Holden Caulfield is less a voice of a generation and more an exhausting, privileged teenager trapped in a loop of endless cynicism. His constant complaints about “phonies” lose their edge after the first three chapters. The plot meanders aimlessly through New York City without any real character growth or resolution. Salinger captures teenage angst accurately, but accuracy does not automatically equal an engaging or profound narrative. Ultimately, the book feels dated, whiny, and deeply tedious to get through.
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Things We Forget 
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