Zombie Magazine’s Last Interview With J.D. Salinger

by Penn Collins

In light of his recent passing, Zombie Magazine would like to run what we believe is the last interview ever with acclaimed writer and known recluse, J.D. Salinger.

To receive this call was mind-numbing.  J.D. Salinger is in Los Angeles for 20 hours and would like to do a brief interview with a local periodical to discuss nothing in particular.  According to his agent, J.D. Salinger had been taking stock of his life the past few years and wanted a public forum in which to share his thoughts (tragically, for the last time).

The location of our meeting, a rooftop cabana at the SLS Hotel in West Hollywood, seemed odd for the world’s most noted recluse, but the agent assured me it had everything to do with security in and out of the hotel as well as exposure to California sun, which Salinger hadn’t seen in over 58 years.

I waited on the roof deck for 20 minutes past our proposed meeting time, not knowing who to look for, let alone what to expect.  Suddenly the older gentleman who was swimming laps in the pool since before I arrived pops out of the water, towels off, sizes me up, and, after taking a sip of water, announces, “Penn, I presume?”

“Yes, sir.  May I presume that this is Mr. Salinger?”

“Call me J.  Sorry for the delay.  I always keep ‘em waiting.”

With that, the interview began.

PC:  Well, since your agent informed me that I will have you for a while, I will start off small.  This seems like a very strange venue in which to conduct an interview with someone who has so famously wished to evade the public eye.

JDS: (Smiling devilishly) That’s not a question, Penn.

PC: Fair enough.  Why here?

JDS: I wish I had a more satisfying answer for you, but the truth is that it’s the closest hotel to Cedars-Sinai Medical Center, where I get evaluated every couple years.

PC:  Ok.  Small question out of the way. Next question: What have you been up to since the world has last heard from you?

JDS:  That, my friend, is a truly daunting question.  But I’m a man of my word, so let’s start addressing my recent activities.  Now as you may or may not know, I have grandchildren.  Do people know that?  Sorry, I’m not sure to what degree I should provide context for these things?

PC: As your interviewer, I know that you have grandchildren, but I don’t believe that it’s public knowledge.  So you’ve been spending time with your grandchildren?

JDS:  Sort of.  They live with their parents, my children, in Tennessee, so I don’t see them much, as Cornish, New Hampshire isn’t really on the way to anything.  But I’ve been playing Call of Duty with them on Xbox Live.  It’s amazing.  Have you played it?

PC: I have not.  I hear it’s quite popular though.

JDS: It damn well should be popular.  You can play anyone in the world.  Working together, killing Krauts.

PC: What’s your handle?

JDS: PeopleHuntr1919

PC: What else have you been doing?  I’d like to say I know more, but you really haven’t given the media much to work with.

JDS:  All part of my plan, son.  We all have plans.  But that’s a conversation for another day.  I have been writing.  Writing and loving.  Let me preclude your next question by telling you that I have written about anything and everything.  More often than not, ten hours a day.  Epics about snowball fights, novellas about stranded motorists, short stories about mice.  I’ve been writing.  And no, I don’t think you’ll ever get to read them.  They are my legacy to my family.

PC:  What about the pleas of people asking you to share your work?

JDS: (visibly stirred, but not angry) Those pleas have fallen on deaf ears.  I have given the people work and in many ways, it has cost me my life.  I’m a writer, I will continue to write, but not for “the people”.  I write for myself, and my family.  I never owed anyone anything.  I gave something and now I’m done.

At this point, Salinger looks up, scanning the sky and landscape, as if inspiration for his next sentence will come from a visual cue.  However, a quick wave and nod of the head shows that he was simply trying to flag down our waiter. He orders plaintain chips with hummus and a pomegranate caipirinha.  None of these items are listed on the menu.

The server replies with, “Of course, Mr. Salinger”.  Salinger gives me a knowing wink.

JDS: Next question.

PC: Are you happy?

