Catcher in the Rye Essay: Holden and the Complexity of Adult Life

Holden and the Complexity of Adult Life What was wrong with Holden, the main character in The Catcher in the Rye, by J.D.Salinger, was his moral revulsion against anything that was ugly, evil, cruel, or what he called "phoney" and his acute responsiveness to beauty and innocence, especially the innocence of the very young, in whom he saw reflected his own lost childhood.   There is something wrong or lacking in the novels of despair and frustration of many writers. The sour note of bitterness and the recurring theme of sadism have become almost a convention, never thoroughly explained by the author's dependence on a psychoanalytical interpretation of a major character. The boys who are spoiled or turned into budding homosexuals by their mothers and a loveless home life are as familiar to us today as stalwart and dependable young heroes such as John Wayne were to an earlier generation. We have accepted this interpretation of the restlessness and bewilderment of our young men and boys because no one had anything better to offer. It is tragic to hear the anguished cry of parents: "What have we done to harm him? Why doesn't he care about anything? He is a bright boy, but why does he fail to pass his examinations? Why won't he talk to us?" A remarkable and absorbing novel, J. D. Salinger's "The Catcher in the Rye," may serve to calm the apprehensions of fathers and mothers about their own responsibilities, though it doesn't attempt to explain why all boys who dismay their elders have failed to pass successfully the barrier between childhood and young manhood. It is profoundly moving and a disturbing book, but it is not hopeless. Holden Caulfield, sixteen years old and six foot two inches in hei... ...Boy, I was shaking like a madman." The Catcher in the Rye is not all horror of this sort. There is a wry humor in this sixteen-year-old's trying to live up to his height, to drink with men, to understand mature sex and why he is still a virgin at his age. His affection for children is spontaneous and delightful. There are few little girls in modern fiction as charming and lovable as his little sister, Phoebe. Altogether this is a book to be read thoughtfully and more than once. It is about an unusually sensitive and intelligent boy; but, then, are not all boys unusual and worthy of understanding? If they are bewildered at the complexity of modern life, unsure of themselves, shocked by the spectacle of perversity and evil around them - are not adults equally shocked by the knowledge that even children cannot escape this contact and awareness?

