How many brands may secretly, desperately wish to retire to a village in New Hampshire to live out their days on the strength of their legacy, unyielding to the temptation to pump it up amidst the bright lights and big cities?
Explaining his love for one story, James Wood wrote that it's the kind you want to read aloud to someone. If I had to pick a few stories that meet Wood's assessment, one of them would have to be Salinger's tender For Esme With Love and Squalor.
There was always something comforting about knowing that Salinger was still shuffling around the bending country roads. But now he checks out with the mind and heart of the Holy Trilogy and one masterpiece.
Do you get the sense that the banking reform melee is like one massive free-for-all where the combatants, all snarling and backbiting each another, will stymie true and productive reform and turn it "phony?"
The Glass kids are at the center of Franny and Zooey, the one Salinger book I can re-read every year. With the exception of a short story, it's the last fiction Salinger has published -- and we're talking 1961 here.
Over the last thirty years of his life, Salinger -- or Jerry, as his closest intimates called him -- exchanged hundreds of letters with me, a correspondence which both of us found profoundly nourishing to our souls.