Here's what Hungerford said that really caught me: "Is it a love story, or is it a religious story, a mystifying story? Which is it? I am going to argue that it's both." She makes a persuasive case, but the part of the story that really resonated with me was the love story I saw . . . the story of family love, love between siblings and their mother. (I also truly enjoyed the period detail juxtaposed with the modern sense of young adult angst.)

Hungerford's comments at the end of her lecture about specificity and nothingness really caught me. When I was reading the novel, I was struck repeatedly by all the detail that Salinger captured in words - I felt like I was in the stuffy, cramped living room when Zooey was on the floor ranting and Franny was on the couch petting that reluctant lap cat. I was able to smell the paint and the ever present cigarette smoke, see the motes of dust in the beams of sunlight, and hear every strident word in a very particular tone. The details were fantastic, and the attention to detail was what I really liked about this story.

I really thought that Franny must be pregnant and feeling ill in the restaurant. Anyone else come away with that idea? I'm not sure I still believe it - perhaps she was just being ascetic and a little too caught up in her efforts to say the prayer, but... yeah.

I cannot believe she would have slept with Lane. I think she was spiritually sick, sick at heart and also, as you say, someone who had weakened herself with her own asceticism e.g. her inability to eat her sandwich.

I also thought she was probably pregnant. I thought Lane talked about "too long between drinks" and "last Friday night" was too long ago and he couldn't wait until after the game today (paraphrased because I don't have the text in front of me). If he wasn't talking about sex, then I missed that whole path of conversation.

I have to admit that I was getting a bit annoyed when Franny was giving such negative opinions about EVERYTHING in her life. She never gave any alternatives and she didn't explain why her thoughts were better. I have really little patience with anyone who cuts down others' ideas without offering up an alternative. Doesn't matter if it's existentialism, national politics or "Where do you want to go out to dinner tonight?"

The Yale lecture blew me away. I had read this book 15 years ago, not knowing then that it was about anything more than a bad lunch date and an annoying day at home with mom. I read it 3 weeks ago, not knowing then that it was about anything more than discordance of romance and family bickery. I was consistently struck by how nobody LISTENED to anybody. It was so obsessively ego driven. Every thought, every action, every utterance.

Then I listened to the Yale lecture. Flipped the whole thing on its head. What I read as self-absorbed stonewalling was actually connectedness. This was the family language, and they were all speaking to each other, rather directly in fact. It's its own linguistic world, not unlike Tolkein or American Beauty's plastic bag dancing in the street or any seemingly incongruous mashup. Who knows.

I'm going to have to go back and look at some pages and take in some of the comments here. Lots to think about.

Can I just say that I've really enjoyed being a part of this book club? Just knowing that other people were also reading the same pages and watching the lecture made a big difference in how I read and absorbed the material. It was great.

Hey, we aren't done, iamkimiam! We'll discuss what's next for us (from the Yale syllabus) next week.

I'm still contemplating the thought that Franny slept with Lane. I think CathyG and lrig rorriM have that right, but I want to go home and look hard at the text again.

I'm just going to add that I found this novel much sweeter in tone than anything else I've read by Salinger. It has a tremendous sense of sincerity and affection. Franny and Zooey truly love each other, as do/did all the siblings and their mother. Dad is the only one I didn't get a sense of in the family. Is that significant?

I'm also surprised at how religious many of the books in this reading list have been. I didn't expect the spiritual/religous side that Wise Blood and On the Road displayed, never mind this book. Even Lolita had a surprisingly strong moral core.

I echo iamkimiam's sentiments: I've been looking forward to this all month. Thanks for organizing it, bearwife!

Having said that, I haven't had time today to sit down and get into the discussion, so I'm chipping in a few thoughts and hoping that this thread (like the Lolita thread) will keep growing over the next few days.

I'm still contemplating the thought that Franny slept with Lane. I think CathyG and lrig rorriM have that right, but I want to go home and look hard at the text again.

It's hard for me to conclude otherwise from their conversation, especially Lane's inviting himself to sneak up to her room and his remark that a month is "too goddam long between drinks."

