ἴψοι δὴ τὸ μέλαθρον ἀέρρετε τέκτονες ἄνδρες

So. J.D. Salinger. He was not one of my early imprints; he was not a favorite of mine in college; he was a piece of the landscape and I'm sorry he's gone, although anyone has an excuse at ninety-one. The timing was appropriate, in a hindsight-only way—a panel Eric moderated at Arisia left me wanting to re-read the Glass family stories, which were my introduction to Salinger rather than The Catcher in the Rye, although like everyone else in this country I read the novel in ninth or tenth grade. (He was not my first encounter with profanity in fiction, either. That was Ursula K. Le Guin.) I liked the titles he gave his stories, like paintings. The Onion had the best last word, so what I've got is songs.

Belle & Sebastian, "Le Pastie de la Bourgeoisie"

Wouldn't you like to get away?
Give yourself up to the allure of Catcher in the Rye?

PJ Harvey, "Angelene"

Rose is my color and white
Pretty mouth and green my eyes

PJ Harvey, "A Perfect Day, Elise"

He got burned by the sun
His face so pale and his hands so worn

Amanda Palmer, "1.1.94"

There is still time—we could still try
It's very difficult when no one's there to catch you in the rye