The Catcher in the Rye

The news of J.D. Salinger's death and the picture of that iconic cover -- I had that same paperback and wore it out -- took me back to 1960 and my freshman year in college.

Catcher had been out nine years when I first met Holden Caulfield. And everything about this book spoke to me -- true and real and sweet and sad.

I went on to read more Salinger, to write papers about his work, to have long discussions as to whether or not Franny was pregnant and what was the meaning of banana fish. And what about Seymour -- See more -- what did he represent?

J. D. Salinger -- I would say he'll be missed but he hasn't been around except as a legendary recluse for the past fifty years.

It's said he continued to write -- for his own pleasure. It would be lovely to think that more stories will surface -- but somehow, I don't expect it.

Besides, what we have of his is perfect.

At some point during that freshman year of college I was also introduced to T.H. White's The Once and Future King. This is one of my very favorite books of all time -- I love the Arthurian legends/tales/stories and this sprawling, multi-leveled book is magical. I've read it over and over.

These are two more books that I particularly remember from that freshman year. I was passionate about Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged -- a bit of a rite of passage for college students. When for my Intro to Philosophy class I was assigned to write about my personal philosophy, what I produced was was a pastiche of Rand's ideas.

I still remember the discussion the professor and I had: me, burning with the true flame of Rand's Objectivism and him, wearily shaking his head and saying, "But you leave no room for compassion."

I got over Rand rather quickly. I still have several of her books but haven't been tempted to a re-read. And as I think back on it, they seem a bit . . . corny.

Mary Renault's The King Must Die and its sequel The Bull from the Sea have held up much better. The beautifully retold story of Theseus and the Minotaur, these are some of the best historical fiction around. And yes, I reread them too.

A note: as of last night, the snow was coming down with more forecast. We may lose power; we may lose internet. If I don't post, that's what's happened.

Little Women

On my post for MLK day, Miss Yves (in France) commented that as a girl she had read and loved Uncle Tom's Cabin and something she referred to as "Little Ladies." I was puzzled and then it came to me -- Little Women.

Miss Yves replied to my query: "Yes , of course, "little women "; my favourite character was Jo !!!!!!!! The french translation was: "les quatre filles du docteur March."



It's amazing, the popularity of this book -- it still sells well on Amazon (though I suspect it may be bought mainly by grandmothers and aunts wishing to share a beloved book with the younger generation.)

I read it first back in the 1950's -- a good ninety years after the time it takes place -- but it always seemed fairly contemporary to me. Sure, there was talk of horse drawn carriages and the illustrations showed the little women in long dresses but it wasn't like reading a historical novel -- it was reading about four girls.

Like Miss Yves, I liked Jo the best. I admired Meg and her gentle beauty; I enjoyed Amy's artistic efforts, her silly pretentiousness, and her difficulties in school (what are pickled limes, anyway?) Sweet little Beth was a little cloying, for my taste.

But I felt I knew all of them -- I devoured Little Women and its sequels Good Wives and Little Men, and there are bits of the lives of the March family that are as real to me as my own past -- the sisters taking up staffs and pretending to be pilgrims, Jo's attic where she wrote, the blanc mange the sisters took to the invalid Laurie, Jo's eventual renunciation of Laurie, the lobster salad at Amy's school party, the lemonade at Meg's wedding, the white rose that Amy gave Laurie, the museum the boys had at Dr. Baer's school, the little cook stove that Daisy cooked a meal on -- I was there, I tell you!

I wore out the my first copy of Little Women/Good Wives. I still have this copy of Old- Fashioned Girl - wherein country mouse Polly comes to the city to stay with wealthy relatives.

This one was my mother's -- and it was already a period piece back in 1928.

I adored it. And Polly was as real and as relevant to me as Nancy Drew or the Bobbsey Twins or the Pevensey children -- they were all real people who just happened to live in books.

While looking for an illustration I came across this:
New York Times review from 2005

And this -- I hadn't known about May Alcott -- Louisa's sister and probable prototype for Amy -- who did the illustrations for the original Little Women.

I wonder how these books would strike someone today, encountering them for the first time?

Overly didactic? Saccharine? Sweetly sentimental?

I don't know. I read and loved them -- and still do.

25 Influential Books

Pat Browning, another mystery author and an email friend, recently posted a list of 25 books that had influenced her -- and, for better or worse, included my own Signs in the Blood. That got me to thinking about my own list -- I couldn't resist and here it is.

Taking it from the top, the language of the Bible, the Episcopal Book of Common Prayer (the non-modernized one), Shakespeare, and many of the poets is responsible for my fascination with words. I have a pretty good memory and I'm fond of quoting, as many of you know. But in my books I have to restrain myself to the older, out of copyright works. So I'm fortunate to have all these beautiful words dodging about through the winding corridors of my mind.

As a high school student, I was a great reader of science-fiction. I loved Ray Bradbury for his rich poetic language and lovely descriptions, as well as his thoughtful take on important themes. Robert Heinlein was another favorite -- even then, I think I knew his writing was a tad clunky and but, oh my, could he tell a story!

Historical fiction was my next passion. The ability of an good author to transport the reader in time and space is typified by Mary Renault. (Thanks to her, I'm convinced that I know ancient Greece.) The subplots in my books are the dipping of my toe into the stream of historical fiction. One day, who knows, I may take the full plunge.

Douglas Adams is just one of the many Silly Brits I have read, delighting in their way with a word. P.G. Wodehouse is the master, Adams and Neil Gaiman are close behind. And Monty Python -- all of them. I can't aspire to write like these guys, being neither silly nor a Brit, but I suspect there's some carry over into what I do.

Rumer Godden's In this House of Brede is, I'm sure, the origin of my use of internal monologue and Lee Smith's Fair and Tender Ladies is at least the godmother of Little Sylvie.

Robertson Davies is someone I'd like to write as well as. Add John Fowles, Jane Austen, Ann Tyler, Barbara Kingsolver, Margaret Atwood . . .

My influences from the mystery world would be my early favorites -- Agatha Christie and Dorothy L. Sayers, followed by P.D. James. For a long time I read only British mysteries, but then I discoved Sharyn McCrumb and Tony Hillerman. And when I was working on the rewrite of my first book, my editor sent me a copy of Elizabeth George's first book as an illustration of the sort of thing she was looking for in terms of plotting.

The Whole Earth Catalog, was, in large part responsible for our moving to the mountains and taking up the farming life. That's influential!

Last of all, when my friend Sheila Kay Adams just up and wrote Come Go Home With Me and it was published with a foreword by Lee Smith, something began to simmer and fizz in my mind. I can do that, I thought.

Is that twenty-five? Who's counting? (Math is so over-rated, as my younger son once told me.) -- and I know I've left out at least twenty-five more.

I'd love to hear what books have been important in your lives . . .