How do you mourn a writer who died this week, but, for all intents and purposes, died 45 years ago?

She was a girl who for a ringing phone dropped exactly nothing. She looked as if her phone had been ringing continually ever since she had reached puberty.

          - A Perfect Day for Bananafish
This second paragraph, from J.D. Salinger's first and finest published story, may be the most succinct statement he ever made on his own career. He was a writer who for a ringing phone dropped exactly nothing. To him, the enormous fame he achieved was an irritating by-product of his work and he resented it.

Although he lived to be 91, his exposed life, was quite brief: 17 years, from 1948 (with the publication of the short story quoted above in The New Yorker,) to 1965, when The New Yorker devoted almost its entire issue to a 25,000 word short story, "Hapworth 16, 1924."

It is difficult for those of us who enjoy books and literature to understand why an author would be repulsed by the attention his work receives. Salinger went so far as to insist his agent burn his fan mail.

There is a presumed contract between people who create art and the public that consumes it that there is some sort of quid pro quo going on. There is an expectation that the creator of the art owes us something more than their art; that there's a wink-wink which we think entitles us to a certain amount of voyeurism. Voyeurs, alas, are people who have neatly worked it out for themselves that somehow such contracts only require their own signature.

Salinger's decision to retreat behind a cloak of almost total privacy seems quite prescient. We now live in a world that is filled with people who cannot agree to sign that other half of the contract fast enough, a world of celebrities who seem to be famous merely for their public lives. (Three words: Kate Gosselin's hairdo. One word: Brangelina.)

In "A Perfect Day for Bananafish," the central character of the story, Seymour Glass, is ascending a hotel elevator dressed in a robe and sandals, having just returned from the pool. A woman gets on the elevator.

"I see you're looking at my feet," he said to her when the car was in motion.

"I beg your pardon?" said the woman.

"I said I see you're looking at my feet."

"I beg your pardon. I happened to be looking at the floor."

"If you want to look at my feet, say so," said the young man. "But don't be a God-damned sneak about it."

"Let me out here, please," the woman said quickly to the girl operating the car.

The car doors opened and the woman got out without looking back.

"I have two normal feet and I can't see the slightest God damned reason why anybody should stare at them," said the young man.
And thus, a posthumous lesson in privacy. J.D. Salinger's life was about his words and his work. It was never about his feet. And let's quit being such God-damned sneaks about it.
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For reasons one should probably file under "It Sounded Like a Good Idea at the Time," a British company called Tank Books is publishing books in the same type of packaging reserved previously for cigarettes.  Flip top box, cellophane wrapper, 'n everything.

The works represented include Joseph Conrad's "The Heart of Darkness," Leo Tolstoy's "The Death of Ivan Ilych" and "Father Sergius," as well as Ernest Hemingway's "The Snows of Kilimanjaro."

For collectors who want them all, there's even a metal carton.

"Try one and you'll be hooked," says the website.

It should be noted that there are no scientific studies on the dangers of second-hand reading.

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From 1926 to 2008, the Yale University Library published the biannual Yale University Library Gazette, which featured a nice but variable assortment of articles on Yale collections and libraries. In 2009, the Gazette was superceded by a new journal series published annually by the Library, Yale Library Studies. Each volume in the series will focus on a particular aspect of the Yale libraries; the first, just released, collects eight essays on Yale library architecture, edited by Geoffrey Little and with an introduction by University Librarian Alice Prochaska.

Since the press releases cannot radiate immodest praise, I will step in and radiate some myself. Wow! The book is a triumph. The Gazette's weak points were a lack of cohesion and fairly modest production quality; it had a limited appeal to anyone without serious devotion to the Yale Library. This certainly cannot be said for the new series, judging by this volume. Robert A.M. Stern, Dean of the Yale School of Architecture, contributes the main essay, a superb overall history of the Yale Library's buildings. Other essays focus on particular libraries or renovation projects, all thoroughly researched, extensively color-illustrated, and footnoted. They seem less like a collection of journal articles than a unified history, and the finished product comes as close to being a page-turner as any collection of academic essays I've read.

The Yale Library is fortunate to serve both as a world-class research library and as a series of welcoming, bookish spaces that continue to encourage students. I wholeheartedly recommend this book to anyone who has ever enjoyed the YUL in either capacity, or to anyone interested in the history of library architecture writ large. Having read this all too quickly in one sitting, I will be eagerly awaiting the 2010 volume of Yale Library Studies, as I imagine many will. Unlike the Gazette, this is a series people will want to collect.

