I've just read Will Hochman's thoughts on Joyce Maynard's thing with Salinger. And I don't doubt this is the moment when I'd be advised to jump before I'm thrown. But. For God's sake. Does no one else find the smell of incense overwhelming ? To accomplish what he did, Salinger (sorry, MR Salinger... MR Salinger... Mr Salinger... Strewth...) had to have the toughness of old campaign boots & the barefaced cheek of a sideshow hustler. That's what it *always* takes to write a good book in the first place & then, even more so, to shove it & the other bits & pieces through the corridors of publishing into the uplands of money & celebrity. To treat him now as a lama of unimaginable decrepitude & fragility seems to me both laughable & demeaning to the man himself. Just because some old pop-eyed groupie reappears with memories of yesteryear need we look on it as something like the Rending of the Veil in the Temple ? Scottie B.