Re-reading Catcher in the Rye has me wondering about the delicate balance that museums have to strike between the new and the familiar.

Like many people, I’ve found myself thinking about the book since the death of JD Salinger last week. It’s been many years since I’ve read it, and the details are a little hazy in my mind. I remember Holden’s obsession with “phoniness” and that he has a kid sister named Phoebe. And one detail that’s always stuck in my mind: that he makes a visit to the American Museum of Natural History.

I paged through my copy of the book this morning and found the passage where Holden visits the museum. It’s a lovely moment and fun to re-read it now that thinking about museums is my full-time job. What really struck me, though, is why Holden likes the museum so much:
 

“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, the birds would still be on their way south, the deers would still be drinking out of that water hole, with their pretty antlers and their pretty, skinny legs...”

Now, Holden’s psychological need for stability might be greater than most people’s. Nevertheless it got me thinking: I counsel museums about the need for new-ness in the visit experience far more often than the need for same-ness. In both qualitative and quantitative research, visitors (especially young adults) tell us that their desire to learn, see, or experience something new is a strong driver of their attendance at museums. So it’s natural to focus my thinking on how museums can keep the experience “fresh” so that the appeal of the new is a continual draw. But by taking that focus, have I under-valued the role of ritual and nostalgia in the museum experience?