CathyG, I always wonder if (in addition to having a spiritual crisis or nervous breakdown) Franny is pregnant, especially since Salinger puts two events so close together: Franny fainting, and Lane revealing that it's been a month (roughly a menstrual cycle) since their last encounter. The first time I read it (as a reasonably naive teenager, no less) I waited for the news that she was pregnant. That chain of events seems like a stereotypical narrative ploy for the dawning realization...

... and I wonder if that's why Salinger used it: because it is a standard narrative/ dramatic scenario, one that he's turning on its head. It's not Franny's physical honor that's at stake of exposure or damage through contact with Lane, but her emotional and spiritual honor.

I wondered about the pregnancy thing, as well, but found this comment... which doesn't actually make any sense to me:

"The main worry of the editors at 'The New Yorker' was the possibility that many readers could think Franny...might be pregnant. Since this would have been a scandal in the mid-1950s, the editors believed Salinger needed to resolve in his mind whether or not she was pregnant, and then reveal that some way in the story. In point of fact, Salinger said in a letter to Lobrano [his editor], Franny was *not* pregnant. So he suggested that a small addition be made in the story; he wanted to insert in one key scene the line of dialogue, 'Too goddam long between drinks. To put it crassly.' If that didn't resolve the trouble, Salinger said, he had two long additions that he would rather not use since they were obvious."

--pp. 182-3 of Salinger: A Biography by Paul Alexander

How on earth does that resolve the suspicion? For me it seems to do exactly the opposite.

Other mysteries about Franny: Why the hell is she with Lane to begin with??????? I don't get that at all. I'm afraid I suspect that it's more of a "the-author-doesn't-get-women" thing (as in, oh, they're mysterious — who knows why they do what they do?)... but then he also has Seymour, earlier, in Bananafish, with an entirely unsuitable mate. (In fact, Muriel and Lane would probably be a great match). So, perhaps it's just his view of romance?

Also a Franny mystery: for a brilliant girl, why is her spelling so bad?

Ummm... another thing I'd like to mention. Mouths. Have you ever seen so much mouth action? In Franny, we have some trouble keeping our mouths closed:

• He began to read it immediately, with his mouth not quite closed.
• She was shaping her cigarette ash on the side of the fresh ashtray the waiter had brought, her mouth not quite closed.
• Lane got up, pushing back his chair, his mouth somewhat open.
• Her brow was beaded with perspiration now, her mouth was slackly open,
• She arched her back a trifle, and with her mouth a trifle open,

All this, in a really short story, mind you... not spread out over pages and pages. In "Zooey," though, we see some slight rehabilitation: "Her mouth was closed, but only just." :)

BUT Zooey himself? And that cigar of his? omg, I begin to wonder what the hell is going on here?

• Zooey, almost direct from the bathroom, with a lighted cigar in his mouth, stood for quite a while at the foot of the couch,
• Zooey's cigar was in his mouth. He revolved it slowly between his fingers,
• He put his cigar in his mouth, and, with his right hand, up in the treble keys, he began to play, in octaves, the melody of a song called "The Kinkajou,"
• His cigar was in his mouth, his hands were in his hip pockets.
• he abruptly stooped, taking his cigar out of his mouth.
• He stood looking out of it, his back to Franny, his hands in his hip pockets again, his cigar in his mouth.
• More than a trifle grimly, he brought his cigar to his mouth and dragged on it, but it had gone out
• He turned back to the window and the view of the school roof and put his cigar into his mouth again-but at once took it out
• he removed the support for his face, picked up his cigar, stowed it in his mouth,
• Next, he took his cigar out of his mouth, but transferred it to his left hand and kept it there.

