J. D. Salinger_ A Life - Kenneth Slawenski [216]
Salinger had been aware of Hamilton’s efforts months before receiving the galley. His sister, Doris, was listed in the New York City phone book and, immediately upon receiving Hamilton’s form letter, had reported to her brother. Salinger had lived through such attempts before, and he dealt with Hamilton in the same way he had Time and Newsweek: He contacted friends such as William Faison and John Keenan, instructing them to ignore Hamilton’s requests. He then wrote to Hamilton directly, expressing his severe disapproval of the project and the methods being used to piece together the details of his life. He accused Hamilton and Random House of breaking into his privacy as if he were “suspected of criminal activity” and was especially indignant that Hamilton had badgered members of his family with the phone book scheme. In the end, Salinger admitted that he could not prevent Hamilton and Random House from pursuing the biography if they were determined to do so. But he made it clear that he was more than displeased with the project—that it caused him pain. “I’ve borne all the exploitation and loss of privacy I can possibly bear in a single lifetime,” he said.19
Hamilton wrote back to Salinger and apologized for harassing his family. He further attempted to soothe Salinger’s feelings by assuring him that the biography would be respectful and that it would end at 1965 with the publication of “Hapworth.” Salinger was unmoved. On May 25, 1986, Hamilton and Random House received a letter from Salinger’s lawyers demanding that any quotations from unpublished letters be removed from the text. Random House instructed Hamilton to reduce the number of direct quotes taken from Salinger’s personal letters. The result was a second galley, produced that September, in which Hamilton paraphrased many of the direct quotations used in the first version. A copy of the new galley was sent to Salinger, who still resented being exhibited through his own words—or what he now considered misleading versions of his words. He called the changes made by Hamilton “cosmetic” and on October 3, 1986, formally applied for an injunction against J. D. Salinger: A Writing Life.
Litigation would require Salinger to travel to New York and give a deposition for the court, a distasteful experience that Random House hoped might dissuade him from pursuing the lawsuit. Yet, on October 10, Salinger and his lawyer, Marcia Paul, arrived at the law offices of Satterlee Stephens in Manhattan’s Helmsley Building, where they took their places at a table across from Ian Hamilton and the Random House lawyer, Robert Callagy.
At sixty-seven, Salinger appeared in fine health. He was meticulously dressed and conducted himself with what Callagy later described as an aristocratic air. But his surface polish hid the upset that he was actually feeling. Under the table, his hands shook uncontrollably, and his lawyer held them firmly throughout the proceeding.
Callagy questioned the author in a rapid-fire manner designed to break his resolve. As usual Salinger was reluctant to answer, and at times he tried to inject his own sardonic humor into his responses, but Callagy would have none of it. He barraged Salinger with question after question. How many copies of The Catcher in the Rye had been sold that year? Over 400,000. What was Salinger’s annual income? Approximately $100,000. Had he continued to write after 1965? Yes. Had any of these writings been published in the past twenty years? No.
Callagy then produced one of Salinger’s letters that had been used by Hamilton in his manuscript. Did Salinger recognize the letter? To whom was it written? When