Journeying to the End of Taste
It’s been so long since I posted, I hardly remember how. If John Lennon were still with us, I think he’d say that blog silence is what happens to you when you’re busy making other plans.
But at lunch today with a friend, I told a story that I realized might be of interest to FCRP readers. This isn’t a story with much of a moral: just something fun for a Friday afternoon, and to let you know I haven’t gone away.
I’m teaching a new class this semester called “Rock & Roll Writing”: the plan is to read a lot of really dynamic and smart popular writing about rock & roll, and take ourselves through a demanding series of writing assignments (about 45 pp. total!), in an effort to become better writers about the music we love.
The course was just taking form last spring, and was talking with my then-soon-to-be-new colleague Jonathan Lethem about it. When it comes to smart and engaged and absorbing writing about popular music, and popular culture more largely, few are better at it than Jonathan.
He suggested adding a book to the syllabus that I’d not read: Carl Wilson’s book in Continuum’s 33 1/3 series, on Celine Dion’s Let’s Talk about Love. I read it and, not surprisingly, Jonathan was absolutely right: it’s a really gorgeous, honest (sometimes heartbreakingly honest) exploration of the role of taste in popular music fandom. Wilson’s no fan of Dion’s: not before he wrote the book, not by the time he’s finished. But he does succeed in learning something about, and teaching his readers something about, what her music means to those for whom it means a great deal.
I found it an ideal way to start the semester in ENGL 93: one of the great obstacles in a class like this—this is probably the case, too, in a course in popular cinema, though I’ve never taught such a class—is to get the students (and to get the teacher) to peel away the fan from the critic. Not completely: I don’t want to be a critic who pretends not to care about any of the shit he writes about (regular readers of FCRP will certainly know this!). But I really don’t want to write or talk like a fan, nor do I want my students to get sloppy, and talk & write like fans. Especially that kind of fandom, so prevalent in “indie” rock and punk, that expresses itself in what I call the Discourse of Exquisite Taste: my comments in class and in my written work intended, consciously or subconsciously, first and foremost to convince everyone just how rarified is my sensibility. (And that syntax is right: for this hypothetical writer would write “how rarified is my sensibility,” not “how rarified my sensibility is.” The latter is—shudder!—disturbingly commonplace.)
So Wilson’s book was a great way to begin: his writing is a beautiful example of what it means to write passionately yet critically about material that means a great deal to the writer; and in the course of his own personal journey “to the end taste,” as his subtitle has it, he has a lot of wisdom to impart about the callowness of trying to brand oneself through the music one very vocally likes. Inevitable, yet callow: I won’t deny that I wore a pretty awesome “YES” t-shirt, far too many times, my senior year of high school. Wilson’s subtitle is actually pretty clever (and unusual in a series where, almost by fiat it would seem, the title of the book is the title of the album in question, period): he means not that we’ll be journeying to taste’s basement, as many a snide browser of a book about Celine must expect, but journeying to a place beyond taste. Where one no longer gets to be snide about Celine. A snark-free, post-taste zone of pure aesthetic and affective pleasure.
That’s not the story, it’s just the set up. As Jay-Z sings on “What More Can I Say,” “And no I’m not through with it / In fact, I’m just previewing it / This ain’t the show, I’m just EQ’ng it.” More on Monday.
Wonderful to see you’re back. What kinds of things are you all writing?
I think I might read the book about Celine. Just read an article a/b her return to Las Vegas.
I can’t recommend Carl Wilson’s book highly enough. It’s smart but also wise, and funny: just a great read.
The assignments: we started with an album review; then a performance review; and a book review. Then a blog post; now an article-length piece (making the case for some artist/genre/work that “gets no respect,” a la Chuck Klosterman); two assignments yet to come. Which is to say, I’m not sure what they are yet!
Why haven’t you sent me this syllabus yet?!
So pleased you enjoyed Carl’s book, Kevin – and I really hope your students find it enjoyable and useful. We’re currently planning a revised/expanded edition, to see if we can get it more widely used on courses. The more we hear from people about the book, the greater its potential seems to be. (We hear from professors of drama, philosophy, music theory, aesthetics, literary studies, and more…)
I’d love to see the whole reading list if you get the chance.