Books › Don't Get Too Comfortable

Don't Get Too Comfortable
The Indignities of Coach Class, The Torments of Low Thread Count, The Never- Ending Quest for Artisanal Olive Oil, and Other First World Problems
240 pages
A bitingly funny, Wildean grand tour through the absurdities of American overconsumption and the special circle of gilded-age hell we've built for ourselves.
What it feels like
Reading this collection feels like taking a bitingly funny grand tour of contemporary America's culture of excess alongside a mercilessly witty guide. The pace is brisk and engaging, bouncing from the supersonic elegance of the Concorde to the populism of Hooters Air, all while maintaining an atmosphere of hilarious horror. It immerses the reader in an absurd, gilded-age mood where manic getting and spending are skewered with Wildean precision. Beneath the cynical observations of obliterating narcissism and vapidity lies a genuine, insightful plea for human decency. This is the perfect read for anyone who delights in sharp, LGBTQ-authored autobiographical essays that mercilessly dissect the indignities of social status and the ridiculousness of modern consumer behavior.
- Mood
- hilariously horrified
- absurd
- cynical
- gilded
- Tone
- satirical
- biting
- witty
- merciless
- insightful
- Pace
- brisk
- Themes
- culture of excess · obliterating narcissism · vapidity and vanity · the quest for status · plea for human decency
- The writing
- Bitingly funny and mercilessly witty, reading like a Wildean satire of contemporary American life.
- The arc
- Moves from amused observation of ridiculous overconsumption to a hilariously horrified plea for basic human decency.
- Who it's for
- Readers who love sharp, insightful cultural critiques and laugh-out-loud essays that skewer the absurdities of modern consumerism.
Content notes
- class disparity
- excessive consumerism
About the book
David Rakoff’s bestselling collection of autobiographical essays, Fraud, established him as one of today’s funniest and most insightful writers. Now, in Don’t Get Too Comfortable, Rakoff moves from the personal to the public, journeying into the land of unchecked plenty that is contemporary America. Rarely have greed, vanity, selfishness, and vapidity been so mercilessly and wittily skewered.
Somewhere along the line, our healthy self-regard has exploded into obliterating narcissism; our manic getting and spending have now become celebrated as moral virtues. Whether contrasting the elegance of one of the last flights of the supersonic Concorde with the good-times-and-chicken-wings populism of Hooters Air, working as a cabana boy at a South Beach hotel, or traveling to a private island off the coast of Belize to watch a soft-core video shoot—where he is provided with his very own personal manservant—Rakoff takes us on a bitingly funny grand tour of our culture of excess. He comes away from his explorations hilariously horrified.
At once a Wildean satire of our ridiculous culture of overconsumption and a plea for a little human decency, Don’t Get Too Comfortable shows that far from being bobos in paradise, we’re in a special circle of gilded-age hell.
Description from Open Library.
Books like Don't Get Too Comfortable
See why they match
When You Are Engulfed in FlamesDavid SedarisA masterclass in turning everyday mortifications and neurotic spirals into sharp, surprisingly tender comedy.
Let's Explore Diabetes with OwlsDavid SedarisA globe-trotting masterclass in finding the hilarious, grotesque, and surprisingly tender details hidden in everyday life.
I was told there'd be cakeSloane CrosleyA wry and hilarious celebration of well-intentioned haplessness in the modern city.
Consider the lobster, and other essaysDavid Foster WallaceA dizzying, hyper-articulate plunge into the absurdities and moral anxieties of modern American life.
But What If We're Wrong?Chuck KlostermanA playful, mind-bending thought experiment that dismantles everything you think you know about the present by viewing it from the distant future.
Wow, No Thank You.Samantha IrbyA laugh-out-loud, unapologetic ode to the exhaustion of getting older, leaving the house, and having a human body.