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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