Sexual Promiscuity in "A Perfect Day for Bananafish"

Disclaimer: This is not a "concise critique" by any means, so if you're looking for a short read, this is not the blog post for you.

In our discussion of Seymour in "A Perfect Day for Bananafish" this week, several of us had an uncomfortable feeling reading Seymour's interaction with Sybil, the young girl he meets on the beach. The question of whether Seymour was a pedophile or a general "creep" arose, but we left it unanswered. Instead, we (somewhat) concluded that Seymour was more comfortable talking to children, and that his peculiar behavior came from a place of mental instability, not malicious or perverted intention. Furthermore, Mr. Mitchell added that throughout Salinger's stories, Seymour never has a hint of pedophilia or suspicious sexual activity. Even so, he did acknowledge the possibility that Seymour's actions were sexual, and he was aware that students have frequently raised the same questions in recent years.

It's possible that there truly was no perverted motivation for Seymour's actions, but regardless of whether or not this is the case, that uncomfortable feeling while reading this story still exists. Why? What about Seymour and this seemingly innocent scene with Sybil is so off-putting?  What hints, words, or actions tip us off to feeling this way? These are some of the questions I'll try to answer here.

First of all, Seymour is not presented as a stable or likable character. He's introduced in a strained conversation between Muriel and her mother, and not in a flattering way at all. He's the man that does "that funny business with the trees", calls Muriel "Miss Spiritual Tramp of 1948", says horrible things to Granny about "her plans for passing away", and who Dr. Sivetski believes "may completely lose control". Even before we meet him, we're suspicious of him. Yes, Muriel's mother comes off as a bit of an overly-concerned helicopter mom, but her issues with Seymour are thought-provoking nonetheless.

When we finally meet Seymour, we're not immediately told it's him, potentially leading us to overlook some of the more subtle, discreet language he uses and some of the peculiar actions he performs. It's not until you read the passage a second time, or very closely, that you fully pick up on some of the key details that lead us to believe something devious is going on.

When I read the story a second time, the first few lines of Seymour's 'part' of the story stuck out to me. When Sybil initially approaches him and asks if he's going in the water, he responds by saying "I was waiting for you," and then asks "what's new?" I can see two distinct ways of reading this; either Seymour is an older (sane) adult talking cutely and innocently with a young child, or he is saying "you" in that weird, suggestive voice that I know all of us have heard before and can recognize. Maybe a bit far-fetched right off the bat, but as we continue on with the interaction, the narrator's language begins to shed some light on the true nature of the interaction.

Only a few lines later, when Sybil kicks sand in Seymour's face, we're given two quotes that we really don't know what to do with. One is, "Not in my face, baby", the word "baby" being a strange addition there, and the other being, "I've been expecting him [Sybil's father] hourly. Hourly". Why is he so concerned with her father? I don't have an answer to this question. But even the language that the narrator uses here, "putting his hand on Sybil's ankle", seems strange to me. Again, a very plain and possibly unimportant detail, but it plants a seed in my head.

Moving down a few more lines, we run into Seymour's comment on Sybil's bathing suit, which I think deserves to be quoted with some context:

"'That's a fine bathing suit you have on. If there's one thing I like, it's a blue bathing suit.' Sybil stared at him, then looked down at her protruding stomach. 'This is a yellow,' she said. 'This is a yellow'. 'It is? Come a little closer.' Sybil took a step forward. 'You're absolutely right. What a fool I am.'"

Every siren in my head went off after reading this passage, and I'm sure the same phenomenon has occurred for other readers as well. Any sensible adult, particularly a male adult, knows not to comment on young children's clothing, especially not swimwear or undergarments. At some level, it's a disconcerting breach of social norms, but on another level, it's concerning that he would even think to comment on Sybil's swimsuit. Additionally, blue is not a color often confused with yellow, not even for those who are colorblind. As a reader, Seymour's compliment and confusion act as a ploy to get Sybil to come closer to him, and it works. Both the comment and the mistake seem so ridiculous that it's hard to believe it's anything else. Furthermore, his, "You're absolutely right. What a fool I am." sounds like a disingenuous,  pathetic attempt at hiding the fact that he made the mistake on purpose.

