Me Talk Pretty One Day
by David Sedaris
c. 2000
Little Brown and Company: Boston
272 pages
by David Sedaris
c. 2000
Little Brown and Company: Boston
272 pages
This is one of those books that I saw so many times on tables and display shelves in bookstores everywhere that I went that curiosity got the better of me, and when I saw it at the bookstore a couple of weeks ago, I made a note and searched for it on paperbackswap.com, and had it sent to me be someone in California or Texas or something. (I take a moment here to say that if you are not a member of paperbackswap.com, you should go and join now, its a wonderful thing that gets you free books and allows you to share books that you don't need anymore with people who are going to read them.)
Anyway, the book got to me on Monday, and Tuesday was the day that I had set aside for a full night desperate, this time I really will do this, cleaning of my bedroom (usually an unimaginable disaster area.) I am not a good cleaner, and so I give myself incentives to keep working, and in this case, reading was this incentive. This was a good book for that purpose, because it is a collection of autobiographical essays that are not necessarily connected to one another. That means that each has a definitive end (good for the, "one essay and then back to cleaning" mentality.) Also, because they're disjointed in some ways, there was no feeling of being interrupted by short spurts of reading, something that bothers me sometimes when I just want to know what happens.
I didn't realize when I got this book that it was a memoir of sorts. I suppose that I am on something of a memoir kick right now. The reviews on the back and in the inside cover of this book seemed to suggest that I would be rolling on the floor in sidesplitting laughter and happy to be alone in the house for the night. It wasn't quite that entertaining, but there is very little that I read that pulls that kind of laugh out loud reaction from me (only Douglas Adams and Dave Barry come to mind.) The essays were amusing, some a little absurd, but all around entertaining. It seems that Sedaris has led the kind of life in which he is surrounded by people of extremes (although not as extreme as those that are hanging out with young Augusten Burroughs) and he is able to see and communicate the humor in these situations while still leaving these people with their humanity, something that I think Burroughs occasionally failed to do.
I enjoyed this book for the purpose that it served, but I will be paperback swapping my copy away this evening, as it didn't make any kid of enormous impression on me. However, I had already ordered another of Sedaris' books with this one, and so you get that next (or before this, since I am posting both tonight) because it seemed more like the right kind of book to be reading when I am in kind of a start and stop sort of place, so I can say that I enjoyed it enough to want to read more right away, not too great an endorsement from someone who always wants to [read. more. now.] but an endorsement nonetheless.
Anyway, the book got to me on Monday, and Tuesday was the day that I had set aside for a full night desperate, this time I really will do this, cleaning of my bedroom (usually an unimaginable disaster area.) I am not a good cleaner, and so I give myself incentives to keep working, and in this case, reading was this incentive. This was a good book for that purpose, because it is a collection of autobiographical essays that are not necessarily connected to one another. That means that each has a definitive end (good for the, "one essay and then back to cleaning" mentality.) Also, because they're disjointed in some ways, there was no feeling of being interrupted by short spurts of reading, something that bothers me sometimes when I just want to know what happens.
I didn't realize when I got this book that it was a memoir of sorts. I suppose that I am on something of a memoir kick right now. The reviews on the back and in the inside cover of this book seemed to suggest that I would be rolling on the floor in sidesplitting laughter and happy to be alone in the house for the night. It wasn't quite that entertaining, but there is very little that I read that pulls that kind of laugh out loud reaction from me (only Douglas Adams and Dave Barry come to mind.) The essays were amusing, some a little absurd, but all around entertaining. It seems that Sedaris has led the kind of life in which he is surrounded by people of extremes (although not as extreme as those that are hanging out with young Augusten Burroughs) and he is able to see and communicate the humor in these situations while still leaving these people with their humanity, something that I think Burroughs occasionally failed to do.
I enjoyed this book for the purpose that it served, but I will be paperback swapping my copy away this evening, as it didn't make any kid of enormous impression on me. However, I had already ordered another of Sedaris' books with this one, and so you get that next (or before this, since I am posting both tonight) because it seemed more like the right kind of book to be reading when I am in kind of a start and stop sort of place, so I can say that I enjoyed it enough to want to read more right away, not too great an endorsement from someone who always wants to [read. more. now.] but an endorsement nonetheless.
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