Reading Camille's posts, I again have the feeling there's something of a split on this list between what I would call the `expanders' & the `refiners'. Camille - among, I think, many others - seems to want to open out the readings of Salinger into areas of understanding where words are basically inadequate & where a kind of appeal is made to the underlying but finally inexpressible humanity we all share. (Perhaps the `cubism' that was recently discussed is a reflection of what desperate measures may be necessary to catch those fugitive essences of things.) We sort of *know* what he's getting at - at least `bananafish' know - & it gives a sense of belonging to a band of aspiring brothers & sisters. I'd regard these as generous, expanding instincts. But I'm afraid my own instincts belong with another tradition altogether. This is the curmugeonly, pernickety approach which arises from the fact that ideas can be truly realised only with words. And which insists we try all the time to narrow it down, get it exact, make it surgical, throw out the extraneous, hunt forever if need be - up the Amazon & down the High Street - until we put our hand on one word, the mot juste, the one that slides sweetly into the breech ready for firing. This is the one, after all, that will lodge the idea for good & all in the mind of the reader. I think Salinger - like most good writers - was often trying to capture the ineffable. And I think too he was a natural refiner. I only wish he didn't insist on taking me with him on the hunt - or try out his various experiments (with capitals or lower case or alternative word choices or whatever) on the rest of us while he's looking. It feels like sloppiness. Scottie B.