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# Chapter 12 ## Overview This entity is a chapter from a literary work, labeled as "12" and extracted from a source file dated 2026. It consists of 173 lines of narrative text (lines 2018–2190) and is divided into five smaller text chunks for processing. The chapter is part of the collection [More Classics](arke:01KFXT0KM64XT6K8W52TDEE0YS), which includes canonical Western texts. ## Context The chapter is narrated in the first person and features the voice of Holden Caulfield, a well-known character from J.D. Salinger’s *The Catcher in the Rye*. The narrative takes place in New York City during winter and reflects Holden’s alienation, cynicism, and preoccupation with authenticity. The events follow his late-night cab ride to Ernie’s, a nightclub in Greenwich Village. The chapter captures his internal struggle with loneliness and his critical observations of social behavior, consistent with the novel’s broader themes of adolescence, identity, and societal phoniness. ## Contents The chapter opens with Holden riding in a cab driven by a man named Horwitz. During the ride, Holden asks about the winter fate of the ducks in Central Park’s lagoon, a recurring motif symbolizing his anxiety about change and displacement. The conversation shifts to the fish in the frozen lake, with Horwitz offering a crude but earnest explanation that frustrates Holden. After arriving at Ernie’s, Holden observes the crowded, pretentious atmosphere, criticizing the pianist Ernie for his showy performance and the audience for applauding insincerely. He feels increasingly isolated, surrounded by what he perceives as “jerks” and superficial interactions, including a flirtatious couple and a dull conversation about football. His discomfort peaks when Lillian Simmons, an acquaintance of his older brother D.B., recognizes him and invites him to join her and her Navy date. Holden declines, claiming he must meet someone, but admits he is lying to escape an awkward situation. The chapter ends with Holden leaving the club, angry at how others disrupt his experience, underscoring his deep sense of alienation.

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2026-01-27T17:22:14.696Z

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Qwen/Qwen3-235B-A22B-Instruct-2507

