britty books

A virtual Quonset hut. Photo: Benjaminenvans82/Wiki

I’ve never lived in a hut, but I built one of sorts.  Not in my childhood in Africa, but in my adulthood in Africa.  And compared to the actual huts in the village of Ngodsi, Malawi, this hut made of pre-formed bricks was a virtual mansion.  All-in-all, it was about the size of the one in this photo.  Oh, and it had a roof of tin as well.

I lived in the compound house.  I had my own room.  I slept on the bed and not on a pallet on the floor with my mother, father and siblings.  I took a shower in the bathroom instead of bathing in Calendar Lake, where students from UCLA were testing the water to see if it had anything to do with the onslaught of AIDS in that area.  I wore full shoes on the sand because of the parasites that could get in through a person’s soles.  I saw only a handful of Africans that owned shoes.

I considered myself privileged.  Broke and unemployed currently, I try to remind myself that I still am.

This story is not about a hut in Africa, even though Sedaris tries to steal Hugh’s childhood there in Me Talk Pretty One Day. Let’s get on with it.

Gist of the Story

Sedaris, like Sedaris does, makes friends with all sorts of people.  In “That’s Amore” in this book previously, he makes friends with the cranky Helen.  He interacts with a snotty co-passenger in “Solution to Saturday’s Puzzle,” and he attracts all the wrong sorts in “This Old House.”  It’s what he seems to do.

In this story, the man in the hut lives in a concrete structure at the end of the road in Normandy.  Sedaris lives in the middle.  So often, Sedaris passes by this man, whom he calls Jackie, and strikes up conversations with him from time to time.  Jackie, it seems, has suffered some type of head trauma and is kind of slow.  (Head trauma also seems to be a theme in this book.  See “Road Trips” for more details.).

Jackie, is put in jail for accusations of molesting his two young nieces.  The story is not about that.  It is about how he returned to the community after.  Like the other neighbours, Sedaris doesn’t really want to interact with Jackie; doesn’t really want to engage the association.  Sedaris comes to a small realization that living in a one-bedroom house with Hugh down the road has already stirred up enough ‘stuff’ for him in this community.  He doesn’t want to aggravate people’s imaginations.

However.  Sedaris, being Sedaris, is too polite to directly be rude and ignore Jackie completely.  Some chuckles ensue while Jackie shows Sedaris his X-rays and his new driver’s license.  It’s all a little uncomfortable, of course.  And rightly so.

Because I know I’ve been there before.  If only in Africa.

First Lines, Last Words

A single road runs through our village in Normandy, and, depending on which direction you come from, either the first thing or the last thing you pass is a one-story house – a virtual Quonset hut – made of concrete blocks.

And I wouldn’t have wanted him to take it the wrong way.

Quotable

After hanging out his socks, he picked up his rake and hoe and started getting the lawn in shape.

Book Rating

See the Book Ratings Chart for more details.  Short stories (like this one) will be rated together as a complete novel.

Forty across: "I give money to p-" Photo: Greg Williams/Wiki

I’m sorry, I don’t ‘get’ crosswords.  I find them extremely hard and coded with another language that I don’t speak.  Plus, abbreviations, or abbr., really don’t sit well with my soul.  Seriously!  Acronyms are especially hateful.  If you want to name your company Kentucky Fried Chicken (now KFC) or invent a light beam that is light amplification of stimulated emission of radiation ( it;s a laser, folks), then call it that and let the people know what, exactly, they are dealing with here.  Do you really think that stimulated radiation is a safe thing to correct your eyesight?  You might!

But I digress.

This story isn’t really about crosswords any more than “That’s Amore” by Sedaris was really about love.  It’s about relationship.  And guess what?  It’s a relationship with one woman again.  See also other interesting women in this book:  Mrs. Peacock, Helen and Rosemary. This time we have: Becky.

Gist of the Story

Becky is recently married and her and her new husband are taking a trip.  A honeymoon?  Maybe.  A fun adventure at any rate.  They forgot to book seats next to one another on the plane.  Becky’s husband is sitting in a single seat row in the bulkhead whereas Sedaris (of course) is seated next to Becky.  Does Sedaris want to move?  Of course he doesn’t.  Phobia about too much leg room.  Hilarity ensues.

Becky is another spitfire woman in a long line of Sedaris essays in this book.  Does he see the theme here?  Maybe a different title would have opened up a larger female market?  Who knows.  I’m not his marketing manager.

Anyhoo.

The crossword solutions (Eighteen across: “Not impressed.”) and the cough drops start flying and before you know it, the plane has touched down and with a bellyache you’re on to another Sedaris story.  No, it wasn’t the seat belt cutting into you, you’ve just been laughing too hard.

I read this feeling blue and immediately it cheered me up.  Thank you, Mr. Sedaris!

First Lines, Last Words

On the flight to Raleigh, I sneezed, and the cough drop I’d been sucking on shot from my mouth, ricocheted off my folded tray table, and landed, as I remember it, on the lap of the woman beside me, who was asleep and had her arms folded across her chest.

If they did, anyone could finish it.

Quotable

Forty-six down: “-ublic radio.”

Book Rating

I’ll be rating When You Are Engulfed in Flames as a whole (as a hole?).  See my book ratings chart on how this works.

Do all hitchhikers get propositioned? Photo by: Lycaon/Wiki

So far, “Road Trips” is my second favourite story in this book of essays, “The Understudy” being my first. I think when I find Sedaris being remotely sincere, I tend to have more of a connection with the story, hence my love of the ones that feature his partner, Hugh.

