J D Salinger [Salinger - For EsmГ©, With Love and Squalor

FOR ESM

WITH LOVE AND SQUALOR

Other Books by J. D. Salinger

the catcher in the rye

franny and zooey

raise high the roofbeam, carpenters

and seymour: an introduction

FOR ESM

WITH LOVE AND SQUALOR

J. D. SALINGER

Little, Brown and Company

Boston New York Toronto London

If you purchase this book without a cover you should be aware that this book may have been stolen property and reported as unsold and destroyed to the publisher. In such case neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this stripped book.

Little, Brown and Company Edition

Copyright 1948, 1949, 1950, 1951, 1953 by J. D. Salinger

Copyright renewed 1981 by J. D. Salinger

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electric or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Of the nine stories to the book the following seven appeared originally in The New Yorker: "A Perfect Day for Bananafish," "Uncle Wiggily in Connecticut," "Just Before the War with the Eskimos," "The Laughing Man," "For Esmwith Love and Squalor," "Pretty Mouth and Green My Eyes," and "Teddy." The author is grateful to The New Yorker for permission to reprint.

The author also wishes to thank Harpers Magazine for permission to reprint Down at the Dinghy.

Little, Brown edition originally published April 1953.

This LB Books edition is published by arrangement with the author.

Distributed (with a pretty high profit-to-effort ratio) by Warner Books.

Little, Brown and Company

34 Beacon Street

Boston, MA 02108

Published simultaneously in the United States by Warner Books, elsewhere by Tln, Buenos Aires, S.A., in Canada by Little, Brown and Company (Canada) Limited

Printed in the United States of America

First LB Books mass market paperback edition: May 1991

20 19 18

TO

DOROTHY OLDING

and

GUS LOBRANO

We know the sound of two hands clapping.

But what is the sound of one hand clapping?

a zen koan

Contents

A Perfect Day for Bananafish

Uncle Wiggily in Connecticut

Just Before the War with the Eskimos

The Laughing Man

Down at the Dinghy

For Esmwith Love and Squalor

Pretty Mouth and Green My Eyes

De Daumier-Smith's Blue Period

Teddy

FOR ESM

WITH LOVE AND SQUALOR

A Perfect Day for Bananafish

There were ninety-seven New York advertising men in the hotel, and, the way they were monopolizing the long-distance lines, the girl in 507 had to wait from noon till almost two-thirty to get her call through. She used the time, though. She read an article in a womens pocket-size magazine, called Sex Is Funor Hell. She washed her comb and brush. She took the spot out of the skirt of her beige suit. She moved the button on her Saks blouse. She tweezed out two freshly surfaced hairs in her mole. When the operator finally rang her room, she was sitting on the window seat and had almost finished putting lacquer on the nails of her left hand.

She was a girl who for a ringing phone dropped exactly nothing. She looked as if her phone had been ringing continually ever since she had reached puberty.

With her little lacquer brush, while the phone was ringing, she went over the nail of her little finger, accentuating the line of the moon. She then replaced the cap on the bottle of lacquer and, standing up, passed her leftthe wethand back and forth through the air. With her dry hand, she picked up a congested ashtray from the window seat and carried it with her over to the night table, on which the phone stood. She sat down on one of the made-up twin beds andit was the fifth or sixth ringpicked up the phone.

Hello, she said, keeping the fingers of her left hand outstretched and away from her white silk dressing gown, which was all that she was wearing, except mulesher rings were in the bathroom.

I have your call to New York now, Mrs. Glass, the operator said.

Thank you, said the girl, and made room on the night table for the ashtray.

A womans voice came through. Muriel? Is that you?

The girl turned the receiver slightly away from her ear. Yes, Mother. How are you? she said.

Ive been worried to death about you. Why havent you phoned? Are you all right?

I tried to get you last night and the night before. The phone heres been

Are you all right, Muriel?

The girl increased the angle between the receiver and her ear. Im fine. Im hot. This is the hottest day theyve had in Florida in

Why havent you called me? Ive been worried to

Mother, darling, dont yell at me. I can hear you beautifully, said the girl. I called you twice last night. Once just after

I told your father youd probably call last night. But, no, he had toAre you all right, Muriel? Tell me the truth.

Im fine. Stop asking me that, please.

When did you get there?

I dont know. Wednesday morning, early.

Who drove?

He did, said the girl. And dont get excited. He drove very nicely. I was amazed.

He drove? Muriel, you gave me your word of

Mother, the girl interrupted, I just told you. He drove very nicely. Under fifty the whole way, as a matter of fact.

Did he try any of that funny business with the trees?

I said he drove very nicely, Mother. Now, please. I asked him to stay close to the white line, and all, and he knew what I meant, and he did. He was even trying not to look at the treesyou could tell. Did Daddy get the car fixed, incidentally?

Not yet. They want four hundred dollars, just to

Mother, Seymour told Daddy that hed pay for it. Theres no reason for

Well, well see. How did he behavein the car and all?

All right, said the girl.

Did he keep calling you that awful

No. He has something new now.

What?

Oh, whats the difference, Mother?

Muriel, I want to know. Your father

All right, all right. He calls me Miss Spiritual Tramp of 1948, the girl said, and giggled.

It isnt funny, Muriel. It isnt funny at all. Its horrible. Its sad, actually. When I think how

Mother, the girl interrupted, listen to me. You remember that book he sent me from Germany? You knowthose German poems. Whatd I do with it? Ive been racking my

You have it.

Are you sure? said the girl.

Certainly. That is, I have it. Its in Freddys room. You left it here and I didnt have room for it in theWhy? Does he want it?

No. Only, he asked me about it, when we were driving down. He wanted to know if Id read it.

It was in German!

Yes, dear. That doesnt make any difference, said the girl, crossing her legs. He said that the poems happen to be written by the only great poet of the century. He said I shouldve bought a translation or something. Or learned the language, if you please.

Awful. Awful. Its sad, actually, is what it is. Your father said last night

Just a second, Mother, the girl said. She went over to the window seat for her cigarettes, lit one, and returned to her seat on the bed. Mother? she said, exhaling smoke.

Muriel. Now, listen to me.

Im listening.

Your father talked to Dr. Sivetski.

Oh? said the girl.

He told him everything. At least, he said he didyou know your father. The trees. That business with the window. Those horrible things he said to Granny about her plans for passing away. What he did with all those lovely pictures from Bermuda