Tantrum Warehouse
Tact Free Since 2003

Catch This

I want to confess something.

I just finished reading Catcher in the Rye. Yes, I am really twenty-five years old. Yes, I went to college. Yes, I have an IQ of over 100. No, I had never read that book. Until today.

But here is the confession part (because that wasn't bad enough??): I liked it and enjoyed it but I don't really understand what the big deal is.

Ok. I understand and enjoy symbolism in literature. And I love the language and the building of characters. And I really did like this book, BUT, like almost every "great" book I have ever read I always have this feeling of "is this it?"

I think that I build these books up in my head long before I ever read them. I make it a point to not read summaries or descriptions of the stories so that I have no expectations. But this book has been found on the bedside tables of stalkers and serial killers everywhere. Was this it?

It has beautiful language. And I adore Salinger. Cannot believe I just hadn't read this particular book. But JESUS. This inspired the assasination of John Lennon?

I missed a lot of classic books growing up. I went to a shitty public school that didn't care about them. And a great private college that expected you to have read them and wanted you to read "new" classics by female writers. All of which is well and good. But you feel like you have missed something.

But each time I read one, because I am trying to read them all, I am oddly disappointed. Like there is some big joke that I am missing. But the truth is that I think books become "classic" because they are the first book that some one read that affected them. And if every book you read affects you (as mine do) than the experience is less special and raw.

But it does make me feel like a real phoney.

7:41 p.m. :: comment ::
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