This week we have still more evidence that I am not smart enough for the magazine The Believer, or for the people who write it. Recently in my library catalog I came across this title: You're a Horrible Person, But I Like You, which of course I had to request immediately. The problem was the subtitle: "The Believer Book of Advice."
The entire book is a collection of humorists' pieces giving advice, but every chapter is written in the format of advice letters written to the contributors, which they then answer. Let me give you an example, from the chapter written by Paul Feig*:
"Dear Paul: For years I have tried to make my Hungarian grandmother's cucumber salad. She improvises her recipe, so she wrote down the steps for me to follow. But try as I might, mine never tastes as good as hers. What am I doing wrong? --Linda Nagy, Fort Wayne, IN.
Dear Lisa: You're trying to crash your grandmother's party, that's what you're doing. Did you ever stop and think that maybe your grandmother isn't giving you the exact recipe because she wants your salad to be worse than hers? What's next? You going to try on her clothes? Steal her boyfriend? Pretend you're from Hungary, too? My advice is to let your grandmother be the master of her cucumber recipe. Tell her she's the only one who can make it, then take a bowl of it to a lab and have it analyzed. Then you can make the exact recipe in the privacy of your home and she'll still believe she's the queen of cucumbers. --Paul." (p. 67.)
Now, taken alone, I guess that's kind of funny. But a whole book of chapters like that? It's too much. Even with contributors like Feig, Aasif Mandvi, Amy Sedaris, Sarah Silverman, and Sarah Vowell, I just couldn't sustain the interest. Plus, I'm just too literal to enjoy things like this. Did they write the letters themselves? Or did they actually come from somewhere?
*I love, love, LOVE Paul Feig, author of the memoirs Kick Me and Superstud.
Hmmm, maybe this is like those John Hodgman books which are best enjoyed by picking up and reading a bit or two at a time? Or maybe it is just too smug for its own good?
Posted by: Tripp | 19 May 2010 at 09:49 AM
I vote for too smug for its own good.*
This reminds me of all the books of humor with the McSweeney's peoples (same bunch, I know). Stumbling across one brief piece in the middle of, say, an issue of the New Yorker or the Atlantic might garner an amused snort, but more than two like that in a row would be worse than a root canal.
I developed this really cynical theory a few years ago, that even the McSweeney's people don't like this stuff in more than moderate quantities. They just keep putting it out to see if the rest of us will buy it so we seem hip.
*Ok, I'd probably keep something like this on my virtual bathroom bookshelf. Lounge in the tub, read a paragraph, etc. I have some of the other McSweeney's humorous essays, and the truth is that they're collecting dust in my bedroom.
Posted by: Rachael | 19 May 2010 at 10:10 AM
Smug is one of my least favorite attributes in books (people too, I suppose). Yuck. I always pick up those McSweeney books but just never think they're all that funny, even though I LOVE humor books. They just leave me - eh. Smug.
Posted by: Laura | 19 May 2010 at 11:44 AM
"Virtual bathroom bookshelf" - I love that!
Posted by: Ruthiella | 19 May 2010 at 12:00 PM
Tripp,
I'll admit it: the John Hodgman books never did much for me either, although Mr. CR liked them tolerably well. Although I tend to have a lot of books on the go at any one time, I'm not much of a "dipper" into the same book at different times. I typically want to love a book and consume it in its entirety; if I need something to read in little bits I'd rather turn to magazines or the Internet (which is where I think the McSweeney's stuff really works better, rather than in book form).
Rachael,
I don't even think they're smug. I think they're just...um...weirdly a huge part of popular culture, and yet completely above it all. Or maybe that is smug, I don't know.
I do LOVE your theory about McSweeney's and its hipster value. My theory about McSweeney's is that their stuff sells primarily to fangirls like me who can't let their college crushes on Dave Eggers go, or to boys who are hoping to come off as Dave Eggers-esque to potential literary girlfriends.
Like Ruthiella, I also enjoyed "virtual bathroom bookshelf." Much more appetizing (if less tangible) than "the book that's sitting on the back of my toilet this week."
Laura,
What's your pick for good humor books these days? I've been massively disappointed by most of the recent ones I've picked up.
Posted by: Citizen Reader | 19 May 2010 at 12:36 PM
see, now that sounds hilarious. although i have to say that as soon as i read the john hodgman comparison from tripp, i instantly understood. i find john hodgman hilarious, in bits. like monty python. its cool to own the megaset (like i do), but not to read it all at once. they are skits for a reason. i shall still order this for the library, as it sounds very funny. even if its in bits.
Posted by: Beth | 19 May 2010 at 12:51 PM
Beth,
There's no doubt that parts of it are very funny indeed--my other favorite tidbit was Amy Sedaris suggesting that the fastest way to a man's heart is not through his stomach, but is rather cutting directly through his chest cavity.
Posted by: Citizen Reader | 19 May 2010 at 05:35 PM
I think McSweeney's humor is best taken in big swigs off their website, preferably while you're at work stuck at a computer terminal with nothing particularly urgent or interesting to do ... but I go months between swigs and I can't say I miss it in the between times.
Posted by: nan | 19 May 2010 at 07:51 PM
I really enjoy Jen Lancaster's memoirs - very light and definitely funny in many parts. It's odd, because I don't think I'd like her at all in person, but I really enjoy her writing voice.
I'm also a big fan of Laurie Notaro's stuff, though it's a bit hit or miss. There for a while, every other one was really good. She's got a new one out but it's fiction - Spooky Little Girl - which has gotten some good reviews on amazon.
My favorite though - and one of the writers who really got me into humorous essays - is Merrill Markoe, who used to be one of the writers for David Letterman. _What the Dogs Have Taught Me_ and _How to Be Hap Hap Happy Like Me_ are still some of my go to books for humor, even though I've read 'em ragged at this point.
I'm also a big Dan Savage fan - I like his columns really well but I also like his longer works, especially Skipping Towards Gomorrah (it didn't hurt that he made fun of Dubuque for quite a few pages!).
Although it's fiction and not essays, I like Connie Willis's funny fiction, especially Bettwether and To Say Nothing of the Dog - hilarious.
As one offs I really liked Carrie Fisher's _Wishful Drinking_, Paula Poundstone's _There's Nothing in this Book I Meant to Say_, and W. Hodding Carter's _Westward Whoa_.
Probably more than you wanted to know - but I love humor writing!
Posted by: Laura | 19 May 2010 at 10:47 PM
Nan, I used to fantasize about being published on the McSweeney's website. Yeah, I had a major crush on Dave Eggers (duh), and that may have had something to do with it. Their website is funny, but I agree about not missing it between occasional visits.
Posted by: Rachael | 20 May 2010 at 09:20 AM
Nan, Rachael,
I agree with everything you're saying about McSweeney's (the web site). I typically look at it twice a year, and read it until I find something hilarious, and then I stop. (R: I used to dream about publishing something there too, and then Dave himself would notice my writing, and, well, magic would happen. Sigh. Youth.)
Laura,
Thanks, that'll get me started! I must say I've never really gotten the appeal of Laurie Notaro but it's been ages since I read a Jen Lancaster and I really want to try Merrill Markoe. LOVED Carrie Fisher's "Wishful Drinking," great choice, but then, I just love Carrie Fisher.
Have you read any of Jancee Dunn's memoirs? She's kind of funny in a nice low-key way.
Posted by: Citizen Reader | 20 May 2010 at 11:43 AM