Re: Carrousel as rye field
citycabn (citycabn@gateway.net)
Thu, 30 Sep 1999 08:13:57 -0700
Everything okay at Mission Control? Only five posts in the past 24 hours.
But, but, there's *this* one from Paul Miller, which counts as five hundred.
Take a bow, Paul.
--Bruce
-----Original Message-----
From: Paul Miller <pm@midsouth.rr.com>
To: bananafish@lists.nyu.edu <bananafish@lists.nyu.edu>
Date: Wednesday, September 29, 1999 6:54 PM
Subject: Carrousel as rye field
Phoebe gets on the carrousel at the end of CITR and suddenly the carrousel
is the rye field with the kids playing in it. Only this time instead of
Holden, (Hold-on), wanting to catch any kids that fall, even though he is
afraid of Phoebe falling as she reaches for the gold ring, he decides not to
do or say anything because if they want to grab for the gold ring,(grow up),
you have to let them.
Holden at the end here is no longer the catcher or savior christ figure. In
fact in a way he is more of a buddha figure sitting there feeling so damn
happy, having a satori like experience of acceptance of change and
impermanence very much the same insight as Siddhartha sitting under the
Bodhi tree. Suddenly ,as it rains like a bastard on Holden, the carrousel
changes from rye field to the great wheel of birth and death with Phoebe,
Holden, Salinger, and all the rest of us holding on and going round and
round. ((( )))
Somewhat speculative I know but I do know this much. Those literary critics
who can't see the carrousel as the rye field are going to miss a little too
much.
Oh and it's no accident that the song "Smoke gets in your Eyes" is playing
on the carrousel. Here are the words to the song for those who don't know
it.
THEY ASKED ME HOW I KNEW....
MY TRUE LOVE WAS TRUE?
I OF COURSE REPLIED, “SOMETHING HERE INSIDE,
CANNOT BE DENIED”,
THEY SAID SOMEDAY YOU’LL FIND,
ALL WHO LOVE ARE BLIND,
WHEN YOUR HEART’S ON FIRE, YOU MUST REALIZE,
SMOKE GETS IN YOUR EYES,
SO I CHAFFED THEM AND I GAYLY LAUGHED,
TO THINK THEY COULD DOUBT MY LOVE,
YET, TODAY, MY LOVE HAS FLOWN AWAY,
I AM WITHOUT MY LOVE,
NOW, LAUGHING FRIENDS DERIDE,
TEARS I CANNOT HIDE,
SO I SMILE AND SAY, “WHEN A LOVELY FLAME DIES.....
SMOKE GETS IN YOUR EYES.”
Paul Miller