Despite what vendors would have you believe, the anxiety is not only a gel product chiseled, perfectly tousled Twilight phenomenon. Holden Caulfield is the king of the twentieth century, anguish, and he was walking around with a buzz cut in the 1950′s. Søren Kierkegaard set the bar of the philosophical angst in the nineteenth century and achieved while wearing a hat. And who can forget Prince Hamlet, skull-carrying, wear pants angst-er’s original European canon?
Kierkegaard, of course, looked at the distress of a strictly Western, Christian point of view, but the literary figures such as Holden and Hamlet has a record much more universal. (That is, unless you’re tired of all the agony and hesitation, in which case you should go read To Kill a Mockingbird for some of shoot first, ask questions later, he asks Scouts of wisdom). In fact, despite the language barrier potential (Hamlet: “What / is this quintessence of dust man delights not me?” Holden: “That guy Morrow was as sensitive as a goddamn toilet seat”), the two have a remarkable amount in common.
Both Hamlet and Holden are privileged men, sick of love, youth marked by the death of a family member. As a result of silent suffering, they feel – and make a point of becoming – away from their communities. (That’s not a big loss, considering that both think the world is full of hypocrites and impostors.) Moored through passive aggression, Holden and Hamlet lie / screw with people in general until sanity becomes a subject of debate. And if that’s not enough to convince strangely parallel life, just keep in mind the fact that both can fence.
The main point of divergence is when Hamlet subliminates silent rage over the death of his uncle … not to mention his mother, his girlfriend, his girlfriend’s brother, the father of his girlfriend, her two best friends, and himself. Compare this with The Catcher in the Rye, which ends with Holden apparently had been admitted to a mental institution with all its frustrations alive and kicking hard.
Considering the fact that the Prince of Denmark is only a few steps below, you know, most powerful guy in the country – at a time when sword fighting and poisoning are still considered fairly run-of-the-mill – the apparent boldness of his action decreases, especially considering that it takes five acts of Hamlet for him to work, even the courage to do so. Holden, on the other hand, do not hesitate to attack his macho idiot roommate, “right on the toothbrush, so it is split open throat fucking.” Although the attack fails, this is pretty bold for a high school boy of 17 who live in the era in U.S. history who coined the term “lice.”
Holden fighting spirit evaporated in the course of the novel, however, and after losing his second fight, he imagines he is a gangster with a bullet in his belly and his best girl by his side. “The damn movie,” he laments. “They can ruin you.” And perhaps he is right, considering that our modern notion of catharsis and civilized is usually rent movies and let the washing scenarios you. Twilight maybe something after all.
Tags: holden caulfield, passive aggression, prince hamlet, quintessence of dust, ren kierkegaard