One of my favourite books that was
introduced to me in class was probably not one I would have picked up on my
own. I can distinctly remember gradually discovering the character of Holden
Caulfield, and the way his school could relate to Ridley. It didn’t matter
where we were supposed to read up to in that book, I was always chapters ahead.
I couldn’t put it down. The story was fantastic. I remember learning about the
controversy surrounding the book, and it being removed from schools. Supposedly
it was the book that motivated John Lennon’s killer. While reading it, fifteen
year old me was waiting for this vulgar awful truth or horrible thing Holden
would do that would just mess a person up. It turns out there was just a
hooker, and some bad language. It was cool how just as Holden was discovering
this abundance of independence, I was going through the same sort of stage. I
wasn’t running around New York, per say, but I was dealing with a lot more
independence than I was used to. In that way, Holden became so much more real
to me.
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