SALINGER'S SPOILED CHILDREN

In the summer of 2007 a friend of mine forwarded me an e-mail from an artistic collective he was affiliated with here in New York City. The group was planning a “literary pilgrimage” to Cornish, New Hampshire--the purpose being to urge J.D. Salinger to make public everything he had written since he ceased publishing his work in 1965 (because surely he had written something in the intervening years). The members of this group had decided that Salinger was selfish for keeping his writings to himself, and for allegedly threatening to burn them.

Their plan was to rent a couple of cars and drive up to Cornish, find his house and deliver their message to him. This visit was to be preceded by a letter to Mr Salinger warning him of their impending visit (but leaving the date of their visit vague so that he would not know when to expect them). I read a version of their letter-an imploring manifesto asking for more of the stories that had already affected their lives so deeply.

I found this trip to be a bad idea, and I told my friend so. I recall having a spiteful little thought: that I would have preferred it if these artists had chosen some other writer, perhaps any other writer, and gone to his house to urge him never to publish anything ever again. That is a manifesto I would have enjoyed.

The headline of the obituary in the New York Times labelled Salinger a “literary recluse”, which is true enough (though the same paper recently reported that he was a perfectly charming fixture around town, "who arrived early to church suppers, nodded hello while buying a newspaper at the general store and wrote a thank-you note to the fire department after it extinguished a blaze and helped save his papers and writings"). Yet many of his wishes were perfectly reasonable. It is normal not to want journalists appearing on your doorstep, or family members or ex-lovers to publish memoirs about you. However unlikely it is that he ever achieved peace or normalcy, he had every right to seek both.

The literary pilgrimage, if my memory serves, failed to materialise. I certainly hope that was the case. The group's passion for Salinger was achingly sincere. They loved his books and claimed to have been saved by his stories. They signed their plea "the young people". But instead of accepting Salinger’s published works as gifts, they sought his unpublished writings as their due, like ungrateful children. Surely art is not an obligation. It must always be a choice.

The fate of the writing Salinger may have left behind is unclear. Of course I share everyone's hope for new stories, new scenarios, perhaps featuring the remarkable Glass family again. But he does not owe us anything more in death than he did in life.

~ BRADLEY FREEDMAN

Picture credit: andthenpatterns (via Flickr)