David Sedaris 

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Brighton Dome, September 12

During an evening of otherwise bleakly funny stories culled from his own life, David Sedaris waxed euphoric over the sublime appeal of West Sussex.

Asked by a member of the audience at the Brighton Dome why he had made his home in Rackham, the New Yorker writer said he had been immediately gripped by the beauty of the South Downs when visiting friends.

Years later and he has not changed his mind, saying that he still finds the views from his picture-book house stunning.

“My heart stops,” he said. “And there’s nothing going to kill me. I can see a hedgehog whenever I want to.”

The wider world is a darker place. People grow old and are shamed by their malfunctioning bodies. Family members embarrass themselves and their relations.

Strangers are rude, nosy, or simply aggressive. Sly humour is the only thing keeping Sedaris from despair. He has been likened to Alan Bennett but is at pains to disavow the comparison.

Sedaris is a wonderful writer but it was odd to note that what comes over as feline humour on the page can sound merely catty read aloud in a packed auditorium. The audience, it must be said, lapped it up.

John Keenan