Friday, November 2, 2007

Comfort and Cigarettes (Tasteless, By David Sedaris)

In Tasteless, Sedaris opens up with an optimistic line about quitting smoking:

“Taste buds paved beneath decades of tar will spring back to life, and an entire sense will be restored.”

I really like this line, it sounds like a rebirth over a habit that causes mental and physical damages. After this line though, Sedaris takes a 180 and says that he has not notice any significant change. Not so optimistic.

Sedaris, for the rest of the piece, goes on about how he really doesn’t care much about food. He doesn’t care about the names of food, he writes about thinking fried chicken was fried fish and associates, and he associates food with color. It is weird though that even though he does not care for food that much; he spends a lot of time with it. My theory on this is that he is trying to say, through his writing, that he is using food as a comfort food or a void to just pass time with.

Sedaris introduces himself as a shoveling eater or a prisoner. He will eat until he becomes sick and even offered money “convict-like” during his childhood dinners. For someone who recalls food with colors, this seems a bit much if not crazy. The anxiety or the fear he gets of going without food might be an explanation of why he treats food in such a manner.

Sedaris also goes on about how his childhood revolved around food. He even says:

“All I knew about being young had canned parmesan cheese on it.”

Kind of funny but a bit sad. He doesn’t care about food, but he doesn’t stop cooking and eating while other kids are doing drugs and sex. This whole piece actually reminds me of a South Park Quote that was used in the Fat Camp episode:

“Cartman: Hey Chad, do you know what you need? You need a friend.Chad I do?Cartman: Yes a chocolate friend. Mr. Candybar doesn't judge you Chad, Mr. Candybar likes you just the way you are. Look how yummy and sweet he is.”

I think when Sedaris was young he would use food in a way to pass time in his life and not feel so bad about not doing anything else. It was a great piece.

1 comment:

Kristian said...

I like that line, too, Mike. He has heard this from people who have quit smoking. It's the light at the end of a tunnel. Something positive to think about when you quit. Something to look forward to. Being an ex-smoker, I can relate. You have your senses. Yeah, you can taste and you can smell when you smoke, but when you quit (after months, years) your senses do return or become rather sensitive. I notice my sense of smell, being much more sensitive (especially to cigarette smoke).

This essay is about our (the reader, along with the narrator's) obsession with food. As a young person, you eat what your parents give you. It isn't about taste, until you get older and you find out what you like and dislike. And if you are in a family of more than two, you have to fight for your food. So this is why he eats quickly.

I love that he associates food with color. This could be a comment on the 50's/60's type of cooking. If you look at cook books from the 50's, the food looks fake. The colors are bright. Most colors in 50's cook books don't even exist. They're technicolor creations. Green salads look radioactive. I may be wrong, but I believe Sedaris is writing about these cook books and the family recreating these recipes. (Fun Side note: His sister Amy Sedaris put out a book (a parody on the 50's entertaining/cookbook) titled 'I Like You : Hospitality Under The Influence').

And you're right, there is something quite sad about this fascination/obsession with food. Sedaris, like many Americans, use food as a way to escape. Like Cartman, a candy bar is a friend; it makes you feel better. For Sedaris, cooking and eating became an outlet, or a release.