J.D. Salinger, the reclusive author of "The Catcher in the Rye" -- a revered coming-of-age story for me and many others of a certain age -- has died at age 91. Salinger died of natural causes at his home on Wednesday, the author's son said in a statement from Salinger's literary representative. He had lived for decades in self-imposed isolation in the small, remote house in Cornish, N.H.

Looking back at "Catcher," I think it was one of the books that helped make me a life-time reader. The prose was simple and the story was simple. But he captured the sense of teen-age angst perfectly. Some have argued that the book, published in 1951, is hopelessly dated and should be dropped from school reading lists. I think it's timeless. 

As we noted on Read Street, Salinger's most recent brush with the media came as he tried to block U.S. distribution of an unauthorized "Catcher" sequel called "60 Years Later: Coming Through the Rye." The case has been tied up in the courts, though a federal district judge initially sided with Salinger. Though he published little after "Catcher" and "Franny and Zooey," I think many of us hoped for one last book.

Maybe there's something he has been withholding? It wouldn't be the first time that a relative has posthumously published material from a great author. As you may recall, Vladimir Nabokov recorded thoughts about a new book on notecards, and left instructions that they should be destroyed upon his death. But his son decided to publish the fragmentary work. Let's hope there's a manuscript or two tucked into a steamer trunk in Salinger's attic.