English, Junior Year

First thing first, I know that that is a cartoon rendering of Thomas Pynchon.  I wouldn't want anyone thinking that I'm confused about my Simpsons episodes or my reclusive authors*.  But pictures of reclusive authors are hard to find and honestly, if The Simpsons could have worked it out, I'm sure that sign would read "J.D. Salinger's House: Come on In."  And today is a day when we're remembering the reclusive author of our high school years, so you'll have to forgive me the inaccuracy of the picture and appreciate the spirit in which it was posted.

Like many people who survived high school, I read The Catcher in the Rye in English class my junior year.  The big life lesson I learned from the book was that that people who protest books are likely to have never read them.  On the literary front, I found that I liked Holden Caulfield.  He sounded like an actual teenager and not an approximation of an teenager written by an adult.  And I've found that many of the students I teach have read and enjoyed The Catcher in the Rye, which is pretty easy to understand.  Unlike much of what is assigned in high school English, it's relatable and not Shakespeare**. 

The power of  The Catcher in the Rye, I think, is in its uniqueness, especially an audience already hardened by texts that seem old-fashioned and feel more like chores than reading***.  For a good number of high school students, the novel captures their imaginations in a way that few things in an English classroom (or much of high school, for that matter) do and they feel less alone knowing that on the page Holden is saying much of what they've been thinking about the world.  But probably the best thing about The Catcher in the Rye is that it can be a five-year book - something you pick up once every five years and basically discover all over again.  The second time I read it, I understood who Holden was and that I wasn't him and I didn't want to be him.  But I could sympathize with him, because the things that were going on in Holden's life were making him lose his shit.  Unlike the first time I read the book - where I only saw the world through Holden's eyes - the second time I read it I saw the world around him and how he was going to have a lot of trouble in that world.  And the power of the novel comes from the effects of both of those readings, which are vital functions of literature in the first place - to make us feel less alone and to help us understand other people.  The Catcher in the Rye does both of those things, and continues to do that for generations of readers****.

So, it's no surprise that people were genuinely moved when an author who lives out of the public eye and who hasn't produced anything new in decades passed away.  While Salinger doesn't fill our bookshelves, he produced a work that many of us understand, acknowledge to be good, and that many readers feel explain the world at a time when little else manages to do so.  Because seriously, most teenagers can't see that Holden's losing it.  Because they're feeling a little desperate themselves and Holden's genuine outrage at the world comes as a bit of a comfort.  Because a lot of adults are phonies and that becomes pretty clear as one starts to make the move from the kids' table to the adult table.

But enough with the seriousness.  While there have been many tributes to J.D. Salinger and his work today, I will offer you the one that I found to be short, direct, and affectionate.  Here is "Bunch of Phonies Mourn J.D. Salinger" from The Onion.



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* Pynchon's voice is featured on an episode in the fifteenth season titled "Diatribe of a Mad Housewife" in which Marge writes a romance novel.  Pynchon is asked to give a blurb for the book.  Also, I think the episode is hilarious, especially as the plot of Marge's romance novel about whaling unfolds. 
** My apologies to Shakespeare fans.  But, as I've tried to certain parties in the past, Shakespeare in high school is not an enjoyable experience because 1.) Everyone's down on it, 2.) The teachers assume you're not smart enough to get it so they sort of build it up to be something impossible to tackle, 3.) It's not cool, and 4.)  For the most part, you only get to read tragedies and honestly, the comedies would probably work better with teenagers.
*** Again, I'm not getting down on Shakespeare (or Arthur Miller, since I was sort of thinking of him too), but King Lear for 17 year-olds?  A very rare teenager finds him or herself in that play.  And while I'd like to think I was mature, I was definitely not that kid.  And I suspect that most kids are not that kid.
****Fun fact: My dad's copy of The Catcher in the Rye from high school is sitting next to my keyboard right now. 

The Power of Charlie Brown

Charlie Brown seasonal specials always air on Tuesdays.  This is a law, handed down unto us from the television gods. The Charlie Brown Christmas/Halloween/New Years/Easter/Election Day/Grandparent's Day Extravaganza Special must always air at 8pm on a Tuesday.  This Tuesday must be at least two weeks before the holiday, in question as to fit into the hype of said holiday, but not detract from the actual holiday by airing during the period of time when one is looking for wholesome, quality holiday specials to watch.  To fill the void, ABC Family airs endless insufferable movies about Christmas shoes or Halloween capers.  This is the way we live now.

This is a very long way of saying that once again, I missed "Charlie Brown Christmas".  But I knew it was coming and now I feel as though we can officially, as a group, start to celebrate Christmas.  Because I don't actually need to see "Charlie Brown Christmas" to enjoy it or to reap its wholesome benefits.  Here's why: I know that special by heart even though I've probably only seen it all the way through once.  But I know everything that happens during that half-hour, and I can hear Linus in my head, right now, telling everyone about the true meaning of Christmas. (If you would like to hear it for real, here it is.)  And the same goes for "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown," which I actually did manage to watch this year because my mom called me.  And I realized that I've only seen that special all the way through once or twice, but I still have a creepy, six-sense type familiarity with it as well.  I mean, I own a Linus Van Pelt/Great Pumpkin play set.  And I think that Linus Van Pelt's commentary that, "There are three things I have learned you  never to discuss with people: religion, politics, and the Great Pumpkin" are some of the wisest words ever uttered by someone on television, cartoon or not.

This all leads me to wonder if the Charlie Brown Specials - particularly of the Halloween and Christmas varieties - have been fused into our cultural DNA.  I also wonder if this only applies to people of a certain age - those of us in our mid-to-late 20s and 30s - who have parents of a certain age - in their 50s and 60s - who watched and enjoyed these shows with us.   Going beyond Charlie Brown, there's a whole body of Christmas specials, that seem to be watched, enjoyed, and spoken about mostly by people my age.  This, of course,  makes me curious as to whether or not these shows have an appeal beyond our particular demographic or if they're aired every year because there are so many of us who like the television (it's my friend) and becuase our nostalgia is so powerful and marketable. 

And in case you were feeling extra nostalgic now that I've brought it up, here's "A Couple of Misfits" song from the stop-action "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer."