However, Caulfield’s specific opinions on adulthood, especially when in comparison with that of childhood, fail to be outwardly written as Salinger instead chooses to depict these beliefs through Caulfield’s memories and impressions of personal locations and experiences.
Specifically, the Museum of National History embodies Caulfield’s resistance to maturity and to adulthood itself. Yet, in this location, Caulfield only exists as a passerby as he watches from the outside into this world that he does not reside in. Thus, Salinger allows the question of if Caulfield fails to experience the process of transitioning from child to adult, does he prevail as someone in a state somewhere in between? If so, is it for his own
good?
The reader can explore this question through Caulfield’s first occurrence with the Museum of National History in the novel as he searches for his younger sister Phoebe. Caulfield strolls through the building, reminiscing on his past as a child when his class would routinely traverse to the museum for field trips:
“The best thing, though, in that museum was that everything always stayed right where it was. Nobody’d move. You could go there a hundred thousand times, and that Eskimo would still be just finished catching those two fish … Nobody’d be different” (Salinger 157).
Already, Salinger states Caulfield’s obvious defiance against change. By writing “everything always stayed right where it was”, Salinger accentuates the museum’s ability to remain at a standstill, and by applying “always” and “a hundred thousand times”, the reader does not need to expect anything else from the museum as it will forever stay frozen in time whenever anyone visits the museum. This capability is especially applauded in Holden’s thoughts as Salinger refers to it as “the best thing”. Rather than “good” or “nicest”, “best” holds the connotation that the museum’s fixed stance is better than any other material exhibit or object in the area. The irony in this, however, is that Caulfield considers this deadlock as a blessing when, in reality, one can also perceive it to be a curse. Salinger writes “nobody’d move” and “nobody’d be different” in Caulfield’s thoughts, allowing the reader to assume Caulfield is referring to the people in the museum but, in reality, is alluding to its manmade articles. For instance, by including the “Eskimo … catching those two fish”, Salinger demonstrates that Caulfield holds the assumption that the Eskimo could change positions at any time but fails to recognize that the Eskimo has no capacity to do such a thing as it was purely created to provide a singular snapshot of a period in history. Thus, Salinger provides an opportunity for the reader to deduce that Caulfield could potentially be deluding himself into upholding the museum at a higher esteem than it really is, personifying his desperate need to connect to and justify his fear of change. However, Caulfield’s thoughts continue on as he not only provides the good side of the museum but also the bad side to this place of such importance:
“The only thing that would be different would be you. Not that you’d be so much older or anything. It wouldn’t be that, exactly. You’d just be different, that’s all. You’d have an overcoat on that day. Or that kid that was your partner in line last time had got scarlet fever and you’d have a new partner … I mean you’d be different in some way - I can’t explain what I mean” (Salinger 158).
Significantly, Salinger notes that “the only thing that would be different would be you”. By referencing to “you” rather than “me” at the end of the sentence, Salinger provides an insight into Caulfield’s mind as it appears that Caulfield is distancing himself from this inevitable change he so wishes to avoid. However, this change exists not in the museum itself but in the visitors as they would not “be so much older or anything … [they’d] just be different, that’s all”. Thus, something not as controversial or important such as age would not be the deciding factor in this change but rather miniscule variations like an overcoat or a different partner. As such, the change that Caulfield dreads resides not in the museum itself but the outside variables that change one’s experience of the museum, and when applied to life itself, Salinger relates back to Caulfield’s concerns about how other third-party determinants can switch his view on life from that of a child to that of an adult.
Therefore, through Caulfield’s reminiscence of the Museum of National History, Salinger exhibits how Caulfield remains stuck in some limbo between childhood and adulthood as he creates this fantasy world that refrains from allowing him to proceed down the road of maturity. So much so, in fact, that Salinger provides a mass amount of Caulfield’s thoughts to envelop this fantasy world - this museum that stands in idleness - and, by doing so, underscores the ineffectiveness of Caulfield’s struggle against change. Caulfield cannot simply stay frozen but, in that moment, he exists like one of the display cases in the museum - suspended in a standstill as everything else around him persists to move on and change which, in this instance, appears to be the better road Caulfield should instead travel down at this crossroad.