I've always been interested in what classifies a book as "highbrow" or "lowbrow." What elusive factors--aside from the basic quality of the writing-- make some books more valued than others? And readers have different tastes; so who gets to decide these things, anyway?
But our culture seems to have an invisible yet ever-present value system; a mutual agreement of which books we would most proudly display of if we ever met an aliens who asked to see examples of our art.
"Highbrow" books are valued in part because they gracefully address Deep, Meaningful Themes.
But there are some that contain surprising moments... moments that would not be out of place in a raunchy comedy film that critics roll their eyes at. Here are some typically "highbrow" works that contain things you might not expect:
Obviously Shakespeare is a master of language. He slides between vastly different situations with ease, from zany hijinks to high tragedy. Among the aspects of his plays that have been studied--meditations on death; the trials of the human heart--there remains one thing that nobody can explain.
The "huh?" moment you wouldn't expect: Bears. For no reason. Shakespeare was not known for his long stage directions. Typically "he enters" or "she dies" is the extent of it, but in The Winter's Tale, there is a stage direction that says, "he exits, pursued by a bear." No bears were mentioned prior to that scene and there was absolutely nothing leading up to that. This is equivalent to a Will Ferrell- esque movie where a bear appears for no reason... and this was written by the master of the English language.
This literary masterpiece is truly an epic at nearly 1,000 pages and there is no question that it is "highbrow." Jam-packed with literary references and dense writing, Joyce once said he put enough in there to keep the professors busy for hundreds of years. So far, he's right.
The "huh?" moment you wouldn't expect: Crap. Literally. Soon after one of the protagonists is introduced, there are a few pages dedicated entirely to him pooping.
Like all fairy tales, because they are so ubiquitous across a variety of cultures, there are many different versions of this tale. In some, a huntsman saves Little Red, in others, she saves herself. She's sometimes cunning, sometimes naïve, and sometimes just plain dumb. In one of the first and most famous versions of the tale, the wolf tells her to climb into bed with him and she does...
The "huh?" moment you wouldn't expect: first, she pauses to remove her clothing, despite the fact that the wolf never said anything about removing clothing. She does this of her own free will. Whether she realizes it is the wolf or whether she thinks it's good old Grandma--either way, what are you doing, Little Red? What are you doing?
Okay, yes, this is technically a graphic novel, but it in Time Magazine's "100 greatest novels" list so I guess if they count it, I can too. This is no doubt a tour-de-force of the medium; a non-linear narrative that jumps decades and storylines with ease and creates rich, complicated characters that aren't afraid to be un-heroic and deeply flawed. Moore was Christopher Nolan-ifying superheroes before Nolan did.
The "huh?" moment you wouldn't expect: one character gets naked and f***s off to Mars. It makes sense in the context of the story, but it still seems like something out of a raunchy intergalactic college comedy. (Sadly, I don't think "intergalactic college comedy" is a genre that exists. But it should.)
This might be the opposite of the other items on this list, because this work is famous and lauded not as much for talking about Deep and Meaningful Things as it is for being infamously taboo--not only for its era, but for today's standards too. (Also if you're wondering why I'm considering Sade "highbrow," it's because he influenced such people as Michel Foucault and Angela Carter. Nothing says you've made it to Highbrow like influencing people who appear in Norton anthologies).
The "huh" moment you wouldn't expect: in the middle of all the explicit erotica, there is a long sophisticated and progressive rumination on the philosophy and morality of a true republic and the ways in which religion is the opiate of the people--all before Marx.
When it comes down to it, between inexplicable bears, stripteases, f*ing off to Mars--or any other activity that sounds like they should be in a comedy film that would be panned by critics--books that have an inherent, agreed-upon Value are just as weird as other narratives that may not be as valued.
These odd scenes are the equivalent of seeing a famous person take out the trash or pick their nose. "Highbrow" books are human too--and maybe we shouldn't be so quick to dismiss other books that have inexplicable oddities.