It is a day of heartbreak in both the world at large and my own life. J.D. Salinger, my favorite writer and greatest literary inspiration, died at the age of 91. There are letters saved on my computer which I wrote to him months ago and now will never send. "For Esme With Love and Squalor" has been my favorite short story since I first read Nine Stories, and I have been reading Franny and Zooey all week, coincidentally. Last year I ended up spending an entire college interview describing my theories on the writing of Salinger, and catcher in the Rye, of course, is so well loved it need not be expounded upon. J.D. Salinger was a man who saw the beauty in innocence more clearly than anyone I have ever encountered. His work was bitter, broken, delicate, and true. He changed my life in immeasurable ways, as well as the lives of thousands of others, and if the future has any sense at all it will make sure his writing is always alive.
On a different but possibly related note, it has been snowing all day and about half an hour ago the sky went dark, the snows and winds picked up to a blizzard like level of mightiness, and there was snow thunder. Yes, that's right-- resonant thunder in the middle of a snowstorm. That is the second snow thunder this winter, which has not occurred at any other point in my memory. It looked apocalyptic in the most biblical of ways, until five minutes later the sky lit up, the snow resumed a regular rate of falling, and the thunder stopped. I believe the cosmos was mourning the death of Mr. Salinger with the same fervor that I am.
Lets hope for less tragedy tomorrow. Perhaps I will acquire, by an act of divinity, a pie of some variety (note: if you are reading this, that "act of divinity" could be YOU!).
Love,
GennaRose
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