JDS:  I don’t know.  I’ve written the quintessential “Great American Novel”.  That phrase makes me sick, you should know. I’ve written it, which is more than most people do with their whole lives.  But here’s the thing about accomplishment.  The novelty wears off.  Anyone who does something great can’t be sated forever.  In fact, I believe the opposite.  If you’re the type of person doing something great, you’re the type of person who will be frustrated by the fact that you only did it once. That’s not to say I’m great, but I don’t think it is arrogant of me to say that a lot of other people have said that.  I haven’t created a swan song.  I don’t think I’m going to.  You can’t constantly produce masterpieces.  Unless you’re Radiohead.

PC: You are a fan of popular music?

JDS: I’m a fan of Radiohead.  I thought being able to name your own price for “In Rainbows” was a stroke of genius.

In the name of professionalism, I keep myself from following up on the Radiohead revelation, despite the fact that my body is itching with curiosity.  I decide to stay on-point with my line of questions.  But before I can act on my decision, Salinger does this:

JDS: What are you doing tonight?  Later tonight?

PC:  Dinner with my girlfriend and nothing else.  Are you asking me out?

JDS:   Yeah.  I am going to go shower and relax for a little bit.  Then I’ve got dinner plans at my friend’s house in the hills.  Come to my room, I’ll give you the address.  Pick me up after dinner at 10 and we will continue this.  Sorry to cut this short, but I’ve got a low blood sugar thing going on and it makes me really ADD.  I figure if this is my last interview, I want to be sharp.

We enter Salinger’s hotel room.  The first thing I notice is the “Do Not Disturb” tag still hanging on the door handle.  The bed is unmade.  There is an empty bottle of Vueve Cliquot sitting in an ice bucket, swimming in water.

JDS:  Check out this shower.  The water pressure is amazing!

He leads me to the bathroom, where he turns the shower on.  The room quickly feels up with steam.  The water pressure is, in fact, quite remarkable.  I look towards the toilet and see a magazine with Heidi Montag on the cover, as well as another one with cast of  Lost that simply says “The Final Season:  All Your Questions Will Be Answered”

JDS:  Here it is.  Meet me here.   Use a map. GPS gets pretty screwed up in the hills.

PC:  Thanks.  See you at 10.

JDS:  Cool.  My agent gave me your number.  I will text you if I’m running late.

I go home, shower, and reread half of Franny and Zooey while listening to In Rainbows to try and make sense of what just happened.  I get dressed feeling as though I know even less about Salinger than I did when I woke up this morning.

I pick up Salinger right on time.  He is waiting out front of a house off of Mulholland Drive that is completely obscured by shrubbery.  He’s with two men who appear to be of Persian descent.  Salinger only acknowledges their presence once.  When all three approach the back seat of my car, Salinger says, matter-of-factly, “Famir, you got bitch”, as one of the Persian gentleman slides into the middle seat.

JDS: Can you plug this in?  It’s all cued up.

Salinger hands me an iPhone.  When I plug it into my stereo, I hear a remix of MGMT’s “Time to Pretend”.

JDS: Turn it up.  Best album in the last five years, hands down.  Oh, let’s go to Santa Monica Airport.  We can be at the Palms by one.

PC: You’re leaving?

JDS: We’re leaving.

PC: I’m sorry, I can’t go anywhere tonight.  Tomorrow is my son’s birthday.

JDS: Well, get your punches in while you can.  Do you have any questions?  You’ve got about thirty minutes before we get there.

PC:  Yeah.  What are you doing?  Have you always had the desire to be more social?  This is not….

JDS:  This isn’t what?

PC: I was just going to say that this isn’t really behavior characteristic of a known recluse.

JDS:  The only characteristic of a recluse is that you never know what they’re up to, Penn.

He raises a glass of champagne, seemingly “cheersing” this statement.  I have absolutely no idea from where the glasses or champagne materialized.

Salinger spends most of the rest of the car ride speaking to the VIP Services desk at the Palms on a second cell phone.

When we arrive at the private jet terminal at Santa Monica Airport he sincerely thanks me for the company and apologizes for leaving so quickly.  His statements are punctuated by a six-step “goodbye” handshake that I have difficulty keeping up with.

Like the rest of the world, I would never see or hear from J.D. Salinger again.