On Good Taste

what a forklift manual might teach us about having good taste

Recently it feels like each of the pieces I’m drawn to writing flow one from the other. Each provides the seed for the next. When writing about personal taste and books, recently, I knew I was inevitably coming closer to writing about ‘good taste’; whether it exists, whether it’s helpful, what function does it serve. I think perhaps we can reclaim the idea of good taste in such a way as to make it helpful again.

I try to be as inclusive and expansive as possible when I talk about reading and being a reader. People should be able to read whatever and however they want, and not be judged for it. Audiobooks absolutely count as reading, graphic novels count as reading, nobody should be looked down upon for reading a certain genre.

But there, niggling at the back of my mind, is the sense that there is such a thing as good taste. And, as much as it might feel awkward to say it, I think I have good taste. It’s hard to get away from the idea that there are some objectively better works of literature than others, and that generally preferring them is a sign of a good taste. My sense of good taste is broader than my own personal taste, it doesn’t exactly match. There are books which I think are good works of literature but that don’t cater to my personal preferences. But I instinctually feel it does exist and I make these value judgments quietly to myself all the time, sometimes without even noticing.