ORLY? The funny thing is that Zooey specifically brings up Freud in one comment:

Zooey took a cigarette out of the pack and got as far as putting it between his lips and striking a match, but the pressure of thoughts made the actual lighting of the cigarette unfeasible, and he blew out the match and took the cigarette down from his mouth. He gave a little, impatient headshake. "I don't know," he said. "It seems to me there must be a psychoanalyst holed up somewhere in town who'd be good for Franny — I thought about that last night." He grimaced slightly. "But I don't happen to know of any. For a psychoanalyst to be any good with Franny at all, he'd have to be a pretty peculiar type. I don't know. He'd have to believe that it was through the grace of God that he'd been inspired to study psychoanalysis in the first place. He'd have to believe that it was through the grace of God that he wasn't run over by a goddam truck before he ever even got his license to practice. He'd have to believe that it's through the grace of God that he has the native intelligence to be able to help his goddam patients at all. I don't know any good analysts who think along those lines. But that's the only kind of psychoanalyst who might be able to do Franny any good at all. If she got somebody terribly Freudian, or terribly eclectic, or just terribly run-of-the-mill — somebody who didn't even have any crazy, mysterious gratitude for his insight and intelligence — she'd come out of analysis in even worse shape than Seymour did.

So, I find this an interesting sort of tickle, and do wonder what all is being conveyed about Zooey? On the one hand, there's the famous image of Freud himself with a cigar, and there's Zooey, basically analyzing Franny (with Franny on the couch, no less)... but on the other hand, there's Zooey being very specific about rejecting the idea of "somebody terribly Freudian," while betraying himself (?) with such naggingly insistent symbolic mannerisms, in a terribly Freudian way, which is pretty amusing.

Reading the lecture did a lot to deepen the story for me, too. Like iamkimiam, I didn't think there was a whole lot of there there (at least not until the very end--I thought the last few pages were terrific), but Hungerford's interpretation (not to mention her discussion of how to write a critical essay) gave me a lot to think about. Prior to the lecture, I was reading the character's inflections, thanks to all those italics, but I wasn't hearing the affection.

I also figured Franny had slept with Lane, but it didn't occur to me that her issues in the restaurant were caused by pregnancy. But then, listening to Lane would've been enough to make me nauseous, with or without being influenced by an ascetic religious text.

I found Franny hard to make sense of as a character. I can't decide whether it's a fault in the text, or whether Salinger has done a brilliant job of capturing a character at a particularly mutable time in her life, where she's trying on many things - acting, college, dating "the right sort" of boy, the Jesus prayer - and hasn't quite figured out what's comfortable for her yet.

How on earth does that resolve the suspicion? For me it seems to do exactly the opposite.

I agree emphatically: I can't understand how Salinger thought we wouldn't at least turn the idea over in our heads. And I certainly don't see how establishing a month between trysts makes it less likely, not more likely, that she's pregnant; in fact, it seems like the stereotypical time frame for learning that she is. I'd love to hear more about this aspect of the writing and editing process, and why they thought "a month between drinks" cleared it up.

taz, just dropped in to say your comments are great.
1) Yes, the clarification makes the problem worse. Salinger was perverse, wasn't he?
2) The whole cigar thing seems like an obvious play on "sometimes a cigar is just a cigar" trope, doesn't it? And some humor at Freud's expense. As well as being an really overdone stage direction.
3) I think the slack and partially open mouths are about not paying attention. Ditto Franny's poor spelling . . . which I also think is Salinger's way of telling us Franny is smart, but not deeply educated. And in fact somewhat resistant to education, as if her brain were made of Teflon.

Why the hell is she with Lane to begin with??????? I don't get that at all. [...] but then he also has Seymour, earlier, in Bananafish, with an entirely unsuitable mate.

This may be connected to iamkimiam's observation that the Glass family seems on the surface to be bickering and stonewalling, but that it's just their family language. They all grew up in a family where long essays and lectures on seemingly unrelated subjects are understood by all to be not only a mechanism not just for mutual understanding, but a path to bring self and others to enlightenment (see Buddy's letter).

Out in the wilds of the world, though, most people aren't taking on any such responsibility when they spout long chains of chatter; they're just spouting. When the Glass kids grow up and seek mates, they may be seeking to reproduce that fertile, verbal, intense atmosphere, but most people don't argue as a way to reach connection and enlightenment.

So the Glass siblings are trying (to differing degrees) to use their native form of communication with outsiders, and the sound of the communication is reproduced: they're arguing and debating. But the tone and the goal of the discussion is very different.

