Usually, after I read the latest David Sedaris book, I am amused for a day or two. This last one, Calypso, gutted me for a day or two. Or, more like a week or two, since I'm still thinking about it.
Calypso is the one I ordered in German. A reminder: “Tiffany ... Cool. Stoned. Hacke. Durchgeknallt.” (It's notable that the first words I read were about his sister Tiffany.)
After I got the English version, I started reading, expecting the usual David Sedaris book. I had already read the lovely essay about the fox: that was typical fare. I wasn't prepared to have him bump up the stakes in Calypso.
Did you think you knew the Sedaris family from all the other books? No. You might have had a few hints, but no, not really. There are some just gut-wrenching revelations. And he crafts it and weaves it in so skillfully. It's remarkable. There's a theme. And who knows, there might have been themes in all of his other books, but those themes didn't resonate with me.
You might think you know me, too, but I have my own “Tiffany” about whom you hear very little. I don't know if I could ever be as frank about that as he is. Maybe someday.
Again, go read Calypso, a real memoir instead of this craven blog.
I’ve just finished reading this. It’s the only book I’ve read where every so often I’ve had to close the covers and stare out of the window for a while. Such casual candour. But so artful too. Extraordinary.
Posted by: Big Dot | February 21, 2019 at 03:16 PM
Big Dot - I followed it up with one of his earlier books, which was just nice and lighthearted - only now that I knnnnooooow the secrets, it took on a new layer of nuance.
Posted by: TheQueen | February 21, 2019 at 08:20 PM