J. D. Salinger_ A Life - Kenneth Slawenski [24]
Though Salinger may have devoted his writing to exposing and parodying the emptiness of upper-class Manhattan society, it was the only world he knew. It had helped mold him and, despite the most scathing of insights, he had become part of it.
So “Slight Rebellion” was a confession, an explanation of the frustration Salinger was experiencing in his own life at the time. Just as he felt torn between professional directions, he discovered a similar contradiction in his personal life. While Holden Caulfield decries the falseness of trendy society, his creator was sitting in the Stork Club, entertaining a life of pretension and craving the very things he reviled in print.
*The nickname refers to the slick (glossy) paper normally used for the pages of these magazines. The term was used derisorily by many of the literary-minded, suggesting that the content was shallow or glib.
*The year, however, was not without its rejections. In June, Dorothy Olding submitted his story “Lunch for Three,” which had previously been declined by The New Yorker, to Story, where it was again rejected.
*An incomplete version of this story resides at the University of Texas, Austin. It relates the tale of a woman who believes she is her own child. In what is perhaps the most bizarre Salinger story known, Mrs. Hincher’s husband bursts into his wife’s room to find her curled up in a crib, convinced she is a baby. Salinger renamed this piece “Paula” upon its completion and sold it to Stag magazine, where it stalled. The story went unpublished, and in 1961, Stag reported that it had gone missing from its files.
3. Indecision
On December 7, 1941, the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor and the United States found itself at war. Four days later, Jerry Salinger sat at his desk on Park Avenue, attempting to absorb the feelings of outrage and patriotism that swept over him.1 As throngs of men rushed to enlist, he was overcome by frustration. Desperate to contribute to the war effort, he complained to Whit Burnett that his 1-B classification left him feeling helpless, a sorrow tempered by the expectation that “Slight Rebellion” would be appearing in the next issue of The New Yorker.2
Two days later, the U.S. government commandeered the SS Kungsholm. Pressed into military service as a troop transport, the luxury liner saw its stylish furniture stripped from its cabins and discarded onto its pier. Salinger’s beloved story suffered a similar fate. After reevaluating the popular mood following the attack on Pearl Harbor, The New Yorker decided to cut “Slight Rebellion” from its next issue and suspend it indefinitely. The nation was no longer anxious to read the frivolous whining of dissatisfied upper-crust youths.
When Salinger received the news about “Slight Rebellion,” he was crestfallen. But he was also stubborn and immediately instructed Dorothy Olding to submit “The Long Debut of Lois Taggett” to Story. Then, ignoring the slight by The New Yorker, he sent it a new piece, one about “an obese boy and his sisters.”3 That attempt may have been “The Kissless Life of Reilly,” a story that Salinger referred to in a January 2 letter. The New Yorker rejected it (as did Story magazine). Despite its hesitation on “Slight Rebellion,” it claimed to have expected a story about Holden Caulfield instead. Returning the submission, New Yorker editor William Maxwell noted to Dorothy Olding, “it would have worked out better for us if Mr. Salinger had not strained so for cleverness.”4
Salinger, though, was now more determined than ever to break onto the pages of The New Yorker. He became increasingly compliant and finally submitted the Holden Caulfield story that The New Yorker had demanded—a sequel to “Slight Rebellion” called “Holden on the Bus.”5 The story was rejected. This time,