‘I can’t really feel bad for this rich kid with a weekend free in New York City.’
Somehow I missed this winningly titled article, Get a Life, Holden Caulfield.
These days, teenagers seem more interested in getting into Harvard than in flunking out of Pencey Prep. Young people, with their compulsive text-messaging and hyperactive pop culture metabolism, are more enchanted by wide-eyed, quidditch-playing Harry Potter of Hogwarts than by the smirking manager of Pencey’s fencing team (who was lame enough to lose the team’s equipment on the subway, after all). Today’s pop culture heroes, it seems, are the nerds who conquer the world — like Harry — not the beautiful losers who reject it.
Every now and again, something I read in the newspaper really perks me up. But the best line was the last:
Ms. Feinberg recalled one 15-year-old boy from Long Island who told her: “Oh, we all hated Holden in my class. We just wanted to tell him, ‘Shut up and take your Prozac.’ ”
One wonders whether pharmacutical improvements will be treated as basic hygiene in the near future; listless moodiness might soon be equivalent to offensive odor. The future is looking bright!