Can one detect a rather deafening note of triumphalism in some of the chatter about The Da Vinci Code plagiarism case? The champions of highbrow are having a field day. The latest details have been snickered over and repeated endlessly. Heard for the first time in court, the voice of the reclusive author Dan Brown is, it transpires, not at all 'like chocolate' (as Brown infamously described that of his Da Vinci Code hero Robert Langdon). And guess what? Brown can't even remember which source books he read when. Finally, it emerged last week that his art historian wife does a lot of his research anyway. Another day, another humiliation.

Not all of this seems to have much bearing on whether the ideas in the book were plagiarised or not - a decision which could see the novel withdrawn from sale and the forthcoming Hollywood film denied release. But who cares when the intellectual police have finally got their chance to dance on the grave of the fastest selling book in history?

Brown stands accused of having taken the main idea for The Da Vinci Code (namely, that Jesus and Mary Magdalene had children together) from an earlier non-fiction book, Holy Blood, Holy Grail. But the sneering literary set would really like to try him for something completely different. To them, he is guilty of the heinous crime of writing something that a lot of people wanted to read and tell their friends about.

The problem is, that's not actually against the law. So they are satisfying their blood lust over the plagiarism case instead. 'We told you so. Serves you all right for reading trashy airport novels, you losers. Here - take this copy of Ulysses and please try to restrict yourselves to proper, critically-acclaimed literature in future.'

Brown has become the ultimate scapegoat for the cultural snobs who cannot bear for anything that might be classed as 'popular' to take the hallowed form of 'A Book'. Since the trial, even hardened Da Vinci Code fans are turning against it. A friend who initially recommended the novel now wails: 'I knew it was too good to be true.' The memory of a book she had been unable to put down has been ruined for her by all the negative coverage. She feels stupid and duped. The would-be intelligentsia has won.

Suddenly, it is difficult to find anyone at all who will admit to having enjoyed The Da Vinci Code. This is rather peculiar with 40 million copies purchased worldwide, presumably not all of them by Dan Brown's mum.

And especially when, initially at least, it was a book that achieved its success not by virtue of a sinister marketing campaign (or by people being strapped to a chair and forced to read it), but through personal recommendations and word-of-mouth.

The sniffy backlash against money-making publishing makes ordinary readers go through a cruel sort of self-revisionism and doubt their own taste. ('Oh, well, if you say it's not great literature, who am I to judge?') But since when did something like The Da Vinci Code ever pretend to be great literature? Just as there is room on our dining tables for fish fingers as well as foie gras, there is room on our bookshelves for whatever authors want to write and readers want to read.

You can tell from the first page of a Dan Brown's book whether you are going to hate it. If you are going to complain that it is facile, gushy and silly (and then get all over-excited and self-righteous when the author is accused of plagiarism), just don't read it. Get back to your James Joyce compendium instead.

There will always be hugely popular works of fiction which end up lambasted by the critics for not being literary enough. But why is mass success so threatening and offensive? Surely it's for the good of the publishing industry in general? After all, reading should not be an elitist pursuit.

Win or lose this case, Dan Brown has drawn back into bookshops and libraries many people who had completely given up on finding anything they wanted to read ever again. The success of a page-turner thriller, whether semi-plagiarised or not, does not threaten Western society. But putting up with the book snobs is an ongoing trial for us all.