LIBRE

The type, the catcher, it's really unbearable. That's all you think after you've spent a week with him useless. Standing there, talking, wandering, go to hell but then repents, turns to New York in search of you do not know what, meet old professors, takes the piss psychologist, tries to free his sister who has already prepared my suitcase a wagon and tells you stories that, frankly, do not know what do with it. The thing you most furious is that he always was seventeen. And everyone keeps calling the young Holden .

Holden Caulfield. It is so called. But is not that important. This is the first truth that you know as soon as you see it. Who is it? The answer is dry who cares. Feel it: "If you really like to hear this story, maybe you want to know first where I was born and how my childhood was crap and it made my parents and the rest before I arrived, and all the nonsense David Copperfield, but I do not feel like just talking. " Perfect. Friends and close it here first. But it went quite differently.

It is going around since 1951, with his usual insolent air from fancazzista, like someone on this earth almost as a favor to you, but does not want to get their hands dirty. It is bored. Do not know what to do in life. Everything around him is more or less disgusting: the world, work, money, dummies with ties, the other, without exception. Holden is rich, aristocratic melancholy and has no desire to ask questions. He says: "A lot of people, especially the psychoanalyst who is here, continues to wonder if when I go back to school in September I'm going to study. It's a stupid question, I think. I mean, how do you know what you do, until you do it? The answer is that you do not know. "

This is his secret. Holden does not see the future . I do not imagine. It is not his problem and wander in an eternal present. The only sure thing is his irritation. Holden Caulfield is pissed off and you are not yet understood why. The story of his brother who died at this point fails. There must be other. Or better. There. Holden is just pissed. Without reason. This makes it grow even more anger, until it plunged into a nihilistic vortex. I hate the world. Why? I do not know? And then? The fact that I do not know, makes me hate even more. And so on. Exponentially. "It's funny. Just tell something nobody understands and you do to others what you want. "

When you look at it, tell us, mutilated his sentences, images will not have much luck. Holden instead began to multiply. A parthenogenesis meaningless. Holden, Holden, Holden, Holden, Holden million each generation. One after another. Unleashed throughout the twentieth century and beyond: On the Waterfront, Rebel Without a Cause, Berkley, '68, in mass cowardice and collaborator of the 70s, punk , punk to beast, the indifference of the '80s, grunge and disguised in generation X, until the Zero to nothing vague and uncertain as the last horizon of the precariousness of life.

The seventeen is always there to nod, not to let anything from scratch, the only satisfaction impossible to see past and future rot. Tired, especially tired. "Outstanding. If there is a word I hate is exceptional. It's so fake. " No. The truth is that you can trust Holden. Everything he says, he says is a mask to survive without paying any price. Is a coward. But he is what he understood everything, knows better than any other. It is a master of bluff. Holden Caulfield by more than half a century lies to himself: "I am the most phenomenal liar I ever met. It's scary. Even if I go to the newsstand to buy the newspaper as anything I say I'm going to work. "

In this way he deceived every one after the other party, who read and those who only heard about. Everything Holden stench of cheating, starting from that "young." Catcher in the Rye is damn old. Carries all the disillusionment of many Holden who preceded him. Comes when dreams have already been burned and feeds, rinutre, rinutre still what remains and this dish, without prospects, without even the illusion of 3D as an avatar who has lost his relationship with the human . Holden recapture every generation itself, but you always repeated the same words, feelings collapsed, just that every time I'm a bit 'more blacks, a bit' more desperate. And this is really exceptional.

Holden is the old revolutionary who never makes a revolution . He tells you that is so useless, that every revolution is equal to itself. Holden looks like Oblomov urlarti not to despair in the face of Dostoevsky or resignation of the Prince of Salina. There's nobody on this earth older than Holden. It is the human response to any new modernity. It is the fear that sooner or later the future is zero.

(Vittorio Macioce, "The old Holden, antihero of all teenagers, from" The Journal "of January 29, 2010, www.ilgiornale.it ).