I ordered a book on Lorca and flamenco, written by a flamenco singer with quite a few books to his name. I had hoped that it would have something to offer, but it is quite bad in many very obvious ways. I feel an almost visceral disgust at a particular kind of discourse, and can barely stand to look at it.
This is tied to what I feel about Ben Sidran's Concert for García Lorca. It's not even good jazz, and what I don't want to hear an American read aloud from the duende lecture in Spanish in a horrid accent. The Spanish teacher in me shudders. Isn't this the worst kind of kitsch!
From my own dislikes I have something to learn. It's telling me something about myself and my relation to the subject matter.