I originally wrote this about a novel written by Russian writer Viktor Brook.
I am in the minority (excerpt)
I am in the minority: this desire, this verbal and literary spark, are not for everyone, nor are they in everyone. Some do not search painstakingly for the perfect brew. Those people find coffee on some neatly labeled aisle of a supermarket, stripped of its exquisiteness, hideously defiled by processing, tidily packaged by a nationally recognizable mega-brand, and economically priced. In the same manner, repulsive carbonation and puerile “fruitessences” are injected into a liquid deceitfully ticketed as wine, a pitiful pretense of mass-produced and mass-marketed excrement not evenresembling a bubbly production of the methode champagnoise. Such brands soon become household names.
This is the public experience with espresso, wine, and literature.
But what about the "unitelligent" reader? What about the indifferent drone taking a class simply because he or she needs the credit, or maybe because they enjoy tittering at the responses of the bookwormish student who actually enjoys expanding their mind with such literary novelties? For these questions, there are more finite answers. These readers might discover Brook like a small but impressive batch of wine or a decidedly deep coffee bean; theycould become intrigued and continue to educate themselves stylistically; or, they could simply not get it.
Those readers will continue their quest for conformity, gravitate toward Folger’s and Arbor Mist, and continue to frequent the Danielle Steele section. And maybe it is for these readers that I write. Perhaps, in some essay or some online journal, I could inspire one mind to abandon conventionality and develop appreciation for innovative thought. I have a long way to go, but, powered by my morning espresso and inspired by my evening glass of Morellino di Scansano, I could be able to muddle through.