφερό να βλέπεις τον Μπάντυ να προσπαθεί να περιγράψει τον αγαπημένο του αδερφό που τοσο θαύμαζε. Άλλες φορές γίνεται γλυκόπικρο, γεμάτο χιούμορ και ειρωνεία απέναντι στα πάντα (κυρίως τους λογοτεχνικούς κύκλους, την ψυχανάλυση, την φιλοσοφία του Ζεν κλπ.). Η αναρχία που επικρατεί στο μυαλό και στην ψυχή του Μπάντυ είναι πολύ πιο αποκαλύπτικη απο ίσως ένα εθύγραμμο πορτραίτο γεμάτο τάξη. Γιατί θα έμοιαζε φτιαχτό και οχι γνήσιο και ειλικρινές. Και με αυτό που μένουμε είναι με αποσπασματικά μικρά θαύματα που αφορούν τη ζωή τους. Στον πυρήνα των παιδιών θαυμάτων δεν υπάρχουν βιβλία, μελέτες, ταλέντα ή οτι άλλο αλλα η ιδιαίτερη σχέση και η αγάπη που τους δένει. Είναι ίσως η πολυτιμότερη ιστορία για την αδερφική αγάπη και συντροφικότητα (πνευματική ή οτι άλλο) έχω διαβάσει.

هفته ی پیش، سر میز شام ازم پرسید بعد از بیرون آمدن از ارتش میخواهم چه کار کنم؟ میخواهم باز در همان دانشکده تدریس کنم؟ اصلا" میخواهم باز تدریس کنم یا نه، میخواهم برگردم رادیو و کارِ یک جور "مفسر" را بکنم؟
من هم جواب دادم به نظرم میرسد جنگ هیچ وقت تمام نمی شود، اما اگر دوباره صلح شود مطمئنا" دوست دارم گربه ی مرده ای باشم ..

... برای موریل گفتم که در حکایان ذن آمده است که یک بار از استادی پرسیدند ارزشمندترین چیز در دنیا چیست، و استاد پاسخ داد گربه ی مرده، چون هیچ کس نمی تواند روی آن قیمت بگذارد !

I can never Really tell what makes a book, or an author, an immortal classic. I thought I did for a while but I clearly don't. I do know however, luckily enough, if I like a book, and almost always, why.
I read salinger's Franny and Zooey when I was 16 and was so, so compelled and only understood a mere estimated 35% of the reason why I loved it so much. I thought I loved it because it dealt with the struggles with the terrible ego associated with making art, and that was a very huge reason, but really it was a very small amount of it.
human beings are so complicated -and consequently, have a very hight survival rate as a species- because there are so many incredible apparent and very unapparent reasons as to why they are who they are and why they behave as such, nature and nurture and coincidence, luck, eating habits, everything really. and when two very huge influences overlap, such as say: a reclusive disposition and a simultaneous huge desire to love your fellow man, they can very much take over a person's outlook on life. and if that person were to honestly, and passionately, write about his or her huge overlapping influences, he or she could possible make an immortal classic, or, more certainly, a book I would like.
the specific very strong bonds that the glass family seems to have with each other, combined with what generally seemed to me as an underlining hatred towards most of your, well adjusted, job and wife having, average joe, was very very relatable, as I am sure it is to most of everybody, maybe even especially the well adjusted, job and wife having, average joe.
but this specific book was different from Franny and Zooey and a perfect day for bananafish, especially Seymour: an introduction.
for one thing, buddy glass seems to admire his brother in a pretty unhealthy way, you start to think that maybe his brother really was so fantastically brilliant, till you realize that most of his high praise is not praise at all but a personal admiration for only above average qualities, but not very brilliant ones.
and so you start to realize, and this becomes especially easy if you know what it's like first hand, that his admiration is a byproduct of having an older brother (already a very high rank) who happens to also be your best friend, and a thing of beauty. certain words get so tired, this book was very 'human' very 'personal', god even tired is way too weak a word.
buddy- salinger- who ever wrote this, wrote what he very badly wanted to write which naturally was not what most people want to read, he kept commenting on his own work, like through the process of reading you could see him in the process of writing, I thought that made him very likable )and he is not very likable, which made me like him?)
the whole glass family is influenced by the teachings of Buddhism and asian philosophy, and they strangely incorporate it into the lifestyle of 1920-50s new york.
buddy and seymour especially seem to be so very taken by Christ and Buddha. and I really think that on some level, buddy believes that seymour is their successor. but on a very, much less apparent level, much more quiet nature.
someone once told me that whenever I talk about a book it really seems like I havent read it. and maybe they're just assholes, or maybe I misinterpret everything. but most likely it is the nature of books to bend.
and salinger is always so beautifully honest I cant help but feel blessed that he let his ego take over a few times.
my favorite part of the whole book was when buddy talked about seymour's poetry that he wanted to publish, he described a few poems but did not want to actually write them down, he talked about a specific poem that I thought was very beautiful about a religious man who is on his deathbed and is surrounded by chanting priests and you get the feeling that he wished that they could be quiet so he could hear what the washing lady outside is saying about his neighbor's laundry.

