Book Review: Little Weirds by Jenny Slate (2019)

November 26th, 2019 7:00 am by Kelly Garbato

This book is emotional murder.

four out of five stars

(Full disclosure: I received a free e-ARC for review through Edelweiss.)

I was born in the stacks in the Columbia University Library. I was born in shin-guards on a soccer field on a chilly little Saturday morning in the 1980s and I was too scared to even feel the sting of the ball on the inside of my shoe. I was born during tennis. I was born as a backyard swimming pool and my twin sister is an orange Popsicle and my mother is a bowl of pickles and my father is a hamburger.

(“I Was Born: The List”)

I think, Well, I am so sensitive and I am very fragile but so is everything else, and living with a dangerous amount of sensitivity is sort of what I have to do sometimes, and it is so very much better than living with no gusto at all. And I’d rather live with a tender heart, because that is the key to feeling the beat of all of the other hearts.

(“Kinship”)

There was a time before Patriarchy.

We have a better origin story and it is not widely spoken about but it is the truth.

(“The Code of Hammurabi”)

Y’all. I can’t even tell you how much I wanted to review Little Weirds using nothing but Mona-Lisa Saperstein gifs. Alas, Jenny Slate is nothing like Jean Ralphio’s sister from the same mister, and most of said gifs are totes wrong for this review. But I have to get them out of my system, so. Let’s just dive right in, shall we?

(Note to self: It’s about time for your annual Parks & Rec rewatch. Your emotions are in serious need of fortification.)

Prior to discovering Little Weirds on Edelweiss (at which point I legit let out a little squeal and did a happy happy butt dance on my office chair), my knowledge about actor/comedian Jenny Slate could be summed up thusly: 1) she portrayed Mona-Lisa Saperstein with brilliance and aplomb on one of my all-time favorite sitcoms, Parks & Recreation (for reals, I even dedicated a whole VeganMoFo to it!); 2) she dated everyone’s favorite Chris (Evans, duh!); she’s Jewish; and 4) she’s been at the receiving end of some really gross antisemitism, on account of nos 1-3, i.e., being a Jewish lady who played a Jewish lady and also dated literal Captain America while Jewish, and also because our country is a dumpster fire of white nationalism and toxic masculinity.

I started to type “But I digress…,” and then it hit me that this isn’t a digression at all; Slate does touch upon some of these issues, however tangentially, in Little Weirds. But mostly the subject matter is so very much stranger, ethereal, and curious than this. In a word, weird.

As the synopsis promises, inside this book you will find: The smell of honeysuckle; heartbreak; a French-kissing rabbit; a haunted house; Death; a vagina singing sad old songs; young geraniums in an ancient castle; Birth; a dog who appears in dreams as a spiritual guide; divorce; electromagnetic energy fields; emotional horniness; and the ghost of a sea captain.

You can also look forward to: gossip; an old dog who flits in and out of each essay like a specter, or a faithful friend; a tragic accident involving a deer and a tennis court; emotional emptiness; metaphors galore; whimsy and sorrow; a cage match between optimism and cynicism; aliens; alienation; letters; prophecies, or maybe wishes; being mansplained to death; terminology from the 1920s (“peepers”! I love it!); and a pit (oh, how I want for this to be a throwback to Parks & Rec!).

Basically, I cannot think of a book with a more perfectly fitting title than Little Weirds. This quirky collection of essays is simply enchanting. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, and – before you even know what’s happening – you’ll find yourself delving into some deep and scary, long-hidden and even liberating places. Some of these essays are prescient AF, and sneakily so. Like, ending this collection with “I Died: Bronze Tree,” followed by “Dog Paw,” is emotional murder.

I died and I have to move on soon, but I will always be so glad for the life I had with you. The fact is that it is incredibly hard to RIP and I’m just not sure I can get it done. Because what will I be now? I know that we will have new life with new forms and that we won’t be able to love each other like we did the last time. Maybe I am going to be a banana and you will be a car. It just won’t work. I know that. And I’m not one to beg for the impossible, especially as a banana, but I can’t seem to stop reacting to the enormity of the final end of us, sweetheart.

I feel personally attacked.

Little Weirds is the kind of book best devoured in small bites. You’ll find yourself offering the book a permanent, cozy home by your bedside; lovingly bookmarking certain chapters, so that you can return to them after an especially excruciating day, or perhaps those nights when you foresee a challenging week ahead. Kind of like the literary equivalent of keeping Parks & Rec (and The Office, Schitt’s Creek, and The Good Place) on your Netflix list even though you’ve watched them a dozen times by now.

In short, you should give Jenny Slate all your money please.

I did it! I worked a Mona-Lisa gif in organically!

(This review is also available on Amazon, Library Thing, and Goodreads. Please click through and vote it helpful if you’re so inclined!)

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