Here's the thing: I'm discovering that if I try to read this book "as a book", that is, from cover to cover, it's like drinking too much of the delicious red stuff. It goes to the head and leaves me with a lingering hangover. What's frothy and funny and enlightening and sad can easily become heavy and depressing. So if you're curious and have not yet come across Lydia Davis, my advice is: read her. She's terrific. But do it in small doses. Keep the book by the bedside and check in once in a while, read a couple of her (often very short) short stories, and you'll smile. Read too many and you might need a double dose of aspirin.
(And by the way, thanks to Jean at Tasting Rhubarb for the recommendation...)