Amongst the handful of written classics there undoubtedly was a phalanx of really bad books, pamphlets, magazines etc. Indeed, there is likely an even greater pile of written rubbish - scribbles and sophomoric syntax - that never made it to a proper publisher.
The same holds true for almost every art form: for every Quadrophenia, we have scores of Yoko Ono albums. And for every Breaking Bad or Mad Men or Monty Python's Flying Circus that ultimately excels as a magnificent examination of the human condition, we have a gazillion horrid TV shows.
But I agree, the apex of every art form is to be celebrated and held up as a bellwether.
Who determines the fine line between noise and music? Art and rubbish? Great literature and pap?
Well, the list above is from a professor of liberal arts, and to my reckoning it’s a good list. I can only hope to be as well-read. Here is the thing: technology is making us lazy. Sound bytes instead of sound books. We are wired for deeper things, but hanker for pottage.