The Explanation
(for those who require one)

And, of course, that is what all of this is -- all of this: the one song, ever changing, ever reincarnated, that speaks somehow from and to and for that which is ineffable within us and without us, that is both prayer and deliverance, folly and wisdom, that inspires us to dance or smile or simply to go on, senselessly, incomprehensibly, beatifically, in the face of mortality and the truth that our lives are more ill-writ, ill-rhymed and fleeting than any song, except perhaps those songs -- that song, endlesly reincarnated -- born of that truth, be it the moon and June of that truth, or the wordless blue moan, or the rotgut or the elegant poetry of it. That nameless black-hulled ship of Ulysses, that long black train, that Terraplane, that mystery train, that Rocket '88', that Buick 6 -- same journey, same miracle, same end and endlessness."
-- Nick Tosches, Where Dead Voices Gather

Tiny Giants and Tiny Mummies #8


J.D. Salinger

6 comments :

Tempest said...

Read 'the book'.
Still don't know what all the fuss is about him.

There I said it.

estiv said...

Still don't know what all the fuss is about him.

He writes like an angel.

Inquiring Camera Girl said...

That's a beautifully composed photo ....

Lindsay Vivian said...

Anyone else see the face in the tree in the right edge of the photo?

Tom Sutpen said...

I'm just try'na figure out what's up with his hair. If I didn't know any better I'd say it was a toup purchased from the same pet store that former Congressman (now convict) James Trafficant got his.

By the by, I think both the composition and the tree-bark face are accidental. This was taken in 1961 . . . 'round time of Franny & Zooey's publication, when the Time/Life organization went insane on the subject of J.D. Salinger (the 'what is he hiding?' internal memos ought to be published in some form. They're that entertaining); the summit, in other words, of the man's mystique . . . by a Life magazine shutterbug, and without the subject's prior knowledge and/or consent. I imagine the longest, state-of-the-art telephoto lens was employed for a job that no doubt took less than thirty seconds to execute once the photographer realized it was him.

Blumm said...

La foto es magnĂ­fica.
Enhorabuena!