The Catcher in the Rye Symbolism, Imagery & Allegory s1

The Catcher in the Rye Symbolism, Imagery & Allegory Sometimes, there’s more to Lit than meets the eye.

Holden's Red Hunting Hat

The first time we read The Catcher in the Rye, we noticed that this red hat kept cropping up, but actually, we didn't really know what to do with it. At first it just seemed a little ridiculous. After all, Holden just berated Mr. Spencer for being the kind of old guy that "can get a big bang out of buying a [Navajo] blanket," and here he is a few chapters later admitting that he himself gets "a big bang out of that hat." At least on this level, the hat hints that Holden has the same characteristics he judges in others. But at this point, that's not really news to us. There's definitely more hidden in this hat.

Then we had to look at certain specific key passages, starting with the first time we see the hat. Holden tells us (towards the beginning of Chapter Three) that he bought the hat in New York that morning after he left all the fencing equipment on the subway and pissed off the entire team. So we know he's feeling particularly vulnerable at the time, though Holden would never admit to such a state as vulnerability.

Take a look at when Holden wears the hat, and when he doesn't. He puts the hat on at important moments – writing the composition about Allie's baseball mitt, staring at himself in the mirror and pretending to be tough after Stradlater punches him, yelling "Sleep tight, ya morons" down the corridor, etc. He takes it off when he's on the train, going to a bar, in hotel lobbies, and so forth. So while he's all about the hat in private, he's embarrassed or lacking confidence to wear it in public. We even get hints to this at the start of Chapter Thirteen ("I took my red hunting hat […] and put it on – I didn't give a damn how I looked"), the end of Chapter Sixteen ("I took my old hunting hat out […] and put it on. I knew I wouldn't meet anybody that knew me"), and the start of Chapter Twenty-One ("I'd already taken off my hunting hat, so as not to look suspicious"). But despite his embarrassment, the hunting hat becomes an important part of the way Holden sees himself. He admits it's "corny," but he personally "like[s] how it look[s]." It's a people shooting hat, he declares. When he's wearing it, he can be as insular and tough and as unique as he wants. That's why it's such a big deal when Phoebe puts it on his head at the end of the novel; not only is she giving back to Holden, but she's demonstrating that she loves him as the individual that he is – corny red hunting hat and all.

Ducks, Fish, and Other Wildlife

Holden is always worried about where the ducks go when it's winter. What happens to them? Do they leave? Do they freeze to death?

In one sense, the ducks might symbolize resurrection – they always return in the spring. But you might have some difficulty arguing this, this Holden is more concerned about the ducks dying than he is excited as the prospect of them returning, and also, it's December, so spring isn't really on anyone's mind right now.

More likely, we can work the mortality angle here to explain Holden's obsession. You know the scene where Holden goes to the lagoon and looks for the ducks, and then starts thinking about his own death, and then ruminates on Allie? Exactly. That means all these things are related.

As a boy who has experienced death on a personal level more than once (with both Allie and James Castle), Holden is plagued with thoughts of death. While others may find solace in religion (like the two nuns, or the Quaker student that he knew at school) or romanticized logic (like the cab driver who insists that, obviously, mother nature would take care of the fish – and the ducks), Holden does not.

What seems to bother him so much about mortality is that he equates death with disappearing. It isn't just that Allie's dead, it's that he's disappeared under the ground. When Holden crosses the street and begs Allie not to let him disappear, he's in a way asking not to die. If Holden indeed expressed a death wish earlier (he mentioned jumping out the window, his thoughts about the atomic bomb), then this scene is the counter to that. As much as he might drop the suicide thought in moments of anger and pain, he doesn't really want to die; he's actually incredibly scared by the thought (hence the sweating and difficulty breathing and so forth).

The Mummies

On the other hand, you could argue that Holden draws a distinction between death and disappearing, and that's why he's so into the mummies. He explains the process of mummification to two younger boys with enthusiasm; mummies are blatantly representative of death, but rather than get depressed by the obvious morbidity of the subject matter, Holden is fascinated by the thought that some things stay as they are. The mummies die, but they don't disappear. Of course, this could be more to do with his desire for unchanging and perpetual youth than with his obsession with mortality, so you can still argue death = disappearing, even if you want to talk about the mummies.

