What I’m Reading: Franny & Zooey

My friend Rachel had to chose an author and read three of his or her works during our senior year of high school, for our AP English class. I think I chose Gabriel Garcia Marquez, whose Love in the Time of Cholera had shown up repeatedly for me that year, once on Oprah and twice in the movie Serendipity, but it turned out making cholera semi-romantic was as interesting as he got for me, and I deeply regretted my choice.

“Listen, I don’t care what you say about my race, creed, or religion, Fatty, but don’t tell me I’m not sensitive to beauty. That’s my Achilles’ heel, and don’t you forget it. To me, everything is beautiful. Show me a pink sunset, and I’m limp, by God. Anything. Peter Pan. Even before the curtain goes up at Peter Pan I’m a goddamn puddle of tears.”
― J.D. Salinger, Franny and Zooey


Franny & Zooey was on Rachel’s list, and her enthusiasm, later touting it as her favorite book, caused my fingers to linger longer over the spine of J.D Salinger’s famous novel when perusing my local book seller last month.

“Fine,” I said to an unsuspecting audience, my book. “You’re coming home with me.”

As far as novels go, it’s excellent, the story of a woman jaded with her time, who exhibits such existentialism that her fur coat falling off the chair in a run-down diner isn’t a surprise.

Maybe it’s the 1950s and 1960s slang words, or the fact that it takes place in New York City, but I love this novel, and Rachel was right- definitely worth a read.


“And I can’t be running back and forth forever between grief and high delight.”
― J.D. Salinger, Franny and Zooey


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