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Roy Verspoor
10 December 2009
Echos of Eliot in “A Perfect Day for Bananafish”:
Reading Seymour Glass as a Fisher King Figure
J.D. Salinger is one of the most famous authors alive today, yet he is often thought of as a
persona of the past. His reclusive nature and the now canonic status of his most famous novel,
The Catcher in the Rye, set him apart from contemporary authors as someone who has already
accomplished his artistic legacy. The Catcher in the Rye has also become a staple of many high
school classrooms. It has become the quintessential bildungsroman of 20th century American
culture and has been devoured by young adult audiences since its debut. Yet, while young readers
flock toward Holden Caulfield, many high-brow scholars tend to shy away. Much of the
academic, deep critical analysis of Salinger’s catalog has dissipated since the 1960's. Once the
genre of Young Adult Literature swallows an author, it can be difficult to pull them back into the
post-undergraduate literary conversation.
Of course not everyone falls into this trap, and it can often be fruitful to revisit a text
whose critical door has been recently closed. Many of Salinger’s texts involve themes that are
much more adult and much more literary than the standard coming-of-age tale. Though Salinger
frequently employs children as major characters, that does not qualify his dismissal by adult
readers and critics. One of Salinger’s most significant stories, “A Perfect Day for Bananafish,”
invites further criticism. One particular aspect of the story, which has been critically
unacknowledged, is the story’s clear allusions to T.S Eliot. These allusions create a new thematic
atmosphere and redefine Seymour Glass’ character. However, before directing the conversation
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to these instances where Eliot is echoed, it would be helpful to establish a context.
The story was first published in The New Yorker on January 31st, 1948 and was later
compiled in Salinger’s collection Nine Stories. The New Yorker considered the story such a
success that they offered Salinger “a first rejection contract” which “meant Salinger was paid a
yearly retainer of several hundred dollars to submit each new story to the magazine” (Alexander
124). The story is the first of Salinger’s to involve members of the Glass family. Salinger would
recycle and elaborate on the Glass characters throughout his career, both in short story and novel
form.
“A Perfect Day for Bananafish” is a technical successful. The story follows the “tight
three-act structure of a well-made play” (French 79). In the first “act,” the reader is introduced to
Seymour Glass’ wife, Muriel, through a conversation she has with her mother in the couple’s
hotel room. The second “act,” contains Seymour’s conversation with a young girl, Sybil
Carpenter, on the beach. The final “act,” has Seymour return to his hotel room, where he fires “a
bullet through his right temple” (Salinger 26). The inevitable question becomes: why would this
character, Seymour Glass, be driven to commit suicide? Previous criticism has centered itself on
this question and come to some general conclusions.
Many scholars have presented theories on Seymour’s motivations for suicide. These
interpretations can be categorized based on how Seymour’s character is read. The third-person
narration employed by Salinger and his use of short, objective sentences, cause the narrative to
be somewhat emotionless. The reader does not hear what is going on inside Seymour’s head and
whatever emotions he is feeling are not mentioned. All analysis must stem from dialogue and
brief moments of exposition. The most commonly noted source for Seymour’s suicide is his
post-traumatic disorder. Alexander writes, “the story is successful because it captures what it is
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like to be a soldier so emotionally damaged by the war he can no longer function in ordinary
society” (126). Muriel’s conversation with her mother alludes to Seymour’s involvement in
World War II, as well as his strange, erratic behavior since. It seems a likely reading, but it is also
a bit too simple. It does not account for Seymour’s relationship with Sybil or many of the other
specific details, certain colors and phrases, which Salinger overtly emphasizes.
Other readings see Seymour as less of a victim of the war and more of a negative
character. Some critics have suggested that Seymour killed himself because of some sexual
frustration. Gwynn and Blotner wrote, “Seymour is destroyed by his own hypersensitivity
pathetically heightened by lack of love” (19-20). Though his relationship with Muriel seems
tumultuous, Seymour does not appear to be concerned with sex or romance at all. When he
eventually returns to his hotel room to unload his revolver, his wife is “lying asleep on one of the
twin beds” (26) and the reader can assume she is still wearing her “white silk dressing gown,
which was all that she was wearing” (4) from earlier in the story. There is no apparent barrier
between Seymour and his young wife, and there also appears to be no sexual frustration. Another
reading views Seymour’s sexual frustration as perverse. Metcalf highlights the strangeness of
Seymour’s relationship with a young girl and claims that he commits suicide out of guilt over his
“sublimated pedophilic desires” (245). Again, this claim falls short without evidence. Using
children as main characters is one of Salinger’s staples. It is far more likely that Salinger was
using Sybil as a symbol of innocence and purity, as children are typically seen thematically,
rather than an abnormal object of sexual desire.
