Holden’s Idea of Happiness: Birds, Boats, and Beings Preserved in Glass Boxes
Holden Caufield in The Catcher in the Rye is unapologetically and undoubtedly disillusioned by the “adult” world around him. The source of his disdain is seemingly people and their persistent phoniness: Ackley’s patheticness, Stradlater’s pretentiousness, or Mr. Spencer’s self-proclaimed wisdom –to name a few. Except for a special minority, Holden ruthlessly lays out the faults of those around him to the reader (who he believes to be of the special sort). While it can be easy to think Holden a cynical, hateful person who only sees the bad in the world after his constant critiques of those around him, one's impression of him must change as they witness his visit to a particular place: the Natural History Museum.
As soon as Holden enters, his tone to the reader abruptly shifts. He doesn’t call the museum lousy or phony, or any other descriptors the reader has been accustomed to him using. Instead, he likens being in the museum to a refuge from rain, as if it were “the only nice, dry, cosy place in the world,” (Salinger, 120). With a voice devoid of his natural criticism, he vividly describes his childhood memories of the museum experience: model animals standing still in natural habitats, an Indian skillfully catching a fish, and birds forever flying southward. The best thing, however, “was that [in that museum] everything always stayed right where it was…You could go there a hundred thousand times and that Eskimo would still be just finished catching those two fish, the birds would still be on their way south, the deers would still be drinking out of that water hole, with their pretty antlers and their pretty skinny legs, and that squaw with the naked bosom would still be weaving that same blanket,” (Salinger, 121).
From Holden’s reverent tone, which the reader has only been exposed to in rare mentions of Allie or Old Jane, Holden reveals his true nature. His anger at the world is not an intrinsic hatred for the things and people around him. It is a frustration at the changing nature of not only those around him, but of Holden himself and his inability to escape what others call "growing-up". When talking about his museum visits throughout the years, his frustration dissipates into melancholy. “Nobody’d be different,” he says, “The only thing that would be different would be you. Not that you’d be so much older or anything. It wouldn’t be that, exactly. You’d just be different, that’s all,” (Salinger, 121).
Holden’s criticism arises not from his hatred of society, but his despair for himself. His source of happiness –seemingly unchanging, innocent things like Museum exhibits, Jane’s checker kings in the back row, or Allie himself– by nature cannot exist in this adult world. His longing for the permanent is impossible, and so he is regrettably, inescapably disappointed by the world. Despite shallow impressions, Holden is neither a cynic nor misanthrope; he is simply a boy who longs for things to stay the same.
Hi Ella! This is very interesting take on Holden's societal criticisms, attributing them to his desire for things to remain unchanged rather than an inherent hatred for almost everything. I believe I agree to some extent, especially considering his mental crisis seems to at least partially stem from his grief over Allie's death, and that is a clear example of something that changed (for the worst). I can also understand your argument that he simply dislikes notions of the "adult world," where some things change. However, can Holden's desire for things to remain the same explain his hatred for everything he criticizes? Can it explain why he liked the nuns so much; they don't seem to be particularly unchanging?
ReplyDeleteHi Ella,
ReplyDeleteI really like and agree with your take that Holden's reactions to adult society is simply a reflection of his wish to keep the way things use to be as a child. The idea that the things that were kept in the museum and literally untouched is really interesting to me, and its so similar to how he views Allie that I'm surprised I just glazed over that so easily. And I think that its very interesting how things that he thought were "uncorrupted" like Jane or Mr. Antolini show to him that they aren't what he remembers them as and throws him deeper into his cycle of hating the changing world.
Hello Ella!
ReplyDeleteI totally agree with your ideas here! Holden's true complaint with society is that it is ever changing. Adults are perfect examples of the change people go through, and it makes him awfully mad throughout the book. I feel like the biggest thing he's angry about is the fact that change happens to kids. Especially because he wants to catch kids in the rye fields. It's like he wants to save the kids from their inevitable deaths to change.
I love the way that Holden reminisces about the class trips to the museum, and I fully agree that this is a primary symbol or ideal in his mind, the illusion of a world where everything is held in suspension (people don't die or grow old or become phony). I realize that the "routine" he's referring to--with Mrs. Aigletinger taking the class to the museum on Saturdays--is in many ways quite distinct from my memories of class trips as an elementary student (some of them to this very museum!), but the ways he evoke the memories of these class trips (feeling like you're in the only cozy spot on earth, surrounded by friends and classmates, sinking into the seats to enjoy the show) resonates with me strongly, and I'm sure it resonates with any reader who has been through elementary school. So while we all might or might not share Holden's particular fondness for this museum and the place it holds in his life, it's easy to relate to the way these memories take hold, and how easy it is to feel nostalgic when pondering the past (while also realizing, of course, that "we are different in some way," and that the glass case is ultimately an illusion).
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