Article Critique

Although this critic seems to be an obvious fan of “Catcher in the Rye” I have to question some of the reasoning behind it. Take the way she described the message of the book for example. It states:

“Salinger, of course, cannot be held accountable for misreadings of his novel any more than he ought to be bashed for writing about prep school anxieties as opposed to the great themes of love and war.”

Based on this alone, its safe to assume that this critic had an obvious bias towards the book. I however, believe that J.D. Salinger knew exactly how people would react, and in fact aimed for such a reaction. On the contrary, I do agree with the fact that Salinger should not be criticized for veering from the norm of literary paths. I too feel as the critic does in the mere fact that Salinger ought to be commended for conquering such a feat instead of being banned from classrooms around the country.

This critic also did an excellent job of pointing out the obvious; other writers besides Salinger have also written about the trials of life, however none have done it quite like him. This leads me to wonder why and how Salinger managed to stick out above the rest. Some say it was his use of profanity, or possible even his frequent references to sex that gave him his uniqueness. In my eyes, Salinger has managed to pass the test of time by being brutally and crudely honest. I feel it is because of his honesty that people of all ages have taken notice and felt inclined to absorb and analyze Salinger’s views.

The Color Red

Did you know that I was actually named after a rainbow in Alaska? Probably not. I guess based on that, I could say that I represent all the colors of the rainbow… but isn’t everybody?
Lots of people like to think of themselves as wise or noble or maybe even silly…I however know that my true characteristic is passion. Although I try to hide it a lot, I have a lot of passion for what I want in life, which is often the trigger for my aggression and competitiveness in life.
Even when I was younger, my aggressiveness was evident. You see, when I was young I was an extremely good swimmer. So good in fact, that I didn’t want to race the girls anymore…. I wanted to beat the boys. The next meet, I went up to the official and asked if I could “please race the boys?” And you know what she told me? She said, “It’s too hard for you, it will be a waste of time.” At that moment I knew I had to show her. At the start of the race I lined up with the boys, and even though everyone was yelling at me to get off the blocks, I dove in. As soon as I came out I could feel my cheeks burning red with exhaustion, and I stuck around just in time to find out the results. And guess what… I won. Unfortunately…I wasn’t given a ribbon because I wasn’t registered for the event…but that was beyond the point. I had won.
Sometimes I wonder if all my aggressiveness is a good thing, but I know I wouldn’t be here today if I didn’t have the red spark in me. My mother often tells me that it’s a trait that the women in our family have, because she and her mother before her were the exact same way. In fact, my grandmother was so red with desire, that even before women were meant to have jobs, she told her husband, “I’m getting a job and you’re going to like it.” Talk about fire huh?
The red passion that runs in my family is so great, and for this I am so thankful. It contributes to my dreams of becoming a doctor, in ways you cannot even imagine. For instance, before the start of this year I began an EMT course, as well as carrying a full course in high school. It has been extremely trying at times, and I often feel as though I don’t have anymore energy to keep going. But somehow… I always do. I believe it’s my fierce determination as well as my passion for others that constantly pushes me to complete the tasks at hand.
It has been said that every woman has at least four personalities within her soul. As for me, and my red streak, I believe I most often show my aggressiveness, anger, passion, and determination. Therefore, regardless of how many personalities I represent, I believe they can all be boiled down to one color. Red.

Object Essay

When I was younger, I had a favorite stuffed animal like many young kids do; mine was a bunny. He was particularly special because before I was even born my mom had made him for me. However, the first bunny of the two was the one that she really wanted me to have; the one she wanted me to take to. This version had ribbons and bows and a cute little face, but to me it was just another "perfect stuffed animal". Unfortunately for her, I took to her rough draft better. I guess you could say it was because it represented the first, just as I was the first child, but more than that was the fact that my mom had made it, so regardless of how beautiful it was, I absolutely adored it.
Over time this bunny of mine became tattered and torn and spilled on. However, each accident my bunny had (thanks to me) would become a treasure hunt for my mom and I. We would spend hours picking out the perfect fabric patch to fix him with, and of course it had to be PERFECT...after all, it was my bunny we were talking about. He was marvelous. After some time, and much growing up, there are now only bits and pieces of the original fabric peeking out behind the layers of patches that my bunny had to endure.
To most people, patches are a sign of repair and worthlessness. As a kid, these patches were fun, and were always there to soak up my tears whenever I cried. In whole, my bunny was most definitely my biggest security and comfort as a kid. Whenever I would get in trouble, or when my parents would fight my bunny would always be there. Even when my parents got divorced, I transferred my fear to my bunny, by comforting him and telling him that everything would be okay. Looking back on it now, I can see who was really comforting who.
Each patch not only brings back feelings of comfort, but it also brings in a flood of memories from my childhood. For instance, when I was a child I was the most curious little girl. One day, I decided that I was going to drink out of the "grown ups" mug and have coffee (which was completely against my mom's wishes). So naturally, I stood on the tip of my toes and attempted to grasp the mug off the counter in one hand, while holding onto my bunny in the other. Needless to say, the whole operation ended with a crash as the coffee splashed onto the floor, and even worse... onto my bunny's ear! I started wailing, and soon after my bunny had found himself with a new patch to be proud of, right on the tip of his ear.
Even now, as I write this essay, I feel a strong sense of attachment and love towards my bunny. I guess sometimes even though we think we've grown up, we come to realize that our inner kid is just hiding behind the big bad adults that we've come to be. So anyway, if there was to be one object that I was to hold above the rest, it would obviously be my bunny; my companion; my inner kid's best friend forever.