I find that I did not so much as read The Catcher In The Rye as much as having boarded the train with Holden, and gone on his crazy trip. Not a stretch, really; I have hung out with distasteful people just like Holden. I do remember, though, I went through the novel like four or five times. I would sit there, and, like, God, what a whiner, what a complainer. He's a pain in the ass. But, you take Holden Caulfield with you.
This book convinced me that my theory about the disaffection of youth in America being a chronic condition, and not just a symptom of, say, the Age of Aquarius and its aftermath was more than partially correct. Whenever some old American Gothics start waxing poetic about how things were great back in the day because kids were well behaved and called the adults sir and maam and were happy to shovel shit for a nickel, well, we all know better. J. D. Salinger helped paint that clearer picture...