Lindsay's review
Franny and Zooey by J.D. Salinger
One day last year I was hunting around the web for some factual anecdotes about J.D. Salinger drinking his own urine and stuff like that when I came across this semi-legit Salinger biography site. Just a straight up old fashioned Angelfire page, big boring blocks of Times New Roman and a randomly placed graphic here and there. But it had a lot of great information about all of Salinger's fetishes and neuroses, and I was really digging it all until I got to this little parenthetical aside where the guy had written, "Franny and Zooey (I have never and doubt I ever will meet someone who has read that book twice)." What! Reading that made me so angry, and I wished I could have debunked his theory right there on the spot, but I had only read it once myself.
I think I started reading Franny and Zooey for the first time the day my dog died (Chester, who, if we're keeping score, was my all-time favorite dog). I was 16 or 17 and while I liked it well enough, I remember having this ...more
I think I started reading Franny and Zooey for the first time the day my dog died (Chester, who, if we're keeping score, was my all-time favorite dog). I was 16 or 17 and while I liked it well enough, I remember having this ...more
I also thought that Franny and Zooey was like a Catcher in the Rye for college when I read it last year. Maybe I'll read it again to debunk that jerk's claim too!
Buddy? Zooey's the man. Tougher talking, but more tenderhearted. The only bad thing I can thing of abt this book is that Wes Anderson got carried away with the concept in his post-Rushmore ouevre. Wait till Buddy gets a phone before you consider his proposal
