ABSTRACT

The preceding chapters have aimed to show that a focus on embodiment is often indispensable in trying to account for the central paradox that the various ways of using, perceiving and judging the body clearly reveal a social logic and structure, while at the same time presenting themselves with all the ineluctable necessity of an immutable nature. More importantly, they have tried to demonstrate that because class-differences become inscribed in the body, that is, are at once individualized and naturalized, that there is often no need for the conscious, intentional assertion of social distance and that social agents very often prove to be distinguished despite themselves. While this applies to all social groups, it seems particularly important to underline when dealing with dominant tastes and the dominant relationship to the body. If the logic and language of exposition often force one to describe dominant tastes “as if ” they were the product of a conspicuous attempt at signalling difference, then the very notion of a ‘sense of distinction’ – that ‘acquired disposition which functions with the obscure necessity of instinct’ (Bourdieu, 1984: 499) – serves to highlight the fact that dominant tastes are objectively distinguished without any conscious effort at distinction. In fact, the embodied character of class-tastes already tends to preclude the question of whether distinction is “sincere” or “contrived”, “authentic” or “cynical”, “natural” or “conspicuous”. As long as the generative principle behind the most everyday lifestyle-choices is located at the level of explicit choice and conscious deliberation, the very idea of practices that are guided by an objective intention

without implying subjective strategizing is in fact bound to appear as ‘the oxymoron of unconscious strategy’ (Alexander, 1995: 152ff.; also Elster, 1985). However, as already discussed in Chapter 2, one of the main reasons why the dominant do not have to resort to strategies of conscious distinction is because they assimilate their “culture” under conditions that tend to exclude its very awareness as such. That is why Bourdieu insists that ‘the search for distinction has no need to see itself for what it is, and all the intolerances – of noise, crowds etc. – inculcated by a bourgeois upbringing are generally sufficient to provoke the changes of terrain or object which, in work as in leisure, lead towards the object, places or activities rarest at a given moment’ (1984: 249). From this it follows that one of the surest indicators of “taste” is, somewhat paradoxically, the capacity for distaste. ‘The discourse about dislike and ugliness’, writes Mary Douglas, ‘is more revealing than the discourse about aesthetic beauty’ (1996: 50). In fact, the inevitable counterpart of a ‘negative cultivation’ that inculcates ‘the discipline required to set aside and hold in check the insistent stimuli of daily life so that attention may be free to tarry upon distinctions and discriminations that may be otherwise overlooked’ (Goffman, 1951: 301), is the systematic lowering of the thresholds of tolerance for “heavy” foods, “loud” noises or colours, “strong” smells and perfumes, “sweet” flavours or “cloying” textures, in short, for everything that provides an all too “obvious”, “easy” or “cheap” source of gratification. This cultivation of distaste perhaps finds one if its clearest expressions in the bourgeois phobia of “crowds”, the realization par excellence of the dominant fiction of society as essentially composed of “the masses”, an amorphous horde, homogenous and homogenizing, which abolishes difference and distance by subjecting each and every one to its unconcerted movements and rhythms, not to mention to all kinds of unsolicited contacts and sensory impressions (body odour). Far from leading to a cynical strive for distinction, one could in fact argue that the early exposure to conditions of luxury provides the basis for what is in a sense the most “enchanted” relationship to the body. In fact, more than any other group, the dominant can rely most strongly on the “natural” inclinations of their bodies, their tastes and distastes, in order to be “spontaneously” led to the most distinctive and distinguished properties, starting of course with those that are materialized in the perceptible body itself. Contrary to mechanistic, quasiCartesian models of consumption, which often credit different types of products, goods and foods – especially the sweetest, heaviest and fattiest – with an intrinsic power to “tempt” or to “seduce” – i.e. to suspend conscious control and speak directly to bodily impulse and desire (themselves defined in a wholly essentialist manner) – the notions of class-taste and class-habitus serve to underline the fact that such products can only exert a seductive effect on those who already have a taste for them. Conversely, those who have acquired a taste for the light, the refined, the healthy, the pure and the organic (see Chapter 5) tend to “naturally” avoid such products, because they either have “no taste” for them or, better yet, find them completely distasteful. Without therefore minimizing the time, means and effort that go into the cultivation of the dominant physique, such explicit forms of “body-work” always

draw a considerable part of their efficacy from the more opaque action of classdispositions. It is the latter which endow the dominant relationship to the body with an ease and self-evidence that makes it appear as rooted in nature. This not only sets it apart from those who are at once dispossessed both of the legitimate physical capital, as well as the intrinsic motivation to attain it (i.e. workingclass), but also from the anxious, “superficial” and often equally “vulgar” concern with looks and appearance that characterizes members of the petitbourgeoisie. Crucially, the misrecognition of the social foundations of their own distinguished tastes is one of the central factors that contribute to reinforcing the dominant in their own sociocentrism. It effectively ensures that other ways of perceiving, using and treating the body – i.e. those that are the product of less privileged social conditions – are not only seen as “un-think-able”, but elicit a response that is often profoundly visceral. In fact, at least one of the reasons why ‘aesthetic intolerance can be terribly violent’ (Bourdieu, 1984: 56) is because disputes over taste, especially in everything pertaining to the body, are rarely restricted to the dispassionate mode of intellectual disagreement, but more often express themselves in the form of bodily emotion. In this sense, there is a kernel of truth in the maxim “De gustibus non est disputandum”, since the most unequivocal affirmations of class are precisely those that circumvent deliberation or debate, which are not “discussed”, but find their direct expression in the apparently most spontaneous and quasi-automatic of physical reactions. Repulsion, disgust or even vicarious shame are the ultimate expression of an inability to comprehend the tastes of others, of understanding how they could eat “this”, wear “that” or do “those things” to their bodies. However, as the following chapter will aim to show, the opposite of course also holds true, namely that for those who are the product of less privileged social conditions and consequently have higher ‘thresholds of repugnance’ (Elias, 1982), it is often equally difficult to grasp the intensity of the reactions that transgressions against “good taste” can provoke among the dominant. To a less sensitive palate, a less “trained” eye or a less “cultivated” ear such reactions will all too easily appear as disproportionate or even contrived. Small wonder then, that they regard the tastes of the latter with the suspicious eye of (petit-bourgeois) resentment, seeing mere “affectation”, deliberate “posturing” and “conspicuous” intent in what are most often wholly sincere expressions of cultural antipathy.