Şöyle ilginç bir kitap bu: İlk hikaye, Yükseltin Tavan Kirişini Ustalar, baştan sona büyüleyici bir hikaye. Basit bir olaylar silsilesi nasıl böyle etkileyici anlatılır ve bir film izler gibi hisseder bir okur, resmen okullarda ders olarak okutulmalı. Öyle çok sevdim. İkinci hikaye, Seymour Bir Giriş ise bende tam tersi duygular uyandırdı. Organik, interaktif, ilginç bir hikaye olmasına rağmen fazla uzun olması ve gereksiz ayrıntılarla bezenmiş olduğundan dolayı -ki yazar bunu itiraf ediyor kendisi de metinde- sıkıldım, ilk hikayeden sonra okuması bir hayli zor geldi.

Yine de her şeye rağmen büyük ustasın Salinger, sevilen, beğenilen, özlenensin.

Reading 'Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters' & 'Seymour: An Introduction' for the first time strongly reminded me of my first encounter with Franny and Zooey. I liked the first stories in both collections, but felt that the latter stories tended towards the meandering and pointless. Having reread Franny and Zooey only recently and appreciating it much more, I have hope I'll feel at least a bit more favor for Seymour: An Introduction in the future but as it stands right now, I found it almost unbearable. It's clear that Salinger's love (obsession) for the Glass family had at this point in time not only taken over his writing, but that their existence almost blurs from the fictionalized to the real. These characters are not just characters, not in Salinger's view anyway and while fully-fledged characters that speak of life should make the stories stronger and more vivid - this did not at all translate to Seymour's Introduction. Rather, it appears partly autobiographical - Buddy is writing about his dead brother Seymour, but he isn't just writing about him; also about himself. He's a writer, has struggled with his writing in the past, has had his fair share of misses in the past - many of which appears inspired by Salinger's own life. The story is, as I say, narrated by Buddy but once in a while it feels like the veil is lowered and Salinger appears instead. Buddy is meant to do some kind of eulogy for Seymour but does this by wandering around the point for 60 pages. While it's occasionally funny, it's mostly unbearably dull - the one thing Seymour really isn't. Perhaps it's Buddy.

In 'Raise High the Roof Beam' on the other hand, we see both characters brought to life - but whereas Buddy is present (again, narrator, only this time he's more the eyes through which we see the story) the focus is on Seymour and in particular the day of his wedding. The story follows that one day; Seymour does not make it to the wedding, the guests make their way to the after-party and Buddy ends up in one of the limousine's with the bride's guests who're all rather underwhelmed by Seymour's actions and general person. The whole narration in the car is often both funny, sad and tense - but in general showcases all of Salinger's strength in writing interactions and dialogues, fleeting moments and shifts in character's lives even if these are hardly recognizable. Again, I think Raise High and Franny as stories capture Salinger's writing essence much better than do Zooey or Seymour: An Introduction, but I'm happy to have read all of his work at last.

actually, i’m mad again because i KNOW the salinger estate is (and has been) holding back stories from us for YEARS!

RELEASE THEM!

----------

“I have scars on my hand from touching certain people. Once, in the park, when Frannie was still in the carriage, I put my hand on the downy pate of her head and left it there too long. Another time, at Loew's Seventy-second Street, with Zooey during a spooky movie. He was about six or seven, and he went under the seat to avoid watching a scary scene. I put my hand on his head. Certain heads, certain colors and textures of human hair leave permanent marks on me. Other things, too. Charlotte once ran away from me, outside the studio, and I grabbed her dress to stop her, to keep her near me. A yellow cotton dress I loved because it was too long for her. I still have a lemon-yellow mark on the palm of my right hand.”



----------

i don't think you guys understand. i don't love salinger books a normal amount; i want to unzip my skin and place them in between my lungs.

