J. D. Salinger_ A Life - Kenneth Slawenski [209]
The Ransom incident had fateful repercussions. Feeling defiled, Salinger resolved to ensure that none of his correspondence would ever fall into the hands of collectors again. He asked Dorothy Olding to destroy every letter he had ever sent to her, an invaluable correspondence dating back to 1941. Olding dutifully agreed and in 1970 destroyed more than five hundred Salinger letters, erasing a lifetime of communication and creating gaps in literary history that may never be filled.8 Salinger may also have made similar requests to other friends and family at the same time. Also disappeared is Salinger’s correspondence with William Shawn in its entirety, and no one has ever laid eyes upon what could arguably be the most valuable of Salinger’s communications: the frequent letters he sent to his family, especially to his mother.
From 1970 onward, Salinger, with the staunch support of Dorothy Olding, dedicated himself to smothering every disclosure of personal information both past and present. But Salinger’s obsession with his privacy had the opposite effect. Rather than fading from public awareness, he became even more famous for his withdrawal. Intentionally or not, every act he employed to remove himself from the glare of public scrutiny only served to enlarge his legend. “I know I am known as a strange, aloof kind of person,” Salinger admitted. “I pay for this kind of attitude.”9
By 1970, American society had been in upheaval for years. Countless cities had suffered devastating race riots, and the war in Vietnam had so polarized society that violent street clashes were nearly commonplace. Friction between the races, the sexes, and the generations defined the era. In such an atmosphere of absolutes and opposites, it is interesting to speculate how any new Salinger writings would have been received. These were years that valued action, often reckless and even violent, rather than soft contemplation or subtle revelation. It is difficult to imagine that readers of the time would have had patience for gentle carousel epiphanies or the preaching of overly enlightened genius children.
Yet The Catcher in the Rye continued to gain popularity as it was handed to a new generation. This generation viewed its parents with intense suspicion and railed against “the Establishment” as vehemently as Holden rails against adult compromise and phoniness. In addition, many of Salinger’s personal values, which had seemed so odd a decade before, were now embraced especially by the younger generation. The era experienced a brief return to the land with an emphasis upon simplicity as thousands of young people retreated to rural America to live and work communally. A new interest in organic foods and holistic remedies went hand in hand with a rising awareness of the environment. Zen Buddhism and various Hindu philosophies became enormously popular, and there was a general surge of spiritual exploration in a quest to deal with the uncertainty of the times. For those who embraced such trends, Salinger appeared to be something of a prophet, and his lifestyle, so curious only years before, now seemed to personify authenticity. Salinger’s reaction was very much the same as ever: he simply wanted to be left alone.
Although Salinger was no longer publishing, his life continued to be driven by an unchanging routine. He awoke early and, after meditation and a light breakfast, retreated to his study to write. He enjoyed gardening and developed an intense interest in organic foods and homeopathic treatments. He kept abreast of goings-on at The New Yorker and continued his friendships with William Maxwell and William Shawn. His studies in Eastern philosophies were constant, and he maintained his associations with the Self-Realization Fellowship and the Ramakrishna-Vivekananda Center in New York City.
Within Salinger’s routine whenever he visited New York was a pilgrimage to the Gotham Book Mart. A New York institution since 1920, the Gotham was often frequented by famous authors, and Salinger’s presence met with an indifference that he found refreshing.