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Chapter 12

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2026-01-27T17:12:16.500Z

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structure-extraction-lambda

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01KFYTG9MG93RTB6YAW34V48XG

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2018

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1931 12 1932 The cab I had was a real old one that smelled like someone'd just tossed his 1933 cookies in it. I always get those vomity kind of cabs if I go anywhere late at night. What 1934 made it worse, it was so quiet and lonesome out, even though it was Saturday night. I 1935 didn't see hardly anybody on the street. Now and then you just saw a man and a girl 1936 crossing a street, with their arms around each other's waists and all, or a bunch of 1937 hoodlumy-looking guys and their dates, all of them laughing like hyenas at something 1938 you could bet wasn't funny. New York's terrible when somebody laughs on the street very 1939 late at night. You can hear it for miles. It makes you feel so lonesome and depressed. I 1940 kept wishing I could go home and shoot the bull for a while with old Phoebe. But finally, 1941 after I was riding a while, the cab driver and I sort of struck up a conversation. His name 1942 was Horwitz. He was a much better guy than the other driver I'd had. Anyway, I thought 1943 maybe he might know about the ducks. 1944 "Hey, Horwitz," I said. "You ever pass by the lagoon in Central Park? Down by 1945 Central Park South?" 1946 "The what?" 1947 "The lagoon. That little lake, like, there. Where the ducks are. You know." 1948 "Yeah, what about it?" 1949 "Well, you know the ducks that swim around in it? In the springtime and all? Do 1950 you happen to know where they go in the wintertime, by any chance?" 1951 "Where who goes?" 1952 "The ducks. Do you know, by any chance? I mean does somebody come around 1953 in a truck or something and take them away, or do they fly away by themselves--go south 1954 or something?" 1955 Old Horwitz turned all the way around and looked at me. He was a very 1956 impatient-type guy. He wasn't a bad guy, though. "How the hell should I know?" he said. 1957 "How the hell should I know a stupid thing like that?" 1958 "Well, don't get sore about it," I said. He was sore about it or something. 1959 "Who's sore? Nobody's sore." 1960 I stopped having a conversation with him, if he was going to get so damn touchy 1961 about it. But he started it up again himself. He turned all the way around again, and said, 1962 "The fish don't go no place. They stay right where they are, the fish. Right in the goddam 1963 lake." 1964 "The fish--that's different. The fish is different. I'm talking about the ducks," I 1965 said. <!-- [Page 45](arke:01KFYTACA42TMR5YXPR0258CM3) --> 1966 "What's different about it? Nothin's different about it," Horwitz said. Everything 1967 he said, he sounded sore about something. "It's tougher for the fish, the winter and all, 1968 than it is for the ducks, for Chrissake. Use your head, for Chrissake." 1969 I didn't say anything for about a minute. Then I said, "All right. What do they do, 1970 the fish and all, when that whole little lake's a solid block of ice, people skating on it and 1971 all?" 1972 Old Horwitz turned around again. "What the hellaya mean what do they do?" he 1973 yelled at me. "They stay right where they are, for Chrissake." 1974 "They can't just ignore the ice. They can't just ignore it." 1975 "Who's ignoring it? Nobody's ignoring it!" Horwitz said. He got so damn excited 1976 and all, I was afraid he was going to drive the cab right into a lamppost or something. 1977 "They live right in the goddam ice. It's their nature, for Chrissake. They get frozen right 1978 in one position for the whole winter." 1979 "Yeah? What do they eat, then? I mean if they're frozen solid, they can't swim 1980 around looking for food and all." 1981 "Their bodies, for Chrissake--what'sa matter with ya? Their bodies take in 1982 nutrition and all, right through the goddam seaweed and crap that's in the ice. They got 1983 their pores open the whole time. That's their nature, for Chrissake. See what I mean?" He 1984 turned way the hell around again to look at me. 1985 "Oh," I said. I let it drop. I was afraid he was going to crack the damn taxi up or 1986 something. Besides, he was such a touchy guy, it wasn't any pleasure discussing anything 1987 with him. "Would you care to stop off and have a drink with me somewhere?" I said. 1988 He didn't answer me, though. I guess he was still thinking. I asked him again, 1989 though. He was a pretty good guy. Quite amusing and all. 1990 "I ain't got no time for no liquor, bud," he said. "How the hell old are you, 1991 anyways? Why ain'tcha home in bed?" 1992 "I'm not tired." 1993 When I got out in front of Ernie's and paid the fare, old Horwitz brought up the 1994 fish again. He certainly had it on his mind. "Listen," he said. "If you was a fish, Mother 1995 Nature'd take care of you, wouldn't she? Right? You don't think them fish just die when it 1996 gets to be winter, do ya?" 1997 "No, but--" 1998 "You're goddam right they don't," Horwitz said, and drove off like a bat out of 1999 hell. He was about the touchiest guy I ever met. Everything you said made him sore. 2000 Even though it was so late, old Ernie's was jampacked. Mostly with prep school 2001 jerks and college jerks. Almost every damn school in the world gets out earlier for 2002 Christmas vacation than the schools I go to. You could hardly check your coat, it was so 2003 crowded. It was pretty quiet, though, because Ernie was playing the piano. It was 2004 supposed to be something holy, for God's sake, when he sat down at the piano. Nobody's 2005 that good. About three couples, besides me, were waiting for tables, and they were all 2006 shoving and standing on tiptoes to get a look at old Ernie while he played. He had a big 2007 damn mirror in front of the piano, with this big spotlight on him, so that everybody could 2008 watch his face while he played. You couldn't see his fingers while he played--just his big 2009 old face. Big deal. I'm not too sure what the name of the song was that he was playing 2010 when I came in, but whatever it was, he was really stinking it up. He was putting all these 2011 dumb, show-offy ripples in the high notes, and a lot of other very tricky stuff that gives <!