You could also go in another (and perhaps darker) direction, and say the mummies aren't so much an uplifting example of preservation after death, but are more about lifeless shells – bodies without spirit, frozen physical forms, much like the fish (as Horwitz sees them) stuck in the frozen lake and absorbing nutrients through their pores. Maybe this is even how Holden sees himself.

Ossenburger, and More About Death

To be fair, it's not like Holden's obsession with death is entirely unwarranted. This stuff is everywhere, right down to the money that paid for his dormitory at Pencey Prep. We're talking about old Ossenburger, the wealthy alumnus Holden discusses in Chapter Three. Even we're depressed by the fact that Pencey built buildings out of money earned by a chain of bargain funeral parlors. Just another reminder that in Holden's world, death is everywhere. James Castle, Mr. Antolini's Quote, and More About Death

Well, speaking of death, we've got one more base to cover. Holden digresses in Chapter Twenty-Two about James Castle, a classmate of his that killed himself at Elkton Hills. On the surface, this is another instance where death has come close to Holden – he hears the body hit the ground, he sees the "teeth and blood" all over the place afterwards, and the boy is wearing Holden's turtleneck sweater at the time. That'll make mortality really hit home, especially for someone in Holden's shoes (that is, someone who lost a brother at such a young age).

But the James Castle incident is far more interesting because of the Mr. Antolini connection. During his conversation with/lecture to Holden, Mr. Antolini makes a big deal (he even writes down a favorite quotation) out of warning his former student not to die nobly for an unworthy cause. OK, but what does this have to do with James? Check out the passage where Holden explains his death. It seems that James insulted a (deserving) guy by calling him conceited, and instead of taking it back when threatened and/or abused, he jumped out the window. Sounds like he died nobly for an unworthy cause – exactly what Holden has to be careful not to do.

Also, J.D. Salinger helped us out by explicitly connecting James Castle with Mr. Antolini, since Mr. Antolini is the one to carry the dead body away?

The Museum (And the Indian Room)

Let's get away from this mortality business and talk instead about the inevitable passing of time and the changes that it brings. For Holden especially, this is a source of depression; he doesn't like that everything has to change, that everyone has to grow up. "Certain things […] you ought to be able to stick […] in one of those big glass cases and just leave them alone," he says. He's making a rather explicit connection here between the Indian Room at the museum (where the displays always stay the same) and the children (who are always changing) who visit on field trips. Since Holden is so straightforward about the connection, you'll really a lot from reading what he has to say on the subject (the last four paragraphs of Chapter Sixteen).

Yet, there is one interesting (and less straightforward) aspect we'd like to at least address. Holden says that while the displays stay the same, a person is different every time he comes back to visit. But he makes the point that it's not so much about getting older as it is about becoming different. Before we read this, we might have been tempted to make the connection that, since Holden fears dying, and he also fears getting older, the latter is simply a fear of getting old. But this passage here prevents us from drawing that conclusion. Holden emphasizes that it's not aging that bothers him – it's the changes one goes through in order to become an adult. So he's talking more about the intangible qualities of youth and innocence than he is about the physical ones. Just look at his list of examples – hearing parents fight, or seeing a gasoline puddle – these are examples of awareness, of mental growth, not of physical aging.

The Little Shirley Beans Record

Holden's interest in the Little Shirley Beans record for his sister is intriguing. When he talks about the singer, Estelle Fletcher, he describes her singing it as "very Dixieland and whorehouse [… not] all mushy, […not] cute as hell," as he thinks a white girl would have done. At first, this sounds rather odd. Why is Holden into a record that sounds Dixieland and whorish, especially since he's buying it for his little sister and is troubled by the thought of sexuality invading the world of children? Good question.

We think this is about avoiding phoniness. The record is clearly intended for children – it features a little kid that's embarrassed about having lost her front teeth. (Also, it's called "Little Shirley Beans," which is sort of a dead giveaway.) Anyway, Holden figures that most people, if singing a record for little children, would cheese it up, make it cute, mushy, and phony because they think that's what little kids are into. Holden prefers Estelle's rendition, because it lacks this sort of pretense. Much like Phoebe's notebook, to which we'll be addressing soon. Oh, but not before we suggest that you think about at what point in the novel the record breaks, and what Phoebe does when Holden reveals the broken pieces.

