There was a time when I looked forward to watching Jon Stewart every night; his brilliant political satire did more for illuminating the absurdities of the Bush administration than the CBS Nightly News ever could. Although I was cautiously optimistic about the first election of Barack Obama, Stewart's enthusiasm was contagious, I felt reassured, and I looked forward to the day that Stewart would start to lampoon him, too. But it never happened. True, the first term was more about fulfilling promises than outright gaffes, people had elected Obama to have him sort out the healthcare business after all, and even the dovish left was able to get behind the taking out of Bin Laden, but I was surprised that Jon Stewart seemed to never make Obama the butt of his jokes. In the run-up to the re-election campaign, however, things just turned nasty. Watching from Canada, where politics can be as partisan as it is anywhere, it was disconcerting to watch how apocalyptic the campaign became: Each side braying that America will implode if the other side wins. Jon Stewart went from cheerleader to actively campaigning for the Democrats, all the while denying the charges on Fox News that the "lamestream media" had given Obama a free ride. When Obama won again in 2012, Stewart came on triumphant the next evening, not to celebrate that his side had won, but rather to revel in the fact that the other side had lost. My funny bedtime show had become decidedly mean.
As I read Let's Explore Diabetes with Owls this week, Barack Obama finds his administration under fire. From today's newspaper: The crisis arises from the convergence of three separate scandals, each of which was serious enough in its own right. In one, new information has resurrected suspicions the White House deliberately misled Americans about a terrorist attack on the U.S. mission in Benghazi, Libya, last year, to avoid harming Mr. Obama’s re-election campaign. In the second, the federal tax office admitted targeting organizations critical of Obama for extra scrutiny in a co-ordinated campaign over an extended period. In the third, the Justice Department secretly seized phone records from the Associated Press so it could track reporters’ calls in hopes of tracking down leaks. I don't know how theses crises will resolve themselves, but it does seem to me that a government can only dig holes this big if they are enjoying a lack of scrutiny. So, it was in this environment that I read David Sedaris' new book, which coincidentally, bristles with anti-conservative vitriol. In at least one essay (I'm vaguely thinking it happened more than once...), he declines to engage in a conversation with someone, just in case they had voted for "the other side". And this from a man who doesn't live in the United States, preferring the French or English countryside, but exercises his right to shape its future through absentee ballots. In the Author's Note at the beginning, Sedaris says that he has included some short pieces appropriate for high school "Forensics" competitions, since many teenagers over the years have told him that they have enjoyed editing his essays down to the appropriate length. Each of these monologues is a head-scratcher to me: They sound like mean and unfair anticonservative caricatures, using violence and bad language to portray anyone with traditional values as a hair-trigger nutjob. I can't imagine encouraging one of my own teenagers to recite one of these in front of a panel of judges.
So, when David Sedaris isn't inserting his mean brand of politics, these essays can be as funny and insightful as his earlier works, all of which I have bought and enjoyed ( if we don't count Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk -- what was that exactly?). Although he may be a little unrelatable when writing about the stress of flying to Australia or eating in China or having his laptop stolen in Hawaii, when he talks about his family, he could be talking about anyone's family, and the humour is familiar and warm. Hey! My Dad used to take off his clothes after work too and eat dinner in just his boxer shorts! Hey! My Dad used to hit us too just not with a paddle! Ah, childhood:
I don't know how these couples do it, spend hours each night tucking their kids in, reading them books about misguided kittens or seals who wear uniforms, and then rereading them if the child so orders. In my house, our parents put us to bed with two simple words: "Shut up." That was always the last thing we heard before our lights were turned off. Our artwork didn't hang on the refrigerator or anywhere near it, because our parents recognized it for what it was: crap. They did not live in a child's house, we lived in theirs.A couple of nice lines:
Speaking to a telemarketer: The man spoke with an accent, and though I couldn't exactly place it, I knew that he was poor. His voice had snakes in it. And dysentery, and mangoes.
On travelling to Australia: For an American, though, Australia seems pretty familiar: same wide streets, same office towers. It's Canada in a thong, or that's the initial impression.The essays that involve David Sedaris' partner Hugh or his sisters or his diary-keeping or his colonoscopy (!) are genuinely funny, often ending on a poignant note, and for them, at least, this is a worthwhile read. Like with Jon Stewart, though, I'm left wondering if I need to re-evaluate my relationship with an increasingly bitter middle aged man-- mean-spirited partisan politics isn't what I'm looking for when I dish out my money and ask to be entertained.
