Shannon seems to be a splendid person, and I have really come to respect and appreciate her insights and her person as she's shared them via Instagram. There were a number of beautiful and piercing moments of insight in this collection, and other quick sentiments that felt more like notes app scrawlings (but every collection of poetry is bound to have bits that connect with you more than others). I think I agree with other reviewers that the writing here sometimes seems more like Instagram captions or blog entries than a polished collection of poetry, but I also don't think that that makes the insights less valuable. It's maybe just written in a more . . . online register?
Getting to hear the beauty that Shannon has fought for in the midst of a lot of pain is a great privilege. She pushes back against cultural narratives that might say we ought to be grateful for our pain and the lessons it teaches ("everything happens for a reason!"), that suffering inherently ought to be transformed into trite lessons, or else that those who have faced great adversity should be grateful for their pain because it made them the person they are today. She does not abide such theodicy. She also, with such a great tenderness, does talk about how she has been changed in painful and in formative ways by her illness, has had to grow around and in spite of it, but not because the illness in and of itself was good. I really appreciate how she strikes that balance.
I am grateful Shannon wrote and shared these words.
//
Some favorite bits:
"I greet the world
in pain
or not at all—
so I greet the world in pain" ("I Greet the World In Pain," 2).
"Sometimes I mention it just so someone else will know.
I am in physical pain
more often than I am without it.
It's that way for a lot of us.
More people than you'd think. . . .
Just let me be in pain
and be everything else I am.
Don't make me hide it.
It takes everything
just to endure it.
Don't make me hide it, too" ("Vanishing Act," 30).
"I've come to treasure my hardships. I find that they make me soft in a way that I like. I find they've opened my arms to strangers instead of closing them. But this? I would give anything to change it. Change me, make me back into the person I was before. For all the ways I've been made better, I'd give it all back in an instant to not wake up and wonder if I'll have a day without pain" ("Before and After," 50).
"Compose yourself.
Speak intelligently.
People want to help what they love;
make them love you. Make them love you
and survive
another day.
Ten years old, nine years old,
twenty-five years old, thighs stuck to the paper
and fists balled behind her back.
These are the very first lessons she learns. To be lovely
in addition to everything else" ("Lovely," 62-63).
"I was always either hysterical
or exaggerating my pain
until they cut me open to find the proof
and suddenly I was brave, and sick,
and worth believing.
Nothing had changed
but a note in a chart
and the knowledge
that I could never shut up
until I was better.
And that was how I saved my own life.
The suits were just there,
taking notes" ("Of Note," 64).
"And if I hate my bad health
then I love my good nature.
Sickness didn't plant it in me
like every inspiring story.
It was just always there.
I'd have been a happy and kind healthy person, too,
I think" ("Houseplant" 69).
"What a strange,
strange life, to hurt
so badly and still
have everything I need.
What an incredible thing" ("How Strange," 136).
//
Note for Kindle users: I purchased the eBook version of this collection, only to be told that my Kindle Paperwhite couldn't read it (I think it might have something to do with the format of the illustrations?). So I ended up needing to read it via the Kindle app on my computer. Not my favorite place to read, but that is a small complaint (and of course no fault of the author's).