It's never good when, as was true while reading Franny and Zooey, I spend more time noticing the writing than the story the book is telling. Maybe it was because I just reread James Wood's How Fiction Works and was predisposed to notice the inordinate level of detail Salinger goes into while describing the contents of a medicine cabinet, including a faded photograph and three ticket stubs nearly a decade old which, beyond their incongruous presence, serve no purpose in the larger story. Or the equally inordinate length of Zooey's monologue toward the end of the story, which culminates with his odd realization that the mysterious Fat Lady from his older brother's instructions on life was really Christ, that everything we do should be for the Fat Lady who is and isn't present at all our performances.

That these are the two points I bring up first in a review of the book should forewarn you to toss aside any expectations that Franny and Zooey will make any sense or seem anything more than a well-written, mildly interesting tale of a highly intelligent, barely likable brother and sister who are superior to those of us of average (or worse) intelligence. That we are merely voyeurs to the trials and tribulations of Franny's self-destructive search for meaning and Zooey's at times nonsensical psychoanalysis of her intellectual yearnings.

After reading several of the other reviews, I see I am not the only one who found this book a slog and wondered why I troubled myself to finish it. Just as I didn't understand the reverence for The Catcher in the Rye, I don't understand the greatness of this book that justified its nomination for the National Book Award. ( )

This book nearly cured me of ever wanting to read another classic. The first part was tolerable enough, and kept my interest as Franny was at a table with her annoying boyfriend (thus the 2 stars). The second (much longer) part was excruciatingly boring, and my only question was, why did I keep reading? ( )

I hate when finishing a book feels like a chore. I cringed every time either kid talked to their mother. awful book. ( )

Welp, I did it. I got through it, I studied it, I tried to like it. I can barely appreciate it. Nope. Just cannot empathize with or even want to care about the characters at all.
And of course there's no plot, and the setting is what it is, so, yeah. ( )

Like many Americans, my first encounter with Salinger was reading Catcher in the Rye; unlike many others, I suspect, it was not part of my school curriculum, but on my own several years after graduation: I don't recall exactly when. Whether that helps explain the fact I enjoyed the novel and admired Holden's character, I'm not sure. The abiding impression is of a clear narrative voice and an admirable insight into youthful exasperation with adults who seemingly make little effort to resist society's undermining of their own ideals. I could get behind that view of the world, as annoying sometimes as Holden's own complaints could be.

Both stories include that recognisable narrative voice, if anything it works better here. Evidently Holden isn't conceived as part of the Glass family, in which both Zooey and Franny are siblings, and each character here is older than Holden was when narrating his tale, yet I found myself thinking they brought similar concerns at different times of life. The plot of each story is prosaic but the themes are identity and how to live life, with disgust and criticism at the lack of integrity (only noticed "phony" being used once, I think in the Franny story, but the concern was very much in focus). Other Glass family stories are to be found in Nine Stories and Seymour: An Introduction, finishing these confirms I'm interested in reading further in whatever Salinger wants to share about this family.

I learned only recently that Salinger's stories are an acknowledged influence on Wes Anderson's filmography, perhaps most explicitly on The Royal Tenenbaums. The Tannenbaums (sic) are named as marriage relatives to the Family Glass, that's one of two explicit links in the film itself, but Anderson confirms in various ways outside the film. (The second link is the scene at the Green Line bus terminal, which lines up with the opening scene from "Franny".) Inspiration extends to scenes and even specific character, sure, but for the most part it's a vibe and premise. I enjoy it from Salinger and Anderson both. ( )