Sigh

I get it, New Yorker writers and editors: you knew J.D. Salinger well, and few can say that. And your appreciations are genuine, and it is understandable that you'd devote the entire 'Talk of the Town' section to them. The insights you share in honor of his memory--about books, writing, writers--are interesting. But I have to question this one:

In American writing, there are three perfect books, which seem to speak to every reader and condition: “Huckleberry Finn,” “The Great Gatsby,” and “The Catcher in the Rye.” Of the three, only “Catcher” defines an entire region of human experience: it is—in French and Dutch as much as in English—the handbook of the adolescent heart.

No, Mr. Gopnik: they speak to every (white) male reader, and define an entire region of the (white) male experience. Guy bonding, guy adolescence, guy coming of age. And there's a lot to be said for that, but don't try to pass it off as universal.

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It's funny because I've referenced, on these pages, two writers whose stories speak to my condition: David Bezmozgis and Gary Shteyngart. They're both guys, but their books, stories are less male-centric than 'Catcher in the Rye.' Kind of. I mean, "Natasha" in "Natasha and other Stories" is very male, but the other stories aren't, really, and that book spoke to me to the point that I felt it in my bones. You'd never think to suggest a book about an immigrant childhood as a narrative of a universal experience--nor should you--but the point is, you'd never even think about it. But it doesn't seem like Adam Gopnik thought twice about extending the Holden Caulfield experience to the rest of us.