-- [Page 46](arke:01KFYTAC67JMM6EV4SXH3MQ3XG) --> 2012 me a pain in the ass. You should've heard the crowd, though, when he was finished. You 2013 would've puked. They went mad. They were exactly the same morons that laugh like 2014 hyenas in the movies at stuff that isn't funny. I swear to God, if I were a piano player or 2015 an actor or something and all those dopes thought I was terrific, I'd hate it. I wouldn't 2016 even want them to clap for me. People always clap for the wrong things. If I were a piano 2017 player, I'd play it in the goddam closet. Anyway, when he was finished, and everybody 2018 was clapping their heads off, old Ernie turned around on his stool and gave this very 2019 phony, humble bow. Like as if he was a helluva humble guy, besides being a terrific 2020 piano player. It was very phony--I mean him being such a big snob and all. In a funny 2021 way, though, I felt sort of sorry for him when he was finished. I don't even think he 2022 knows any more when he's playing right or not. It isn't all his fault. I partly blame all 2023 those dopes that clap their heads off--they'd foul up anybody, if you gave them a chance. 2024 Anyway, it made me feel depressed and lousy again, and I damn near got my coat back 2025 and went back to the hotel, but it was too early and I didn't feel much like being all alone. 2026 They finally got me this stinking table, right up against a wall and behind a 2027 goddam post, where you couldn't see anything. It was one of those tiny little tables that if 2028 the people at the next table don't get up to let you by--and they never do, the bastards-- 2029 you practically have to climb into your chair. I ordered a Scotch and soda, which is my 2030 favorite drink, next to frozen Daiquiris. If you were only around six years old, you could 2031 get liquor at Ernie's, the place was so dark and all, and besides, nobody cared how old 2032 you were. You could even be a dope fiend and nobody'd care. 2033 I was surrounded by jerks. I'm not kidding. At this other tiny table, right to my 2034 left, practically on top of me, there was this funny-looking guy and this funny-looking 2035 girl. They were around my age, or maybe just a little older. It was funny. You could see 2036 they were being careful as hell not to drink up the minimum too fast. I listened to their 2037 conversation for a while, because I didn't have anything else to do. He was telling her 2038 about some pro football game he'd seen that afternoon. He gave her every single goddam 2039 play in the whole game--I'm not kidding. He was the most boring guy I ever listened to. 2040 And you could tell his date wasn't even interested in the goddam game, but she was even 2041 funnier-looking than he was, so I guess she had to listen. Real ugly girls have it tough. I 2042 feel so sorry for them sometimes. Sometimes I can't even look at them, especially if 2043 they're with some dopey guy that's telling them all about a goddam football game. On my 2044 right, the conversation was even worse, though. On my right there was this very Joe 2045 Yale-looking guy, in a gray flannel suit and one of those flitty-looking Tattersall vests. 2046 All those Ivy League bastards look alike. My father wants me to go to Yale, or maybe 2047 Princeton, but I swear, I wouldn't go to one of those Ivy League colleges, if I was dying, 2048 for God's sake. Anyway, this Joe Yale-looking guy had a terrific-looking girl with him. 2049 Boy, she was good-looking. But you should've heard the conversation they were having. 2050 In the first place, they were both slightly crocked. What he was doing, he was giving her 2051 a feel under the table, and at the same time telling her all about some guy in his dorm that 2052 had eaten a whole bottle of aspirin and nearly committed suicide. His date kept saying to 2053 him, "How horrible . . . Don't, darling. Please, don't. Not here." Imagine giving somebody 2054 a feel and telling them about a guy committing suicide at the same time! They killed me. 2055 I certainly began to feel like a prize horse's ass, though, sitting there all by myself. 2056 There wasn't anything to do except smoke and drink. What I did do, though, I told the 2057 waiter to ask old Ernie if he'd care to join me for a drink. I told him to tell him I was <!-- [Page 47](arke:01KFYTACA1YX1TB7SR8QZ4H6AM) --> 2058 D.B.'s brother. I don't think he ever even gave him my message, though. Those bastards 2059 never give your message to anybody. 2060 All of a sudden, this girl came up to me and said, "Holden Caulfield!" Her name 2061 was Lillian Simmons. My brother D.B. used to go around with her for a while. She had 2062 very big knockers. 2063 "Hi," I said. I tried to get up, naturally, but it was some job getting up, in a place 2064 like that. She had some Navy officer with her that looked like he had a poker up his ass. 2065 "How marvelous to see you!" old Lillian Simmons said. Strictly a phony. "How's 2066 your big brother?" That's all she really wanted to know. 2067 "He's fine. He's in Hollywood." 2068 "In Hollywood! How marvelous! What's he doing?" 2069 "I don't know. Writing," I said. I didn't feel like discussing it. You could tell she 2070 thought it was a big deal, his being in Hollywood. Almost everybody does. Mostly people 2071 who've never read any of his stories. It drives me crazy, though. 2072 "How exciting," old Lillian said. Then she introduced me to the Navy guy. His 2073 name was Commander Blop or something. He was one of those guys that think they're 2074 being a pansy if they don't break around forty of your fingers when they shake hands with 2075 you. God, I hate that stuff. "Are you all alone, baby?" old Lillian asked me. She was 2076 blocking up the whole goddam traffic in the aisle. You could tell she liked to block up a 2077 lot of traffic. This waiter was waiting for her to move out of the way, but she didn't even 2078 notice him. It was funny. You could tell the waiter didn't like her much, you could tell 2079 even the Navy guy didn't like her much, even though he was dating her. And I didn't like 2080 her much. Nobody did. You had to feel sort of sorry for her, in a way. "Don't you have a 2081 date, baby?" she asked me. I was standing up now, and she didn't even tell me to sit 2082 down. She was the type that keeps you standing up for hours. "Isn't he handsome?" she 2083 said to the Navy guy. "Holden, you're getting handsomer by the minute." The Navy guy 2084 told her to come on. He told her they were blocking up the whole aisle. "Holden, come 2085 join us," old Lillian said. "Bring your drink." 2086 "I was just leaving," I told her. "I have to meet somebody." You could tell she was 2087 just trying to get in good with me. So that I'd tell old D.B. about it. 2088 "Well, you little so-and-so. All right for you. Tell your big brother I hate him, 2089 when you see him." 2090 Then she left. The Navy guy and I told each other we were glad to've met each 2091 other. Which always kills me. I'm always saying "Glad to've met you" to somebody I'm 2092 not at all glad I met. If you want to stay alive, you have to say that stuff, though. 2093 After I'd told her I had to meet somebody, I didn't have any goddam choice except 2094 to leave. I couldn't even stick around to hear old Ernie play something halfway decent. 2095 But I certainly wasn't going to sit down at a table with old Lillian Simmons and that Navy 2096 guy and be bored to death. So I left. It made me mad, though, when I was getting my 2097 coat. People are always ruining things for you.

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