After having just christened my blog with my impassioned championing of English, I’ll let you know that I’m kind of a bad English major. Before this week, I had never read The Catcher in the Rye (also before this spring I had never read The Great Gatsby, and the list of books I haven’t read yet and feel endless guilt over is longer than I would ever have the nerve to tell you). But now it is finished. I won’t ever again have to sheepishly admit that I haven’t read Salinger whenever I’m talking with other bookish types, and I’ll finally be able to talk about this horribly irritating but beautifully soul-crushing book. More