There are also interpretations of Seymour that portray him in a positive light. These
interpretations typically stem from readings which are “philosophical or religious ones that
consider information about Seymour Glass from later stories” (Alsen 94). These critics see
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Seymour as a saint-like figure. His suicide is read as a form of sacrifice and Seymour is invested
with a certain spirituality. As Alsen describes, some “have argued that Seymour died as a saint
who had made as much spiritual progress in this particular lifetime as he could and therefore had
no more reason to live” (94-5). By considering Seymour on a spiritual level the tone of the story
changes; it can now be read on a religious level.
Some level of spirituality is evident in the story. Many critics reach this interpretation by
first citing subsequent Salinger works; however, there is also evidence for this conclusion within
the story itself. The major warrant for this claim is the aforementioned allusions to T.S. Eliot.
Salinger’s allusion to Eliot would not be peculiar. In one of the few stories published prior to “A
Perfect Day For Bananafish,” Salinger enters into a clear dialogue with Eliot. This story was one
of Salinger’s longest, “The Inverted Forest,” and told the tale of Raymond Ford, a poet. One of
Ford’s poems in the story reads, “Not wasteland, but a great inverted forest / with all foliage
underground” (Alsen 48). Mentioning any “wasteland” in literature, especially during Salinger’s
generation, immediately leads the reader to Eliot. Warren French was the first to expound on the
allusion. He writes,
The “wasteland” referred to in the poem must surely be the twentieth-century
West as emblemized by Eliot. Ford’s poem answers Eliot by asserting that the
world is not really all wasteland, all “phony,” but that the “nice” world exists
beneath the surface (in the mind) where beautiful, green things grow that cannot be
observed externally. (French 71).
Salinger appears to agree with Eliot that the modern world is becoming a wasteland of
superficiality and purposelessness, but his reaction is different. Eliot’s poem invites the reader to
make a change. The Christ-figure at the conclusion of “The Waste Land” asks, “Shall I at least
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set my lands in order?” (Eliot 426). Salinger’s vision of the wasteland is an inverted forest where
beauty is only found beneath the surface. He is not advocating a change of the surface, but rather
a discovery of the hidden beauty beneath.
Salinger carried these ideas into “A Perfect Day for Bananafish.” As Paul Levine notes,
“Raymond Ford, the talented poet, is Salinger’s misfit hero, [...] later to be developed into
Seymour Glass” (93). Levine goes on to define a misfit hero as “a moral hero forced to
compromise his integrity with a pragmatic society. What disaffiliates the hero is his peculiar offcenter vision which sensitizes and distorts his sense of truth in a false world” (92). There are
clear connections between this definition of a “misfit hero” and a Christ-figure, and Levine
makes these connections. However, these connections are never extended to include Seymour
Glass and his death. Thus, “A Perfect Day for Bananafish” warrants a critical revisit. Seymour
can be read as a Christ-figure, but he is not looking to put the superficial world in order. He is
looking for the hidden beauty of the world and he finds this solace in the innocence of children.
To understand Seymour as a Christ-figure, the reader must first sense the religiosity of
the story, which is established through Eliot’s influence. The first reference to Eliot is heard in
the name of the young girl Seymour befriends, Sybil Carpenter. The epigraph to “The Waste
Land” refers to Sibyl, who was granted eternal life by Apollo, but forgot to ask for eternal youth.
While in her aged and decrepit state she is asked, when translated, “Sibyl, what do you want?” to
which she replies “I want to die” (epigraph). This Sibyl (spelt with the “i” before the “y”)
symbolizes age without youth and contrasts with the lively Sybil created by Salinger. The
reversal of spelling could have been intentional, used to highlight the contrast. This ironic
association casts a dismal light on the young girl and reflects on Seymour, who also appears to
want to die. The unsettling implications of her first name are balanced by Sybil’s surname,
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Carpenter. Christ was a carpenter and Sybil’s last name foreshadows the Christ-figure imagery
seen more strongly later in the story.
