In My World

I remember J D Salinger - dead at 91

A personal note:

I was in college at St John's University in 1951 when Catcher in the Rye was first published. It was the freshest, most original work I had ever read. I don't remember if our professors used it in class, but I know for sure that most of us of college age read it, quoted it, and relished every word of dialogue. Later, when I read Franny and Zooey , Franny's use of the Jesus prayer led me to the wandering Russian monks, and to the study of meditation. I still try to meditate each day, and I credit Ms. Glass with starting me on that journey.

The New Yorker this week (2/2/2010) on Salinger Lillian Ross - The New Yorker - My long friendship with J.D. Salinger NY Times: Cornish Journal: A recluse? Well, not to J.D. Salinger's neighbors The NY Times obit The Guardian: Salinger's new-look oeuvre

The Guardian: From 2002 by Anne Roiphe: The dawning of mourning -- He introduced us to phoneys - but teaching us about loss was Salinger's main aim, says Anne Roiphe

The NY Times: Of Teen Angst and an Author’s Alienation - An appraisal By MICHIKO KAKUTANI About.com: The Catcher in the Rye vocabulary The original review in the NY Times Salinger at The New Yorker And, of course, his perfect book of short stories - Nine Stories - It includes what many consider his finest work, For Esme With Love and Squalor.

Auden Poem

I just watched "Four Weddings and a Funeral" once again, and teared up once again when John Hannah, at his companion Gareth's  (Simon Callow) funeral,  read Auden's poem about losing a loved one - W H Auden - John Hannah Funeral Blues -- WH Auden Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead. Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves, Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now; put out every one, Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun, Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods; For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Apt Quote

Thomas Merton: "... The peculiar grace of a Shaker chair is due to the fact than an angel might come and sit on it."