David Sedaris and Ian Falconer Present the Darkly Humorous Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk

When I discovered in September that David Sedaris, one of my favorite authors introduced to me by a college class, had come out with a new book, I was excited. And being the squirrel enthusiast that I am, I loved the title - Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk: A Modest Bestiary - and the cover illustration. But I didn’t rush out and get it for myself. Instead, I bought a copy for my brother for Christmas, since he likes Sedaris as much as I do.

And then on Christmas morning, I realized that he’d had the same idea, which is especially nifty considering that Sedaris dedicated the book to one of his sisters. “For Erin, Christmas 2010,” reads Nathan’s stylish inscription. “Being a lass who loves squirrels, chipmunks and a good read, I hope this book helps you to ‘be of good cheer’!” We promptly had Dad take the obligatory photo of the two of us holding our identical books, and then we were free to peruse them at our pleasure.

Sedaris, a humorist widely known among National Public Radio enthusiasts, generally writes memoir-type essays, many of which are howlingly funny. At times, they’re also quite moving. In his stories, he introduces some pretty shady characters, but there’s always his comforting narrative presence to fall back on. He comes across as a man with a sharp wit but often a timid manner, especially in his younger years, and despite a twisted sense of humor, he seems like a fundamentally decent guy.

Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk is something of a departure for him. It’s a book of adult fables in which each story focuses on a different animal, or most often a pair of animals. Some of the stories have more characters, but many only have two of any consequence, and there are lots of conversations between incompatible creatures as a result. Ian Falconer, creator of the children’s book series about Olivia the pig, furnishes illustrations, usually one or two per story, but make no mistake: these are not meant for children.

There’s profanity aplenty, along with some rather lewd language. More than that, these stories are violent, with at least one character winding up dead in almost every single story. I guess Sedaris aims to demonstrate that life is brutal, and Falconer illustrates that well. His drawings are limited to a color scale of blacks, whites and reds, and the red is often used to indicate blood. The most grotesque illustrations in the book are found in two back-to-back stories, The Crow and the Lamb and The Sick Rat and the Healthy Rat.

With just one exception, all of the story titles are pairs of animals like the above or a single animal, as in The Motherless Bear, a cautionary tale about trying to milk your own misery for too long, and The Faithful Setter, about the trials of marriage and the rewards of fidelity. The main character in the former is one of the most annoying in the book, while the protagonist in the latter is one of the most likable. It’s one of only two stories written in the first-person, and in both, I felt a sense of connection with Sedaris himself missing in the other chapters. The rest seem pretty detached, but these two feel personal, and the narratorial voice is not far removed from Sedaris’s own.

While the setter story has to do with weathering a rocky marriage, The Grieving Owl, the last and longest story in the book, is about a widower who seems to have enjoyed quite a happy, albeit brief, marriage. The speaker is a gentle soul who doesn’t seem suited for the predatory life he’s been born into. He feels sorry for the prey he catches, and in the wake of his wife’s death, he tries to fill the void in his life by giving his victims a chance to teach him something fascinating about the world in exchange for their freedom. A clever and compassionate soul living amongst his uncouth and uncultured family members, he dares to live life on his own terms until zest for life wears down the edges of his loneliness. It ends the book on a refreshingly positive note.

Most of the stories aren’t so optimistic. Characters get shot and injected with viruses. They have their necks wrung and their teeth bashed in. They get swallowed whole and have their eyes pecked out. Pretty grim stuff. Just about every kind of misfortune that could befall a creature is depicted or referenced. What’s more, most of the characters aren’t very nice. They badmouth each other in vivid language and play very nasty tricks on each other. There are several stories in which there is nothing appealing about the main character or characters. There usually is some little lesson one can take away from the tale, but the overriding theme seems to be, “Boy, is life depressing!” Then again, maybe he hopes that by using animals to illustrate inhumane behavior, we people might be a little more inclined to act humane.

Along with the two first-person stories, my favorite tale is The Squirrel and the Chipmunk, from which the cover illustration is drawn. One of the most serene pictures in the book, it shows the male squirrel and the female chipmunk holding hands from opposite sides of a tiny, candlelit table. Each has a half-full glass of wine and starry eyes. In the story, the two have fallen in love, despite the objections of friends and neighbors. They are certain that their love transcends such superficialities. But the chipmunk realizes that all of the negativity has stirred up doubts after the squirrel mentions his love for jazz. Never having heard of such a thing before, she panics and begins to imagine all the horrible things it could be. It becomes her excuse for breaking things off with someone she adores. There’s nothing morbid about this story, but it certainly is a bittersweet tale about prejudices, reservations and regrets in the realm of romance.

If you’ve never read David Sedaris before, I’m not sure Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk is the place to start. I’d first recommend one of his essay collections, particularly Naked - the book that introduced me to his work in a Creative Nonfiction class - or Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim. I found I really missed his temperate narrative presence here. Additionally, while most of his books contain a liberal mix of the beautiful and the ghastly, most of the stories here are ultimately pretty gloomy. Nonetheless, there’s wisdom to be found in these pages, and if you like dark humor, then I would certainly give it a whirl. I waited until Squirrel Appreciation Day to post my review, but mostly, this is a book that makes me appreciate being human.

Olivia Prepares for Christmas

Working in a bookstore, I've seen several books in the children's section featuring a whimsical pig named Olivia, but I never read of the stories in Ian Falconer's series until I came across the latest, Olivia Helps With Christmas, in my ever-earlier pre-Christmas picture book perusal.

Although I have read many tales with porcine protagonists, the fictional character of whom Olivia immediately reminded me was Ramona, irrepressible young (human) star of several Beverly Cleary books. Olivia is a mischievous little piggy who wants to be helpful but doesn't always manage so well, especially as her creative outlook on life sometimes causes her to make simple tasks more complicated.

Her primary preoccupation here is preparing for Christmas, along with her younger brothers Ian and William, who share in her anticipation, particularly Ian. William is a bit young to understand what's going on, but that doesn't prevent him from getting caught up in the excitement.

The prose style is simple, with the charcoal and gouache illustrations doing most of the talking. While most of each page is black and white, certain elements are colorful, such as the green Christmas tree Olivia helps to decorate and the red and green clothing she and Ian wear. Additionally, scattered among the pages are views of the piglets gazing out a window, and the scene through the window is in a much different style than the rest of the illustration.

My favorite series of pictures depicts Olivia in a quandary familiar to anyone who's ever dealt with Christmas lights. In six small illustrations spread across two pages, she become more and more tangled until she finally leaves it to the experts, who probably aren't much more adept than her, as Christmas lights are inherently frustrating. Another entertaining illustration shows her on Christmas morning reacting differently to each of her gifts.

Olivia Helps With Christmas is a fun little book about a child's experience of Christmas and the days leading up to it. Falconer dedicated it to the memory of his father, and it's the sort of story parents and children can enjoy together, laughing at Olivia's antics and enjoying the feeling of togetherness the book espouses. Nothing terribly profound here, just sweet simplicity and silliness. But that's enough to make this one worth the time to read it.