I used the following passage of J.D. Salinger’s “Catcher in the Rye”:
“And the band started playing one of those really slow songs, like “Stairway to Heaven” or “Freebird” that probably have really great lyrics or something but the song itself just is awful-just awful. Then this real phony guy, with the hair all slicked back on the top of his head stood up with the Sax and did a solo. I almost died. I mean, almost completely died right there. It had to be the cheesiest solo I had ever heard. I mean he was swaying back and forth and he closed his eyes like he was really getting into it and all, but it was the fakest thing you ever heard. It was like something out of a bad Howard Johnson’s. I swear, he must record Muzak for a living or drive a forklift or something.
Old Jean was getting into it, though. She was humming along and swaying to the song and practically just swaying her own dance out there. I mean I’m a pretty good dancer but I hate slow songs. There’s nothing you can do except just sit there and hold her and move her around and wait for the song to end. I would have rather just sat down and ordered another drink and waited for something else but not old Jean. She wanted to dance everything. Up real close to, so I could smell her breath. She didn’t smell bad or anything. Don’t get me wrong, she just didn’t smell quite right. I mean girls should smell a certain way-like baby powder, new clothes and perfume. Something that was girlish, y’know. Jean, I swear, smelled like a fruit salad or Old Spice. I hate Old Spice. I mean I like Jean fine, y’know. She’s great, but I just couldn’t smell her.
Christ, I must be nuts. All of a sudden I start to imagine myself as the old sailor in the Old Spice commercial. Right out there on the dance floor. I start to think about coming home from the sea and bringing in the duffel and that song. It must have been the goddammed saxophone because that goddam song is running through my head “Dum dum de dum dum, dum di de dum dum da di dum dum” I see myself coming home to this really cute girl and wearing a sailor suit or something. I’m crazy. I mean, I’m really nuts sometimes.”
Holden’s internal monologue is the epitome of William James idea of stream of consciousness. While Holden’s original reaction to the song being played is to critique the absurd reactions of others in the crowd, he inevitably ends on the thought of his own insanity. William James argues that we all fall victim to constant thought, “like a bird in flight.” Holden’s thoughts, like a bird in flight, are continuous and often unconnected, one thought leading to another and then another and so on. This is not only apparent in the passage above, but in the entire novel.
James also argues that stimuli may not extract the same feelings from different people. This is quite apparent from the reactions to others’ reactions to the song. While Holden views the music to be horrible and associates it with nothing but bad feelings, people around him sway to the music. Although we cannot hear the thoughts of the others, we can assume, from their body language, that they are enjoying it.