R.I.P. J.D. Salinger
http://www.examiner.com/x-1994-LA-Celebrity-Headlines-Examiner~y2010m1d2...
You thexy beast. Yes, I wrote that.
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Have you read "At Home in the World" by Joyce Maynard? He had a relationship with her when he was 53 and she was 18. Not so thexy, IMHO.
"Mediocrity knows nothing higher than itself; but talent instantly recognizes genius"--Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
I know that guy, Birdie, he came on to me in poetry workshop too. Mine was FAMOUS. Majorly. Still love his poetry. I think I WAS a good poet and he did see something special in my poetry. I think yours did too in you (maybe it was the same lonely, brilliant, out of line, middle aged, distorted poet). If I had $100 for every man in power who came onto me in a subordinent position, adored me, tried to sleep with me, slept with me, married me, left me, when I was young, and held the full sweetness of the world....But now I have my own money, body, baby, life and love- have in some ways become the man I've always wanted. So that will never happen again, but hopefully true love will. 
is still one of my favorite books. I remember being so surprised by it, when I first read it in high school. This is a book that is worth the hype. I still read it at least once a year, because it is so wonderfully written and works on so many levels. On his personal life, well I have my opinions about that...he was a tremendous writer though.
I've enjoyed his writing, but never explored anything about Salinger's personal life until today. Yikes! He seemed to have a fetish about messing up the educational endeavors of women. That self-imposed isolation idea sounds like a good one to me...
Glamorous
Memory is a crazy woman that hoards colored rags and throws away food. ~Austin O'Malley
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And he said no. That's a big age difference though, I agree. His wife was okay with it.
And no, I haven't read it. I didn't know about his affair with her- I was just reading about it online- I haven't read much about the man. I was psyched to discover that his photo was a sexy as his writing.
If I was her that would have probably fucked me up at age 18. So flattering, yet completely not flattering.
When I was 19 I came in 3rd at a poetry slam- this man (who was a professor and the guest speaker that evening- a published poet who wrote poetry about living through war that made me cry) told me that he was really taken with my poetry, that he thought I had talent- and asked me to come over to his house with more of my work- I did. He cooked me an elaborate brunch while telling me a story about a princess in a tower, told me how his wife didn't liked to be touched, and proceeded to try to give me a back rub on his couch. He didn't have any interest in the 250 poems I had brought. I had to call someone to get a ride home. I was devastated- it wasn't about my writing at all. I didn't read at another poetry night for 4 years after that.