Saturday, June 4, 2016

#1: Me Talk Pretty One Day

I am not sure I'd want to be friends with David Sedaris. He's whiny and needy and self-depricating, but on the other hand, he's funny and eccentric and self-depricating. He would either annoy the crap out of me or make me want to call him everyday just to hear his stories. Thank God I can just pick up one of his books or turn on NPR and there he is; no need to fret about having a rocky friendship with him.

Me Talk Pretty One Day has set on my book shelf for at least two years. I bought it at a Goodwill on a book buying spree one day, but I'd just never got around to reading it. But it's on Amazon's 100 books list, and so I finally decided to pick it up, and once I did, I couldn't put it down. I ignored my husband and kids every chance I got so that I could gulp down the stories in this book.

The thing I loved about this book was the way that Sedaris shares universal experiences. I'm not a gay man, and I never had a speech impediment or a drug addiction; I'm an only child and have an excellent relationship with both my parents. I think about the only thing Sedaris and I have in common is our mutual respect and love for Ira Glass, yet I still somehow related to all of his stories, brought to life with humor and joy and sadness and a thousand other emotions he creates in his writing. 

Sedaris begins by telling the story of his childhood encounter with the speech therapist. While the sessions are unsuccessful for Sedaris, who claims he "still prefer[s] to use the word chump" because of his lisp, the story is not. Instead, it brings into focus the tale of an outsider just realizing they are different, of someone trying so desperately at their job yet still failing, and of an attempt to change someone who doesn't want to be changed. All of these plot lines are created with a sense of humor and jest - a clear lens towards the past that is able to focus on this intimate situation but at the same time doesn't take itself too seriously.

Throughout the rest of the book, Sedaris continues to tell his life's story with situations that most of us can relate to: not knowing where he belonged, having a parent embarass him during an important moment, relating to his various siblings, and falling in love. Of course, for Sedaris, some of these are a bit more extreme than in most of our lives: his father mocks him during an artistic performance in which an utterly stoned Sedaris clips his hair in front of a live audience; his brother is the complete opposite of him - a cursing red neck who likes to get in bar fights -in everything except stature; his father's obsession with his sister's weight leads her to wear a fat suit home; and .

While I've never been stuck on a bus in Paris while another American talks bad about me, I have overheard a conversation I wasn't supposed to in which an insult was thrown my way. The themes  of the stories bring them back to my own life. It's like each little snippet shows some universal truth that we all can share in, a classic story told with a modern - often dramatic - twist.

As a writer, there is so much to take away from this book. Sedaris has an excellent sense of humor in the work, a challenge in all writing, and he does a great job of telling short stories that have a clear structure and focus on one small aspect of his life, something I need to learn to do better.

Even more important, however, is the takeaway that the writing must be truthful. In modern memoir, so often authors seem to get so trapped in wanting to create a good story that they lose sight of creating a true story. I have more than once finished a memoir doubting that most of it actually happened. I mean, it was a good story, it just wasn't real.

 I never felt this with Sedaris. I believed him.

I'm not sure what landed this book on the list. Reading reviews, people have a love/hate relationship with it in much the same way I can't decide if I'd want to be friends with Sedaris or not. They say they know its funny and amusing, but at the same time cut it down for being too common or banal. For me - and other reviewers - the common, however, is what makes it wonderful, and I can't help but wonder if the reason for its selection was the fact that it serves as a kind of new American novel, told for a generation whose adventures are totally different and, well, perhaps a bit banal.

I can't really be sure, but it holds its own and is a great read. 

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