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BarrettChilds, July 9, 2008

When I was reading this little tome that explores (through, the artiface of Carl Wilson, the author, exploring why he viscerally hates the music of Celine Dion) what exactly is "taste" and the implications that taste has for art experience, our society, our concepts of democracy & coolness, etc., I kept thinking, "Man, I want my Mom to read this." Not only is it a pleasingly mind-blowing book due to its interweaving of ideas like those of Kant and Bourdieu and an explaination of the cultural context of Celine Dion in an ever increasingly global media marketplace, but I thought that my Mom should read it because it would be a short-cut way of explaining some of the depth (both negative and positive) of why, for example, I do not like certain things. Even in my adult life, when I've gotten over some of my hang-ups on "cool" (I remember telling her when I was a teenager that even the way she said cool was uncool.) I still find that there is this chasm between us when I express my preferences for certain things. It is almost as if I am unable to explain and she is unable to grasp why we might differ, or why I might even think such things that have never entered her mind. Then I started thinking, "Man this book is brilliant...I should remember to reread it when my kids are teenagers." Then I thought, nah, it will be out of date then. As if Mr. Wilson were reading my mind when he wrote this book, I got to this line, "When we do make judgements, though, the trick would be to remember that they are contingent, hailing from one small point in time and in society." Exactly. So, Mr. Wilson or someone needs to make this book into a college class...so when the time comes, one of your students can put some thought into taste and culture and explain my kids to me! Also, I might add, that the fact that Carl Wilson put himself, and those of us like him (or at least somewhat like him), under the microscope so ruthlessly made the analysis all the more compelling. Mr. Wilson, you are not the ugly American, and not just because you are Canadian, it is because you paused to consider that you might actually BE the ugly American. Cool book.

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