There's a book of collected stories and essays called Labyrinths by Jorge Luis Borges (who is evidently pretty famous among readers in the other Americas). I own it. It's spent the last three years on my bookshelf, silently making fun of me for the fact that I bought it as part of the syllabus for a sophomore college English class, during which I read two of the stories, and after which I never picked it up again. I finally shut it up a few weeks ago by reading the rest of it.
Labyrinths is a weird, smart book, but one of coolest things about it, in my opinion, is the fact that JLB's writing is unarguably hard while also remaining interesting. Borges is clearly way smarter and more conceptually creative than I could ever hope to be, but as I read his stories he allows me, if I pay enough attention, to follow his breadcrumb trail of thought far enough that I die of exposure a mere 5 feet before the destination. (I'm never quite sure I understand what he's saying, but I know that I appreciate him having said it.) I feel like if Borges wanted to--if he was more interested in showing off his Smart and less interested in sharing his wildly interesting thoughts--he could have just as easily eaten the crumbs himself and left me, the reader, prostrate in the wilderness before I had a chance to follow him a step.
This immediately made me think of how seldom students (particularly English students) tend to admit that anything they read is difficult. Difficulty is a quality that's typically only mentioned if it's being manipulatively used as a tool to make said student seem smarter. ("Why indeed, scholars posit that Ulysses by Joyce is one of the densest novels in English literature, which is why I've read it merely five times rather than my typical nine, hem hem.")
Which is a shame, because "difficulty"--like, you know, most things--is a pretty multifaceted concept, one that has way more and better uses than name-dropping. Figuring out what makes a book seem difficult (or not) to you (and why) helps you learn what kind of books you're more likely to enjoy or appreciate. Considering your preferences in regards to difficulty makes you a more thoughtful reader, and you'll be better equipped to defend yourself from that annoying idea that anything that's been blanket-deemed "difficult" is worth your time.
Even if you decide that, for whatever reason(s), you prefer to spend your time reading romance novels, the fact that you put sufficient analytical thought into your decision will still make you appear strategically smart at a cocktail party.
That's what literature is good for, right?
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