Phoebe's Notebook, and Even More About Holden's Narrative Technique, Though We All Thought That Wasn't Possible

Before Holden wakes Phoebe up, he sits down and reads through her school notebook (check this out – it's not too far from the start of Chapter Twenty- One). Holden, much like the reader, finds it endearing, states that "kids notebooks kill [him]," and adds that he could "read that kind of stuff […] all day and all night long." But what does he like so much about it? Take a look at it.

Why has south eastern Alaska so many caning factories? Because there's so much salmon Why has it valuable forests? because it has the right climate. What has our government done to make life easier for the Alaskan Eskimos? look it up for tomorrow!!! Phoebe Weatherfield Caulfield Phoebe Weatherfield Caulfield Phoebe Weatherfield Caulfield Phoebe W. Caulfield Phoebe Weatherfield Caulfield, Esq. Please pass to Shirley!!!! Shirley you said you were sagitarius but your only Taurus bring your skates when you come over to my house

Holden has a point – Phoebe's notebook is the least phony expression of thought we've seen so far in the novel. What makes her notes so appealing are their lack of pretension and falsity; Phoebe simply wrote exactly what she was thinking. (Anyone older might be embarrassed about the fact that they're making up a new middle name for themselves, or too reserved to use triple exclamation points.)

And now for the fireworks: for those who would argue that Holden himself is a "phony," think about the presentation of his narrative in The Catcher in the Rye: it's completely honest. While he lies to others about his age, he openly admits to us things like, "I have a lousy vocabulary" and "I act quite young for my age sometimes." (If he does lie to us, it doesn't feel manipulative or intentional, rather subconscious and accidental.) So, in a way, Holden's narrative is like Phoebe's notebook. It's just what some kid happens to be thinking.

The "Fuck you" Signs On the Walls

Holden is incredibly bothered by the "fuck you" signs he sees on walls. He's even more bothered by the locations in which he finds them – on the wall at Phoebe's school and in the once-sacred tomb in the museum. These are places that remind him of his own childhood, that would made him feel secure and comfortable and – dare we say it – happy? Yet in Holden's world, this isn't possible; everything has been corrupted by vulgarities. Even his own death, he says, couldn't be sacred or peaceful, since someone would probably write a "fuck you" on his very tombstone.

We argue in Holden's "Character Analysis" that it's no wonder that he sees sex as dirty and degrading, when all the portrayals he's seen of sex are in fact dirty and degrading. This is one such portrayal; Holden imagines a "perverty bum" sneaking into Phoebe's school at night to write the message on the wall.

The most interesting thing is that it's more likely that a student at the school vandalized the wall. Holden, of course, either can't or chooses not to see this; in his world, children are innocent and adults corrupt. While this keeps everything nice and simple in Holden's mind, it also makes it impossible for him to really understand sexuality and the process of growing-up. While he does come to the realization that trying to rub out all the "fuck you"s in the world would be an impossible task (as there are just too many), he doesn't make the important connection that it would be futile anyway. Children will grow up and experience sex, whether he likes it or not.

Phoebe, the Carousel, and the Gold Ring

As far as we can tell, there's only one place in the entire novel where Holden declares himself to be really happy. So happy, in fact, that he's "damn near bawling." And that moment is at the end of his narrative, in Chapter Twenty- Five, as he's out in the rain watching Phoebe go around and around on the carousel. She just looks so nice, he says, in her blue coat, going around and around. But there's more to this sunny jubilance than a kid on a carousel. A few things have just happened: 1) Holden decided that, after all, he's not going to run away, 2) Phoebe put his hunting hat back on his head, which we've already talked about as being caring and kind, and 3) just maybe, Holden has realizes that growing up isn't the worst thing in the world.

Of course, number three up there is subject to debate. We're mostly talking about Phoebe's grabbing for the gold ring, and Holden's thought that "the thing with kids is, if they want to grab for the gold ring, you have to let them do it, and not say anything. If they fall off, they fall off, but it's bad if you say anything to them."

The gold ring is something we don't have anymore on carousels. The gig was that you were supposed to reach for the gold ring when you passed it on your horse. Usually, if you grabbed it, you got a free ride. When Holden concludes that you have to just let a kid reach, even though they might get hurt doing so, he might be saying or admitting (although he probably doesn't realize it himself) that growing up is in fact necessary – for Phoebe and for himself; you can't really protect a kid from it, so it's better to just accept it as it is. Or he could just be talking about a gold ring.