I finished it last night and have realized the teen angst that Holden Caulfield is full of is similar to the housewife angst I am feeling lately. On the other side of my angst is my transformation into a Mom, which is totally like adolescence in itself. Like Holden, I also have a fear of becoming what I despise; a minivan driving, skirt wearing, pie baking, stay at home mom in a bubble, who votes how her husband thinks and has no cares beyond her scrapbook/blog/knitting/kids. Yet as I redefine myself as a mother I can’t help the feelings that come with that. I am appalled at Holden’s dangerous actions. Why doesn’t anyone see how self destructive he is? What allows him to go trop around in New York with hookers and pimps and Jazz players and who is serving him alcohol! Where is his Mother! Is she so blinded by the loss of a child she has disregarded Holden? Poor boy, needs some home cooked pasta and a good old hug from someone who will look in his eyes and just listen for a bit.
I also feel like I want to be the catcher in the rye, keeping the child (my child) from running off the edge of the cliff, erasing the proverbial "F*ck You" from every wall she can see and all the while wondering how anyone makes it through the relentless world and why adults don't see the tragedy of it all and crying at the joyous site of my dearest little one enjoying the carousel. Reliving, reminiscing and simultaneously mourning the loss of childhood through Ella/Phoebe. The story is as old as can be, it happened in the Garden of Eden and the lament of our loss of innocence is both tragic and magnificent.
I say that the book goes beyond teen angst and is relevant to anyone who is trying to redefine oneself during major life changes. I recommend it, it’s a quick read and subtly powerful.
6 comments:
Ok Jen...bit of a meltdown today?
While I don't think anyone should live in a bubble and vote how anyone else thinks (although I would find it very difficult to have a husband who voted opposite me) I DO think there is nothing wrong with minivan driving, skirt wearing or pie baking. And wouldn't it be lovely to have no cares beyond our chosen hobby (whether it be scrapbooking, knitting or oil painting), blogging, or our families...not feel heavy hearted each day with thoughts of war, politics, Darfur, FGM, pedophiles, etc?
What I'm trying to say is maybe this whole concept of a stay at home mom shouldn't get such a bad wrap.
I guess I'm just upset that I'm a cliche sometimes and other times I wonder why no one speakes to my niche without being condesending.
I feel misunderstood and pissed about it and that makes me feel confused and full of angst and on top of it I have a zit - I might as well be 17 again.
Try the Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath - at one point it was billed as the female's version of Catcher. I just read it again this weekend ... the scary thing is, as the main character starts to go mad (ala Sylvia Plath) you can't help but say, "this is mad? then I must be a loon."
Great blog, thanks for stopping by mine. You've joined the list of the spared!
Thanks for the recommendation - I need something to put off what's next on the list ("Uncle Tom's Cabin")
Oh and thanks for adding me to the list.
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