On Fri, Jun 18, 1999 at 07:12:36PM +0100, Scottie Bowman wrote: > '... His eldest sister (who modestly prefers to be > identified here as a Tuckahoe homemaker) has > asked me to describe him as `the blue-eyed Jewish-Irish > Mohican scout that died in your arms at the roulette > table at Monte Carlo ...' > Still. Quite seriously - & trying to stick to my resolution > to avoid frivolity - I have to ask: am I quite alone in finding > this kind of thing embarassing? To discover the chap who > wrote Esme & Holden churning out this contrived, twinkly-eyed, > archly-smiling rubbish is for me the equivalent of watching > a former Olympic runner begging a handout for booze > on skid row. > > No one else? Really no one? I have to confess that I find it charming. But then, I've constructed (Hannibal Lecter-style) a castle in my brain of the house of Buddy Glass and its occupant, and I can see him, unshaven, trying to find the right way of conveying a certain look. And, in the way that dated movie references work, even though they are dated, this works for me. Though of course Esme -- well, to steal a line from Bob Dylan, that story happens on a whole other level. It transcends mere writing and disappears in its loveliness onto the horizon. No, I regret to disagree and say that for me, it's "Teddy" that is the bland and uninteresting narrative. I quite enjoy immersing myself in a Buddy Glass prose home movie. I love the bobbing and weaving and feinting and ducking of the later Salinger, which seems so much more in the control of a writer who knows what he's doing to his reader, playing with us, daring us to close the book in disgust, knowing most of us won't do so. --tim