The link between Eliot’s “Sibyl” and Salinger’s “Sybil” could simply have been
coincidence were it the only potential reference in the story; however, there are others and the
second instance is much more explicit. When talking with Sybil about another girl, Seymour
comments, “Ah, Sharon Lipschutz [...] How that names comes up. Mixing memory and desire”
(Salinger 19). This line is an oblique reference to Eliot and not, as some critics have claimed, an
indication of Seymour’s pedophilia or sexual frustration. The first lines of “The Waste Land”
read, “April is the cruellest month, breeding / Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing / Memory and
desire” (Eliot 1-3). Seymour’s phrase is a direct echo because he is in a similar situation. Eliot
refers to the springtime as cruel because it is a time of rebirth, but rebirth is not always certain.
While plants may spring to life again each year, culture and humanity are not so cyclical. Eliot
saw culture as collapsing under the weight of a mechanized and superficial society. “The Waste
Land” highlights this fall through a series of bleak images and scenes, and the poem culminates
with the question of how to correct this wasted world.
The solution for the problem, in Eliot’s eyes, was through religion. The Christ-symbol in
“The Waste Land” is referred to as “The Fisher King.” The lines, “I sat upon the shore / Fishing,
with the arid plain behind me / Shall I at least set my lands in order?” (424-426) refer to this
Fisher King. With the wasteland behind him, the figure must decide if he should correct the
world. Eliot’s own footnote acknowledges the Fisher King allusion in these lines; another more
detailed footnote reads, “Eliot was particularly indebted to [...] the North European myth of the
Fisher King, ruler of a waste land blighted by an evil spell which also rendered the king
impotent. [...] In connection with the Fisher King [...] the use of the fish as a symbol in early
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Christianity; the title “Fishers of men,” bestowed by Christ on his apostles” (996). Returning to
the morality and virtue of religion could remedy the modern world.
Salinger subtlety plays with the concept of a Christ-like Fisher King in “A Perfect Day
for Banana Fish.” The scene between Sybil and Seymour begins with Sybil walking “in the
direction of Fisherman’s Pavilion. Stopping only to sink a foot in a soggy, collapsed castle, she
was soon out of the area reserved for guests of the hotel.” (Salinger 15). Seymour is found in the
area labeled “Fisherman’s Pavilion.” It is peculiar for Salinger to include this exact name; the
reader rarely hears any other proper place names. It could be a nod to Eliot’s Fisher King. There
is also a divide set up between this Fisherman’s Pavilion and the area of the hotel guests. The
hotel is the story’s wasteland; it is where the “soggy, collapsed castle” of culture is found.
Seymour and Sybil are two of the few who avoid this wasteland.
Acknowledging these allusions to Eliot links the story with the tone of “The Waste
Land.” It brings in wasteland imagery and also themes of religiosity. These allusions trigger
many of the details in the story to take on new, symbolic meaning. The first paragraph of the
story, which describes Seymour’s wife Muriel, takes on a new tone of superficiality:
She read an article in a women’s pocket-size magazine, called “Sex Is Fun–
Or Hell.” She washed her comb and brush. She took the spot out of the skirt
of her beige suit. She moved the button on her Saks blouse. She tweezed out
two freshly surfaced hairs in her mole. [...]She was sitting on the window seat
and had almost finished putting lacquer on the nails of her left hand. She was
a girl who for a ringing phone dropped exactly nothing. (Salinger 3-4)
Every move that Muriel makes is focused on appearance. Though she has been waiting for over
two hours for the operator to call her room, she does not move to pick up the phone. She is more
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concerned with perfecting her outward appearance. Her personality is removed from the lines.
When talking with her mother, Muriel notes that Seymour’s nickname for her is “Miss Spiritual
Tramp 1948” (Salinger 7). This indicates Muriel’s spiritual promiscuity; religion is not a major
part of her life.
Other hotel guests are mentioned in brief, but maintain these superficial characteristics.
