Book snob

I’m reading Snobbery: The American Version, Joseph Epstein’s very long (well, it seems long) book about the history of snobs and snobbery and snobbishness in America. I don’t know how I ended up with this. It was published in 2002, which was pretty much centuries ago in terms of social commentary. 

Epstein approaches the subject from a (not the, but a) classic American snobby perspective. He’s an academic and writer (and kind of a jerk) who can’t conceal his disdain for most aspects of American life, including democracy and egalitarian social structures, both of which he tries to convince us contribute to snobbery - in other words, the more “classless” a society considers itself, the more prevalent snobbery will be in that society. And maybe he’s right although he doesn’t really make a convincing case, but even if he is right, I think I can live with a few snobs as the price of democracy so the point is moot. 

I have been slogging - slogging, I tell you - through this book for several days now. I’m only about a third of the way through and at this rate I’ll throw off my whole reading schedule for spring.  But I feel compelled to finish it. I have no idea why.  

*****

During the pandemic, I used to order groceries through Instacart. I was a very good tipper so my groceries were always delivered quickly and correctly. Then I started to feel bad about making other people do my shopping - even though I was tipping very well - and it also just cost too much money. But last week, Instacart sent me a postcard with a $20 off promo code. So now I’m waiting for my grocery delivery, with a $20 tip courtesy of Instacart. I feel like a plutocrat, sitting in luxury while others perform my household tasks. 

If you’ve ever used Instacart, then you know that the app offers suggestions - sometimes helpful, sometimes less so - for additional things that you might need to buy. Today’s suggestions included items for my “charcuterie board,” including Ritz-style crackers and a processed cheese spread. I could hear Epstein’s voice in my head, expounding on the connection between taste and snobbery. Do snobs shop at Aldi? Does Instacart snobbishly assume that Aldi shoppers are so lacking in sophistication that we don’t know the difference between charcuterie and an after-school snack? I feel like he could easily take a simple thing like a grocery order and dissect it and examine it 25 different ways, and both explain why a person’s grocery order ranks them as an educated professional or a plebe AND why such distinctions are inherently contrived and artificial but he’s still going to write about them. 

*****

I finally gave up on this absolutely insufferable book when I reached the chapter on college snobbery, a subject about which I know a few things, being the parent of a college student and a high school senior. Epstein, a scholar and college professor, is actually in a position to offer some real insight on the subject of Americans’ obsession with the “right” schools, but he’s too lazy to bother, and instead spends pages sneering at Ivy League pretension with no attempt to examine or illuminate the topic. I don’t often abandon a book less than halfway through but I have limited time on earth and I find myself unwilling to spend any of it thinking about Joseph Epstein’s analysis (lack of) of American snobbery. I feel good about this decision. 

*****

Except that now I'm reading something else that's almost as terrible, but not quite. It's a novel, a much quicker read, and I'm almost finished, so I'll just suck it up and read it until the end. In the future, I'll be a little more selective. I'm a bit of a book snob.