“What if I got a crown for doing nothing but being who I am,”
Jenny Slate is a comedic treasure, and Little Weirds proves to be a reflection of her being. Through poetic similes and magical weirdness, Slate’s personality shines through, and I’m here for it.
I read critiques of the book that stated it is, ironically, “too weird,” as if Slate didn’t try to tell her reader from the outset. This is not your average memoir. Little Weirds is not a book that can be read just once. It is a piece of art meant for exploration – to take the details in your hands, spin them, look up close, peek into the crevices, then set them on a shelf and stand far away like a Magic Eye poster.
Slate takes the ordinary and makes it a fairy tale, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to leave you feeling happily ever after.
“My heart can feel like an elephant who is feeling dread and has an exceptional memory and naturally possesses something valuable that might be hunted, poached, wasted.”
If that isn’t the most accurate description of depression, I don’t know what is. I have experienced a few bouts of depression, and the worst part has been the reminder of how good I can feel. When I am feeling depressed, it is easy for me to wonder if I will ever feel good again. My treasured memories of good health and happiness are also an irritant for my heart, further exacerbating my melancholy.
Jenny Slate, you deserve a crown. We all deserve crowns. Let’s all wear crowns and celebrate this weird life together.