When You Are Engulfed in Flames

Last week, I went to the library to pick up a copy of this book. While I like David Sedaris, I just didn't feel all that compelled to own this book, partly because I had already read a number of the essays in The New Yorker. On the way, I ran into a colleague who asked me where I was going. When I told her, she seemed amazed at the very concept of the library.

At first, I thought she was amazed that as an employee she could use our university's library, but it might be more than that. Later, when I walked her through how to use the online catalog, she asked such questions as:

"If it says here that the book is not checked out, does that mean I can just go and pick it up?" Yes

"Do I need to write down this number?" Yes, you need that to find the book.

"Are the books just listed alphabetically?" No, you need that number.

Considering she was getting a Graham Greene novel, she is definitely the most well-read person I've ever met not familiar with how to use a library.

This is, of course, a tangent, which is fitting because Sedaris' book is one long series of tangents. That's sort of the point with him. With a lesser writer, you'd wonder why the hell he's writing an entire essay about the guy who sat next to him on an airplane, but with Sedaris you don't really mind.

"When You are Engulfed in Flames" is as funny, odd, and interesting as any of his other books, although I have to admit that I'm a bit worried about what will happen when he runs out of crazy stories from his family.