Spoiler Alert : The Catcher in the Rye

“I have a feeling that you’re riding for some kind of a terrible, terrible fall. But I don’t honestly know what kind… Are you listening to me?” “Yes.” “It might be the kind where, at the age of thirty, you sit in some bar hating everyone who comes in looking as if he might have played football in college. Then again, you might pick up just enough education to hate people who say, ‘It’s a secret between he and I.’ Or you may end up in some business office, throwing paper-clips at the nearest stenographer. I just don’t know. But do you know what I’m driving at, at all?”

"...This fall I think you're riding for --it's a special kind of fall, a horrible kind.The man isn't permitted to feel or hear himself hit bottom. He just keeps falling and falling. The whole arrangement's designed for men who, at some time or other in their lives, were looking for something their own environment couldn't supply them with. Or they
thought their own environment couldn't supply them with. So they gave up looking. The gave
up before they really even got started. You follow me?"
"Yes sir"
"Sure?"
"Yes."

"I don’t want to scare you. But I can very clearly see you dying nobly, one way or another, for some highly unworthy cause. If I write down something for you, will you read it carefully? And keep it? It was written by a psychoanalyst named Wilhelm Stekel. Here’s what he said: “The mark of the immature man is that wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of the mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one.”

"I think that one of these days," he said, "you're going to have to find out where you want to go. And then you've got to start going there. But immediately. You can't afford to lose a minute. Not you."

I nodded, because he was looking right at me and all, but I wasn't too sure what he was talking about. I was pretty sure I knew, but I wasn't too positive at the time. I was too damn tired.

"And I hate to tell you," he said, "but I think that once you have a fair idea where you want to go, your first move will be to apply yourself in school. You'll have to. You're a student--whether the idea appeals to you or not. You're in love with knowledge. And I think you'll find, once you get past all the Mr. Vineses and their Oral Comp--"

"Mr. Vinsons," I said. He meant all the Mr. Vinsons, not all the Mr. Vineses. I shouldn't have interrupted him, though.

"All right--the Mr. Vinsons. Once you get past all the Mr. Vinsons, you're going to start getting closer and closer--that is, if you want to, and if you look for it and wait for it--to the kind of information that will be very, very dear to your heart.

Among other things, you'll find that you're not the first person who was ever confused and frightened and even sickened by human behavior. You're by no means alone on that score, you'll be excited and stimulated to know. Many, many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now. Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. You'll learn from them--if you want to. Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you. It's a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it isn't education. It's history. It's poetry." He stopped and took a big drink out of his highball. Then he started again. Boy, he was really hot. I was glad I didn't try to stop him or anything. "I'm not trying to tell you," he said, "that only educated and scholarly men are able to contribute something valuable to the world. It's not so. But I do say that educated and scholarly men, if they're brilliant and creative to begin with--which, unfortunately, is rarely the case--tend to leave infinitely more valuable records behind them than men do who are merely brilliant and creative. They tend to express themselves more clearly, and they usually have a passion for following their thoughts through to the end. And--most important--nine times out of ten they have more humility than the unscholarly thinker. Do you follow me at all?"

"Yes, sir."

I recently read this book, Catcher In The Rye By J.D. Salinger, a friend recommended it to me sayin his writin style is similar to mine and I read it and I think its kinda true, and I suddenly realise that I must be so freakin irritatin to everyone else. Cuz I figure I'm like that guy in some respects, like my true nature bein lame and retarded and findin most of the world fake or stupid, and knowin that I'm probably a weird loser guy and still bein unable to give a shit about it. Not to mention the writin style is kinda buggin with his vagueness about everything. And there's a certain arrogance in his tone, and I think this guy is totally me. But he is effin funny. I give him that. Like so freakin funny, its awesome.

The reason he's so funny is probably the fact that he's basically in touch with reality. Though irritable, there's no ego about the author, he sees/evaluates himself in the same light as he sees the others. A normal, flawed guy knowing he's normal and flawed is infinitely better than a grand guy understanding he's grand, and being an ass about it. As a writer he's vague, incoherent and repetitive. But thats just because he is so frank, and also because he's writing somethin cuz he feels like writin it, he's not writin for an audience, he's probably just jotting down his thoughts on a subject, its the first hand review of the subject, where no particular opinions or conclusions have been reached yet. He's probably reaching many of them as he writes. His mind is prone to wandering, and he covers a million different topics while talkin about just one.

The above extract, is basically when the teacher explains what the hell is wrong with him. I was really interested in knowing that. Its a great book, check it out.

On another note, I read The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga. Its a blatant reflection of reality. I could relate to it cuz of Kota, cuz I lived in the society, I knew their thought processes. Its as real as it gets. Read it if you can handle non-happy endings, the unfairness of life, and the simple fact that, there aren't really guardian angels, that the law of the nature is the survival of the fittest - and the fittest may not always be the kindest or the most righteous.

I put this out of the way, cuz I kept jumping to this topic when I was writing bout somethin else.

"What I mean is, lots of time you don't know what interests you most till you start talking about something that doesn't interest you most. I mean you can't help it sometimes. What I think is, you're supposed to leave somebody alone if he's at least being interesting and he's getting all excited about something. I like it when somebody gets excited about something. It's nice."

But then sometimes, there's a time and place for everything.