Another few lines, and another concerning scene presents itself. "'Sybil,' he said, 'you're looking fine. It's good to see you. Tell me about yourself.' He reached in front of him and took both of Sybil's ankle's in his hands. 'I'm Capricorn,' he said. 'What are you?'" I hesitate to make too much out of "you're looking fine", since this may have been a formality during the time period that I am unaware of. However, we do see his fascination/obsession/fetish with Sybil's ankle's again, except this time he takes hold of both. It's hard for me to picture what exactly is being done here - is Sybil standing and he's laying on his belly grabbing her ankles? Are they both lying down and he's holding his arms outstretched while holding her ankles? Is he standing or kneeling while she lays on the ground, ankle's held above her body? Regardless of the orientation, it's weird, and it's creepy.

Shortly afterwards, we have the discussion of Sharon Lipschutz and the piano bench. I won't quote the entire passage, but every line is important. There's an interesting dynamic here; Sybil seems to be jealous that Sharon shared the bench with Seymour, and Seymour is trying to convince Sybil that there was nothing he could do about it, as if he and Sybil were in a relationship with strict boundaries. Especially noteworthy is the line where Seymour says, "I pretended she was you", which could be read as cute, but again could also be read as inappropriate. And just before he suggests catching a bananafish, he utters the most puzzling and problematic statement of the passage, which is, "Ah, Sharon Lipschutz, how that name comes up. Mixing memory and desire." Another line that leaves the reader in the dust with only questions to guide them. The questions here are; what kind of memories?  What kind of desire? Maybe this stone is best left unturned.

Eventually, after all the menial progressions, we arrive at the title event, which is catching bananafish. I could discuss the peculiarity in Seymour asking where Sybil lives, repeatedly trying to hold her hand, discussing why he likes Sharon, and wading so far out, but I won't. Instead I'll comment on the final two events that bring the idea of pedophelia to the forefront.

In some respects, Seymour creates the fictional story of the bananafish to entertain Sybil. After all, he does make it sound exciting and wonderful, and it adds a bit of fun for the child besides floating out in the open water. However, when the reader has the baggage of Seymour's previous comments and actions weighing on them, it's hard to see the bananafish story as anything but another ploy - much like the purposeful misrecognition of the color of Sybil's bathing suit. The bananafish myth gives Sybil a reason to spend more time with Seymour, and it gives him leverage in the interaction. He can make her do anything he wants her to do, as long as he uses the narrative of the fiction he's created. If readers didn't pick up on the first red flag, they surely picked up on this one. This scenario has been used countless times in films, writing, and in real life - a cunning, sly, older man creates some fictional character or magical story to fascinate and infatuate a younger, more naive character, whose ignorance eventually leads to their harm or manipulation.

It's possible that this scenario played out completely in this story. The bananafish story works; it allows Seymour to put Sybil in a vulnerable and uninformed position, and he takes advantage. Following the trend of his concerning attraction to Sybil's feet, he "suddenly picked up one of Sybil's wet feet, which were drooping over the end of the float, and kissed the arch." and Sybil does not react positively. The move was not romantic, but it was sudden in a way that suggests that it was daring, premeditated, and controversial, much like the trope of the awkward kiss that follows several moments of uncomfortable and loaded silence. Seymour finally got in his kiss at the arch of the foot, the moment he had been waiting for and planning since they met on the shore. His story and his charm had worked; he had gotten Sybil to trust him and follow his orders. Now that trust was somewhat tainted, but it didn't matter - he had already achieved the prize.

An extreme take on the story and Seymour's character, yes, but a plausible one. I don't doubt Mr. Mitchell when he claims that Salinger's stories do not indicate that Seymour frequently behaves this way, but I do think that the door for possibility has not been (and can never be) completely shut. Seymour may suffer from many different ailments and issues and not from pedophilia, and this story may highlight more about his social preferences than his sexual tastes (literally). But I personally believe that not acknowledging the possibility of promiscuous sexual attraction towards Sybil and Sharon would be ignoring a perfectly viable interpretation of Seymour's character and the nature of the story. As I've tried to outline here, our feeling of discomfort and uneasiness does not come from nowhere; if you read closely enough, it's evident that there are plenty of details that trigger our emotional response to this story.