In this essay I propose to try an experiment. Literary criticism is traditionally employed in judging books. Any judgment it implies about men's reading of books is a corollary from its judgment on the books themselves. Bad taste is, as it were by definition, a taste for bad books. I want to find out what sort of picture we get by reversing the process. Let us make our distinction between readers or types of reading the basis, and our distinction between books the corollary. Let us try to discover how far it might be plausible to define a good book which is read in one way, and a bad book as a book which is read in another.

Those are the first words out of C.S. Lewis's pen in An Experiment in Criticism.

A lot of religious people claim to have read CSL, but I really don't believe most of them. It's a little like the poor sap who tries to get a date by telling the girl he has a hot car. Nothing in evangelical culture leaves evidence that it has anything but one of those goofy mopeds with pastel streamers on the handlebars. I doubt they have read C.S. Lewis when it comes to making aesthetic evaluations; not Experiment in Criticism, not Preface to Paradise Lost, not Studies in Words...

But I wander. I blame my cold.

I should like to continue the process of disillusioning the many who suppose we share a distaste for "bad Christian music". Sometimes similarities are deceiving, and sometimes it is possible to illustrate how so. Just because we both dislike liver doesn't mean we both like spinach, and when it comes to religious music, we (or at least some) are gradually coming to see that we together will have to like many things, not just hate the same one thing.

When people find out that music is an avocation which, according to their lights I take out of all proportion, they share with me their love of "the classics". It used to be that their eyes lit up and they said "Oh, yes! We have some Boston Pops records at home!"

I was thrilled for them. We would all jump up and down for a bit.

But those happy days are gone; Arthur Fiedler is no longer calling the tunes. Now they speak of Beethoven for Baby or Mozart for Mothers-To-Be or The Mozart Effect. Now there is a label [Decca] containing Music For Sunday Morning (assuming you're staying home from church to relax), Music For A Lazy Day, Music For A Stormy Evening, Music For A Quiet Evening....

Sometimes, when the people are young or when I feel like chatting, we talk about music. Other times, when I wish these people would just go away, I tell them it's not the same thing, we hear completely different things when we listen to the same music. There's really nothing to discuss.

This shocks them. They've been raised to enjoy self-esteem and pretend a love for diversity, and I treat them like they eat boogies. But good readers are doing something bad readers aren't. Good listeners are hearing what bad listeners are not. It's not a question of style or personal preference at all.

They of course don't understand the difference between themselves and literate people. They could know if they wanted to, but they don't want to. Ask a typical evangelical about art and he will babble about the arts in the Bible and the great Western Tradition of Biblical Art, or whatever it is he can remember from college; but look at what he does. Read the "film" reviews in Christianity Today, read the "thought questions" at the end. Watch the fundies giggle at Wilde. Check out the level of art discussed on Arts&Faith.com. Or check your favorite outlet: Ted Baehr or James Dobson.

But I said earlier, it is sometimes possible to illustrate what the many are doing when they should be doing something else. Take a look at this, ummm, "review" and ask yourself if this is a review or an advertisement. Is it about music or is it about a product?  What is here other than a mere "collection of tunez".

I select one gem. I am very suspicious of fundamentalists' views of the blood; I've been burned more than once. But here is McCrorie's review of Jesus Thy Blood and Righteousness:

Okay, WOW!  This one begins rather simply-deceptively so.  You hear a beautiful orchestral introduction with a harpsichord playing steady quarter notes underneath the accomplaniment, almost like the beginning of a ballad. That should have tipped me off that this song would be anything but typical.  As the song progressed, it PROGRESSED!  The use of alternative harmonies, dissonance, and dynamic shifts really kept me listening.  I liked it.  It may be a bit much for some of the more conservative lot; but for those of us who enjoy a bit more modern sound, this is great!

The song progressed as it progressed, it kept him listening, and he liked it. Surely Matthew Arnold is speaking to us from his grave!

Why would it "be a bit much" for the more conservative lot? Should we or should we not "enjoy a bit more modern sound"? How does this "more modern sound" contribute to our appreciation of the blood and righteousness? What is the point, Brian?

What is the purpose of music, evangelicals?

In a collection like this, I would typically find 3-4 songs that I would use in my church.  However, in King of Love, I would probably end up using 10-11 of these with my choir and church family. 

Can I say how impressed I am?

Nope, I don't think I can.

There is a reason I listen to Death and the Maiden and a reason I do not listen to Soundfroth. There is a reason I read the Magnificat and a reason I don't give a rip about Majesty Hymns. How is it that the Psalms of David, written centuries ago in a culture I would find crude and barbaric, should have meaning to me and the drivel of yesterday leaves me coughing with laughter?

Once again, folks: it really isn't talking about seriousness that matters. What matters is being serious. How might one become serious? By listening to Soundfroth? By reading McCrorie?