By Choi Yearn-hong

When I was a young college student at Yonsei University in the 1960s, I read J.D. Salinger's ``Catcher in the Rye'' with great curiosity, because it was a sensational adolescent novel. It was the story of an American teenage boy, Holden Caulfield, after he was expelled from his boarding school, Pencey Prep school.

Over three days in New York City, he had the run of weird encounters with taxi drivers, nuns, an elevator operator, three girls from Seattle, a prostitute and a former teacher.

In his eyes, the world was controlled and dominated by ``phonies,'' and he struggled with limited success to come to terms with love, sex and ultimately himself.

The story of one young man's view of New York City and its citizens instantly became a classic novel. I could see a portrait of a New York young man wondering about the world. The novel did depict a young man's empathy.

After the publication of the novel, Salinger disappeared. His last short story was published in 1965 in The New Yorker. He achieved instant literary fame, and then went into seclusion.

In the last half century, he became famous for his disappearance from the world. He maintained fame in the midst of seclusion in a small town in New Hampshire. I don't know whether he enjoyed his fame from seclusion or not.

His death was made known to the world by his son via the Associated Press late last month. Was he someone who did not like the world the young boy saw in ``Catcher in the Rye,'' or was he a lonely man who did not want to be part of the crowd.

His first and last novel, ``Catcher in the Rye,'' earned him enough fame and money to support his life, so that he did not need publishers or readers.

It is known that he wrote unpublished novels and short stories during his life and the world is curious about these.

Many people are waiting for the possible opening of a safety deposit box which may contain numerous manuscripts. It seems to me that his life was a contradiction, and death might have been a happy occasion for him.

Until now, not much has been written about him, because he sued anyone who attempted to publish any book or essay on his life and his works. The known facts are: During World War II, he served in the U.S. army and interrogated prisoners of war; he participated in the Normandy campaign and the liberation of France; he was once hospitalized for combat-related stress; and his first literary recognition came from short stories in The New Yorker.

He attended one semester or so at Columbia University where he met a creative writing teacher who encouraged him to write. He married and divorced more than one woman, and fathered a son and a daughter.

In 2009, Margaret Salinger published a memoir, ``Dream Catcher," in which she described her early life as the daughter of Salinger. He was an angry man, and he regularly belittled members of his family, she wrote. He seemed to his daughter as a man of anger.

It seems to me that he could not maintain amicable human relationships with anyone, including his own offspring. She wrote that more of her father's stories would be released after his death.

My question regarding his death is this: Why is the famous writer weird? I have seen many ``weird'' people among poets, writers and novelists. If they are normal, then apparently they cannot or may not be poets, writers or novelists.

The artist, so to speak, is a weird human being. Isn't this the case? Does art and literature encourage people to become weird? Or do they become weird, and then become poets, writers and novelists. If they do not show their anger toward society, they cannot produce poetry and stories.

Does their anger change society? Is their anger necessary for people to read poetry and look to the arts? This is a good question with the death of Salinger.

Ernest Hemingway was known as a great writer, who produced many great stories for people to read. But also, he was not known as a good man ― his close friends were un-becoming.

For example, once he maintained a good relationship with F. Scott Fitzgerald, but later they drifted apart. He did not keep his friends once he became acquainted with them. He was known as a man of arrogance.

Is the writer's arrogance acceptable or tolerable? Their anger against the injustice and unfairness of war is desirable and necessary. But his unconditional anger against society is not very healthy.

I have seen more than a few ``weird'' poets and writers in Korean society, too. Judging weirdness is not easy, though. Who knows? Some critics or readers may say that I am weird. I can say that Salinger was weird.

Do they need to be weird to be famed poets and writers? This is my question to them.

I wish and hope they don't need to be so to be good poets and writers. In a divided nation, there are some ``humanitarian'' South Korean poets and writers who have demonstrated kindness to North Korean leader Kim Jong-il. Probably, they are more than weird.

I have not seen any humanitarian poets and writers in North Korea who are sympathetic to South Korean leaders.

Those South Korean poets and writers that claim that literature exists in North Korea are also absurd, not just weird. Because I can only see North Korean literature serving Kim as his servant.

Dr. Choi is a poet and writer. He can be reached at yearnhc@hanmail.net. The views expressed in the above article are the author's own and do not reflect the opinions of The Korea Times.