The Incapability to be immersed in literature and grasp artistic elements and riling obvious meanings of legendary works

Let's be honest,

When you try to enhance the depth of your knowledge (read: getting smarter in general) in hope that your perspective will grow variously and your critical thinking skill sharpens, you often find yourself thinking: what the fuck does this depressing crap try to tell. Most times, the list of famous books or movies and such ("TOP 100 BOOKS TO READ BEFORE YOU DIE") includes the works of the strangest, obscure, probably depressing or creepily happy, melancholic or bluntly written. When you read or watch them you [think you] are supposed to feel something; mind blown, sudden joy and motivation to live, or that uneasy spark. Could be the strings of words are too complicated, too unfamiliar, too much awkward silence in a scene, peculiar clown-like characters which end up haunting you every night, or that agitating ending. The point is, you just don't get it. You don't get the magic (doesn't have to be in positive terms; there is always the dark magic) of these notorious works (and you're still mesmerized by Troy and Gabriella's love story, and still mourn over how such perfect couple ended their relationship IRL). Therefore you wonder to yourself: am I just shallow and too clingy to popular culture or is it just a matter of personal taste?


[for this I still have the question left unanswered myself]