The hotel is described as being “monopolized” by “ninety-seven New York advertising men”
(Salinger 3). These men are lumped together as a group, much like the lumped crowds of Eliot’s
unreal city. Muriel mentions a psychiatrist she met at the hotel, whom she consulted about
Seymour’s strange behavior. The doctor is described as “in the bar all day long” (Salinger 11).
Eliot also includes a bar scene in the second section of “The Waste Land.” While others spend
their time in the bar, Seymour spends his indoors time at “the Ocean Room, playing the piano”
(Salinger 10). This is another one of the rare instances in the story when a specific place name is
mentioned. It is used again in conjunction with Seymour and again has positive connotations.
The ocean and water represent purity. In the final movement of “The Waste Land” water
symbolizes potential revitalization. Eliot writes, “Here is no water but only rock / Rock and no
water and the sandy road / [...] If there were water we should stop and drink / Amongst the rock
one cannot stop or think” (331-336). Like the Christ-figure of “The Waste Land,” Seymour
becomes associated with fishing and the purity of water.
Salinger employs various motifs to develop the binary between the superficial guests of
the hotel and the uncorrupted bubble of Sybil and Seymour. One of these is the opposition
between burnt and unburnt skin. Muriel is “so sunburned [she] can hardly move” (Salinger 9).
Though she used sun-block she is “burned anyway” and “all over” (Salinger 10). Seymour is not
burnt at all; “he’s so pale” (Salinger 13). Sybil is also unburnt. Salinger writes, “Mrs. Carpenter
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was putting sun-tan oil on Sybil’s shoulders, spreading it down over the delicate, winglike blades
of her back” (Salinger 14-15). Sybil, like Seymour, is protected from the sun; they have not yet
become burnt, a characteristic one might associate with fire and brimstone. Sybil’s “winglike”
back also reminds the reader of an angel, further emphasizing the girl’s purity and innocence.
Another major contrast in the story is developed between the colors blue and yellow. This
is an opposition that Seymour seems to be actively developing. The ocean water would be
associated with the color blue and represent purity. The color yellow becomes negative through
Seymour’s bananafish story: “[Bananafish] swim into a hole where there’s a lot of bananas.
They’re very ordinary-looking fish when they swim in. But once they get in, they behave like
pigs. [...] Naturally, after that they’re so fat they can’t get out of the hole again” (Salinger 23).
The conclusion of the story has the bananafish die of banana fever. The story is delivered with
Sybil as the audience, causing it to be very childish, but the moral is clear. It is a tale against
excess and materialism. The bananafish are like people who center themselves on the material
world, gobbling up commodities until they can no longer. The fish are yellow and corrupted.
Seymour’s “trunks were royal blue” (Salinger 19); however, Sybil’s bathing suit is yellow. Of
course, this clashes with Seymour’s binary, so when he sees Sybil he remarks, “If there’s one
thing I like, it’s a blue bathing suit.” Sybil stares at him and then response, “This is a yellow. [...]
This is a yellow” (Salinger 17). Seymour has already begun to formulate his bananafish story. In
his mind, blue symbolizes purity and yellow symbolizes immorality. As far as Seymour is
concerned, Sybil is wearing blue; she is like him and she is like the water.
Sybil’s first lines in the story play with the homophone of Seymour’s name. She repeats,
“See more glass” (Salinger 14). It is true that Seymour does seem to see more. Throughout his
playful conversation with Sybil, he subtly instructs her and instills moral advice. The moral of
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the bananafish story is the most obvious example, but there are others. Sybil is jealous of another
unseen girl, Sharon Lipschutz, because Sharon got to sit with Seymour as he played piano. Sybil
believes that Seymour should have pushed Sharon away, to which Seymour replies, “Oh no. No.
I couldn’t do that” (Salinger 18). Seymour later goes to say, “What I like particularly about
[Sharon] is that she never does anything mean to little dogs in the lobby of the hotel. [...] You
probably won’t believe this, but some little girls like to poke that little dog with balloon sticks.
Sharon doesn’t. She’s never mean or unkind. That’s why I like her so much.” (Salinger 21-22).
