Franny and Zooey by J.D. Salinger
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Once in a lifetime, you come across a book that totally drives you crazy. It's like being hit by a comet or by a ball at the back of your head. Or rather, it's like the feeling when you don't know what exactly hit you!

Once in a lifetime, you'd take a book into bath with you and read it till all the bubbles disappear, till the water gets cold, till your teeth start chattering and still you won't get up, or dry yourself or move because you don't want it to end.

Once in a lifetime, you'd pick up a small book, a novella rather and wouldn't want it to end.

That 'Once in a lifetime' moment for me was when I picked up Franny and Zooey and YES, all the things I described above happened to me. I could list a million reasons why I would never forget this book but what tops my list is caught the worst cold of my life despite the excruciatingly hot Indian summer, thanks to this book. However, do I regret that? Of course I don't!

Don't be blown away by my review though. Just because it blew me away doesn't mean it would totally mesmerise you, too! Maybe it will, maybe it won't. J.D. Salinger isn't exactly everyone's cup of tea and I won't be surprised if you read it and came back shaking your fist at me, yelling, "What the hell was that?"

I admit, at first, I, too was wondering what the hell is this?, but something soon struck a chord with me. Maybe it was the smell of cigarette smoke, which you'd get plenty of in my house, courtesy my Dad, or the fact that I was using his bathroom for a change that day and on the ashtray by his tub, the cigarette butt was still smoldering as I twisted and turned in water, with a steaming cup of herbal tea in one hand and the book in the other, much like Zooey, who, too was surrounded by hot water, the smell of soap and cigarettes as he read his lines in bath. Maybe that's why, when I read this, I wasn't reading it but was in it-maybe I had become Zooey for sometime and so, his clear notions about life and prayer and religion were my notions, his irritation at the chaos in his house, was my irritation, and his love for his family, despite their quirks and craziness was not different from mine for my own crazy kinsfolk.

That's the true beauty of Salinger. You have to forget who you are. You just have to pick up one character, any character and become him, either voluntarily, if you're struggling with the book, that is; or involuntarily, like me! And then, it all makes sense, perfect sense while, at the same time, it ensnares all your senses and makes you oblivious to everything around you. Yes, I agree with
Diane Setterfield here: Reading IS dangerous but in a good way!

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