TheWordWire.com: Joie de Vivre: David Sedaris Is Cleaning His Oven

Joie de Vivre: David Sedaris Is Cleaning His Oven

Well, it's Bastille Day, so you know what that means: David Sedaris is probably at home cleaning his oven. Talk about Joie de vivre! (Joy of living)

Photo: Irene
From the essay "Jesus Shaves" in
Me Talk Pretty One Day

"And what does one do on the fourteenth of July? Does one celebrate Bastille Day?"

It was my second month of French class, and the teacher was leading us in an exercise designed to promote the use of one, our latest personal pronoun.

"Might one sing on Bastille Day?" she asked. "Might one dance in the streets? Somebody give me an answer."

Printed in our textbooks was a list of major holidays accompanied by a scattered arrangement of photographs depicting French people in the act of celebration. The object of the lesson was to match the holiday with the corresponding picture. It was simple enough but seemed an exercise better suited to the use of the pronoun they. I didn't know about the rest of the class but when Bastille Day eventually rolled around, I planned to stay home and clean my oven.

I've had the pleasure of visiting Paris once so far in my life, and it happened to be on Bastille Day. Silly American girl — I knew nothing of French Independence Day at the time, so the holiday crowd on the lawn of the Eiffel Tower was a surprise. A bigger surprise was that some of the revelers were throwing firecrackers at the American tourists.

I think Independence of any kind is a fine thing to celebrate. But if I were in Paris right now, I'd really rather just hang out with Sedaris. I'd bring him some fresh baked croissants so he wouldn't have to mess up his oven. And a couple bottles of wine, because I suspect he's even funnier sauced up.

Happy Independence Day, France. And happy oven cleaning, David Sedaris.

For those who have not been introduced to the work of David Sedaris, I'll repost this from an earlier TheWordWire entry, Lunacy of Language.

Sedaris has published seven books of stories and essays, and the whole collection is a must-read for anyone willing to subject themselves to helpless laughter. My introduction to his work was the book Naked, which I picked up on the recommendation of a friend. She'd mentioned Sedaris a couple of times, but the name never made it to the top of my mental list whenever I was browsing the bookstore stacks. One day, standing in her living room, I announced that I was headed to the library. She took the opportunity to remind me:

"Would you please get Naked and...."

She trailed off while trying to think of another title. Of course,without the benefit of punctuation in this conversation, I was as confused as the students in "Jesus Shaves." I stood there nonplussed.

"Get naked and what? Do the dishes?... Dance a jig?"

Once we started speaking the same language, I did indeed pick up copies of Naked and Me Talk Pretty One Day. It was a good call, and I've been a devoted fan ever since. So I'm going to make the same recommendation to you, online friends. Would you please get
Naked and [subtlety alert!] follow this blog.