----------

i feel like the only way someone will ever thoroughly understand me is if they binge-read all available JD Salinger stories/books in their young teens and made that their entire personality that they never recovered from.

Brilliant. I will read anything about the Glass family. The dialogue and satirical comedy made me laugh out loud on more than one occasion. I want to be immersed in this New York and in their family orbit. Salinger packs these stories with so much detail, and yet I always want to know more.

A lovely end to me Salinger binge.

I have now read all of his published works, which almost entirely follow the Glass family. Even The Catcher in the Rye is insinuated to have been written by Buddy, the writer and narrator of the family, and the teller of these two novellas.

Born to vaudeville performers, the Glass children were introduced to America as whiz kids onthe radio programme ‘It’s a Wise Child’; generations of Glass siblings owned the airwaves from the 1920s to the 50s. Salinger chronicles them at various stages of life through novellas and short stories; from precocious children to scholars, actors, writers, soldiers, a monk and the eldest: Seymour — the only ‘true poet’ of the family.

‘Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters’ follows the day of Seymour's wedding as Buddy, recently discharged from military hospital and the only Glass attending, attempts to make it to the ceremony with a ragtag group including the Matron of Honour and her lieutenant husband, aunt of the bride and a deaf-mute man whose physical appearance resembles the monopoly man. On a hot sticky day in New York, in a car with strangers who hurl insults at his family, Buddy’s displacement feels claustrophobic, his disconnection from his family unnerving. Particularly if you know what follows this story.

“Many, many men my age and in my income bracket who write about their dead brothers in enchanting semi-diary form never even bother to give us dates or tell us where they are. No sense of collaboration. I’ve vowed not to let that happen to me. This is Thursday, and I’m back in my horrible chair.”

‘Seymour: An Introduction’ is Buddy’s attempt to use his authorial power to introduce Seymour to us, the dear reader, after he commits suicide on his honeymoon. This novella contrasts the first, which has situational comedy and colourful characters to lean on. Here, Buddy is unfocused and autocratic, going on tangents that whilst entertaining can be trying. But what else is a brother to do with all his grief? He skirts around describing Seymour, addressing his students, Kafka, and parentheses, and when he does share anecdotes and descriptions, he immediately needs a break. These flashes of Seymour are love and brightness, the wisdom and purity that had all enamoured. Moments and memories pristine, and so, so sad. Buddy never tries to explain or pathologise his brother’s suicide but we get it. In a letter, Seymour wrote:

“I have scars on my hand from touching certain people. Once, in the park, when Frannie was still in the carriage, I put my hand on the downy pate of her head and left it there too long. Another time, at Loew's Seventy-second Street, with Zooey during a spooky movie. He was about six or seven, and he went under the seat to avoid watching a scary scene. I put my hand on his head. Certain heads, certain colors and textures of human hair leave permanent marks on me. Other things, too. Charlotte once ran away from me, outside the studio, and I grabbed her dress to stop her, to keep her near me. A yellow cotton dress I loved because it was too long for her. I still have a lemon-yellow mark on the palm of my right hand.”

How can a family whose value has hinged on contribution, articulation and knowledge cope with sheer feeling? This is what much of Salinger’s work explores; alienated sons and daughters all searching, in Eastern and Western religions and philosophies, in the written word and the stage, for peace. And I love them, in all their pretentious, deeply flawed glory. They are real to me<3

If you’re looking to get into Salinger here is my suggested reading order:

The Catcher in the Rye
Franny and Zooey
For Esme—With Love and Squalor, and Other Stories (also titled Nine Stories)
Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters & Seymour: An Introduction

Even though I'm more intrigued than ever by Seymour (the character), the second novella in this collection is the most annoying thing Salinger wrote. Luckily, the first novella is perfect.

Bullet-point review because I can’t make a coherent one right now
- “You wrote down that you were a writer by profession. It sounded to me like the loveliest euphemism I had ever heard. When was writing ever your profession? It's never been anything but your religion.” is the number-one quote that lives rent-free in my head. I am being dead serious when I say I think about it every day.
- I did Seymour: An Introduction so dirty in my original review—I can’t believe I said it was boring.
- God, can you imagine it?? Meaning so much to someone that upon your death they eulogize you in such a way?? To love someone so much that when they die you write something about them just to give the rest of the world a sampling of what they meant to you?? I’m going insane.
- One time I was at Barnes and Noble and trying to make small talk with the cashier because she was nice to me and I had been having a bad day. And we were discussing classic lit since I told her I had been excited to find the B&N editions of Middlemarch and The Brothers Karamazov for cheap since I hadn’t been able to find them yet and somehow we got onto the topic of the Brontës and she mentioned how she thought Anne was underrated. And so I, in a moment of pure and unearned confidence, decided to drop a line from a book I’m working on and said “Yeah, Anne Brontë— she’s the Raise High the Roofbeam, Carpenters, and Seymour: An Introduction of the Brontë sisters.” and every day I am so thankful that she understood what thought I was trying to convey because if she hadn’t I think I would’ve just spontaneously combusted from embarrassment on the spot.