While I don’t believe that every hitchhiker is propositioned with an invitation to sex, I’ve never hitchhiked. Apparently Sedaris has…and quite a bit. I suppose if I was telling a story about hitchhiking, I might leave out all the times I just got a ride and only include the real off-the-wall instances, as well. Or, I suppose, I’d just make them up. (Statistic: hitchhikers are more likely to be run over than assaulted.) However, I do think that there is a believable element of truth in the two instances Sedaris is talking about in this essay.

At least, being a non-hitchhiker, I can imagine this could happen.

Funny first instance: Sedaris has not come out to family yet about his homosexuality but when pressed to have oral intercourse with the driver’s wife, he awkwardly blurts himself out of the closet and is quickly dumped on the side of the road. Funny.

Even funnier, the tow-truck driver with a dent in his forehead (from a hatchet, Sedaris speculates) persisting in a conversation about sex in a most diligent way when Sedaris desperately tries to change the subject by talking about a non-existent girlfriend. I find this situation most believable because I have had experience with people who won’t let it go (not sex and not in a tow-truck but the same idea). They think they are being very subtle and crafty, bringing up the subject of conversation a million different ways, but instead it comes across as sloppy and dogged.

Funny.

But the sentimental part of the story (which is a little deeper and not as transparent and probably just my imagination) was that Sedaris was a virgin during both of these experiences and waiting for that special someone. I think that’s sentimental, isn’t it?

Maybe I’m reaching.

First Line, Last Words

“The house I grew up in is located in a subdivision, and when my family first arrived the front yards were, if not completely bare, then at least close to it.”

“The man would pull over, and I would take my place by the side of the road, a virgin with three dollars in his pocket, and his whole life ahead of him.”

Quotable

“‘Oh goodness, I can’t give him a ride.  He looks too lumpy.’”

The horror mounts when the Sedaris kids take a trip to the sitter's house. Photo: devor ari/wiki

I haven’t read all the essays in this book yet, but so far this is my absolute favourite.  “The Understudy” scrolls back to Sedaris’ childhood (always a treasure trove of interesting, yet quirky stories) and relates to the reader the time when Mrs. Peacock came to babysit.  Sedaris and his four sisters are left alone in the house for a week with the sitter from hell.  She has each of the children on a rotating schedule to scratch her back with a long-handled hand-type scratcher.

Of course, it just gets worse from there.

Hamburger Helper every night (from scratch with ketchup) with a dose of missed meals for punishment round out the extent of Mrs. Peacock’s homebody skills.  Barking for more potato chips and soda while wearing a stained negligee seems more like upper management, so I didn’t include it in Mrs. Peacock’s domestic duties.

The turning point is when Sedaris’ sister, Gretchen, drops the back-scratcher and it breaks.  Calling in the troops (i.e. Keith with no shirt), the five kids and Mrs. Peacock take a field trip to her home to replace the back-scratcher with another, more solidly made tiny hand on a long stick.  Here we get a glimpse into Mrs. Peacock’s sad existence (because it wasn’t already sad enough), her homemade dollhouse with the matchbox fridge and her collection of dolls.

The best part of the story, in my humble opinion, is Sedaris’ mother’s reaction to her children when she returns home.  The kids come out hollering about all the injustices done to them by Mrs. Peacock and Mrs. Sedaris calmly takes Mrs. Peacock indoors to settle her payment and a sit-down.  Maybe a cup of tea?  At any rate, she definitely sides with Mrs. Peacock.  The kids feel betrayed…but they’re kids.  There’s nothing to do about it.

The ending reminds me of my own childhood.  My mom working at the answering service, which meant she really was an operator but only for a select few.  Something about her job transferred over to the home life because, I swear, she was never off the phone.  But here’s the thing: she could be yelling at us kids to behave at the top of her lungs (and sheesh, she was LOUD!).  The phone would ring and…bink.  She was transformed into this polite, calm kind voice ready for yet another wonderful conversation about who said what and ‘I just can’t believe it!’

My brother and I turned to each other and shrugged.  Then went outside to torture each other some more.

No sasquatches were harmed during the making of this book.

Three days later, another book down.  I haven’t done that in awhile!  Being sick has its advantages.

So, this book is a kind-of-not-quite-a-book book.  I found it in the fiction section and thought to myself ‘Oh, this is that book that someone recommended to me a long time ago.’  Why did I think it was about a Sasquatch learning to talk?  I don’t know.

This book is not about a Sasquatch learning to talk.

In fact, if the book you are thinking about reading does not have a description about what it is about on the back cover, chances are you shouldn’t read it.  The back of this book’s cover were glowing reviews about how “irresistibly funny” David Sedaris is. 

I must admit he was pretty funny.

But I’m still hung up on what exactly this book is supposed to be.  I found a small word “essays” on the back cover.  Are they auto-biographicial essays?  I would assume so from reading this book.  Why isn’t this book labelled as a biography?  Is that not funny enough?  What parts weren’t real?  And why is everything out of chronological order?  Was I supposed to read this front to back?   (I did).

Anyway, good read.  I only laughed out loud at the chapter “You Can’t Kill the Rooster” all about his baby brother with the potty mouth.  I admit it does take a lot to get me to laugh at a book.  With the invention of cell-phones, I’m finding it easier to make comments in public to no one in particular, but I’m still learning.

Other good selections from this book “I’ll Eat What He’s Wearing” and “Remembering My Childhood on the Continent of Africa”.  Funny, I picked all the essays the author features someone else.

He never featured a sasquatch.  Just sayin’.

Not even this one.