R.I.P in the Rye
You said Goodbye to the world a long time before you actually left it. You never wanted greatness – you had it thrust upon you and you did the only thing you felt you could – you retreated into your own private space. But not before you gave us Holden Caulfield. Rebellious, never-grow-up Holden who became the symbol for teenage turbulence. More importantly, the symbol of the non-phony.
What was it all about, this book that grew bigger than you and became the inspiration for a whole generation? Was it just a journey of self-discovery? Or was it a treatise about integrity, of being true to oneself above all else? And does being true to oneself and shunning phoniness set you apart, put you in the fringes?
Whatever it was, the heart of the book captivated us – maybe because we saw a bit of ourselves in the protagonist? Maybe because those were the idealistic years when being a part of the herd didn’t always matter.
They say you wrote more – a lot more. Will it all come pouring out now that you’re gone? The question is: do we want it to come pouring out? Or would we rather hold onto that one dream you inspired, hidden beneath those memories of the way things were, before the masks were in place? Sometimes, ‘just enough’ is a lot more powerful than ‘too much’.
Gin a body meet a body comin’ thro’ the rye …. there’s no need to cry. Just rest in peace. Did you just say, ‘Sleep tight, ya morons?’
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