Literary Snobbery, Or Good Lord You Have Some Crust

I've been posting lightly over the last few weeks. I am noticing that my deep thoughts [ha!] have to percolate somewhat before my brain connects to typing fingers. Posting is also light as real life often intrudes, as is its wont.

I recently finished reading Morris Berman's The Twilight of American Culture. For anyone concerned with the currently dilapidated and appalling state of our country, I recommend this book highly. It's slightly outdated in sections (it was published during the fall of 2000), and therefore doesn't include Berman's cogent thoughts and observations on the post 9/11 atmosphere, our last presidential election [I hear some people actually call it that with a straight face - hah!], and the now third solid year of the war in Iraq.

Still, some of the things he writes about are chilling, and most tingling for me were his comments about the horrifingly severe decline of literacy among Americans. His source literature states that "Roughly 60 percent of Americans have never read a book of any kind, and only 6 percent reads as much as one book a year, where book is defined to include Harlequin romances and self-help manuals." (Italics in the original). He cites other statistics showing a correspondingly dismal lack of basic knowledge about history, geography and basic science .

I used to think that it didn't matter what material one read, it was just important that one read at all. I now disagree with those early thoughts; it is vital that reading matter stimulate and educate as well as entertain.

There needs to be something of value to counteract the insidious nature of this country's infection by and infatuation with an increasingly shallow consumer mindset. I can't even call it a culture, as it is anything but.

Enjoying current television shows or fashion magazines isn't bad, but when they constitute one's sole intellectual diet, they are mere sugary snacks devoid of lasting mental nourishment. It's not necessary to have an Ivy League education - God knows I don't - but last I checked, public libraries are free, and it's extremely easy to ask a librarian for a list of great books in literature, history, or science.

I don't always head for the highest-minded volumes; indeed, sometimes I crave light hearted contemporary fiction, hunger for hard science fiction, or I'm thirsty for a good espionage tale. Frankly, some authors considered to be the "best" fail to rouse my intellect and passion and remain total snoozefests (I can't help it Faulkner, I'm looking at you). But even if he doesn't float my boat, I know who Faulkner is and can discuss his works with a modicum of intelligence...because I've read him.

Even if a fragment of the foregoing statistics have scientific accuracy, my aesthetic foibles are small potatoes considering I read about 35 times more books a year than the average American.

Another concept Berman writes about is the current attitude towards “elitism” - that it's somehow a dirty or racist word, and that excellence is to be deplored and scorned rather than passionately emulated. The notion among American's youth that being smart is "dumb" and that books are for losers makes me weep.

The expression "dumbing down" doesn't force those less able to rise above themselves; instead, it drags everything to the level of the lowest common denominator and cannot help but breed ignorance and outright stupidity.

Damnit, I agree! I have an enormous elitist streak that I don’t often display. Why? Because it makes other people uncomfortable, and the (albeit much smaller) empathetic part of me doesn’t wish others to be uncomfortable.

But I was inspired by Berman's book and from now on the division between my privately held convictions and my public persona will cease to exist. I will never agree that one dimensional characters, flat prose, bad sentences and plots full of holes are worthy of the word novel or even remotely related to eternal human truth. I will always deplore spelling mistakes in public signage and in written correspondence of any sort. I will not refrain from using difficult words and complex concepts for fear that someone won’t be able to understand me.

I’m committed to maintaining a high standard of excellence, and it isn’t a task I’m taking on because of extrinsic pressure. I wholeheartedly believe in and support a lifelong self-directed education as a way towards becoming a whole human being.

If high standards denote snobbery, it's one label I don't mind wearing.