I have long enjoyed David Sedaris's sense of humor. An essay he wrote about an unflushable poo has stayed with me longer than any story about poo should. So on my last airplane ride I picked up Barrel Fever, a collection of stories and essays.
Flying with a toddler did not afford me much time for reading, so it's taken me much longer to get through it. And it only took a few of his short stories for me to realize that I'm actually not a fan of Sedaris's fiction. He seemed more crude than I remember his nonfiction stories being. Or maybe it's harder for me to swallow crudeness when it's made up than when I believe it to have really happened.
Whatever the case, I skipped the rest of the short stories and dove into the essays. Which I enjoyed as much as I remembered enjoying Sedaris. So I recommend his nonfiction, if you get his sense of humor. But save your time by not reading his fiction.
No comments:
Post a Comment