Bonhams : SALINGER ON THE GLASS FAMILY AND ON DETACHMENT. SALINGER, J.D. 1919-2010. Three early letters, two typed and one autograph, signed (Jerry Salinger and Jerry) to Deirdre Cooney discussing his own writing, including the novel he's finishing, a big (2024)

SALINGER, J.D. 1919-2010. Three early letters, two typed and one autograph, signed ("Jerry Salinger" and "Jerry") to Deirdre Cooney discussing his own writing, including the novel he's finishing, "a bigger wilder book... about the family of the narrator of... FOR ESME * WITH LOVE AND SQUALOR ..." and mentioning Seymour and "PERFECT DAY FOR BANANAFISH" [caps Salinger's]: 1. Typed Letter Signed ("Jerry Salinger") on his life, writing and the Glass family, "it may very well turn out I'm doing a ghost story...," 2 pp, 275 x 215 mm, Windsor, VT, July 10, 1954, portions of original autograph transmittal envelope present, with original photographic print of the snapshot of Deirdre Cooney mentioned in the letter supplied.

2. Autograph Letter Signed ("Jerry") on travel plans and trying to arrange a meeting, 1 p, 256 x 180 mm, ink on paper, Windsor, VT, July 18, 1954, original autograph transmittal envelope present.

3. Typed Letter Signed ("Jerry") about Gone With the Wind, and a long meditation on detachment, and "Pretty Mouth and Green My Eyes," 2 pp, 275 x 215 mm, Windsor, VT, August 23, 1954, original autograph transmittal envelope present (with tears).

THREE FANTASTIC SALINGER LETTERS WITH WONDERFUL LITERARY CONTENT. Deirdre Cooney, raised in a literary family on a farm outside of Northampton, MA, had written to Salinger the summer after her junior year in high school. She had been profoundly affected by Catcher, after it was recommended to her by her heavily Catholic grandmother. He responded with a number of warm, funny and enlightening letters, three of which survive today.

In the first, he provides new and interesting background on the origins and development of the Glass family. He notes that he has been to New York to "tell a couple of close friends that he's getting near the end of a novel." He elaborates, the novel: "is part of a bigger, wilder book. I've been at it for years, in fits and starts, with the usual dry spells and wet spells. By and large, its about the family of the narrator of a story I did called FOR ESME * WITH LOVE AND SQUALOR. His brothers and sisters, all of whom were prodigies at one time. Its told in present time, when two of the brothers are dead. One of them, Seymour, was in a story I did called A PERFECT DAY FOR BANANAFISH. The three other brothers and the youngest sister I've never used. It may turn out that I'm doing a ghost story. I have no idea...."

Although several scholars have theorized a connection between Sargeant X and Seymour Glass, no primary document has so clearly spelled out the relationship. Salinger's expression of the Glass family cycle of stories as part of "a bigger, wilder book" is an interesting glimpse into his process and the way in which he viewed the stories. Despite "getting near the end of a novel," Salinger did not release another book until Franny and Zooey appeared in 1961, collecting the two stories which appeared in The New Yorker in 1955 and 1957 respectively, apparently parts of the novel he was conceiving here in the summer of 1954.

In the rest of the letter, he offers humorous observation and detail on his life, "Home is a small house I bought with the last of the novel money ... I go to see all the local high school basketball and football games ... its a wonder I wasn't voted the most valuable player on the team ... I go to forty movies a week. I shoot pool about three nights a week." He also steadfastly refuses to return a photograph of her, which Deirdre's father had slipped into her original letter against her wishes, "I'm sorry about your picture Deirdre, but those are the terrible risks we take in this world. You can't trust a soul." The original photograph was never returned.

After a short autograph letter a week later, regarding a potential visit, he does not write for a month. He begins by blaming the book, "I reached a sort of impasse with it about a month ago, and I am just now beginning to find my way out, or through." He continues with a quintessentially Salinger passage that would not be out of place in his book work, in full:

"Your letters were a tonic for me when they came, though, and I have them before me now, wondering what I ought to comment on first. I suppose letters ought to be answered right away or not at all. I wonder if I ought to say anything about Gone With the Wind, but its weeks now since you read it. Besides you probably now see the book for what it is, or will in a very few years, and there's really no need to comment on it. The same goes for champagne and Eugene McCarthy and Jane Austen. I feel an urge to say just this though. Don't hate subways and airplanes and elevators and growing up. Just make an effort to see them for what they are - without too much emotional emphasis on them being Good or Bad - and then let go. You're a romantic, pretty Deirdre, and all your life you're going to need as much pure detachment as you can rally. Which advice might get me into hot water with a lot of people. Most people equate detachment with indifference - or worse, clinical coldness. Not so at all. A detached person, for example, ought to see a snake as a snake, and not as a snake-plus-a-shudder. A snake-plus-a-shudder is not a snake, but something the observer added on his own. No one is asking you to like snakes or elevators, but a well-meaning friend would or should suggest that you see them straight before you set up any decisions in your mind. Try not to miss the point. Take subways for a minute. Subways are hot, crowded, often smelly. That can't be denied, but you do have a choice beyond that point. That is to say, it's up to you whether subways are just hot, crowded, and often smelly, or hot, crowded, often smelly, and upsetting. Which may sound as though I'm pushing something like Christian Science your way. I'm not. (Incidentally, though, Mary Baker Eddy, who founded Christian Science, was no fool. Whatever her shortcomings or extravagances, she uses a marvellous fly-leaf quote from Hamlet - the line, "Nothing is either good or bad, but thinking makes it so." - and for that alone she's quite a woman). To get back to the point, which I'm laboring no end of course, do try to get through your teens with as few automatic or prejudiced reactions to things as possible. Don't stew in subways. Don't make personal enemies of elevators. You don't have to agree with elevators esthetically, but don't be personally offended by them. It's such a waste, and such a wear and tear on the metabolism, to say nothing of the psyche."

He continues with a nice paragraph on his composition of "Pretty Mouth and Green My Eyes," which Deirdre had expressed a distaste for. He notes his process, "I almost never work that way...," adding "There are two good things about the story, however many faults it has, but it doesn't seem quite seemly to point them out. The fact that I feel obliged to point them out quite possibly means that the story may well be as poor, or as Tricky, as most people seem to think it is."

Salinger letters with this high-level literary content are exceedingly rare. For the complete story of this excellent correspondence, please see Bonifaz, Deirdre. "Letters from Salinger," The Massachusetts Review, 51:4, Winter, 2010, pp 776-788, a copy of the original issue included with this lot.