116th book of 2021. Artist for this review is American painter Colin Campbell Cooper (1856-1937).

2nd reading. Salinger's fictional Glass family reside in another lifetime for me, in a previous long-lasting relationship, a time I was at university, and oddly, a family entwined with Cornwall. In my early-twenties I became a big Salinger fan and read all 4 of his novels and wondered why he hadn't written more. Penguin recommends a certain reading order for his books, one I didn't follow or know about, and there order is one I long set in stone myself for considering his corpus, and recommending it. Penguin and I both think this should be the final Salinger novel in the run of 4 (ignoring that one of them is a short story collection, not a novel). Like much of the Glass family stuff, this is narrated by Buddy Glass, who is quite transparently Salinger's alter-ego. And before we consider The Catcher in the Rye as being apart from the other three books about the Glass family, Buddy Glass gives us a hint in Seymour: An Introduction: 'Some people—not close friends—have asked me whether a lot of Seymour didn't go into the young leading character of the one novel I've published.' So, The Catcher in the Rye is also in the Glass' universe, a novel 'written' by Buddy Glass.

So after reading The Catcher in the Rye travellers should pass by Franny and Zooey to meet the youngest of the large Glass family. Then onto Nine Stories/For Esmé—With Love and Squalor where we meet several more Glass family members here and there but above all read the short story "A Good Day for Bananafish" in which we see Seymour Glass (the eldest child) killing themselves after much allusion to the event in other Salinger books. This then puts the reader at the feet of Salinger's rather strangely titled 1955 book, Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters; Seymour: An Introduction, which, as some trivia, is the actor Emma Stone's favourite book of all time.


"Fifth Avenue, New York City"

The book is comprised of two separate. . . novellas, at a push. The first is the superior (the same goes for Salinger's Franny and Zooey, also two split stories) by quite a long shot. I originally, on my first read, infatuated with J.D., gave this 5-stars but I've grown mean and dropped a star on account of the second story, "Seymour: An Introduction". The former story I remember almost as clear as I read it yesterday and enjoyed it just as much, reading it in a single sitting one night before going to sleep. Buddy takes us to 1942 for the story (6 years before Seymour's suicide) as he goes to his older brother's wedding. Despite this, Seymour does not feature once, physically, in the story. Instead, Buddy is late to the wedding and ends up in a taxi afterwards with a number of strangers where he finds out what happened at the wedding. One woman in the taxi is not a fan of Seymour. Salinger's forte has always been characters and everyone on the page of this strange, funny, sad, story glows. The highlight is the touching explosion that comes from Buddy's mouth when he finally defends his brother from the women in the taxi, gossiping about stories they've heard about him. I'll leave the rest to J.D.


"The Rush Hour, New York City"

"Seymour: An Introduction", however, does not glow. Buddy's tone has lost some of the light humour of the former story and instead becomes imposing, neurotic whilst continuing to try and be funny. He addresses the reader frequently. The story is more of an internal monologue of Buddy's as he tries to come to terms with Seymour's suicide. Elements are moving as you'd expect but Salinger really damages the piece with the strange tone Buddy has, the boring interludes talking to the reader and frankly avoiding talking about Seymour (which I have no doubt is a plot device on J.D.'s front, the avoidance of the reality). Lots of people don't like it and say it's self-indulgent and awful; I wouldn't go that far but I think it's one of the weaker things he put to page. Perhaps the most realised line of the story and the one that identifies itself, '[Seymour was] the one person who was always much, much too large to fit on ordinary typewriter paper—any typewriter paper of mine, anyway.' In the end the story is about failing to write about someone beloved who has died, and in writing a story about failing to write about such a subject, Salinger has partially failed in doing so. Somehow its failing makes for a good ending to the Glass family, as if it says something about losing Seymour, which is at the heart of all of it, in a way; or else it makes a good ending as it makes us want to read them all again. Without realising I started this novel on the exact same date and finished it on the exact same date as I did 3 years prior.