David Sedaris's latest collection, The Land and Its People, showcases his trademark blend of crankiness and charm, though some essays feel thinner than his earlier work. The volume includes 28 short pieces drawn from everyday experiences with his husband Hugh, his siblings, and friends, as well as encounters during his relentless touring schedule. Sedaris, who has sold over 16 million books, continues to mine his life for material, with mixed results.
Uneven but Entertaining
While some essays rely on shtick—such as his irritation at people putting feet on furniture—others demonstrate Sedaris's sharp observational humor. In “The Hem of His Garment,” he praises people “who aren’t in show business but dazzle nevertheless,” citing the late Texas governor Ann Richards. This random yet apt reference elicited genuine laughter. Similarly, his account of a “No Kings” protest against Donald Trump in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, where he notes the aesthetic similarities between protestors and Tea Party kooks, is both amusing and pointed.
Grumpy-Old-Man Trope
Sedaris occasionally leans too heavily into curmudgeonliness, with jokes about saying “mothering person” instead of “motherfucker” or questioning if “swarthy” is still allowed. These moments feel beneath a writer of his standing. At 69, Sedaris lives in New York and Europe and travels constantly, making such “kids today” riffs seem off-key.
Strongest Sections: Family and Friends
The collection's strongest essays focus on people close to Sedaris. In “Cool Mom,” a cascade of memories is triggered by a woman in a “cool mom” T-shirt, leading to a poignant reflection on his own mother. He writes: “Whatever our mother was to us, it’s too complex and momentous to ever fit onto a sweatshirt. A person would need a whole mountain, and then some.” This piece echoes his earlier work, such as “Ashes” from Naked, which beautifully recounts his mother's death.
Other highlights include an essay about his oldest friend Dawn, who “dresses like a Swiss person” and “smells like a cardboard box,” and a piece on the death of a childhood friend, Dan Thompson, which ends: “I am 67. This is my life, but different now, diminished, because Dan Thompson, who was there at the start of it and who made it so very worthwhile, has died.”
Poignant Glimpses
In “A Long Way Home,” Sedaris and Hugh give a stranger a lift from Maine to New York after a flight cancellation. The account of the seven-hour drive with Susan Du is unexpectedly moving: “Hugh and I, 10 blocks now from our own apartment, waited with the engine running until she was safely through her building’s front door and well on her way to the elevator.” Such moments capture the strange poignancy of glancing encounters.
Despite occasional unevenness, Sedaris's ability to blend humor with genuine emotion remains intact. The Land and Its People is published by Abacus (£20).
