Yeah. that's how the news entered my inbox this morning - "dead" in the subject line. At 91 years, the legend J.D. Salinger has died.
Recently I pledged to read the printed word - you know, good ol' fashioned books and such. Meg announced it and, like many things that Meg announces, I found myself instantly connected to the idea of detaching myself from the screen and digesting the paper. I love books. Our house is full of them. So full in fact that recently we had to reorganize the bookshelves - a project which, once taken on, is completely absorbing and hard to complete. I suddenly find myself drawn into the books I've read and loved, read and hated, and bought and haven't read yet. So, amid this project, I settled on reading J.D. Salinger's Franny and Zooey. It was a beat-up paperback that I thought I'd read and discard (we were weeding out books too - my dining room table has been covered in stacks of books to give away or sell (since the merge we've doubled up on a few books) ever since). Ha. I found myself totally enraptured with this thin little story. Of course, that's not the book he's famous for - that book would be Catcher in the Rye - a book which (gasp!) I've still never read. Despite being an English major, I skipped over most of the books everyone reads between the ages of 10 and 20. I'm still gradually going back to them. Anyway. J.D. Salinger is gone, but his books are still here to read and love.