I believe most of us, whether or not we subscribe to a Rational school of thought, would like to view ourselves and our surroundings with Cartesian clarity and distinctness. Why, then, do we have such a tendency to venerate the abstruse?
When I read "The Waste Land," or "Being and Time," or (heaven forbid) "Finnegan's Wake," am I more impressed by the author's erudition or my own? Do I harbor an empty pride at being able to comprehend and intelligibly discuss a difficult text, thereby distinguishing myself from the common rabble? If this is so, and I suspect it is, then shame on me and others like me!
Even so, I still prefer to reread Faulkner, rather than Hemingway...