When I first read David Sedaris’ Naked and Me Talk Pretty One
Day (many years ago now), I recall that I laughed out at least once per
essay, and often more. His candor was refreshing, and the comedy he milked from
the travails of his youth and family was raw and hilarious. Maybe the well on
that has been tapped, because I don’t think I did more than chuckle once or
twice in this whole book, and certainly never laughed so hard that my sides
hurt.
In this book he plumbs the banalities of book tours, trips to the dentist, and why he walks around picking up trash all day. To be honest, I even skimmed several of the chapters. Maybe this is my fault and not his – maybe his writing is
the same and I am just no longer amused by it. I will have to go back to Me Talk Pretty One Day to confirm. But
unless you are a die-hard Sedaris fan and need to read everything he ever
writes, I’d give this one a miss. His latest article for the New Yorker, Stepping Out, is a better (and shorter option).
