> >>I'd like to take on the "Why did Seymour Kill himself" entry. I have such >>violent opinions on the matter, and I now have two quarters worth of >>experience testing my you're-supposed-to-think-at-the-end-of-the- >>story-that-Seymour-was-going-to-shoot-Muriel theory on uninitiated >>Salinger readers. I'm not really positive what you mean here; that is, are you suggesting that we SHOULD think Seymour was about to kill Muriel, or that we SHOULDN'T? It doesn't really change the topic much, it'd just be nice to know your opinion. Personally, I don't think Salinger meant us to think Seymour would kill Muriel. Perhaps it's only because I can't imagine ANYONE wanting to kill Muriel (no, that's not sarcastic; yes, I am still very Taken with her character). But I also believe that there was simply too little space in which to think it. What I mean is, the place on the page where Seymour pulls out his gun is about an inch away from the place on the page where he uses it. (Sorry to put it so prosaically, but I wasn't sure how else to articulate it.) I don't think the reader really has time in reading to consider it. Unless, of course, you mean that after having finished the story, should a reader be left with the impression that Seymour HAD been about to kill Muriel, but changed his mind at the last minute? That, I think, potentially has a lot of veracity, but mostly only within the context of that story alone. In that story, we are led to believe via Mrs. Fedder and Muriel that Seymour is sick in his blessed noggin, that he's been to Germany (which of course implies he fought in the war), and that, from a psychoanalytical view, he can be considered dangerous. THEN, through Seymour's own actions, we see that he is hiding himself (in the bathrobe), is more comfortable with children than with adults, and is extremely volatile and agitable, as shown in the elevator. Is that a set-up for a potential killer? It very well could be. The only source outside of the story that can support this is his throwing the rock at Charlotte--which, I'll admit, is a very imporant and solid source. But elsewhere outside the story, we see how much Seymour loves Muriel--and not for her very outward Buddhist lifestyle, but rather for her very worldly (read "superficial") words and actions. But even in light of that, did he think she was too perfect, in the same way that he perhaps thought Charlotte was too perfect? I think some credence can and probably should be found in that, although some very unproveable feeling I get tells me that that is not the case. Of course, feelings about literature are very easily impugned, but no so easily deterred in the feeler. Am I getting anywhere with this, or have I just gone on for half an eon while entirely missing the point? I don't know. I still don't think Seymour meant to kill Muriel. I have my own very strong ideas about Seymour's suicide, which I've posted many times before, and which I'm glad to post again. (Thought you were safe, did you?) I think Seymour loved the world too much, which interfered with his Dharma--his Dharma being to not be attached to this world and keep on with his Dharma, which is loopy in more ways than one, perhaps, but it's what I think. Anyway, I borrow heavily from "Teddy" for this explanation, since Teddy told us that Americans like the world too much to further their spiritual development. I think the fable of the bananafish meant that Seymour loved bananas so much that he couldn't get out of the hole, which was his life, so all that was left to do was die. An interesting thing to consider is that everything we know about Seymour, we really know through Buddy. This is where things get wierd (just here?), because I don't really think that Salinger wanted Buddy to be an omniscient narrator, even if Buddy himself thought he was. I think Salinger wanted to give us the story of the Glasses through a very slanted window, so we would love them before we began to think about them--which, if that is the case, Salinger achieved. But then when the time comes to think about them, things become very complicated, since just because Buddy tells his stories with complete love, he doesn't necessarily tell them with complete honesty--which he himself stresses in Seymour: An Introduction. God, I've gone on far too long. Please somebody shut me up with something brilliant. Brendan ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com