Book #69: Me Talk Pretty One Day

Book #69: Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris

January 12, 2014


The title of this book (a collection of short, humorous stories about various events or periods in the author's life) always made me think that it was a sad tale about a child with a speech impediment, or one who came from a remote region who aspired to rise in society, who faced many obstacles along the way. Yeah, I was pretty far off the mark.

This isn't the first Sedaris text that I've read. I read When You Are Engulfed in Flames not long after it was published; my father had a copy of it (he's not much of a reader, but I could see how he would be drawn to this work), and I read it on and off during a week-long trek to Flagstaff for my freshman year of college, with my bratty brother and a rented van full of my shit. I don't remember much about the individual pieces in the other book, but I do remember my reaction to it. I found myself thinking that Sedaris sounded like a prick, that he was too clever. Cloying, really. I read some of it again a couple of years later, when I was cat sitting at a neighbor's apartment; I found myself thinking that she would have that book, and I picked it up, and my opinion hadn't really changed.

So I was, of course, hesitant to read this one, but since I'd always been intrigued by the title, I gave it a shot. My feelings were still there for the first couple of stories, but overall I enjoyed this work, especially when Sedaris was describing awkward situations that everyone could find themselves in, and adding a sense of profundity to them. I guess this is most evident in the short piece "Big Boy," when, during a party at a friend's home, he goes to the bathroom and finds an enormous turd that won't flush, and he's so embarrassed that he finds a way to get rid of it...even though it wasn't his. Very funny, especially since everyone has found themselves in an equally awkward social situation (if not involving a turd, then something else equally disgusting or embarrassing); yet Sedaris also reflects that that situation, that need to get rid of the turd because of the impression that it might give the other party guests about him, says something about himself personally. That was probably my favorite piece in this work.

I enjoyed Sedaris most when he was describing his family (like his father, who hoards produce; or his sister, who grew up a dreamy artist). I didn't realize until, like, ten minutes ago that comedienne Amy Sedaris is his sister; they've even collaborated on writing together. Amy Sedaris has an extensive filmography, but she's not quite as famous as the likes of Tina Fey. She's also beautiful, even in her 50's, though many of the characters she's portrayed have been hideous in some way or another. In "A Shiner Like a Diamond," Sedaris describes his sister as being the most beautiful one in the family, and I believe she'd take that title in about any family. And, in the story, she, as a young New Yorker, was photographed with makeup that made her look like she'd been severely beaten; this was her own choice for a magazine shoot. She also tricks her shallow father by wearing the bottom half of a fat suit on a home visit, causing him to freak out whenever she put any food in her mouth. I also found myself interested in Sedaris's mother, and the relationship that he had with her, which (if I recall) is delved into in a little more detail in When You Are Engulfed in Flames. Sedaris describes her love of napping more than once, but never in a way that seems bitter; it's funny to imagine her spending her days curled up with her dog, rather than tragic.

I also enjoyed Sedaris's descriptions of his time in Paris with his boyfriend Hugh. Especially amusing were the descriptions of his abusive French teacher; the title of the book comes from a conversation between some of the other international students, and written in translated English, Sedaris does make them sound like ignorant folks from the backwoods. I found myself thinking that Sedaris might have made a whole book just centered around the his experiences in France (as he did spend several summer months there over the course of many years before spending an extended time in Paris). The whole book isn't really tied together by any underlying theme; while the title can also be connected to the first story, as Sedaris describes months spent working with a stony speech therapy teacher on his lisp, there's no connection between all of the stories besides Sedaris himself. They mostly chronological, first starting with his childhood and ending in his 40's, but otherwise...I don't know, I feel like there should be more of a theme. 

Now, I appreciate Sedaris's self-deprecating humor. The guy wouldn't have a career if he took himself too seriously; he makes his money on looking at his life through such a lens. But one thing that did bother me about this book was the almost nonchalant way that he described his out-of-control drug addiction in the story "Twelve Moments in the Life of the Artist" (during his addiction years, he was involved in the trendy, revolting "art" scene in Raleigh); I also found it kind of disturbing that his parents were attending his insane "performances" rather than dragging his ass to rehab. Maybe I was bothered by something similar in the other book...but obviously, he came out of it one way or another and has had a successful career, so who am I to judge the thinking process of his loved ones? Or maybe he still does hard drugs (pot and even alcohol are one thing, but speed and meth is something else entirely); I don't know enough about Sedaris's personal life to know a thing about it. From the descriptions of his time in Paris, I wouldn't think that would be the case; I would assume (hope) that it's something he left behind him.

I remember thinking before that Sedaris came across as kind of elitist. But I didn't really get that vibe in this book; when he stuck up his nose at people in his stories, he was either out of his mind on drugs (and therefore in a very wrong headset in the first place), or he was, in my view, correct in his attitudes. Like with the ugly Americans on the train in Paris, or the obnoxious woman from North Carolina who tagged along on a visit to New York with one of his friends; these people were clearly detestable. Plus, Sedaris shows his mettle with his descriptions of the blue-collar jobs that he held between stints in college; he works to make his way, even if he tries to work as little as he possibly can to get by. Hey, at least he's honest.

I was listening to NPR around the holidays, as I found the music played on public radio to be less cliched than what had been playing on the local mix station's Christmas playlist (which had been going since well before Thanksgiving). NPR had a segment of short Christmas stories, and one was read from Sedaris's Holidays on Ice collection. It was about a time he'd been working at a mall Santa station (maybe as a photographer or an elf or something, I didn't catch that detail) and he saw a crying little girl being scolded by her mother as she wanted to get a delightful picture of the girl on Santa's lap. This caused Sedaris to reflect on the falseness of supposed "happy" memories in pictures, or of the Christmas season in general. When Sedaris's humor hits on truth like that, that's when he's at his best. His experiences would tell you that he's no smarter than anyone else, that most of his experiences in life haven't been any more spectacular than anyone else's (though his time in Paris is more than enviable), but that's what makes his perspective all the more intriguing and important.