Seymour’s example is clearly referring one of Sybil’s previous deeds because “Sybil was silent”
(22) afterwards. Her guilt leads Sybil to respond with a childish confession,“‘I like to chew
candles,’ she said finally” (Salinger 22). The conversation is sporadic and playful, but it is not
completely nonsensical. Seymour is presenting fundamental Christian messages of equality,
kindness and peace.
The final part of the story has Seymour return to his hotel room where he commits
suicide. The similarities between his walk back and Christ’s walk to the cross are noticeable.
Salinger writes, “The young man put on his robe, closed the lapels tight, and jammed his towel
into his pocket. He picked up the slimy wet, cumbersome float and put it under his arm”
(Salinger 25). Seymour is wearing a robe, and the reader is reminded of Christ’s clothing. He is
also carrying the “cumbersome float” which could be read as a symbol for Christ’s cross. The
float is the object which allowed Seymour and Sybil to ride on the pure ocean waves. It could be
compared to religious faith, which allows the faithful to stay afloat in a corrupt world. Earlier
Sybil comments on the float, “It needs air,” to which Seymour cryptically responds, “You’re
right. It needs more air than I’m willing to admit” (Salinger 17-18). Like any good Christian,
Seymour’s faith can never be strong enough; it could be filled endlessly. Carrying this symbolic
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float, Seymour “plodded alone through the soft, hot sand toward the hotel” (Salinger 25).
Seymour is alone now, like Christ at his death, and he is crossing the desert-like, wasteland-like
sands toward the superficial hotel.
Once inside he steps into an elevator along with a young woman. The elevator begins its
ascension and Seymour accuses the woman of looking at his feet. The woman, who wears “zinc
salve” (Salinger 25) on her sunburnt nose, can only respond, “I beg your pardon?” (25). Seymour
lashes out, “If you want to look at my feet, say so [...] But don’t be a God-damned sneak about it.
[...] I have two normal feet and I can’t see the slightest God-damned reason why anybody should
stare at them” (Salinger 25-26). Seymour is, of course, frustrated because he knows he is
approaching his death. He will soon be leaving the world, leaving both the corruptness of the
hotel and Sybil’s innocence and purity. The burnt-nosed woman reintroduces the sunburnt motif.
Seymour’s repetition of “God-damned” in the short exchange references the impious nature of
the hotel guests. His attention to his feet reminds the reader of Christ’s crucifixion wounds.
Earlier in the story, Sybil mentions that her “daddy’s coming tomorrow on a nairiplane”
(Salinger 16). Seymour responds, “Well, it’s about time he got here, your daddy. I’ve been
expecting him hourly. Hourly.” (Salinger 16). The subject is dropped and never mentioned again.
Seymour’s apparent familiarity with Sybil’s father is the only evidence for any connection
between the two. If the reader accepts that Sybil is symbolic for a pure and youthful angel and
Seymour is a Christ-figure in a wasteland, then it follows that this unseen father who is arriving
from the clouds is a symbol for God. Seymour is waiting in the wasteland, as Christ did on earth,
until he is sacrificed through death
The story ends as Seymour “aimed the pistol, and fired a bullet through his right temple”
(Salinger 26). Even the use of the words “right temple” create a minor sense of religious
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sacrifice. Salinger’s allusions to Eliot and some of the symbolism of “The Waste Land” cause the
reader to interpret “A Perfect Day for Bananafish” from a new, religious perspective. The pieces
of evidence that indicate Seymour to be a Christ-figure are subtle, but they appear frequently
throughout the short, dialogue-heavy story. For instance, while talking with Sybil, Seymour
absentmindedly mentions, “I’m Capricorn” (Salinger 18). Interestingly, Christmas, the birth of
Christ, also falls until the Capricorn sign. These small but specific details appear consistently
and, when gathered together, create a whole and holy interpretation of Seymour.
Works Cited
Alexander, Paul. Salinger: A Biography. Los Angeles: Renaissance Books, 1999. Print.
Alsen, Edward. A Reader’s Guide to J.D. Salinger. Westport: Greenwood Press, 2002. Print.
Baskett, Sam. “The Splendid/Squalid World of J.D Salinger.” Wisconsin Studies in
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Eliot, T.S. “The Waste Land.” The American Tradition in Literature. Ed. George Perkins and
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