CAILLEY:

The literary world lost one of its finest Wednesday with the passing of J.D. Salinger. The author of “The Catcher in the Rye,” who for so long spent his time as a recluse in his home in New Hampshire, was held close to the hearts of book lovers around the globe.

Of course, Salinger was best known for the creation of Holden Caulfield, the semi-autobiographical, rebellious, angst-ridden teen romping around New York City calling people “phonies.” Salinger’s passing has led to a tide-like resurgence of memories of reading the book — be those memories of us lost in 1940’s New York City with Holden, or losing our minds with hatred of Caulfield’s “whiny” ways.

Those of the latter, dear readers, have no souls whatsoever (and that comment is largely directed to Managing Editor Michael Bleach, who tells me I have no soul for not liking “The Notebook.” Pansy).

“The Catcher in the Rye” is indeed one of America’s finest works of literature for more reasons that a nearly 400-word column will not allow. Here’s what I can squeeze into this space:

The book is a classic because it tells the story of a teenager who feels lost in the world, acts out, tries to find his way back and then overcomes his perception of reality and what his future holds. Despite the slightly old-timey language that is off-putting to people who (like my dear friends Michael Bleach and Tony Lewis) are not that inclined in a literary sense, the book’s theme of trying to figure yourself out resonates with teenagers (and adults) everywhere. Everywhere. It’s no wonder our ninth-grade English teacher made us read it.

In addition, Holden Caulfield is an all-around badass. He gets expelled from school, goes on a trip to New York by himself without his parents knowing, lies all the time, gets a hooker, curses left and right, drinks liquor and the list just goes on. Holden is that bold guy we wish we could be, but never will be because we just can’t pull off that dashing gray patch of hair he has. So we live vicariously through him.

Last comment: I firmly believe anything that can make the name “Phoebe” work is a good thing, “Friends” excluded.

Overall, if you don’t like “The Catcher in the Rye,” you’re nothing more than a phony.

TONY:

When I heard J.D. Salinger died the first thought that came to mind was, “He was still alive?” Can you blame me? The man has been perpetually hibernating for decades, popping his head out of his Cornish cave every now and then to start a legal battle with someone.

But enough about Salinger, let’s discuss his “great American classic.” While I do believe there was good reason for people to read “The Catcher in the Rye” when it first came out — it was gutsy writing packed with vulgar rebellion unlike anything else released at the time — I’m not sure why teachers continue to assign this novel. In today’s society, this type of writing is no longer the groundbreaking tale it once was. At this point, the book has just become one of those things where if you are told something is good for long enough you start to believe it. In reality, the book is a straight up whine-fest.

Throughout the entire novel, it’s just bitch, bitch, bitch from Holden Caulfield. Yes, I understand the book is about alienation and rebellion, but come on man, grow a pair. I personally can’t even feel sorry for the guy, because he’s self-obsessed and doesn’t have anything to be complaining about in the first place.

I mean, in “Harry Potter and the Order of Phoenix,” Harry is bitching for a good chunk of the book. But I can stand that because at least he has something to be yelling about. I mean, his parents are dead and Voldemort wants to kill him.

What’s Caulfield have to complain about? He got kicked out of school? A prostitute yells at him and a pimp beats him up? He misses his classmates in the end? Boo hoo, it’s his own damn fault all this happened.

The novel is supposed to be this grand coming-of-age story, but honestly, the guy never grows up. He takes this three-day trip to New York City and comes out of it just as whiny. That’s why I wouldn’t call this an “American classic.” Sure, it was innovative back in the day, but had you released this book last week it wouldn’t have had that big of an impact. It would just be bitchy, teenage angst, and Cailley, don’t you get enough of that in your beloved MTV reality shows?