Lambasting Salinger

I can't say that I get worked up about editorials very often, but Leondard Cassuto's piece, "J.D. Salinger: An Unappreciation" (Published in Inside Higher Ed on February 9, 2010) is appallingly bellicose.

Cassuto argues that the "fuss" over J.D. Salinger's death is tired and undeserved. He skewers Salinger for abandoning his fame and choosing to live in seclusion and he seems embittered by an author who decides not to write "enough" for his fans. Cassuto offers a flippant nod to "his right to privacy" but he gives privacy about as much credence as Google. He goes on to bash the ones writing laudatory obituaries as being middle-aged, implying they are sentimental and out of touch.

I disagree with the implication that a writer must write for the world, and that a writer squanders their talent by not publishing until the day they die. Why must a writer, even an extremely talented writer, embrace the world of critics, fan-based pressure and the onus of fame?

One can pick up the works of Emily Dickinson or Gerard Manley Hopkins and read with appreciation; the fact that they chose seclusion over society is no matter to the modern readers--but it may have meant everything to the writers as they worked. Unlike Dickinson and Hopkins, Salinger knew success and then chose to retreat. His decision may have been antisocial, and it may have been his sacrifice for authenticity. I am one of those middle-aged readers looking forward to reading what Salinger wrote after abandoning fame.