„If I were God, I certainly wouldn’t want people to love me sentimentally. It’s too unreliable.” (Teddy)

In seara asta mi s-a strans sufletul cand am vazut vestea insotita de sunetul vesel al unui nou mesaj pe Twitter. Am cautat pe Google si pentru prima oara imi primeam raspunsul doar printr-o lista live Twitter. Mesaje din intreaga lume anuntau moartea lui.

E ciudat. Nu m-am gandit niciodata sentimental la Salinger si cu atat este mai ciudata senzatia de gol cand am aflat ca a murit. Cum sa suferi la moartea unui om necunoscut? Simplu. Pentru ca nu a existat in viata mea scriitor care sa il simt mai aproape decat Salinger. Stiam ca traieste retras, in pustietate si il intelegeam. Intelegeam fiecare argument pe care il dadea izolarii lui la fel cum Franny, Zooey si Teddy mi-au fost, rand pe rand, revelatii.

Nu mai am cuvinte. Acum vreau doar sa il citesc pe Teddy din nou.

It’s everybody, I mean. Everything everybody does is so — I don’t know — not wrong, or even mean, or even stupid necessarily. But just so tiny and meaningless and — sad-making. And the worst part is, if you go bohemian or something crazy like that, you’re conforming just as much only in a different way. (Franny)

Someone just dumped a whole garbage can of orange peels out the window….They float very nicely….That’s interesting….I don’t mean its interesting that they float….It’s interesting that I know about them being there. If I hadn’t seen them, then I wouldn’t know they were there, and if I didn’t know they were there, I wouldn’t be able to say that they even exist….Some of them are starting to sink now. In a few minutes, the only place they’ll still be floating will be inside my mind. That’s quite interesting, because if you look at it a certain way, that’s where they started floating in the first place. (Teddy)

L.E. J.D. Salinger in The New Yorker in format digital.