First, thanks very much. I must profess ignorance of psychology, which I avoided likethe plague. (Maybe a subconscious fear of discovering something, or a conscious fear of using a word like "subconscious" as lazy shorthand when I'm not up to snuff, or simple recalcitrance unbound.) I won't presume to know decisively which one Esme represents lit-critically. I know to me she is every bit the angelic muse, the feminine ideal in utero, pure potentiality about to reach critical mass, ie. puberty (And is mass ever as critical as it is then?). I don't mean anything lewd by that at all: indeed, speaking very generally, I think there is an overriding sublimation of the sexual (this seems another obvious point, but...) in the Salinger canon. The innocence angle, the place of children, the (obvious and widely believed, at least in this corner) idea that Holden catching the kids tumbling over the side is a way of preserving their youth before the taint of physical desire sends them trembling and hang-dogged into the gray mass of maturity and the crowds of adults. I can't believe I am doing this to you, but I must briefly weigh in on the Seymour as pedophile issue: Salinger's use of Esme, Phoebe Caulfield, the Glasses, Seymour's very encounter with Sybil -- the tangible evidence in the text, combined with every instinct I have as a caring human being, declares the pedophile issue ridiculous and wayward. I'm sure (as I've seen) the facts can be twisted to give it that slant, but really -- I would say read that "lemon-yellow mark" passage I referenced earlier and explain to me how someone (Seymour/Salinger) capable of something so tender and sublime could also be capable of something so vile and evil (anagrams which make me think of "Esme/seem", though I think there's nothing there). Anyway, my point, if there is one: I see Esme as salvation. I see Esme on the seashore. rick