Why I Can't Stand David Sedaris

I recently read Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris, and, surprisingly, I pretty much hated it. Most people that know me will think I'm being facetious given me penchant for collecting memoirs and eating up non-fiction, but it was very much a disappointment in every sense for me. I didn't even go in having high expectations: The book was lent to me while at work because I had finished my other one and didn't have anything else to read. My expectations were to be entertained by a well-known author that had been described as smart, hilarious and a great writer.

First of all, there is no over-arching theme to MTPOD. Instead of a memoir, it is essentially a compilation of reminisces through Sedaris' life. The first chapter is about his speech therapy and how he knew being gay set him apart from everyone else. Already I have issues with this:

1. Just because you have a speech impediment does not mean you are gay. Speech has nothing to do with sexuality, especially in elementary school. I've never once heard of a study that correlates speech impediments and sexuality. Sedaris attributed his speech impediment to being gay and assigned all the other students in speech therapy his same sexuality. Projection much?

2. It is in no way believable that Sedaris thought about himself the way he is painting the picture to be. I'd argue that most children in elementary school aren't defining themselves by their sexuality and using that to relate to the world around them. Especially considering that he was growing up in South Carolina, the internet didn't exist and people were much more conservative in his childhood days. While he remembers thinking that it's a good thing he wasn't learning to play the flute because it was too phallic, I don't believe it for a second. Unless there were other things going on there (ie: abuse, exposure to pornography, etc), it's not normal for a young child to be thinking of their sister's flute as a penis and relating to the world in the way that he was. I can accept that Sedaris looks back on his childhood and then attributes his sexuality to situations, but for that to be happening at the time isn't believable.

The chapters tend to follow a somewhat chronological line, leading from his childhood into his illicit drug use while trying to become an artist and dropping out of college not once, but twice. We're treated to such gems as him taking two wooden crate boxes and filling them with garbage for two months before submitting them as art at his local museum. Incidentally his entry gets featured, though that seems to take a back seat to hearing about how grandiose he thought he was during the days of being awake on end while coked out of his head.

Next we read about a number of unskilled positions he holds in New York because he's too lazy (in his own words) to apply himself. So so far we have a lazy, drug-addled guy in New York that wants to be famous and have crowds cheering for him but doesn't have the gumption to even apply for new jobs when he hates the one he works at.

Eventually he becomes a teacher at an art college teaching writing, where he shows Soap Opera episodes and talks about celebrities with the students. Instead of preparing lesson plans, an outline or even a list of possible ideas, he comes to class with an empty briefcase and realizes he doesn't have anything planned for the 2 hours time. How is that even possible? Unless you're completely incompetent or the drugs have finally fried your mind, I don't see how that can be. Instead of trying to foster interest in writing or challenge himself and the students, he makes it his mission to just "fill time" and essentially swindles money from the college without performing a service. Do I enjoy hearing about how a teacher won't try in school and the students are paying hundreds (or thousands?) of dollars for an education they aren't getting? No. How is that in any way funny or amusing?

A hop, skip and a jump from that and Sedaris finds himself in Paris. Instead of getting out into the city and seeing the history, architecture and famous sites, Sedaris holes himself up in theaters watching American movies. Instead of taking part of Parisian culture, nightlife, art or fashion, he watches movies by himself. How is this in any way entertaining? It paints him, once again, as lazy, uncultured, self-righteous and pitying of those who get out to do things. That isn't exciting. I would have left him in a moment had I been his boyfriend. Instead of working, or doing something productive, he wastes his time in one of the most interesting cities in the world refusing to be put out of his element.

Eventually the books ends, and I take a sigh of relief. I honestly don't understand why Sedaris is so popular. I laughed a few times, but not enough for me to consider this a comedy. Instead, he whines through the whole book with self deprecating comments about his looks, abilities and experiences. He goes on for a couple pages about how boring is his life has been compared to his boyfriends'. Instead of this making Sedaris more interesting to me, I wanted to ditch this book and read one by the boyfriend! I realized that at the end of the book it had taken 272 pages for me to understand this: Sedaris wanted to be famous and wrote a series of books to get the applause he wanted. He mentions how he can get that applause without working hard, and it looks like he's gotten it. For some reason people love hearing about his drug-induced sense of grandeur, unmotivated working experiences in odd and unskilled jobs, being lazy and leech-like in Paris, trying to find the easiest path in life without working and self deprecation. Honestly, I didn't find his writing revolutionary or anything to write home about. He can write, but the content is useless for anything but lining my pets cages with. I can hear this same life story from any street person downtown, sans the novels.

I rated this 1/5 starts on GoodReads, obviously. If other people enjoy it, then I encourage them to read the rest of his works, but for me I'd rather have lemon juice poured into all my paper cuts.

Fin.