Rationale The work chosen is The Catcher In the Rye by J.D. Salinger, published in 1951, which chronicles the narrator s mental breakdown while in New York. The text type chosen is a poem Holden could start writing after leaving Pencey and continue with throughout the novel. It s fitting as the poem Comin Thro the Rye (Robert Burns, 1782) plays an important role in the work. Holden is also fascinated by his misinterpretation of the poem, which could inspire him to write one of his own, like Allie did on his baseball mitt. I am aiming to explore Holden s thoughts on things and convey his complexity and confusion, not necessarily taking into account all events that occur in the work, but the feelings he experiences. This allows me to explore his character, and knowing that he doesn t realise the reasons behind his feelings, they are only apparent in the contrasts of what he thinks in the novel, which is what I m going to try to capture. The poem is addressing a reader because of Holden s desperate need for company throughout the work. I intend to have variation in the style of the poem to reflect his feelings, strengthening words I feel Holden could write. These include swearwords like sonuvabitch and words like phony that he repeats throughout the novel. The style of writing in the novel is short and effective, which I will mimic in stanzas to create a style and format I feel Holden could use when writing a poem. Task I shut the door. Wondering where the hell I ve gone. Light outside but dark in here, what I do is not your concern. Lying is easy, leaving is easy.
Nobody ever believes me. They can t see it. Pencey, I say. Busy. Lonely. Hot-shots. Full of phonies, and all. Crap, I need something more. D.B., I say. You re selling yourself, the only thing I hate. You re terrific, you re my brother. You re a phony. Backasswards, I say. I think Stradlater s insane. Driving him crazy is justified, that sonuvabitch. I m worried. Jane, I m really worried. Loneliness, I say. I don t care. Ackley is there, and all.
How strange. Hell, Ackley kid. To get rid of that I d like a helluva lot. Or maybe not. Dear Allie, I say. I hold you dear. I see the red and I see the green, they are only what I expect to see. Golfing and by the park, not in my mind. The smartest of them all. I liked you. I like you a lot. Now I m depressed. New York, I say. I m far away from it all, close to what I need. You are a drag lying in your filth but still the best thing for me. Relaxing. Uncomfortable. A break.
Ducks, I say. Where do you go? Are you alive, are you well? You will come back. I wish Allie came back. I wish I could go back to where I was. Phonies, I say. I see your ugly but I want to be near. Annoying and everywhere, am I safe? I will never be like them, it s not an option. All are phonies except for the young. All are phonies except for Phoebe. All are phonies except for Allie. All are phonies.. Jane, I say. She s a call away, and all. She killed me. She really did. The checkers killed me. Her sadness killed me.
I can t reach her. I m depressed. Movies, I say. Nobody hates them more. The only thing I hate. Goddamn phonies, and all. I go but see no point. I see but feel nothing. When I feel, it s like I m shot. It doesn t matter, it makes me depressed. Sex, I say. Horsing around. It makes me nervous I suppose. Jim Steele feels better, yet not good enough. He doesn t like her, but it doesn t matter. I couldn t do it with a phony and he doesn t matter. Sally, I say. I m in lousy shape. Goddamn Sally Hayes! She doesn t understand. I don t like her, but it doesn t matter.
Mr Antolini, I say. You re nice and good. It makes me uncomfortable. Depressed. Nothing helps. Flits don t help. Dear Phoebe, I say. I hold you dear. You depress me, you re smart. You re stubborn, you re generous. I want to still be like you. Your dough is a gift but your wisdom is more. I can stay who I am and no longer be torn. Whatever I do it s made people sore. When I watch ya I m happy and no longer forlorn. Happiness. It s a story I never told. I am not going to tell it now.