Some+Crazy+Cliff


 * J. D. Salinger: Some Crazy Cliff**
 * Critics:** Arthur Heiserman and James E. Miller, Jr. **Source:** //Western Humanities Review//, Vol. X, No. 2, Spring, 1956, pp. 129–37. Reproduced by permission **Criticism about:** J(erome) D(avid) Salinger (1919-), **also known as:** J. D(avid) Salinger, Jerome David Salinger, J. D. Salinger

It is clear that J. D. Salinger's **//The Catcher in the Rye//** belongs to an ancient and honorable narrative tradition, perhaps the most profound in western fiction. The tradition is the central pattern of the epic and has been enriched by every tongue; for not only is in itself exciting but also it provides the artist a framework upon which he may hang almost any fabric of events and characters. It is, of course, the tradition of the Quest.... American literature seems fascinated with the outcast, the person who defies traditions in order to arrive at some pristine knowledge, some personal integrity.... All the virtues of these American heroes are personal ones: they most often, as a matter of fact, are in conflict with home, family, church. The typical American hero must flee these institutions, become a tramp in the earth, cut himself off from Chicago, Winesburg, Hannibal, Cooperstown, New York, Asheville, Minneapolis. For only by flight can he find knowledge of what is real. And if he does not flee, he at least defies. The protagonist of the **//The Catcher in the Rye//**, Holden Caulfield, is one of these American heroes, but with a significant difference. He seems to be engaged in both sorts of quests at once; he needs to go home and he needs to leave it. Unlike the other American knight errants, Holden seeks Virtue second to Love. He wants to be good. When the title children are playing in the rye-field on the clifftop, Holden wants to be the one who catches them before they fall off the cliff. He is not driven toward honor or courage. He is not driven toward love of woman. Holden is driven toward love of his fellow-man, charity.... Holden is actually frightened by a frontier code of masculinitya code which sometimes requires its adherents to behave in sentimental and bumptious fashions. But like these American heroes, Holden is a wanderer, for in order to be good he has to be more of a bad boy than the puritanical Huck could have imagined. Holden has had enough of both Hannibal, Missouri, //and// the Mississippi; and his tragedy is that when he starts back up the river, he has no place to gosave, of course, a California psychiatrist's couch. So Salinger translates the old tradition into contemporary terms. The **phoniness** of society forces Holden Caulfield to leave it, but he is seeking nothing less than stability and love. He would like nothing better than a home, a life embosomed upon what is known and can be trusted; he is a very wise sheep forced into lone wolf's clothing; ... He does, of course, have a Penelope who is still intact. She is his little sister Phoebe whom he must protect at all costs from the phantoms of lust, hypocrisy, conceit and fear all of the attributes which Holden sees in society.... So at the end ... Holden delights in circles  a comforting, bounded figure which yet connotes hopelessness. He breaks down as he watches his beloved little Phoebe going round and round on a carousel; she is so //damned// happy. From that lunatic delight in a circle, he is shipped off to the psychiatrist. For Holden loves the world more than the world can bear. Holden's Quest takes him outside society; yet the grail he seeks is the world and the grail is full of love. To be a catcher in the rye in this world is possible only at the price of leaving it. To be good is to be a case, a bad boy who confounds the society of men. So Holden seeks the one role which would allow him to be a catcher, and that role is the role of the child. As a child, he would be condoned, for a child is a sort of savage and a pariah because he is innocent and good. But it is Holden's tragedy that he is sixteen, and like Wordsworth he can never be less. In childhood he had what he is now seeking non-**phoniness**, truth, innocence. He can find it now only in Phoebe and in his dead brother Allie's baseball mitt, in a red hunting cap and the tender little nuns. Still, unlike all of us, Holden refuses to compromise with adulthood and its necessary adulteries; and his heroism drives him berserk. Huck Finn had the Mississippi and at the end of the Mississippi he had the wild west beyond Arkansas.... But for Holden, there is no place to go.... Childhood and the loss of innocence have obsessed much of western literature at least since the Enlightenment, when man was declared innately good, corrupted only by his institutions. If we could return to childhood, or to noble savagery; or if we could retain the spontaneity of childhood, our social and personal problems would disappear.... The flight out of the world, out of the ordinary, and into an Eden of innocence or childhood is a common flight indeed, and it is one which Salinger's heroes are constantly attempting. But Salinger's childism is consubstantial with his concern for love and neurosis. Adultism is precisely the suffering of being unable to love, and it is that which produces neurosis. Everyone able to love in Salinger's stories is either a child or a man influenced by a child. All the adults not informed by love and innocence are by definition **phonies** and prostitutes. You take adults, they always look lousy when they're asleep with their mouths open, but kids don't ... They look all right. Kids like Phoebe shut up when they haven't anything to say. They even say thank you when you tighten their skates, and they don't go behind a