(no subject)
Jan-Willem Kuil (wereldkuil@hotmail.com)
Fri, 21 Nov 1997 10:21:23 -0800 (PST)
Amsterdam, november 7 th 1997
Hello reader,
I admire JD Salinger and I would like to read all his work. Until now
I only read the officially published books.
I would like to check if anybody could send or e-mail me the
following articles containing JD's 'missing stories'. In Holland
(I live in Amsterdam) they are not available in the libraries. Reason
is
that almost all the magazines in the list below, where published during
or around
the second world war (1940-1945) when Holland was occupied by the
Germans.
Apart from the fact that they terrorized and robbed the country, the
Germans
didn't let any American magazines in.
The article published in "the new yorker" in 1965 happens to be missing
in
the university library in Amsterdam. I couldn't find it in Utrecht
either.
Maybe somebody has (some of) the stories and could send them to me.
My name and adress:
Jan Willem Kuil
Berenstraat 13 C
1016 GG Amsterdam
E-mail to "wereldkuil@hotmail.com" is most welcome
Thanks a lot!
Kind regards,
Jan Willem
THIS IS SOME TEXT AND THE LIST OF ARTICLES I FOUND ON INTERNET:
This is a list of JDS's "missing stories". All were published in various
magazines as noted. They are relatively easy to find if one just looks
through the microfilm copies of the magazines at one's local library.
Please don't ask me for copies.
The early ones were, I'm sure, a strong encouragement for JDS to keep
writing. The WWII ones brought in some much needed cash. Then came the
books and all. Finally, there was sort of a goodbye with Hapworth....
There may be other missing stories out there. These are the only known
ones, at least among the Bananafish Mailing List, but that doesn't mean
that there are certainly no others. Go See Eddie, for instance, was
rediscovered after years of being lost in the obscure Kansas Review.
If you would like to offer your own comments or criticism, please send
me some email.
I'm sure JDS wouldn't want these texts exposed, they're not so much
missing as buried, but some really aren't that bad. I'm sure the author
disagrees, but it's valuable for a reader to see where all the real meat
came from.
The Young Folks
Story 16, March-April 1940, page 26-31
Salinger's best early story. Do try to find a copy of this one!
Go See Eddie
The Kansas Review, December 1940, page ??
reprinted in: Fiction: Form & Experience
The Hang of It
Colliers, July 12 1941 , page 22
Short (one page!) and overly sweet. The only saving grace of this thing
is JDS' use of "spelled-out language", but that hardly makes it worth
looking at.
"Don't say that to me again. Or I'll kill ya. I'll akchally kill ya,
Pettit. Because I hatecha, Pettit. You hear me? I hatecha!"
Personal Notes on an Infantryman
Colliers 110, December 12 1942, page 96
Another war story with a twist ending about an older man who wants to
join the army.
"Then Lawlor said something to me that sent a terrific thrill up my
back. He bent over slightly and leaned across my desk. "I want action,"
he said. "Can't you understand that? I want action."
The Heart of a Broken Story
Esquire 16, September 1941, Page 32
This one's a lot of fun. It's a first-person account of what the author
thinks is wrong with writing fiction, but it's neither grumpy nor
sarcastic. It's sincere.
"That was the beginning of the story I started to write for Collier's. I
was going to write a lovely tender boy-meets-girl story. What could be
finer, I thought. The world needs boy-meets-girl stories. But to write
one, unfortunately, the writer must go about the business of having the
boy meet the girl. I couldn't do it with this one. Not and have it make
sense."
The Long Debut of Lois Taggett
Story, September/October 1942, page 30
reprinted in: Story: The Fiction of The Forties
The Varioni Brothers
Saturday Evening Post 216, July 17 1943, page 12-13
Soft Boiled Sergeant
Saturday Evening Post, April 13 1944, page 18
Originally to be titled Death of a Dogface
Here, a somewhat gruff army man tells of a friend and mentor in the
army.
Both Parties Concerned
Saturday Evening Post 26, February 26 1944, page 14
Originally to be titled Wake Me When it Thunders
Last Day of the Last Furlough
Saturday Evening Post, July 15 1944, page 26
A story about John "Babe" Gladwaller and Vincent Caulfield at home
before the go overseas to war. Babe talks about war and about his
feelings for his girlfriend, Frances, in a way very reminiscent of
Seymour.
