[In the following excerpt, Panichas determines the role played in Salinger's novella by the Russian text, The Way of a Pilgrim, maintaining that it provides a fuller understanding of the struggle and eventual enlightenment experienced by both Franny and Zooey.]

Critical estimates of J. D. Salinger's Franny and Zooey invariably contain brief references to the profound influence made on Franny by a little book of Russian Orthodox spirituality, The Way of a Pilgrim. It is obvious that Salinger attaches much significance to this work of Russian piety, and this is clearly registered in his depiction of Franny's response to the book. This influence, however, does not necessarily prove distinct structural affinities or parallels, but rather reveals a sensitive recognition on Salinger's part of the moving spirit and message of The Way of a Pilgrim. That is to say, Salinger, in showing the influence of this book on Franny, confesses at the same time a decidedly sympathetic and intuitive understanding of the Russian work. In addition, he seems to have found in it what might be called a transcending religious meaning and experience; and in his characterization of Franny he recreates the form, direction, and power of this experience.

Even the difficulties and doubts that Salinger must have experienced in order to achieve a positive realization of The Way of a Pilgrim are readily seen at the beginning of Franny and Zooey, where allusions to the Russian book are couched in obscure and even suspicious terms. Like Franny, Salinger seems at first somewhat ashamed of the 'small pea-green clothbound book,' which Lane Coutell notices Franny carrying in her left hand when he meets her on the station-platform. She has come to join him for 'the weekend of the Yale game.' He questions her about the book, but she avoids discussing it and quickly stuffs it in her handbag. Yet, by the end of Salinger's book, The Way of a Pilgrim is freed from this preliminary obscurity and suspicion. Gradually, its title and content are referred to freely and fearlessly, and its growing significance becomes incontestable. Indeed, at the conclusion of Franny and Zooey, the spirit and inspiration of The Way of a Pilgrim have become convincing and impelling, and the earlier process of grudging discovery is transformed into an undoubting triumph of affirmation. The Way of a Pilgrim, thus, is no longer 'just something,' but the way to redemption and the very beauty and wisdom that Franny so desperately and painfully longed for.

It would be best at this point to say a few things about The Way of a Pilgrim before going on to appraise its significance in Salinger's work. The complete title of this book is The Way of a Pilgrim and the Pilgrim Continues His Way, translated from the Russian by R. M. French. The first translation of The Way of a Pilgrim was originally published in 1930 and its sequel, The Pilgrim Continues His Way, was published separately at a later date; in 1941 both were published for the first time as a continuous narrative in one volume. Actually, the Pilgrim's story was first discovered in manuscript form at the Greek Orthodox monastic community of Mt. Athos by a Russian abbot, who copied the manuscript, and on the basis of which a book was published in Kazan in 1884. This volume narrates the experiences of a Russian wanderer over the steppes and fields of Russia at some time prior to the liberation of the serfs in 1861. In particular it is the story of the Pilgrim's practicing a way of prayer, arising out of his desire to understand the words, Tray without ceasing,' from the first Epistle of St. Paul to the Thessalonians. In the process of learning the meaning of 'unceasing interior prayer,' the Pilgrim sought the advice of a monk (starets) known for his wisdom and spiritual counsel. 'Learn first to acquire the power of prayer,' he is advised, 'and you will easily practise all the other virtues.' The monk also tells him that the appeal of the prayer is found in the words, 'Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me.' Soon the pilgrim also obtains a copy of The Philokalia, or The Love of Spiritual Beauty,' a collection of mystical and ascetic writings by the Fathers of the Eastern Orthodox Church. The Greek Philokalia was compiled in the eighteenth century and first published in Venice in 1782; in the nineteenth century it was translated into Russian (Dobrotolubiye), and this translation was to play an important rôle in Russian religious life and thought.

Often described as 'the foremost and best manual of the contemplative spiritual life,' The Philokalia was to be for the Pilgrim a major guide in attaining purification and in comprehending more fully the Jesus Prayer. The achievement of this was to be no easy matter, and the Pilgrim was to experience the inevitable assaults of laziness, boredom, and distraction. It was not merely a matter of learning and repeating the Jesus Prayer, but of making it become a 'self-acting spiritual prayer.' Constant effort and stern self-discipline are necessary for the Pilgrim to purge his soul. In the end, with the understanding and assistance of his starets, the Pilgrim discovers the mystery of prayer. He gradually reaches a state of happiness and innocence, free of evil-thinking and of an ego-tainted consciousness. Only thirty-three years of age, the Pilgrim is a widower. He has a withered left arm. His sole worldly possessions are a knapsack containing some dried bread, a Bible, and The Philokalia. Nevertheless, in his arduous travels and in his encounters with persons of all types, he meets with success; for the Jesus Prayer has become an organic part of his life and purpose, enabling him to see and feel God everywhere.

From all this it should not be inferred that Salinger has adopted Russian mysticism as a kind of religious prop, or that he has been experimenting with Eastern Orthodoxy as a means of religious conversion. On the contrary, his approach is entirely non-sectarian, one mainly in search of religious meaning and of spiritual vision on higher levels of experience. It is expressed in a preëminently modern idiom and context. The fact remains that Franny and Zooey is not a 'devotional manual,' but rather a creative work of art that transcends religious doctrine, creed, and so-called 'theological dimensions.' Its preoccupation is with religious sensibility, with vital emotions, responses, feelings, and instincts outside the pale of the rational and empirical. Any attempt to treat Salinger's work on a religious plain should be detached from the strictly theological and homiletic. Religion, not religiosity, is what distinguishes Franny and Zooey.