Wednesday, July 18, 2007

The Man in the Hut

I like David Sedaris. I've read a couple of his books, some of his short stories, and I even listened to a radio broadcast reading by him. I'm thoroughly enchanted by him. The wit of Dave Barry, sans the cerebral bent, which is refreshing.

David Sedaris is simply a joy. What a treat to find a piece by him in the New Yorker.

I can't say I took anything profound away from this essay. As seems to usually be the case, Sedaris seems to simply chronicle life, comically highlighting irony and ridiculous outtakes. Here, he talks about, well, a man living in a hut in the village in Normandy where Sedaris lives with his partner, Hugh. The man in the hut is Jackie, who is living a caricature life of a modern day French peasant on the downslope of life.

Sedaris exposes, as usual, his deep insecurities, submissive nature, and generally dysfunctional personality. All framing his looking glass observation of Jackie, sliding from a sadly mundane life to disgrace to illness to death.

Clearly not a happy story, but funny, and weighs as another citation of the human condition.

Sedaris, David. "The Man in the Hut." The New Yorker 4 June 2007: 48, 53-55.

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