Sometimes, I take emo too far

So I'm just thinking back this evening about J.D. Salinger. Like many, my first exposure to his work was in sophomore year of high school - the assignment of The Catcher In The Rye. I really took to J.D. and his work immediately, being the severe emo kid that I was. After that phase, I became a serious English major in college and dropped J.D. in exchange for more sophisticated and important authors. Then, maybe about a year or a little more ago, I became more interested in his work than ever.

I don't know what exactly caused it. Certain theories might include concerns about getting older (a common Salinger theme), degeneration of my critical capabilities (something I worry about every single day), or - maybe - a true appreciation of his ability to construct beautiful sentences that resound with truth.

Here're my favorite Salinger moments in my personal history:

• Making a photocopy of the elusive short story Hapworth 16, 1924 from the original copy of The New Yorker from Hesburgh Library for a girlfriend, complete with a rainbow-emblazoned cover made on Power Point. (At the time, I disliked that short story greatly, but perhaps I should check it out again.)
• Writing inspirational messages on my mirror with leftover shards of soap.
• Listening in horror to a friend's story of manufactured hatred toward Salinger - his sophomore year tests included review questions on the number of keys on Holden's typewriter or some other such pedantic bullshit.
• Admiring the dioramas in the Museum of Natural History with more than a little bit of meta-respect.
• Finally piecing together a comprehensive theory of the Glass family.
• Thinking about Salinger every time I think about the name of the degree you get at the end of law school. (J.D.)
  
• Checking out poets almost completely due to recommendations in Seymour: An Introduction.