It’s been five years since I read the biography Salinger by David Shields and Paul Salerno (2013), so going into this book, I had forgotten some of Salinger’s quirks. Namely, I had forgotten that his anger and odd fixations were a result of the PTSD which he suffered following his time in WWII. Reminding myself of these things before reading these stories might have swayed my opinion somewhat—though I doubt it.
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Overview of the Story Collection
By the end of this book, I had determined that only two of the nine stories were worth reading: “The Laughing Man” and “De Daumier-Smith’s Blue Period.” After reminding myself of Salinger’s depression and obsession with childhood innocence (in a non-sexual way), however, I added two more: “A Perfect Day for Bananafish” and “For Esmé—with Love and Squalor.” The rest of the stories were to me either pointless or annoying.
To put it as I wrote in my notes: “Many elements are just plain icky.” Of course, these short stories include the normal negative elements you’d expect from Salinger, the incessant language from some characters, the alcoholism, the depression, and the suicide. But the icky factor comes into play with his relationship to children—not just child characters, but little girls who have a deep, emotional relationships with grown men and little boys whose thoughts are darkly disturbing.
When not writing from a child’s perspective, Salinger more otherwise writes from a woman’s—something I detest, and which I hope most readers with common sense also detest. I found myself just begging for a story written from a grown man’s viewpoint, which is why I loved “De Daumier-Smith’s Blue Period” and will tolerate “For Esmé—with Love and Squalor.”
One last note about the stories in general before diving into them individually regards the titles. I don’t know Salinger’s exact process for short-story writing, but it often felt as though he first thought up a ridiculous title and then—while under the likely influence of strong alcohol—he tried to figure out how to wrangle the title into a depressing story involving either children or death, or preferably both. It’s an unlikely process, but that how it felt sometimes as I read.
Comments on the Stories Themselves
1. “A Perfect Day for Bananafish”
I’ll be honest: I was ready to throw the book out the car window as I read this first story. Seymour is a grown man about whom we know very little, besides the fact that his mother-in-law and wife think he’s gone crazy. He visits and swims with a little girl on the beach in a way that would otherwise have appeared lewd, had we not the fuller Salinger Arch in mind.
Having forgotten about that arch, though, I had determined as I read that if there was even an inkling of “Lola” vibes in this relationship between a dude in his 30s and a 6yo child, I would definitely have tossed it out the window, and then written my Congressman. Thankfully, there were no such vibes, so I finished the story. I felt that the ending was a cheater’s way to conclude a story about a crazy person—almost as bad as some stories saying “it was all a dream.”
This was not my favorite story, and it was a poor way to begin. But sad to say, it’s not the worst of the lot.
2. “Uncle Wiggly in Connecticut”
This one was close to the worst. Why in the world did Salinger need to write this story from a drunk woman’s perspective? It’s a story of alcoholism, anger, and child neglect (not to mention a touch of racism) all to depict the sorrow of loves lost. He could have approached this from so many angles!
This is definitely not my kind of story. I do wonder, though, if the L. Manning Vines book they referenced on p.32 is real—it sounds about 100x better than “Uncle Wiggly”!
3. “Just before the War with the Eskimos”
Going into this collection of stories, I knew that Salinger had a penchant for terrible language, but up until now it’s been relatively light. Enter Franklin, the filthiest character in the book.
The story did contain some clever lines, like this:
“I never in my life would’ve thought you could be so small about anything,” said Selena, who was just angry enough to use the word “small” but not quite brave enough to emphasize it. (42)
I just can’t tell if it’s good writing or bad that makes my face contort at the end of a story with a strong “What the heck did I just read?” in my mind. What was the point of this story? I won’t pretend to be philosophical enough to know or appreciate it. Again, not for me.
4. “The Laughing Man”
It was proper timing for Salinger to follow the atrocious “Eskimos” story with this, a thoughtful, clean, and plot-driven tale. It’s the best segment in the book so far, and the only thing that’s kept me reading (well, this and the fact that I was locked in a car for a long drive).
Coming from the perspective of a 9yo boy, “The Laughing Man” is the story of a storyteller, the “Chief” and bus driver for a group of young baseball players called the Comanches. This leader of boys loves to tell the kids a story before driving them back to their normal lives, and he’s chosen as his serial character a grotesque white man living in China who fights the evil French but always wins. His stories seem to ebb and flow with the emotions of the Chief’s own life, so when he loses his love one day, “The Laughing Man” takes a dark turn.
