In Mental, stand-up comedian Eddie Sarfaty cracks wise about everything from a cheapskate ex-boyfriend to a one-night stand involving balloon animals—in a collection of autobiographical essays that's received two thumbs way-up from celebrated authors including Michael Cunningham, Edmund White and Christopher Bram. After paying his dues performing stand-up in Provincetown, the New York City comedy circuit, on Atlantis Cruises and in countless other comedy festivals ( including performances featured on Comedy Central and Logo ) , Sarfaty has released his first book Mental: Funny in the Head ( Kensington ) . Windy City Times took a peek inside Sarfaty's funny head and this is what he had to say.
Windy City Times: What in the world is a "chucklefucker?"
Eddie Sarfaty: "Chucklefucker" was coined by my friend, comedian Mark Davis, to describe the guys that come to your show and—because you make them laugh—feel connected to you and want to get into your pants. They might have a skewed picture of me, but at least it's far better than having a guy come to the show because he thinks I'm attractive but then leave the club thinking, "I can't have sex with this guy. His act stinks!"
WCT: Mental pokes fun at family members, ex-boyfriends, the gay community, etc. Do your friends and colleagues constantly worry that they will end up in your act or in your writing?
ES: I think first and foremost, I poke fun at myself. In Mental I'm mental! In the book I obsess about food, soothe rejection by sport-fucking, play victim to an abusive pet, amuse myself with suicidal fantasies and end up in a Portuguese psych ward.
Yes, I do mock out my friends, my parents, my boyfriends, etc. in the book—and on stage—but luckily I only befriend, date, and have Thanksgiving diner with people who have a sense of humor. Plus I do try to show the other sides of those people as well. My mother comes off as extremely difficult for most of "My Tale of Two Cities," the piece about my trip to Europe with my parents, but there are wonderfully tender moments in that story that make your heart break for her. In "Supporting Characters" my ex, Jeffrey's overactive libido makes managing an ill-fated production of Phantom of the Opera even more hellish, but in the end he gallantly comes to my rescue. And even Wendell Briar, the pretentious Upper East Side alcoholic in "The Eton Club" utters a few lines that make you appreciate why he is the way he is.
WCT: I heard comedian Bob Smith actually nudged you in the direction of becoming an author. Did you have any reservations about putting pen to paper?
ES: I had huge reservations! Huge! Aside from stand-up material, I hadn't written anything longer than a grocery list since college. I have the attention span of a Yorkshire terrier and the idea that I would actually sit down and focus long enough to write a few hundred pages seemed impossible to me. My friend, comedian Bob Smith, was asked by an editor to submit an anecdote for a collection he was putting together. Bob suggested that he also approach me to write something. I really didn't want to be bothered, but Bob kept hounding me until finally I sat down and grudgingly wrote "Second-guessing Grandma." The story struck a chord with a lot of people and was not only included in the collection, When I Knew, but was made into a short film starring Tony-nominee Kathleen Chalfant. My self-esteem is not always where it should be, and if the story hadn't gotten such a positive response, I probably wouldn't have been brave enough to write more. Luckily, it did, and "Second-guessing Grandma" became the first story in Mental.
WCT: I'm not sure that every comedian would be able to translate their observations and humor into a collection of written essays—but you made it seem effortless.
ES: I never really thought that it might be hard for other comedians to write for the page until John Scognamiglio, the editor-in-chief at Kensington, called me to say how relieved he was when he read the proposal for Mental. Though he'd been a fan of my stand-up for quite some time and thought I was funny, he was afraid I wouldn't be able to "write funny." Since then I've become more aware of how unfunny some very funny people can be in print. Different comedians are funny in different ways— they have different strengths. Some have personas so engaging or wild that they can get huge laughs with B-level material, some are good writers with pleasant personalities that make the words work for them, and some are just so quirky and odd that they don't even need to open their mouths to keep an audience in stitches. I'm not funny looking, and I'm not an outrageous character, but I'm very good with words and am likeable and non-threatening on stage. I think that having to rely so heavily on my writing for my stand-up to work made writing Mental somewhat easier. In terms of making it seem effortless? Well, that's a comedian's job: to have the humor flow naturally despite the fact that every word is meticulously chosen—indeed, often agonized about—and the structure of each joke is reworked countless times. "Hiding the machinery" is, in fact, the art of comedy.
WCT: What is your typical response when a reader asks you: Are these stories really true? Did these events really happen?
ES: Yes, they're 100% true! Next question.
WCT: You have been compared to David Sedaris and Aug.en Burroughs, which is pretty heady stuff for an author publishing his very first book. How do you react when people draw comparisons to you and Sedaris and Burroughs?
ES: In over half of the reviews Mental has received since its release, the reviewers' have compared my writing to David Sedaris, Aug.en Burroughs, or both. I'm certainly flattered—I've enjoyed both of their books a great deal. None of the reviewers has really gone beyond that initial statement though; they never say why my writing is like ( or unlike ) Sedaris or Burroughs, so I'm not exactly sure what specifically about it they're referring to.
Anyway, I've tried not to compare my writing to anyone else's. As I said, this was my first attempt to write anything substantial since college and worrying whether it was as good as anyone else's ( let alone either of those two ) would have overwhelmed me to the point where I wouldn't have been able to even start. I had no expectations; I didn't care if it sold, or if it led to anything else. The only goal that I was able to articulate clearly, and not feel over-burdened by, was that "I just wanted it not to suck!" It was a smart move. My expectations have been exceeded and every favorable review, fan letter and encouraging sales report so far has been exciting.
WCT: How were you able to get authors Michael Cunningham and Michael Thomas Ford to blurb your book?
ES: I've done my stand-up act for the past eight or nine years in Provincetown and Michael Cunningham has a house there. We've chatted in the street. I sent him the book but never heard back from him and basically figured he was too busy to read it or that he didn't like it. I was going to give up but then figured I had nothing to lose and sent him a couple of little reminders hoping I wasn't crossing the line between assertiveness and being a pain in the ass.
I've never met Michael Thomas Ford. My editor sent him a copy of Mental without me knowing, and out of the blue I got a lovely e-mail from him telling me how much the book made him laugh.
WCT: What is the one topic or experience in your life that you would never spin into comedy gold, or that didn't make it into Mental?
ES: Anything can be funny—that's how I get through life. I don't have any idea how people make it through the day—let alone the seventy-something years that the census bureau says we can expect—without a sense of humor. I wrote about a lot of personal things in Mental and I'll probably write about other things as they come up. If there's something so horrible that it's completely resistant to humor, I hope I never know what it is.
WCT: What's up next for you? Are you working on another book or appearing in a new show?
ES: I'd like to get back into doing more stand-up and put together enough material over the next six to twelve months for a brand new show. Hopefully I'd have it ready to tour by next summer .My editor wants me to start on another book ( he actually wanted me to start months ago, but I am the world's worst procrastinator—my sloth knows no bounds ) . He'd like me to do another essay collection. I'm ok with that but I need to figure out what the theme would be. For Mental, I chose the ten stories from my life that interested me most to write about, so I don't want to do a follow up book of ten B-level stories. I also have an idea for a novel that's been haunting me for awhile. It's very dark, which of course, I love.