Jonathan Shipley

Jonathan Shipley is a freelance writer living in Seattle. He’s written for the Los Angeles Times, Gather Journal, Uppercase, and many other publications.


The New York Times has his obituary (with original reviews of his work, an appraisal of his work, and a walking tour as you follow in the footsteps of Holden Caulfield) and MSNBC has a report. The New Yorker has an archive of all the stories he published in the magazine and a piece about what The Catcher in the Rye meant and means. The Paris Review points to an old interview with Robert Giroux who had a chance to be the first to publish J.D. Salinger. NPR remembers the author and Time Magazine has a story about his passing. Included in the piece is the magazine's original review of The Catcher in the Rye and the cover image of September 15, 1961. Jesse Kornbluth, for The Huffington Post, remembers the man, as does David Levithan in The Wall Street Journal. USA Today got quotes from T.C. Boyle and Garrison Keillor about Salinger, The Guardian gets quotes from Joyce Carol Oates, Dave Eggers and others, and The Daily Beast excerpts Joyce Maynard's memoir, in which she describes her affair with Salinger. Maynard has also posted a brief statement on her website. Joshua Ferris remembers Salinger and so does Wes Anderson for The New Yorker and Sam Anderson for New York Magazine. Publisher Roger Lathbury remembers a book deal with Salinger gone sour for The Washington Post. The newspaper in Concord, New Hampshire, the Concord Monitor, now has a special section devoted to Salinger and the New York Public Library says goodbye. So does the Austin Statesman. The piece highlights the Salinger papers held at the Harry Ransom Center at the University of Texas - Austin. Tom Leonard recalls visiting Salinger in New Hampshire last year and hearing what are likely Salinger's last words to the mediaThese men were in hopes of catching Salinger, interviewing old Salinger schoolmates and the like. They might have listened to, on their travels, Salinger-related rock-n-roll. Last year, Kevin Flynn was "Desperately Seeking Salinger" for NHMagazine.com and very well could have met him. In the 1960s, Jim Sadwith did. You can learn of his story on The Story.

A brief aside: Don't forget Will Smith's monologue about The Catcher in the Rye in the movie Six Degrees of Separation. Don't forget that Salinger's son was Captain America. Don't forget to take notes on a lecture done at Yale University by
Professor Hungerford about Salinger's Franny and Zooey. Don't forget the ongoing thoughts of bringing his novel to the silver screen and don't forget Jim Lehrer's wishes in regards to interviewing the author.

For more on the life and work of Salinger, Dead Caulfields would be a good place to start, along with this site. To read some of his uncollected work, go here and go here to read letters people wrote to J.D. Salinger. They won't get a reply, but they may be able to read his unpublished work if there is, in fact, something in his safe. Either way, the residents of Cornish, New Hampshire, will undoubtedly respect the man's privacy, even in death. 

Hide not your tears but don't be a phony mourning his death.

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These are, given the boundaries of second-hand journalism, the facts about Irving Leif , 62, of Jersey City, New Jersey.  

On January 17th, 2010, Mr. Leif had $14 to his name.  He lived in an apartment in Jersey City, New Jersey, which cost him $1,892.00 per month. Therefore, the possibility of eviction for Mr. Leif had become somewhat of a given.

What is also certain is that he owned a fairly impressive collection of books.  3,000 volumes. It took him 40 years to collect, and among its treasures was the most complete set of the Mother Earth pamphlets published by the early 20th-century anarchist, Emma Goldman.

Mr. Leif had been living off a family trust fund, but Bernie Madoff's Ponzi scheme had consumed all that, except for, it is assumed, the $14.00.

Among Ms. Goldman's many observations about the human condition, her most precise, and one which Mr. Leif may have assumed as his own personal rationale in amassing a book collection beyond his means, was, "If I can't dance, I don't want to be part of your revolution."
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The world of consumer electronics was rocked today by the announcement of Apple's iPad. 

Steve Jobs, in whose frail body resides the robust soul of P.T. Barnum, was full of superlatives at today's announcement.  And the video on Apple's website speaks about the product in terms usually reserved before passing out Kool-Aid in equatorial climes.

