Welcome to the hilarious, strange, elegiac, outrageous globe of David Sedaris. In Nude, Sedaris turns the existing mania for the memoir on its proverbial ear, mining the exceedingly wealthy terrain of his lifestyle, his family, and his exclusive worldview, a sensibility simultaneously take-no-prisoners razor-sharp and deeply charitable. A tart-tongued mom does dead-on imitations of her youthful son’s anxious tics, to the fantastic enjoyment of his teachers; a stint of Kerouackian wandering is undertaken (obviously!) having a quadriplegic friend. Through everything is normally Sedaris’s unmistakable voice, certainly among the freshest in American composing.