Re: John Romano


Subject: Re: John Romano
From: Scottie Bowman (rbowman@indigo.ie)
Date: Wed Oct 17 2001 - 03:25:17 GMT


    We could go on slicing this forever.

    So far as I understand them, Cecilia/Romano seem
    to be saying that when Phoebe draws her brother up
    short by challenging him: all right, to identify one item
    in the human universe that ISN’T phoney, one item that
    WILL meet his exacting standards – he fails, thereby revealing
    how unconsidered & hollow are his own grand, holier-than-thou
    judgements.

    But we are not, apparently, to mind this: no one can be expected
    to hold up under such a scrutiny. We may be all ugly failures but
    – as at least the clear-eyed & the pure in heart understand – we are
    all also, au fond, truly innocent, stained only by the society that
    has grown up around us & in which we ourselves have grown.

    Cecilia anticipates being called sentimental. Well, maybe not
    sentimental, Cec, but this sounds to me like the noble savage togged out
    in a nice new pair of jeans. Or maybe just bushy-tailed Amuhrr’can
    CanDo.

    I wonder does it reflect Cecilia’s Popish training & my Calvinist one?
    I not only believe in original sin, it seems only too obvious to me that
    there’s something Terribly Wrong With The Whole Shebang.
    (It’s the reality all great writers have made themselves confront & none
    of them that I can think of, from Homer to Hemingway, ever found
    much grounds for optimism.)

    It was this insight, surely, that damned nearly did for Holden. I’m not
    at all confident he ever came out of that sanitorium. Seymour certainly
    never left the hotel. And one glimpse of those ravaged old features
    explains why someone else has never left Cornish.

    For me, it’s the crazed, hilarious gallantry in the face of the ever
    lengthening shadows of despair that makes the Catcher so moving
    & precious. This is the way it is. The singing of hymns & the humming
    of Oms that the Glasses go in for sound as banal & futile as the endless
    replays of Little House on the Prairie that we’re told Salinger himself
    uses to blank out the knowledge that he – like Sergeant X – once found
    so intolerable.

    Obviously – like Gatsby or Huck – you can only produce one Holden
    in your life.

    Scottie B.

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