Also, it seems to me that the Glass kids have a strong desire to assimilate into more conventional society, and seek out mates whom they view as conventional but intelligent. (I know Seymour is more or less outside the scope of this discussion, but YOW Seymour's wife, as seen in several stories and novellas, is a perfect portrait of half-sophisticated convention.)

In Lane, Franny has found herself a potential partner who's right on the boundary of convention. We learn this the first time we meet him, when he's meeting her at the train:

Lane Coutell, in a Burberry raincoat that apparently had a wool liner buttoned into it, was one of the six or seven boys out on the open platform. Or, rather, he was and he wasn't one of them. For ten minutes or more, he had deliberately been standing just out of conversation range of the other boys

Lane doesn't want to think of himself as conventional, as you can see by his insistence that his paper (the possible "lead balloon") was pushing the boundaries of acceptability, but Franny undermines his self-assessment by pegging him as a "section man." She's starting to wake up to the stifling boredom of the conventional man she's sought.

Great comments, Elsa, I think you are absolutely right.

I also think that the genuinely intellectual and sincere communication among the Glass siblings is being strongly contrasted with the phony (shades of Catcher in the Rye) and artificial communication of literary critics, especially those in academia like the professors and section men Lane is trying to emulate.

And it just dawned on me -- probably quite intentional that family name is Glass -- a clear substance that admits unfiltered sunlight. While Lane's last name, Coutell, seems difficult to pronounce and meaningless, except perhaps to represent his inability ("cou" but no "ld"?) to simply "tell" without preface.

I love all of these comments. Really insightful stuff. My God, I want to read this book yet again. Unfortunately, my programme here in the UK has ramped up and is swallowing me whole. I feared that the timing of everything would not allow me to participate as much as I want to! But I'm going to keep checking back and reading and thinking about everything here. With my mouth open and/or closed.

And it just dawned on me -- probably quite intentional that family name is Glass -- a clear substance that admits unfiltered sunlight.

I was squinting pretty skeptically at this idea and thought it was a stretch... until I ran through their names starting with the oldest, most respected and revered, most spiritually certain, and yet the most tragic of the Glass siblings: Seymour Glass.

See more. Glass.

I think you may be onto something there.

Interesting properties of glass: "glass is a supercooled liquid, meaning that it is rigid and static but does not change molecularly between melting and solidification into a desired shape. ... The elements of glass are heated to 1800° Fahrenheit (982° Celsius). The resulting fused liquid can be poured into molds or blown into various shapes, and when cooled, glass is a strong, minimally conducting substance that will not interact with materials stored inside. As a result, glass is frequently used in scientific laboratories to minimize inadvertent chemical reactions and to insulate power lines." *

Perhaps this is why Franny and Zooey are perspiring all the time? They are being molded or "blown into shapes" by their teachings/thoughts/experiences/pain?

As mentioned above, glass is also a barrier, and as I think Professor Hungerford mentioned (too lazy to go back and look), there is the scene with Zooey at the glass window, mesmerized by the girl playing with her dog — but separated, unable to reach out or follow her progression. He's utterly touched by the beauty of the vignette, but ruthlessly separated from it by the same substance that allows him to view it.

Glass is also reflective, as well as brittle and fragile, and historically precious. Glass requires careful handling; once shattered (Seymour) it can never be put back together except by returning it by heat to its liquid (pre-formed - key theme in these stories) state (divine intervention/rebirth etc.).

Oh, and as an item — "a glass," it begins empty and its purpose is to be filled, to hold and convey something. Same with a mug, but Franny Mug, and Zooey Mug don't sound so good. Though I think a case could be made for Boo Boo Mug and Waker Mug.

Also... the dad? Les Glass? Less Glass? Is this is why he makes so few appearances in the Glass stories? I really need to go back and read the ones I haven't read and re-read some of the others. Altogether, they are:

* A Perfect Day for Bananafish
* Uncle Wiggily in Connecticut
* Down at the Dinghy
* Franny
* Zooey
* Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters
* Seymour - An Introduction
* Hapworth 16, 1924

These are in order of publication, I think... in terms of reading order? Dunno, but there is a very nice Glass family chronology here. The first three are in the Nine Stories collection (which I've misplaced or lost or loaned, or it returned to the pre-formed state). Hapworth, by the way, is apparently nearly impossible to find... but I did find it.

