This morning the word leapt out at me from today's paper. In a book review in the Spectrum supplement of the Melbourne Age:
...Appleby was always happy to spice up a line of inquiry with a quote from Shakespeare or Milton if not Aeschylus in the original Greek. Clayton provides a comparable mainlining of aesthetic pretension and compulsion, only this time it's painterly.
I would have to admit that the reviewer who wrote these words, Peter Craven, could be a little on the pretentious side himself. He seemed to be embarrassed to be reviewing a crime novel, calling such writing "trash" and describing the act of reading it as "slumming it".