5. “Down at the Dinghy”
Salinger here delivers yet another story with 3 women and a little boy. Up to this point, we still haven’t read a thing from the perspective of a grown man, unless we count Chief’s Laughing Man stories! Was he mentally incapable of writing from his own viewpoint?
This is the story of a boy who wants to run away and a mother who’s not too quick to stop him. The child character is too old for his age, and the story has a racial bent, so this one came across as more annoying then profound.
6. “For Esmé—with Love and Squalor”
This is the first story in the collection that comes from the perspective of an adult male, yet even so, Salinger insists upon speaking for and about children, in this case a 13yo girl. I have a 13yo daughter myself, so I had my eyes open on this one, and despite his emphasis on innocence, I felt that Salinger once again ventured dangerously close to “Creep” country here.
Despite his emphasis on realism, he failed to keep this story realistic. This orphaned heroin speaks far too above her age—and while I’m sure the experiences of war aged kids incredibly fast in some areas, I don’t think sociological insight generally came with the territory. I can’t picture any 13yo say, for example:
My mother was quite a passionate woman. She was an extrovert. Father was an introvert. They were quite well mated, though, in a superficial way. To be quite candid, Father really needed more of an intellectual companion than Mother was. He was an extremely gifted genius. (97)
Those things aside, I loved this concept of writing a story for someone rather than about or even to. It’s a classy concept and one well worth pursuing in future projects. The biography stated that Salinger left many of his works unpublished, private and for his own enjoyment. I wonder if some were written as gifts for others as well.
This is the third-best story of the bunch, though the second half contains some heavy language. It’s the closest I’ve yet seen to Roald Dahl‘s work. Both men wrote from and about their War experiences, and while Dahl could be very dark indeed, he often tinged his stories with humor, or at least snideness, which makes his stories a comparative pleasure to read.
7. “Pretty Mouth and Green My Eyes”
This is by far the worst, most vulgar, most pointless short story of the book—and likely the worst published short story I have ever read. And that includes Ben Shapiro’s stories!
8. “De Daumier-Smith’s Blue Period”
And then he follows that up with what I think is the best story in the collection. Incredible.
This clean, colorful, plot-driven, inquisitive and introspective story was a real shock to me—probably because it was clean, colorful, and plot-driven and because it starred a grown man who wasn’t about to kill himself or get intimate with a child! It was a delight to read, and if all his stories were this strong, I’d be hounding my bookshop for more Salinger works. I loved this clever line:
The fact is always obvious much too late, but the most singular difference between happiness and joy is that happiness is a solid and joy is a liquid. (155)
9. “Teddy”
I didn’t expect Salinger to end this collection with a bang, so I guess in that way, he didn’t disappoint. Once again, he takes us into the mind of a child, this time a young man who believes himself to be the reincarnation of a Hindu (or perhaps Buddhist) leader.
It was interesting to me, because it’s a question I had about Buddhism and reincarnation while traveling in Bhutan. Why do all the great reincarnations happen to be Asians born into Buddhist families? Why aren’t there many Black or White leaders in Hinduism or Buddhism? The answer comes from the boy who describes why he was born American, that in his previous life, he had been an advancing Brahmin who fell from grace after he met a woman! So coming back as a human was great, but as an American—well that was a punishment. He adds:
It’s very hard to meditate and live a spiritual life in America. People think you’re a freak if you try to. (188)
I also appreciated this line:
Poets are always taking the weather so personally. They’re always sticking their emotions in things that have no emotions. (185)
This is another story fixated on children and death, and the ending totally annoyed me. It’s one of those unpublished works he probably should have hung onto, though it’s hard to expect much different from someone as disturbed as Salinger became.
Conclusion
Overall, this was a hard book to read and finish, though the highlights of those few stories that weren’t about death or angry women made it worth my while. As short stories go, there are plenty of other authors I’d choose to read before J.D. Slinger, but if you’re wondering what undiagnosed PTSD looks like through the lens of a creative outlet, he might be worth checking out.
©2026 E.T.