Thursday, January 10, 2008


I cannot even begin to tell you how much I love this blog entry.


Mindy said...

And I love that you go to the trouble to find them, and I can just pop over here and read them. Thanks!

The Other Andrew said...

You're welcome!

Jodie Sorrell said...

I have encountered reading snobbery at many turns during my studies. During one session we had to do an analysis of language used in a novel. All the twenty-something pseudo-intellectuals picked novels by so called classics such as Lolita, Great Expectations and The Idiot. I picked Polo by Jilly Cooper. The other students where horrified at my choice calling it chick-lit, nonsense and even rubbish until the lecturer said it was refreshing to hear an analysis on a book that ‘normal’ people read (yes, she actually air-quoted).

Thanks for the link, superb as usual.

Michael Guy said...

All true.

I have an acquaintance who sorta does a 'reverse snobbism' when I compliment a particular clothing article or home decor item:

"..Oh, this old thing. It is divine isn't it? It's already two years old but I love it to death..."

Well, I suppose an ARMANI topcoat that retailed for $1,500 should last a couple of midwest winters. I'm just saying...

spyder said...

Bloody fabulous.
And what a great reminder to check ourselves.
Kinda reminds me of Ghandi's observations that a man can be exhalted by anothers humiliation
(poor misquote, but you get the gist)

John C said...

I don't own a TV! (But I don't boast about it.)

That aside, I send a lot of my time trying to erode the artistic class barriers, to paraphrase the divine Oscar, books are either good or bad, and that's how you judge art, whatever the medium.

You should never apologise for liking something simply because others might think you a lesser person. Art is only worth something when it strikes a chord with the person that encounters it. People who only read classics, for instance, are conspiring in their own ignorance, and it's often the case that artists and writers are far more open-minded than their readers; TS Eliot loved Sherlock Holmes and James Joyce was a fan of the pulp fiction tales of Fantomas.

Here endeth the first rant.

Michael said...
This comment has been removed by the author.