Hmm, I think I'm going to be reading a lot more Salinger. Thanks, taz.

As mentioned above, glass is also a barrier

Glass is also an insulator, something that contains and restricts the movement of energy.

I haven't yet figured out what's going on with the bathrooms in these two connected stories: Zooey's long letter-reading bathing in the stagey space of the Glass family bathtub, Franny's sobbing visit to the French restaurant bathroom. Anybody have some insight?

Come to think of it, bathrooms tend to show up in Salinger's Glass family stories as places of respite from the tedious company of outsiders, and also as a place where the Glass siblings communicate in writing. In Raise High the Roof Beams, Carpenters, Buddy brings Seymour's diary into the apartment bathroom and reads it in private, away from the grouchy wedding party. In the bathroom, he finds the titular message to Seymour from their sister Boo Boo, written in soap on the mirror, as is the family custom.

If you slipped into bathrooms, you did well to look up to see if there were any little messages, faintly apocalyptical or otherwise, posted high over the washbowl.

For the Glass siblings, the bathroom is a place of messages, of contemplation, certainly of spiritual connection, maybe even of prophecy.

Great point! It's certainly an intimate connection; one only puts up with bathroom communications from their most beloved, for one thing. The whole bathroom scene with Zooey and Bessie is lovely, because at first it seems so egregious on the mother's part, and then one is irritated with Zooey for his seeming cruelty... but then it becomes clear that it's all very tender.

It's very true that in the two tales with so few settings, the fact that the bathroom is so prominent in each can't be accidental. And in "Franny," now that you've mentioned it, this stands out:

The ladies' room at Sickler's was almost as large as the dining room proper, and, in a special sense, appeared to be hardly less commodious. It was unattended and apparently unoccupied when Franny came in. She stood for a moment-rather as though it were a rendezvous point of some kind-in the middle of the tiled floor.

By the way, I just thought about something today. Franny (Frances) is a would-be or should-be actress in the midst of a nervous breakdown. Salinger apparently was quite a film buff; from his wikipedia page: Lillian Ross, a staff writer for The New Yorker and longtime friend of Salinger, wrote following his death, "Salinger loved movies, and he was more fun than anyone to discuss them with. He enjoyed watching actors work, and he enjoyed knowing them. (He loved Anne Bancroft, hated Audrey Hepburn, and said that he had seen Grand Illusion ten times, and he "had an extensive collection of classic movies from the 1940s in 16 mm prints".

I bet a gazillion dollars that Franny at least glancingly references Frances Farmer, whose arrest and institutionalization was highly publicized. Was this the face Salinger imagined for Franny?

much more interesting information on Frances Farmer here; it's clear she was no empty-headed starlet.

The whole bathroom scene with Zooey and Bessie is lovely, because at first it seems so egregious on the mother's part, and then one is irritated with Zooey for his seeming cruelty... but then it becomes clear that it's all very tender.

And that mirrors Zooey's apparent irritation with the spiritual training he and Franny received from Seymour and Buddy: he's frankly annoyed with them, but also loving and receptive.

That's an interesting idea, taz --- I didn't know anything about Farmer's early life, but she certainly sounds (at first glance, at least), as if she'd fit right in with the Glass kids as a youth. According to the wiki entry, while in high school, Frances Farmer

won $100 from The Scholastic Art & Writing Awards, a writing contest sponsored by Scholastic Magazine, with her controversial essay God Dies. It was a precocious attempt to reconcile her wish for, in her words, a "superfather" God, with her observations of a chaotic, seemingly godless, world.

Thank you, Elsa and taz. Really interesting information. I am also now thinking hard about bathrooms and what their significance may be . . . water? bath - - - room? Surely it means something that Zooey is reading his old letter in the bathtub.

Also, I thought "commodious" was a deliberate pun in the Franny in the bathroom scene.