Thursday, September 24, 2009

catcher in the rye






"You know that song 'If a body catch a body comin' through the rye'? I'd like—"


"It's 'If a body meet a body coming through the rye'!" old Phoebe said.
 "It's a poem. By Robert Burns."


"I know it's a poem by Robert Burns."


She was right, though. It is "If a body meet a body coming through the rye."
 I didn't know it then, though.


"I thought it was 'If a body catch a body,'" I said.
 "Anyway, I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game 
in this big field of rye and all. Thousands of little kids, and nobody's around—
 nobody big, I mean— except me. And I'm standing on the edge of some crazy cliff.
 What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff—
 I mean if they're running and they don't look where they're going
 I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. 
That's all I'd do all day. I'd just be the catcher in the rye 
and all. I know it's crazy, but that's the only thing
 I'd really like to be. I know it's crazy." 





~ JD Salinger
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