J. D. Salinger_ A Life - Kenneth Slawenski [202]
At the infirmary Seymour took eleven stitches but, ashamed of his emotional outburst, refused anesthesia. His control over physical pain may appear remarkable, but the ability is diluted by five references he makes to weeping uncontrollably while writing the letter. He might have sway over his physical body, but emotional pain controls him completely.
To his mother in particular, he confides that he is oddly attracted to Mrs. Happy, who is fifteen years his senior, married, and pregnant, describing her as having “quite perfect legs, ankles, saucy bosoms,” and “very fresh, cute, hind quarters.” The description of Seymour’s premature sensuality is perhaps the most uncomfortable—if not shocking—portion of the letter, yet he goes on at great length to describe his sexual reaction to Mrs. Happy’s charms. If readers are not astounded by the extent of young Seymour’s sexual awakening (an event sure to rob him of what little innocence he still possesses), they are certainly disgusted that he conducts this conversation with his own mother, who will no doubt be appalled at her son’s new preoccupation.
From past stories, readers know of Seymour’s influence upon his family. His incessant lessons have molded the characters of both Franny and Zooey, and after his death, his writings continue to teach Buddy. But through “Hapworth,” readers begin to understand just how oppressive Seymour’s governance actually was. He dominates his family completely, instructing and ordering their daily lives even while he is away. He advises his mother, Bessie, to sing in her own natural voice while suggesting that his father, Les, conceal his Australian accent. Granting his “absolutely last word” on the subject of his mother’s retirement from vaudeville, Seymour uses his precognitive powers to see into the future, warning her to wait until October at the earliest. He instructs Boo Boo to practice her reading and writing as well as her manners and etiquette. To the twins, Walt and Waker, Seymour insists that they practice their tap dancing daily, and if they do not (evidently, they gave Seymour the excuse that they are only three years old, a defense that Seymour called “frankly crap”), he orders them to wear their tap shoes at least two hours a day. He then adds that Waker should practice his juggling.
Seymour then devotes a large portion of his letter to naming an extraordinary number of books that he requests be sent to him from the library. Each title and author he mentions rests within a critique of their merits, and he reflects at length on their qualities and philosophies. Salinger himself loved to talk about literature in this way, and it is no surprise that Seymour should mimic the interests and literary tastes of his creator. Seymour’s book list is so enormous that even if he were able to read them in a single summer his poor parents would never be able to acquire them all.
Seymour’s book list is perhaps the most glossed-over section of the novella because it is seemingly redundant. Yet his enumeration of the books and authors that he loves are not mere requests for reading material at all; they are acknowledgments of things of beauty in the world.
As Seymour’s letter progresses, it becomes increasingly internal, until, at last, he is speaking only to God. His address to God is a natural development, as he has been addressing spiritual topics throughout. In a significant section,