"He doesn't know, thought Babe, lying in the dark. He doesn't know what
Frances does to me, what she's always done to me. I tell strangers about
her. Coming home on the train, I told a strange G.I. about her. I've
always done that. The more unrequited my love for her becomes, the
longer I love her."
Once a Week Won't Kill You
Story, November December 1944, page 23
A very conversational piece about a man leaving for World War II.
Everyone's always sitting heavily or something, not one of JDS' best.
"Aunt--Uh--There's a war on. Uh--I mean you've seen it in the newsreels.
I mean you've heard it on the radio and all, haven't you?"
"Certainly," she snorted.
"Well, I'm going. I have to go. I'm leaving this morning."
"I knew you'd have to," said his aunt, without panic, without
bitter-sentimental reference to "the last one." She was wonderful, he
thought. She was the sanest woman in the world.
A Boy in France
Saturday Evening Post 217, March 31 1945, page 21
A sad story about a young man preparing for the night on the front lines
in France. He reads a letter which says "Dear Babe" from a young girl
named Matilda so we can assume it's about Babe Gladwaller.
"The boy raised his dirty, stinking, tired upper body, and from a
sitting position, without looking at anything, he got to his feet.
Groggily he bent over, picked up and put on his helmet. He walked
unsteadily back to the blanket truck, and from a stack of muddy blanket
rolls he pulled out his own. Carrying the slight, unwarm bundle under
his left arm, he began to walk along the bushy perimeter of the field.
He passed by Hurkin, who was sweatily digging a foxhole, and neither he
nor Hurkin glanced with any interest at the other."
Elaine
Story 26, March-April 1945, page 38-48
This Sandwich Has No Mayonnaise
Esquire 24, October 1945, page 54
reprinted in: The Armchair Esquire
The Stranger
Colliers, December 1 1945, page 18
Babe Gladwaller and his little sister, Mattie go to visit Vincent
Caulfield's girl after the war to tell her how he died. Get this one.
This is yet another story I wish I had written.
"I'm sorry I have to be a stranger with hay fever and on my way to lunch
and a matinee. It seems lousy. Everything seems lousy. I didn't think it
would be any good, but I came anyway. I don't know what's wrong with me
since I'm back."
I'm Crazy
Colliers, December 22 1945, page 36
An alternate take on the beginning of Catcher in the Rye, with Holden
getting kicked out of "Pentey" and talking to "old Spencer" and his
sisters, Phoebe and Viola. Notable most in its differences from Catcher
and the included painting of Holden Caulfield.
"I kept seeing myself throwing a football around, with Buhler and
Jackson, just before it got dark on the September evenings, and I knew
I'd never throw a football around ever again with the same guys at the
same time. It was as though Buhler and Jackson and I had done something
that had died and been buried, and only I knew about it, and no one was
at the funeral but me."
Slight Rebellion off Madison
The New Yorker 22, December 1946, 82-86
Again as in Catcher, Holden tries to convince Sally to run away with
him.
"Look, Sally. How would you like to just beat it? Here's my idea. I'll
borrow Fred Halsey's car and tomorrow morning we'll drive up to
Massachusetts and Vermont and around there, see? It's beautiful. I mean
it's wonderful up there, honest to God. We'll stay in these cabin camps
and stuff like that till my money runs out."
A Young Girl in 1941 with No Waist at All
Mademoiselle 25, May 1947, page 222
The Inverted Forest
Cosmopolitan, December 1947, page 73
reprinted Cosmopolitan, March 1961, page 110
Blue Melody
Cosmopolitan, September 1948, page ??
Originally to be titled Scratchy Needle on a Phonograph Record
A Girl I Knew
Good Housekeeping 126, Feb 1948, page 37
reprinted in: Best American Short Stories of 1949
Originally to be titled Wien, Wien
A wonderful story, highly reccommended. It seems, characteristically,
rather autobiographical. The narrator flunks out of college and is sent
to Vienna to study German and, again charicteristically, doesn't get,
and doesn't want to get, the girl. At the end the story suddenly shifts
gears and zooms into the future, which doesn't work too well with the
rest of the piece.
"Probably for every man there is at least one city that sooner or later
turns into a girl. How well or how badly the man actually knew the girl
doesn't necessarily affect the transformation. She was there, and she
was the whole city, and that was that."
Hapworth 16 1924
The New Yorker, June 19 1965, page 32
Watch out, this one is LONG! Very reminiscent of Seymour, an
Introduction.
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Last Modified: 03/11/96 , sfoskett@mass-usr.com
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