post to button their pants. The nuns expect no swanky lunches after standing on a corner to collect money. Young James Castle would not go back on his word even though he had to jump from a window to keep it. Holden is the kind of person who feels sorry for the teachers who have to flunk him. He fears for the ducks when the lagoon freezes over, for he is a duck himself with no place to go. He must enter his own home like a crook, lying to elevator boys and tip-toeing past bedrooms. His dad will kill him and his mother will weep for his incorrigible laziness. He wants only to pretend he is a deaf mute and live as a hermit filling-station operator in Colorado, but he winds up where the frontier ends, California, in an institution for sick rich kids. And we can see, on the final note of irony in the book, that that frontier west which represented escape from sivilization for Huck Finn has ended by becoming the symbol for depravity and **phoniness** in our national shrine at Hollywood.... Holden Caulfield is no clown nor is he a tragic hero; he is a sixteen-year-old lad whose vivid encounter with everyday life is tragically humorous or humorously tragic. At the end of the novel, as we leave Holden in the psychiatric ward of the California hospital, we come to the realization that the abundant and richly varied humor of the novel has reenforced the serious intensity of Holden's frantic flight from Adultism and his frenzied search for the genuine in a terrifyingly **phony** world.... It is not the least surprising aspect of **//The Catcher in the Rye//** that trite expressions and metaphors with which we are all familiar and even bored turn out, when emerging from the mouth of a sixteen-year-old, to be funny. The unimaginative repetition of identical expressions in countless situations intensifies the humor. The things in Holden's world are always jumping up and down or bouncing or scattering like madmen. Holden always lets us know when he has insight into the absurdity of the endless absurd situations which make up the life of a sixteen-year-old by exclaiming, It killed me. In a **phony** world Holden feels compelled to reenforce his sincerity and truthfulness constantly with, It really is or It really did. Incongruously the adjective old serves as a term of endearment, from old Thomas Hardy to old Phoebe. And many of the things Holden does, he does, ambiguously, like a bastard. Holden is a master of the ludicrous irrelevancy. Indeed, a large part of **//The Catcher in the Rye//** consists of the relevantly irrelevant. On the opening page, Holden says, I'm not going to tell you my whole goddam autobiography or anything. I'll just tell you about this madman stuff that happened to me around last Christmas.... By the time we have finished //Catcher// we feel that we know Holden as thoroughly as any biography could reveal him, and one of the reasons is that he has not hesitated to follow in his tale wherever whim and fancy lead him. For example, in the early part of the novel, Holden goes at some length into the history of the Ossenburger Memorial Wing of the new dorms, his place of residence. Ossenburger, we are told, was the Pencey alumnus who made a pot of dough in the undertaking business, and who, after giving money to Pencey, gave a speech in chapel that lasted about ten hours. He told us we should always pray to God talk to Him and all  wherever we were. He told us we ought to think of Jesus as our buddy and all. He said //he// talked to Jesus all of the time. Even when he was driving his car. That killed me. I can just see the big **phony** bastard shifting into first gear and asking Jesus to send him a few more stiffs. Ossenburger, of course, has nothing to do, directly, with the madman stuff that happened to Holden around Christmas; but Holden's value judgment of the **phony** Ossenburger is certainly relevant to Salinger's purpose, the revelation of Holden's character. When Holden refuses to express aggressive dislike of the repulsive Ackley, the pimply boy whose teeth looked mossy and awful, he is not being facetious nor is he lying. He is simply expressing an innocence incapable of genuine hatred. Holden does not suffer from the inability to love, but he does despair of finding a place to bestow his love. The depth of Holden's capacity for love is revealed in his final words, as he sits in the psychiatric ward musing over his nightmarish adventures: If you want to know the truth, I don't //know// what I think about it. I'm sorry I told so many people about it. About all I know is, I sort of miss everybody I told about. Even old Stradlater and Ackley, for instance. I think I even miss that goddam Maurice. It's funny. Don't ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody. We agree with Holden that it is funny, but it is funny in a pathetic kind of way. As we leave Holden alone in his room in the psychiatric ward, we are aware of the book's last ironic incongruity. It is not Holden who should be examined for a sickness of the mind, but the world in which he has sojourned and found himself an alien. To cure Holden, he must be given the contagious, almost universal disease of **phony** adultism; he must be pushed over that crazy cliff.
 * Nationality:** American
 * Source:** Arthur Heiserman and James E. Miller, Jr., [[image:http://galenet.galegroup.com/images/chr/ldquo.gif align="bottom"]]J. D. Salinger: Some Crazy Cliff,[[image:http://galenet.galegroup.com/images/chr/rdquo.gif align="bottom"]] in //Western Humanities Review//, Vol. X, No. 2, Spring, 1956, pp. 129[[image:http://galenet.galegroup.com/images/chr/ndash.gif align="bottom"]]37. Reproduced by permission.
 * Source Database:** Contemporary Literary Criticism