I’ve mentioned this before, but I don’t see what’s so great about Gravity’s Rainbow. Trying to read it was just painful
up until a few days ago I’d be ‘me-too-ing’ you here. But Sunday I woke up feeling a little down about things, not happy in myself, felt I’d let myself down etc and put on an Essential Karajan CD i’d bought cheap in a charity shop. Just a sort of Greatest Classic Hits.
But I really got it for the first time. I needed to know there was beauty in the world and that there was a spark of greatness in our souls and I needed to be touched by that beauty. I had tears in my eyes some of it was just so wonderful.
Now i totally get it - I know what emotion a great conductor, working with a great orchestra playing music of genius can engender in me. Man - I’ve spent a fortune on Amazon recently. A whole new beautiful world has opened up for me once I was ready for it.
Opera still sounds like a good tune ruined by fat foreigners bellowing and shrieking like buggered bison though. 
I also think Radiohead is overrated. Like VCO3 said, if you’ve listened to a wide variety of music (and I mean non-mainstream music) they’re not really that interesting. Great musicians, yes, but just not that captivating to me. I guess Thom Yorke’s voice kind of turns me off…it sounds very whiny to me. Also, I hate High and Dry and don’t see what’s unique or striking about it.
Pink Floyd I’m ambivalent on. On the one hand I think their music is pretentious, plodding, and overly-dramatic, but on the other I think it’s just pretentious enough to be profound, and just dramatic enough to be captivating. I would never want to listen to Floyd on a road trip or while hanging out or any other scenario where I want my music to be a “soundtrack” to my life, but I can appreciate them the way I’d appreciate a painting in an art gallery.
You forgot pretentious. It’s plodding, pretentious shite
I was once like you.
And still am for the most part. The poetry realm is wholly saturated with garbage. It’s really easy to say it’s all garbage since a lot of “poets” pretty much define poetry by the hulking load of crap thats out there, so they set out to replicate their own crap without any thought to meaning, visuals, rhyme, meter, or anything else for that matter.
Try some poetry read aloud. Some GOOD poetry, not the local cafe trite. Bukowski is a pretty good place to start. Poetry can really come alive when it’s spoken.
My problem with most poetry is at first poets sometimes really have something to say. They say it, clearly, skillfully and majestically. Then they spend the next 20 years regurgitating that past poem or making up things to be troubled by. Except Dickenson, that woman OWNS misery.
I don’t know what Audora Welty does, but based on this, I’ll suppose she is very good at it.
Velvet Underground
Mark Rothko
The Grateful Dead
Link Wray
James Joyce
Frank Lloyd Wright
Ayn Rand
It was required reading in High School & in a college British Novels class. But I never read the whole thing. Cliff Notes & regurgitating what the teacher/professor wanted to hear worked fine for me both times.
It didn’t find it “difficult”–I’ve had no problem at all with much “heavier” works of art. But I just didn’t like Great Expectations!
Van Morrison
James Joyce
Federico Fellini
Some Like it Hot
Dead Poets Society
The Jesus and Mary Chain
The Grapes of Wrath
Henry V
Kerouac - On the Road
Hemingway - The Sun Also Rises
The Graduate
Marvin Gaye
I can never tell if I “get” a painting. I do like some of them, though! 
Bob Dylan’s voice has to be number one for me. He can write a song, but when people talk about how perfect his voice is, I’m always subconsciously waiting for them to admit they’re kidding. He sounds terrible. He used to sound bad, and he’s gotten worse with age. I don’t understand how anyone can enjoy listening to his voice.
Thank you, mr. jp, for reminding me about Joyce. I keep telling myself I should read Ulysses again because I was probably too young the first time - I think I was 14 - but I just can’t muster the energy to spend 800 pages thinking “what the fuck is going on here?” Portrait didn’t engage me either. And the most boring book I’ve read in the last few years was Malcolm Lowry’s Under the Volcano, and the critics said that was written in Joyce’s style - so maybe I should just skip the rest of his work.
You never finished it because, in fact, it never ends. It just goes on and on and on…
(I never finished it either. I read it during my “read the classics phase” a couple of years ago. It’s one of the few I couldn’t finish.)
Great Expectations is barely tolerable if you only read a chapter a week, like we did in high school. Dickens is so Victorian, and most Victorian prose is overwritten, overwrought, and excessively, floridly, ostentatious in its emotionalism.
I never understood Wuthering Heights. I loathed Heathcliff and thought Catherine was an idiot. I’m sure my view is colored by the fact that I read it in 8th grade, but I have no desire to try again.
I actually liked Georgia O’Keefe until I saw her paintings in person. They were flat and dull and I didn’t like them at all.
James Joyce…my father positively worships him. I think he’s a very intelligent snob who doesn’t want most people to get him. It gives him a superiority rush.
The Great Gatsby
Heart of Darkness
Had to read them both for school and hated them. Oddly I enjoyed Dickens and Hawthorne.
Well, it is plodding, that’s kind of its point. It is “kick back and drift” music. If you are expecting a Lindy Hop to break out around you, then you’ve picked the wrong music 
Did watching “Apocalypse Now” help you like or dislike the Heart of Darkness?
I loved “Portrait”. 'Tis a great book. Maybe it’s just a love/hate thing for his work?
Well, I admit there’s a whole lot of knowin’ that I simply don’t possess (but would like to…if I had about 3 more lifetimes to live), and in that respect, certainly he’s a great writer…able to incorporate all of that into his work. However, he’s very inaccessible; you can’t get him unless you have all that background. It’s difficult to enjoy the work on its own. That’s what bothers me about him. Again…it’s art that I don’t get; not bad art.