footnote


Subject: footnote
From: Scottie Bowman (rbowman@indigo.ie)
Date: Mon May 29 2000 - 04:03:07 GMT


    It's not widely known that it was only through my own
    personal intervention that Perfect Day became publishable
    at all. I pleaded passionately with Salinger to remove some
    of the sleazier sexual elements &, thank goodness, he finally
    saw some sense.

    Originally, the story was called A Perfect Day for Banana Feet.

    It recounted, of course, the final day of Seymour Shoes
    who, because of his overwhelming obsession with feet, has
    remained unable after some years to consummate his marriage
    with the lovely Muriel. For poor Seymour, life is dominated
    by images of feet & toes. All day long, nothing but feet:
    big, widely planted, stabilising feet; plump, motherly feet
    squeezed into tight court shoes; the poignantly tortured feet
    of ballerinas; the forbidden, malodourous feet of young men;
    the fragrant, extremities of girls.

    For Seymour, the climactic scene in all literature is the moment
    when Crusoe finds the footprint in the sand. This underlies
    one of his secret pastimes: observing the bare feet of swimmers
    & collecting their ever more perfect imprints on the wet strand.
    This is what he is doing when he enounters Sybil a rather
    tiresome little girl who is, nonetheless, the possessor of
    the most exquisite little tootsies. Playing her along, he is
    presently enjoying an absolute feast - toes, insteps, ankles,
    Seymour denies himself nothing.

    Which pleasure is, naturally, followed by the most terrible,
    despairing guilt. On his way back to the hotel, this guilt
    assumes psychotic proportions & in what is now a fully
    paranoid state he becomes convinced that through her innocent
    glance a woman sharing his elevator is indicating her awareness
    of his viciousness.

    The final straw arrives when he observes that his sleeping wife
    has been varnishing her fingernails. 'Always the same,' he says,
    as he lifts the gun. 'The bitch. Always the fingers. Never
    a thought for me. Never the toes. Never once. Not one lousy toe ...'

    Scottie B.

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