Having eaten what would

The day started out like any other one I had. I woke up to the sounds of my mother puttering pots and pans in our yellow-painted sunny kitchen downstairs. Smoothing my pajamas a bit, I went down our creaky stairs, wondering what’s for breakfast and what to wear today. I thought about my still unused black top with a pink print that mom bought the other day at the mall and wondered if I would look good in it.As I got nearer the kitchen, the smell of my favorite toast and scrambled eggs wafted deliciously in the air. Upon reaching the open kitchen door, I greeted mom with my usual big grin and sat facing her, who was washing the dishes that she used for cooking. Having eaten what would have fed an army of hungry soldiers; I drank what’s left of my old coffee mug and dashed upstairs to prepare for school. Having shouted a hurried goodbye to mom and dad from across the house, I hopped to the front porch, the smell of mom’s yummy toast still following me on the way ou t.Looking up, I saw that the skies promises a good day for everyone, with the sun shining comfortably above, and the wind softly touching the leaves of the trees which lined the sidewalk. And because I was scheduled to go to an orphanage after classes are dismissed for a project, I hoped the weather will last till the afternoon. With what I had just wolfed down for breakfast, I literally sang my way to school, getting smiles along the way for my seemingly infectious good mood.The day went by uneventfully, with the exception of my burly economics teacher pointing out that I was looking so much outside the newly-cleaned classroom window he joked if I was wondering why it wasn’t clean enough. When the bell sounded signaling class dismissal, I was one of the first to go out the room, thinking I might as well hurry up and go to the orphanage so I can go home early. This is the first time I was going to an orphanage and I did not know what to expect. Little did I know that my trip to that old, run-down building would change how I see life in general from that point on.Going outside the school building, I saw that the good morning weather did not hold. It was a wet, dismal afternoon, the pendulous branches of the silver maples sweeping the ground. The orphanage was a long, drab rectangular building, three stories high and badly in need of repair.The outer walls were soot- blackened and pockmarked with grey blobs where the plasters had flaked off. A white inner core revealed by recent flaking showed up here and there. Upon entering the orphanage, I immediately sensed the sad atmosphere of the place as it looked dark and dismal to me, but I thought that perhaps it was just the use of the building that made it seemed so.The windows were small and set well back in the blotchy walls. The ground floor was comprised of the director’s sleeping quarters, kitchen, dining room, administrative offices and chapel, all connected by a corridor which ran right around t he building, forming an inner rectangle and overlooking a courtyard on all four sides.However it was the lack of options in the children’s lives that had no choice but to grow up there struck me the most. Although the building was a better place to live in than the streets, the surroundings are disheartening.The profusion of a variety of flowers lining the paved path walk towards the main door of the orphanage did not help much to bring cheerfulness to the place. No pictures or posters broke the monotony. One child said that often, the water did not turn on, and the toilets did not always work. Unlike many children who have homes to call their own including me, the children had no choice about the kinds or even the amount of food, though they had an adequate diet.Each child was assigned a bed with sparsely bedding, placed in two long rows along the third floor of the building, two to each bed for children seven years old and below. The second floor was taken up by the bare cl assrooms where the children were taught. With only a small number of financial contributors, I was told that the orphanage was regularly hard pressed to care for the growing number of orphans.At the time that I spent there, I observed that the children’s day was ruled by the sound of a loud bell – by its shrill ring they would know that it was time to start the afternoon prayers, or eat their main meal. I noticed most of the children have a pleading look in their eyes when they look at outsiders who visit the building. With unwavering gaze, one child, about six years old with a creamy olive skin, enormous dark eyes and a long, shining dark brown hair, constantly followed me around, even when I went inside the office of the orphanage director to ask him several questions.As I walked down a long hallway towards the director’s office, she was like my shadow following my every step. I immediately noticed the peeling paint on the walls of the small office that the ta ll, kindly director invited me in, while seeing from the corner of my eye that the child has reluctantly stepped back to let the director close the wooden door. I brought out the list of questions that I prepared from my backpack, along with my small, black recorder, and I immediately started the interview to which the director answered as much as he can.Straightening up from the hard chair and shaking his hands while thanking him for his time, I headed outside when the bell rang for the evening meal. From all over the old building the orphans began to collect outside the dining hall. In their drab gray uniforms, they all looked the same, dreary and colorless. Just like the orphanage building itself. Thinking back, the orphanage was not a harsh place.It was just sadness hung in the air like a sour smell. I never really saw my life as sad. I was blessed in so many ways that the orphans were not, although these blessings I failed to be really thankful of until that day at the orphanag e.When I got back home, I hugged my mom so tight she had an inquiring look on her face when I let her go, and smelled the appetizing aroma of dinner cooking, the pleasant smell of home. As we sat together had chicken with chardonnay and fresh herbs, I recounted my experience at the orphanage and what I saw there. In the midst of our family talk, I said a silent prayer of thanks for the blessings that I previously took for granted.Before, I thought that I lacked so many things in life. But after a day at the orphanage, I become conscious of every little thing that I am blessed with. Most especially my parents, who were sitting with me at dinner that time; talking animatedly about how we could make the orphans happy, if only for a day.

