WHERE IS THE CATCHER?

"Anyway, I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all. Thousands of little kids, and nobody's around -nobody big, I mean- except me. And I'm standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff, I mean if they're running and they don't look where they're going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That's all I'd do all day. I'd just be the catcher in the rye and all. I know it's crazy, but that's the only thing I'd really like to be. I know it's crazy”.

“The Catcher in the Rye”, JD Salinger.


Is it possible to really smile at tenderness, to laugh wholeheartedly at something frank and uncomplicated, without a subsequent sharp blow to the stomach? As adults living in this toxic society of humans, is that really possible?

By the way, I am an idealist! I really am an extremely naïve person, and an optimist… I found. That does not mean I cannot see things for what they are, I do, I painfully do. But the thing is that human’s capacity to love and to care for others seems to be endowed with a profoundness I cannot find anywhere else; and that stays with me, obstinately. That is not to say I do not go through awful bouts of disillusionment, sadness, impotent rage and unbearable heartache, but there is something in me that resists. I happened to notice that I really am not the only one (as John Lennon himself guaranteed).


Funny how John Lennon’s song inadvertently came to mind while starting to write this, since it was Holden Caulfield the person I wanted to talk about. Though I am not sure “funny” is the right word to describe it, the fact that a huge fan of “The Catcher in the Rye” was the one that killed such a sweet man is disturbingly lyrical; but lyrical in the sense of a poem that conjures up hurt and malice to resolve somebody’s despair.

The boy that wanted to just be there while kids were playing, just to guard them, just to allow them to play freely, making sure that no harm would come to them... That is an aspiration that most people can relate to. That is where my optimism comes in, in spite of the fact that this is a society (I purposely refuse to say “world”, the world has nothing to do with this) where innocence is associated with the immediate notion of somebody abusing it, with an adult reaching to the darkest of places to take advantage of it.

But here is the truly perverse part: this abuse is construed as an act somewhat imbued with philosophical value. That is actually at the heart of it, the fact that it is not really considered that objectionable (with time, culture and circumstance being always factored into it). How else could it be, when we live in a community of humans meticulously built on abuse, where basic meanness is dishonestly associated with intelligence?

A society where idolized pop stars, powerful countries, ONGs in devastated regions that they are supposed to be helping, entire networks comprised of judicial officials, big corporations, organized crime, and so forth, abuse the weakest, most defenseless, unsuspecting human creatures over and over again… when there exist such things as organized rings that trade with children for different types of consumption… when the most powerful country on the planet is systematically separating children from the only human beings they know, trust, from the ones that care for them and love them… I ache, I physically ache for a Holden Caulfield.

And I repeat, I know I am not alone in this feeling, I actually know that the vast majority of human beings is equally heartbroken, but the tricky thing is… the dominant minority that perpetuate this, with delusions of superiority, has desperately convinced us  that this is part of “humans’ darkness”. As if such a willful conclusion could suffice as explanation! As if it was anything other than a conscious choice on how to treat others.

Aren’t adults supposed to take care of children? Is everything so rotten and people’s minds so subdued that that notion can actually be considered naïve, utopic?

Let us not be fooled, there is nothing crazy (or foolish) about Holden Caulfield’s fantasy.

I’m just wondering where he is.

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