“I prefer stories about squalor.” “About what?” I said, leaning forward. “Squalor. I’m extremely interested in squalor” … “Are you at all acquainted with squalor?” —J.D. Salinger, “For Esmé, with Love and Squalor” (1950) Salinger’s Glass family were my sort of people. I wanted to be Franny—super bright, wearing a sheared raccoon coat with a gold-plated swizzle stick in the pocket. Mensa even. I just had to practise a little, get the vibrato right and I could be the youngest fiddle student at the Juilliard School of Music. Franny and Zooey belonged to the weird, dysfunctional family, with an elder…
Subscribe to get access to all online articles
Already a member?
Sign in to read this article