The charm of David Sedaris is that he is relatable. In all his essays, he managed to put himself in awkward situations, and we can relate to this. To me, the book reads like stand up comedy in short story format. Sure it’s funny, but it only took a few chuckles out of me. I guess my funny bone is down with osteoporosis.
The book is divided into two parts: his life in America growing up in a relatively comfortable middle-class family, and the latter half describing his life living as an American in Paris. The first part is a struggle finding his own place as an adolescent while being a victim to his parent’s wishes, like becoming a bona fide guitarist in a family band. His siblings make frequent cameos in the first half of the book.
Still, I’m a bit biased. Having been an exchange student in France, I enjoyed the second half more, especially when he locked horns with the French language, duelling with masculine / feminine definite articles, describing the concept of Easter in broken French to hilarious effect, and coming across other loudmouth Americans in the Paris metro who thought him a pickpocket.
The dude managed to take the piss of himself and it makes for an entertaining read.
