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Having been an Honors English student in high school, lo, those many years ago, this was on our recommended reading list. I didn’t like Holden Caulfield then. Now, the father of a daughter approaching her teenage years, I like him even less.
I reread the book recently, and the question is the same now as was it twenty five years ago: “This is classic literature?”
While relatively well written, this story has been done to death since time immemorial. And, frankly, promulgates the self absorbed teenage stereotype.
Holden Caulfield is NOT a stereotypical teenager.
Holden Caulfield IS a hypocrite. He IS a narcissist. He IS paranoid. He IS a cynic without the true experience in life to jade him. In short, he is a poseur desparately seeking some self importance to which he is far from entitled.
Although certainly alienated, and just as certainly an intelligent underachiever, he is, at root, a spoiled brat in dire need of having his backside tanned.
While there may be some merit to the idea that there are no bad children, only bad parents, young Master Caulfield bears the greatest responsibility for his situation. His willfully shallow character prevents him from seeing anyone or anything outside himself.
No, this is not “classic literature”. It is not even an accurate portrayal of teenage angst and alienation. It is the story of a puling spoiled rich kid who doesn’t get life his way.
Well, welcome to the world, Young Man, because that’s just the way things are.