Re: Holden and Jane, final cut
Tim O'Connor (tim@roughdraft.org)
Mon, 25 Jan 1999 07:26:49 -0500
I apologize for my inexusably delayed response ... many matters of
consequence, as well as a dead Mac display, have limited my involvement
here to mostly housekeeping detail. So....
At 4:39 PM -0500 on 1/20/99, Mattis wrote:
> Well, it looks like we have heard from all the districts and I
> think I had better try to get a refund on my deposit on that house
> in Cornish.
Both versions made me laugh, and made me think quite a bit, perhaps
prompting a bit the odd dreams I had this weekend.
Not so much about "sequels" -- e.g., "where did Holden end up?" -- as about
what it is about a work that raises expectations and that puts the book in
your dreams, your daydreams, or your nightmares.
There's even a song by Tom Waits, from his first album, called (if my
ailing memory serves me) "Martha," about a fellow calling an old flame from
what is probably a bar, seeing where each of them ended up, and deciding
something along the lines of:
Those were the days of roses,
poetry and prose,
and Martha
all I had was you
and all you had was me.
[We have at least one resident subscriber who has taught me all I know
about Tom Waits and who will either correct me or elaborate on it -- and I
say in advance that I welcome his comments.]
> And while I have seen many of you nodding silently at your monitors,
> and can think of only one good explanation for the plethora of
> cigar ends I've been receiving in the mail, I think I might make
> better use of my commended limpidity by addressing these same issues
> in a didactic manner instead.
Nothing intended to be disrespectful here, but I like the creative approach
much better. I always have and probably always will. And you have a
certain style, a flare, here and there.
> why go on and on?
> because self, self expression,
> is like a dead horse
8-) You could have camped out with H.D. Thoreau and exchanged more than a
few thoughts about things with him. Somehow, somewhere, I can see you and
Henry going at it -- certainly at night and certainly around a campfire.
But there are dangers in such things, as Henry himself discovered as a
youth, when he burned down a large section of woodland around Walden Pond.
> It said "Will search for a highly motivating object, such as his bottle,
> by removing three layers of superimposed coverings (9-12 months)". Let
> it be in his merit, then, that I attempt similar task here. </charm>
If you ever offered a koan, there you have one for the ages. Knowing
nothing about babies and their bottles, I can only imagine what
"superimposed coverings" might be.
> The strength of the original question "will Holden ever give old Jane
> a buzz", in my opinion goes beyond speculative fantasies, or fan fiction.
Sure. Among many things in Holden's universe, the unmade call is
practically his calling card, and his call to Jane is in a sense his Holy
Grail. I have always thought that it was the one holdout he had, the one
escape, that, in many ways, he didn't really want to achieve. Because the
idealized so often fails to meet our expectations, and Jane, as you point
out, is nothing if not Holden's idealized, pedestal-ized, "don't spoil
*everything* for me now, Buddy" person. Don't we all carry at least one in
our pockets?
> Another thing, I think our affection for (and in some cases
>identification
> with) Holden comes from more than a condescending form of empathy, a
> head-shaking, smiling, conspiratorial wink. He has, after all, a highly
> tuned set of perceptions and an innocent childlike standard of judgement
> for everything, it seems, except himself.
Completely -- something even here that we don't remark on enough here,
about the unreliable Mr. Caulfield's reporting on his own life. I've
always loved and believed in Horwitz and the ducks, not really doubting
what Holden says about it all. But last night I stood on the edge of a
pond, the water still unfrozen, wondering what was in it and what the
unknown creatures in it REALLY did when the pond froze and the town used
the pond as a skating rink (as it apparently does).
While I thought about this, wondering why I had come out without gloves,
while I shivered and considered going home, out popped something that at
first resembled a turtle, then which submerged almost completely and swam
like a fish toward some other creature that appeared to be floating several
meters away. There was a moment of disruption, and the floater abruptly
disappeared, and the surface of the water returned to a kind of calm, and
my unknown creature vanished. I watched for a while, but my hands were
cold and I had things to do. I thought of the Loch Ness monster and amused
myself at the thought that this little town had its own Nessie -- whatever
it was that I had seen. I thought a little bit about Holden and his ducks
and his dislike of this adult world in which I earn a living, a world that
also makes possible this list and the thoughts it provokes.
Late in the evening, when I pushed a tape into the VCR to watch an old
movie, the television happened to be tuned to the local public-TV station,
on which was a scientific documentary thing about the search for the Loch
Ness monster. The synchronicity was a bit too much for me, and I'm used to
a lot of it.
I spent the night haunted by dreams of mysterious and murky submerged
creatures -- and then took it in my thick head to answer this when I awoke
at six o'clock, ostensibly to write something else. But I couldn't resist
this.
> The whole exercise, including this overly long term paper, was basically
> the result of a slow period in the list. I really have no desire to turn
> it into the bananafishman list, and would rather read a hundred posts by
> all of you than one of mine. I really did think that there would have
>been
> more discussion, though what there has been, has certainly been
> educational and informed. You may recall, that I find your silent nods
> agreeable as well.
I disagree, Mattis. I always look forward with delight to a post or a
message from you. And a "bananafishman" -- go figure. 8-)
> I don't have the sense that we have managed
> to build much of what is called in touchy-feely an "online community".
Sometimes I feel a sense of community, sometimes not. It doesn't
(regrettably) reach the level of a "community" like Echo, where people not
only discuss, but meet regularly and get involved in each other's lives and
get to know each other on many levels. On the other hand, there are times
when "citizens" here pop up with surprising and warm messages, and I
enjoyed both of yours in that spirit.
> The secretary
> will disavow any knowledge of my actions.
Duly noted, and I promise not to comment much. I did my time in Catholic
school, and my thick glasses and good grades earned me a similar reception
and a none-too-pleasant nickname. (I'm sorry this thread brought back
thoughts of the gym and of adolescent brutality. But part of me suspects
that without adolescent brutality, we -- and Holden -- would have no Jane
to idealize.)
Which nickname, I might add, I abhor to this day and can't even repeat in
the guise of anecdote. And given that I have only a short amount of time
to write before running off to another useless day of work, I promise to
refrain from further anecdotes -- at least here, anyway.
--tim