Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris
Aug. 24th, 2016 10:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chuckroDavid Sedaris has lived an interesting life. And by “interesting” we mean “not quite a garbage fire, but close.” This is a collection of his writing about various events in his life.
Some of the stories work better than others; I found that the first few were a little weak, but the book really picked up around the time he started doing crystal meth. His attempts to learn French were also an absolute delight, as not a single word of French actually appears in the book, just twisted mistranslations and approximations of what was actually said.
I have to believe, of course, that his life wasn’t actually the disaster he makes it out to be—comic self-deprecation is a classic technique that I’ve used myself many a time. You take a funny event, pull out the boring parts, punch up the absurdity a little, and emphasize exactly how your poor choices brought you to this place so the audience can feel okay that they’re laughing with you, not at you. (For that matter, he writes quite well for someone who claims his IQ rivals his height in inches.)
I also appreciate the fact that his sexuality is just another thing—it’s not played for comedy or sympathy, it’s just there. He’s skinny, he’s from South Carolina, he’s gay. And besides the weird midget guitar teacher, nobody seems to care. (In France, he and his boyfriend are “the Americans” not “the gays” or even “the gay Americans.”) Was that revisionist on his part? Maybe, but I’m totally cool with stories that play that way. It’s how it should be, y’know?
Overall: Not every one of these worked for me, but the ones that did really did. Are his other books also about drug-addled misadventures and terrible mistranslations? Because I’d love to read those.
Some of the stories work better than others; I found that the first few were a little weak, but the book really picked up around the time he started doing crystal meth. His attempts to learn French were also an absolute delight, as not a single word of French actually appears in the book, just twisted mistranslations and approximations of what was actually said.
I have to believe, of course, that his life wasn’t actually the disaster he makes it out to be—comic self-deprecation is a classic technique that I’ve used myself many a time. You take a funny event, pull out the boring parts, punch up the absurdity a little, and emphasize exactly how your poor choices brought you to this place so the audience can feel okay that they’re laughing with you, not at you. (For that matter, he writes quite well for someone who claims his IQ rivals his height in inches.)
I also appreciate the fact that his sexuality is just another thing—it’s not played for comedy or sympathy, it’s just there. He’s skinny, he’s from South Carolina, he’s gay. And besides the weird midget guitar teacher, nobody seems to care. (In France, he and his boyfriend are “the Americans” not “the gays” or even “the gay Americans.”) Was that revisionist on his part? Maybe, but I’m totally cool with stories that play that way. It’s how it should be, y’know?
Overall: Not every one of these worked for me, but the ones that did really did. Are his other books also about drug-addled misadventures and terrible mistranslations? Because I’d love to read those.
