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katieo314's review
4.0
This novella is undeniably odd and probably only really worth reading for the real Salingerites (?) out there. The sense of unreality that hangs over it is more pervasive than in the other Glass family works; the others you might doubt, but probably won't disbelieve. All the same, it was fun for me, in the middle of a necessary Salinger-fest, and it does give great insight into the person of Seymour; he shapes so much of the family's later actions but the reader knows him personally almost not at all. After reading this, it makes sense that the loss of him sets adrift the remainder of his siblings and that they sort of go down like dominoes. So, if you're a great lover of the Glass family cycle and haven't read it yet, by all means.
abbygrace226's review
5.0
How does Salinger do this? This was just a letter from Seymour to the Glass parents, yet I was entirely engrossed throughout and satisfied at the end.
littleraincloud's review
mysterious
reflective
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
3.5
trin's review
3.0
Salinger’s famously un(re)published Glass family novella. (An excellent account of this great publishing disaster, recounted by the publisher, can be found here.) It has a tendency to suddenly reappear on, then disappear from, the internet; I myself got a copy in the most delightful black-market fashion. Having struck up a conversation with a customer about Salinger, who had recently died and who I was rather publicly mourning with a (pleasantly profitable) front counter display, we rolled around to the subject of this story, and the customer’s voice dropped, his manner turning clandestine. He admitted that he had a copy, typed out for him by some kind soul from the original New Yorker publication; would I like to read it? Would I! It was, less than a week later, slipped to me under plain manilla covers, and I took it home feeling like some of the original readers of [b:Lady Chatterley’s Lover|7436242|Lady Chatterley's Lover (Barnes & Noble Classics Series)|D.H. Lawrence|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1267739764s/7436242.jpg|3249302] or of, you know. Porn.
Anyway, that was all quite fun. But what of the story itself?
Seriously. I need help with this. I love the Glass family stories so much (as this bit of gushing illustrates), but making this tale fit with the rest of the canon makes my head hurt. My anonymous benefactor felt similarly, when we met up again (beneath a picturesque bridge, or in a shadowy parking garage, perhaps) to discuss the work. The story takes the form of a letter home from camp by a seven-year-old Seymour Glass; the letter however comes to us introduced by Seymour’s brother Buddy, and like much of what we know of Seymour, one must wonder how much of it is authentic and how much shaped by Buddy’s hand. In this particular case, one is inclined to believe that the whole thing is fabricated, as the letter seems impossibly—and even creepily—precocious for someone of Seymour’s purported age. But if that is the case, what is Buddy trying to convey, what ghost is he trying to exorcise by portraying his brother and his family in this way? Without a doubt, Hapworth 16, 1924 is by far the most mysterious and bizarre of the often mysterious and bizarre Glass family tales, and it casts an odd light on the rest of the canon.
“Data! Data! Data!” she cried. “I can’t make bricks without clay.” Which I suppose is my way of saying: it’s been almost a year already! Where’s this vast store of Salinger’s unpublished work that was supposed to appear following his death? Stop tormenting me from beyond the grave, J.D. It’s just petty.
Anyway, that was all quite fun. But what of the story itself?
Seriously. I need help with this. I love the Glass family stories so much (as this bit of gushing illustrates), but making this tale fit with the rest of the canon makes my head hurt. My anonymous benefactor felt similarly, when we met up again (beneath a picturesque bridge, or in a shadowy parking garage, perhaps) to discuss the work. The story takes the form of a letter home from camp by a seven-year-old Seymour Glass; the letter however comes to us introduced by Seymour’s brother Buddy, and like much of what we know of Seymour, one must wonder how much of it is authentic and how much shaped by Buddy’s hand. In this particular case, one is inclined to believe that the whole thing is fabricated, as the letter seems impossibly—and even creepily—precocious for someone of Seymour’s purported age. But if that is the case, what is Buddy trying to convey, what ghost is he trying to exorcise by portraying his brother and his family in this way? Without a doubt, Hapworth 16, 1924 is by far the most mysterious and bizarre of the often mysterious and bizarre Glass family tales, and it casts an odd light on the rest of the canon.
“Data! Data! Data!” she cried. “I can’t make bricks without clay.” Which I suppose is my way of saying: it’s been almost a year already! Where’s this vast store of Salinger’s unpublished work that was supposed to appear following his death? Stop tormenting me from beyond the grave, J.D. It’s just petty.
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