Holidays on Ice
By David Sedaris
Back Bay Books/$8.95
This collection of six sharp stories is alive with observational, sardonic humor. It's no mistake that these stories — three old, three new, all with a holiday theme — are among David Sedaris' best. The Christmas season, with all its cheapness and expectation, is a perfect target for his incisive wit.
Listeners of National Public Radio may recognize the first essay, "Santaland Diaries," with which Sedaris made his comic debut on NPR's Morning Edition. The story is the program's single most requested encore. It's a recounting of his strange-but-true experiences of being a Macy's elf, in which we learn the confusing management ploys at play and the demoralizing art of being one of Santa's helpers.
"Seasons Greetings to Our Friends and Family!!!" is a Christmas letter by a mother whose family has taken in an illegitimate Vietnamese half-daughter. The hilarity spills out of Sedaris' ability to imagine and convey this woman's gross insensitivity.
"Christmas Means Giving" is a hilarious mock-confessional by a decadent yuppie who gives up one-upping his neighbors with useless purchases for the newfound satisfaction of out-donating them. "Generosity," he discovers, "can actually make people feel quite uncomfortable if you talk about it enough." And he does so with delight.
"Front Row Center with Thaddeus Bristol" is an unforgiving review of children's Christmas theater production by a critic who justifies himself by saying, "I will, no doubt, be taken to task for criticizing the work of children but, as any pathologist will agree, if there's a cancer it's best to treat it as early as possible."
The difficulty in quoting single lines by Sedaris lies in the fact that his humor is wrought not so much by punch lines but by premise. Each story's hilarity unfolds and deepens with every page, creating a work that draws you in.
The book's title suggests that it's something of a drinking man's companion, but you might easily become engrossed after a few pages and forget your drink, only to look up at the book's end to find your ice cubes melted.
—Cooper Cruz
This article appears in Dec 20-26, 2002.