J. D. Salinger_ A Life - Kenneth Slawenski [87]
On November 19, Salinger wrote to thank William Maxwell for reconsidering “Slight Rebellion.” In contrast to his 1944 note, in which he had stipulated terms for his story “Elaine,” he told Maxwell that he would be happy to make any changes to the story that the magazine saw fit. He informed the editor that he was placing final touches on a seventy-five-page novella called “The Inverted Forest” that he had been working on since August and anticipated finishing in a day or two. As soon as he did, he would adjust “Slight Rebellion” for publication. Perhaps dazzled by his rising prospects, Salinger also notified Maxwell that Dorothy Olding was sending a new story for his approval, one entitled “A Girl in 1941 with No Waist at All.” This new piece would arrive at Maxwell’s office without demands, and it is doubtful that the editor ever perceived any irony in its submission.3
When “Slight Rebellion off Madison” appeared in The New Yorker on December 21, 1946, it was tucked away in the back pages among the ads. Salinger did not care. He had now been published by The New Yorker—his fondest dream since he had begun to write seriously. Salinger instinctively sensed that his belated New Yorker debut would alter his career. When he turned twenty-eight in January 1947, he finally left his parents’ apartment on Park Avenue and struck out on his own, moving into a barren loft in Tarrytown, New York, a space he described to Elizabeth Murray as “a little, made-over garage which my landlady rather irritatingly calls the studio.”4
The new surroundings were stark but affordable, and, despite his irritation, Salinger recognized it to be the perfect atmosphere for an aspiring artist. Its location in Westchester County was near enough to the city yet isolated enough to ward off its distractions. For someone who often sought a refuge in which to write, Salinger appreciated his cell-like space in Tarrytown as the first place where he could completely immerse himself in his craft, away from the scrutiny of his parents, the demands of war, and the diversions of Greenwich Village. Tarrytown was, in short, his own inverted forest.
At the same time that Salinger was moving house, The New Yorker rejected “A Young Girl in 1941 with No Waist at All.” But Salinger remained undaunted. He was determined to enter the fold of what he had previously mocked as The New Yorker’s “little clique of Hemingways” and immediately, in January 1947, sent it another story, not “The Inverted Forest,” as one might have assumed, but a far shorter manuscript entitled “The Bananafish.” This effort sparked some interest in the magazine’s editorial offices but contained major flaws. On January 22, Maxwell wrote to Salinger’s agent about the new submission:
We like parts of “The Bananafish” by J. D. Salinger very much but it seems to us to lack any discoverable story or point. If Mr. Salinger is around town, perhaps he’d like to come in and talk to me about New Yorker stories.5
Salinger had received such mixed messages from The New Yorker before, and they had always angered him. He saw himself writing unique stories of a new kind and had always hoped that the magazine would recognize his innovative approach. When it did not, he tended to ignore its decision and take his work elsewhere. This time was different. Instead of concentrating on the magazine’s inability to perceive his accomplishments, he decided to swallow his pride and work with it. Within a short time, he was sitting in William Maxwell’s office.
What The New Yorker recognized in Salinger’s story was his stylistic precision, especially his gift for dialogue, which flowed naturally and was pleasing to the ear. Maxwell’s dilemma lay in the fact that no one at The New Yorker could figure this new story out. It appeared to be excellently written but was at the same time unintelligible. The story began with a young man named Seymour Glass sitting on a Florida beach, entertaining a young girl named Sybil Carpenter. Maxwell and Salinger decided that it needed extensive revision in order to be understood. So Salinger took