In his introduction to Highbrow/Lowbrow, Lawrence Levine explicitly defines the thesis of the book to be that the hierarchical valuations of culture (i.e. high-middle-low brow) are not as rigid as one might think. Their mutability is rooted in the fact that they are based on ideologies that are “always” subject to alteration. Levine’s work is an attempt to illustrate how the stratification began to appear as naturally fixed. The stakes of his project seem to lie in the concern over whether or not the inflexibility of the hierarchy limits one’s ability to understand culture. For me, this is the most important part, the “so what factor, “ if you will; the importance of his work hinges on the idea that being able to understand culture “better” is a worthwhile project.

Levine’s third chapter “Order, Hierarchy, and Culture”, traces the beginnings of the solidification of the stratification of culture. He points to the alienation men of a certain class in time, men from families who, by the 19^th century, had been in America for a while, felt as a result of a rapid cultural shift in America. Specifically, the high number of immigrants (Irish, Italian, German etc), architecture, capitalism, and transportation all of which seem to support each other’s rapid growth, causes these particular Americans to feel like strangers in the their native land.

Levine argues that, in order to gain a sense of control, these men escaped into Culture:

To retreat into their own private spaces whenever possible; to transform public spaces by rules, systems of taste, and canons of behavior of their own choosing; and, finally, to convert the strangers so that their modes of behavior and cultural predilections emulated those of the elites – an urge that I will try to show always remained shrouded in ambivalence. (177)

For me, the most compelling and disturbing section of this book is the characterization of the disciplining of audience behavior. I found myself cheering for the brazen admonishments of orchestra conductors. I could feel myself clapping when a “lady” was forced to remove her over-large hat. How I wish I could stop a movie and say to my fellow moviegoer, “we’ll wait till you’ve finished your text message.” But what does this say about me? Definitely, it says that I subscribe the “silence is golden” philosophy when it comes to be being an audience member. Does this make me a highbrow or a pacified middlebrow marionette? Do I take pleasure in the shaming of these audience members because of some (misplaced?) sense of artistic righteousness or because it validates my own way of experiencing art and entertainment? Is this really a kind of policing on my actions, a panoptical discipline or merely my cultural inheritance?

This line of questioning, I think, gets at the heart of Levine’s project of “understanding culture better” because, in looking back, in identifying the origins of cultural practice, we are able to interrogate our relationship with those practices and take an active roll in its analysis.

Maybe the next time I’m sitting through a movie I can’t stand, I’ll hiss at the screen and walk out.