The Judge The Toad Judge - 1011 Words

â€Å"Have you reached a verdict?† asked the toad judge. â€Å"Yes, your honor.† the gopher said working as the head of the jury. â€Å"AND?† asked the toad judge. â€Å"We the jury find Timothy Barren GUILTY on all charges of crimes against Mother Nature.† â€Å"NO!† Timothy cried out. â€Å"Tough break kid† Timothy s weasel lawyer said to him. â€Å"Well, see ya.† â€Å"Well then with the power invested in me by the court of the forest, I hear by sentence you Timothy Barren to death for crimes against Mother Nature.† the toad judge said and then slammed his gable down on the rock he was perched upon, the sound echoing throughout the woods. â€Å"NO... NO NO NO NO Noooooo!† Timothy cried. â€Å"You can t do this! I m sorry... I m sorry... I ll never hurt another animal again. I ll become a vegetarian. I ll volunteer for the ASPCA. I ll do whatever you want. Pleaassseeee... Pleaaasssseeeee... don t do this. I m sorry. I M SOOOORRRRRRRRRYYYYY!!!† Timothy sobbed on uncontrollably until he almost passed out, and upon the toad judge seeing him weep, he sighed and said, â€Å"Wait... In light of your remorse and you’re throwing yourself upon the mercy of the court. I have reconsidered your sentencing.† Timothy looked at the toad judge with his bloodshot eyes. â€Å"I re-sentence you to walk through the tunnel of understanding.† said the toad judge banging his gable on the rock again. â€Å"W-what?† Timothy asked totally confused. â€Å"What s the tunnel of understanding?†Show MoreRelatedSummary : The Toad Judge Said 928 Words   |  4 Pagesback at him. The jurors gasped in horror. The toad judge said â€Å"Enough! I will have order in the court of the forest.† Timothy s weasel lawyer looked up at him and said â€Å"I’m pretty sure you should shut-up now. Badgering the witness won t help your case.† Timothy wiped his nose with the sleeve of his Halloween costume and began to breathe heavily as he worked to choke back his tears. â€Å"Go on, Mr. Squirrel.† the toad judge said. â€Å"Well, after Timothy Barren got done belaboringRead MoreAnalysis Of Timothy Tolds The Toad Court 1081 Words   |  5 Pages Timothy sobbed uncontrollably until he almost passed out, and then the toad judge said â€Å"Wait... in light of your remorse and you’re throwing yourself upon the mercy of the court. I have reconsidered you sentencing.† Timothy looked at the toad judge with his blood-shot eyes. â€Å"I re-sentence you to walk through the tunnel of understanding.† said the toad judge banging his gable on the rock again. â€Å"W-what?† Timothy asked totally confused. â€Å"What s the tunnel of understanding?† Read MoreThumbelina: Negative Stereotypes that Society has Developed to Individuals1101 Words   |  5 Pageskidnapped by the toad so she will marry the son. The toad explains to her that her son needs someone like her to cook and clean. This portrays to women that you must marry someone because you are weak and you are only good for cooking and cleaning. In the end it shows girls that without a prince to have happily ever after with, you do not have much hope at all. In addition, the fairytale addresses the issue of how society underestimates small people. Our society judges people, and ifRead MoreThe Weasel - Original Writing1341 Words   |  6 Pagesthey stared at Timothy scornfully. â€Å"No more questions your honor,† the deer said, and then he walked back over to his side of the clearing, sat down, and began grooming his genitals with his tongue. â€Å"Your witness, Mr. Weasel,† said the frog judge. â€Å"Don t worry kid, I got this,† the weasel replied, looking up at Timothy and then giving him a wink. Timothy just put his hands over his face praying this would all go away. The weasel lawyer stood up and then made his way through the clearingRead MoreThe Complexities and Themes in The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame 564 Words   |  2 Pagesfriendship and of good friends. The whole story is showing how Mole, Badger and Rat who are very good friends to Toad even though Toad does not appreciate them and listen to them as much as he should. This is shown when even though Toad has left them and run away, Rat, Mole and Badger will still help him gain his mansion back. Also, Toad’s three friends will challenge him to be a better toad, and even though he keeps disappointing them they do not give up. They are truthful with him and tell him whenRead MoreHallucinogens in History Essay993 Words   |  4 Pages Drugs considered to be within the category of hallucinogens include LSD, mushrooms (psyilocybin), mescaline, and N-Bomb. They can be smoked, made into liquor, injected, ingested, snorted, or even licked from the backs of certain toads such as the Sonoran Desert Toad (Erowid.org). Some common â€Å"street names† for the substances include acid, blotter, sugar cubes, shroom, zoom, and angel dust. While some hallucinogens are synthetic, others, like peyote and salvia, are derived from natural plants andRead MoreSuperstition and the Witch-hunts in Early Modern Britain Essay1249 Words   |  5 PagesThis would mean the victims of the witchcraft might not initiate a trial for fear of counter accusation. The way that the secular courts were organised was also important as the judges presiding over cases would not be local magistrates, but would be from another area. This meant that judges would not order executions for fear of the locals ostracising them and would strive to uphold a fair trial. Methods of discerning witches from other people such as the devils Read MoreThe Witches : Suspicions, Betrayals And Hysteria Of The Salem Witch Trials Essay1169 Words   |  5 Pagesand horse one servant informed his mistress, she was an ordinary whore, burnt tail bitch and hopping toad† (195). Revenge seeking servants could easily explain some of the spooky things that occurred in Salem. Many of the adolescent girls in Salem were the first to point fingers. Sarah Good was called to trial and had to sit in front of Judge Hawthorne and his jury while he questioned her. The judge asked her: â€Å"What evil spirit have you familiarity with?† to which she replied â€Å"None†. Hawthorne continuedRead MoreBullying Should Be Addressed For The Proper Development Of Children1347 Words   |  6 PagesBullying is a very strong word to all the people around the world but some time people may not know if they are bullying other people. Bullying to all of us means something different. This is why I consider it very hard to judge and punish bullying as definitely what is bullying? Is bullying when you just fight with a kid or simply insult him and he insults you back, is it when you tease him for something he does, or is it when you take things from him without his permission is that bullying? StudiesRead MoreAnalysis Of The Book Till We Have Faces 1447 Words   |à ‚  6 Pagesin a higher power, such as a god or gods. The whole story revolves around the gods. Orual wrote the whole first book with bitterness and hatred towards the gods, always blaming them for her sorrows. â€Å"I say, therefore, that there is no creature (toad, scorpion, or serpent) so noxious to man as the gods. Let them answer my charge if they can. It may well be that, instead of answering, they’ll strike me mad or leprous or turn me into beast, bird, or tree†(249-250). The first big event you see