Phil Schiller, director of Worldwide Marketing for Apple describes the iPad as "The best web-surfing experience, the best email experience, the best photo and motion picture experience ..."

Hold it, Phil.  Rewind. There's a word you left out: "book." 

There is no doubt that the new iPad will have a book reader, and Apple has been striking deals with publishers and is making Amazon and its Kindle nervous, as in that sort of "Oh God, my diapers seems to be leaking" sort of way.

But here's the real story behind today's announcement that all readers of Fine Books Magazine and this blog need to think about. 

Beware the shiny new bauble.

As if receiving direct communications from the Ghost of Electronics Baubles past, I opened my desk drawer last night and there was a Newton MessagePad.  I bought one the day it went on sale.  I powered it up and scribbled a note on it with my stylus.  (The Newton was famous for misreading handwriting.)  I wrote: "Should I buy a new Apple tablet-thingy when it comes out tomorrow?"  The Newton converted my scrawl into oracular handwriting, "What, are you nuts?"

I have a general rule of thumb when it comes to consumer electronics or computer software: never buy the first release of anything.

Many of you are sitting there trying to decide what sort of book-reader you're going to buy.  Kindle?  Barnes & Noble's nook?  Apple's iPad?

Here's a suggestion: calm yourself and don't make a decision until at least the end of the year when all of the e-dust has settled.  The answer will be revealed to all of us once at least one "rev" (revision) of the iPad has been released. 
 
(My friend Bruce wonders what the name will be for the version with more memory: MaxiPad?) 

Until then, I must tell you that I discovered the absolute greatest reading experience of all time the other day!  In fact, I already own hundreds of them and I hear they are readily available in stores.

It's called a book.

Jonathan Shipley

Jonathan Shipley is a freelance writer living in Seattle. He’s written for the Los Angeles Times, Gather Journal, Uppercase, and many other publications.


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...Then you could heave upon it the largest book in the world. You'd need more than yourself, however, to lift it. You'd need your family, extended even. At the British Library it takes six people to hoist up the largest book in the world, the Klencke Atlas, a tome that was presented to King Charles II. It's now 350 years old and the public has never seen it with its pages open. That's about to change, however, as the British Library will display it in a map exhibition opening soon.

The Guardian has more, here.
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Ever see the effects of rubber cement on an old book? Scotch tape? Spilled coffee? It's not pretty. For some basic advice on how to handle such problems, try Joyce Godsey's Book Repair for Booksellers (April, 2009). Godsey, a bookseller herself, describes it as "A handy guide for booksellers and book collectors offering practical advice on how to improve the quality and look of your books and ephemera ... Clear, easy to follow directions for repairing books at home or in the shop. Includes torn pages, shaken spines, library pockets, bookplates, stickers, crayon, writing, insects, leather care and much more. 88 pages." It's one for the reference shelf. 
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It may be that everyone has a Blackberry or an iPhone these days, but the classic typewriter is still the epitome of cool for many writers. In this month's auction report, Ian McKay reports on the six-figure sale of Cormac McCarthy's antique Olivetti. Last year, English writer Frederick Forsyth told the BBC why he prefers his steel-cased portable. And now, flipping through my latest Levenger catalog, I spy David McCullough's Typewriter Bookend, a miniature reproduction of the "second-hand, 1940s Royal" that the Pulitzer prize-winning historian uses every day. It comes with a "short but original work of David McCullough's titled "A Bit of History about my Typewriter."

As for me, I'm not indifferent to the literary mystique of the old-fashioned typewriter. I have a standard Underwood (which looks a lot like the one pictured here), circa 1930, on which I have banged out (and I mean Banged) little notes and labels. For all else, the Macbook must do.
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Today the eagerly-awaited Catherine of Cleves exhibit opened at the Morgan Library in New York City. A lavishly illustrated Dutch manuscript, it is thought to be one of the most beautiful in the Morgan's collection. Commissioned around 1440, this illustrated prayer book contained Catherine's daily devotions. The original two volumes have been disbound for this exhibit (and preservation treatment). The New York Times ran an intriguing short piece on the manuscript last week.

For those of you readers not in NYC between now and May 2, when the exhibition closes, an online exhibit is available. It is the digital facsimile of the exhibit catalogue, showing all 157 illuminated miniatures and including textual notes for each page.

Amazing stuff!