The New Yorker has made available all his stories from their archive. So great.
I’ve always hoped against hope that Salinger did not stop writing, that he’d only stopped publishing. And that yes, there’s a vault with a few manuscripts, and instructions for posthumous publication. A secret lonely safe containing one — two, dare we dream? — of the best novels ever written. I don’t want to lose that hope.
★ Thursday, 28 January 2010