One of my favorite authors, J.D. Salinger, passed away yesterday. Four years ago I started a collection of his ("Raise High the Roofbeams," I believe) and quickly devoured all of the short stories he ever published. I never made it more than a third into "Catcher in the Rye." I was, perhaps, the only young American who simply couldn't sympathize with Caulfield. But the enigmatic Glass family had me charmed. Salinger's use of literary irony and his way of astutely crafting dialogue between family members -- intimacy without being overwrought with affection -- warmed and delighted. So, thank you, Mr. Salinger, for being a writer. Thank you for publishing these stories. They have had such a tremendous impact on my writing as well as modern America and its literature. Even if you never wanted to achieve such success, you did.



Update: I really cannot recall with which book I started. But I recall afterward recommending all of the books, though they were (in my opinion) best when read in a particular order. I will have to see if I have it written anywhere which order exactly it was.

Here is one of the excerpts from "Raise High" (a very funny one, though not the absolute best) I quoted on my blog in 2006:

As the Matron of Honor followed me toward the bedroom, where the phone was, the bride's father's uncle came toward us from the far end of the hall. His face was in the ferocious repose that had fooled me during most of the car ride, but as he came closer to us in the hall, the mask reversed itself; he pantomimed to us both the very highest salutations and greetings, and I found myself grinning and nodding immoderately in return. His sparse white hair looked freshly combed - almost freshly washed, as though he might have discovered a tiny barbershop cached away at the other end of the apartment. When he'd passed us, I felt a compulsion to look back over my shoulder, and when I did, he waved to me, vigorously - a great, bon-voyage, come-back-soon wave. It picked me up no end. "What is he? Crazy?" the Matron of Honor said. I said I hoped so, and opened the door of the bedroom.

Salinger, Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters

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