Charyn finds little mystery in the famously mysterious J.D. Salinger. He makes a persuasive case for the reclusive author suffering from a wartime case of what we refer to today as PTSD. He further suggests that Salinger’s wartime exploits should have equipped him to write the quintessential war novel (e.g., “The Naked and the Dead” or “Catch 22”). Instead, the disillusioned Salinger turned his focus inward, possibly because of the horrors he may have seen, and the forced moral conflicts required by his assignment to counterintelligence. Charyn admirably evokes the horror and ambiguity with Salinger’s ordered cover-up of the Slapton Sounds fiasco, his decisions, contrary to orders, to protect friends and connected Nazis, his rescue of a sexually abused child from a death camp, his amorous escapades with the German doctor/spy, Silvia Welter, and especially his postwar self-commitment to a mental hospital.
Notwithstanding the cultlike status he enjoyed from his “Holden Caulfield novel”, Salinger’s failure to leave much of a footprint leaves Charyn with little more to work with than speculation built on the historical record. Although Charyn’s depiction of Salinger’s coming-of-age is quite poignant, his fictional exploits seem improbable. Why place Salinger at every big event in the European theater (Utah Beach on D-Day, the deliverance of Paris, the Battle of the Bulge, and the liberation of the death camp at Dachau)? Similarly, why include celebrities like Walter Winchell, Earnest Hemingway, Frank Costello, and Eugene O’Neill’s daughter? All of this seems gratuitous and only suggests that the story may be too contrived to be believable. What is missing is the internal life that a retelling of the historical record, no matter how personalized, simply can’t provide.
With this being said, Charyns treatment of the Salinger family is loving, humorous, and entirely believable. Despite her not being Jewish, his mother, Miriam, is the classic Jewish mother. She is a lovable mixture of kvetching and caring, sending wool socks with every mailing while complaining about his war bride. His father, Sol’s focus is primarily business. Although undoubtedly true, the importation of ham by a Jewish businessman seems farfetched. Salinger’s sister, Doris, is the most likeable family member. She is a protective and loving older sibling, who takes charge at all the right moments.
Despite its flaws, SERGEANT SALINGER is an engaging story that raises intriguing suggestions about the hypothetical birth of one of our most cherished coming-of-age stories of youthful disillusionment.