We all have those days, those conversations, that make us want to curl up in the fetal position and never interact with another person again. Or at least not for several hours. In her debut chapbook, Shannon McLeod shares these kinds of days and conversations. Inside, she lets us chuckle and sigh and shake our heads as she flails through a few different episodes from her life. However, Shannon’s exploration into her own patheticness doesn’t keep her from finding inspiration, joy, and relief along the way.
The essays in Pathetic often flit between humorous self-deprecation and tentative self-affirmation. In “Learning to Tap Dance in Adulthood,” Shannon acknowledges that tap dancing is “not sensual, it’s not sexy, but it is a dance that I can do where it looks the way it’s supposed to.” For her, that’s enough. After all, her goal is less to convince others and more to remind herself that she is more than who other people say or think she is. Similarly, she decides to affirm herself as “grown” in comparison to her art mentor in “Bad Mentor.” Even though she knows he is older and theoretically more experienced, she sees that something “happened in his adolescence that left him stuck there,” and she refuses to let his teaching style make her feel like less. She has grown beyond that.
However, the collection isn’t subtitled “Essays on Enumerated Social Failings” for nothing. Shannon writes about making mistakes and putting herself in bad situations, and she doesn’t try to hide it. She exposes herself as being drawn to an edgy, rebellious boy in tenth grade and admits that she “enjoy[s] Elton’s attention at school” even after she has seen him try to take over her house and boss her around. She goes to a party with her friend Taylor and isn’t shy about how she is “gathering mental energy to interact with strangers.” She presents her introversion and low self-esteem unashamedly, inviting the reader to join her in processing their own struggles.
I LOVED this book. It was funny and painful and wonderful; it had those moments I always look for - the moment where in someone else's writing, I know that I am not alone.
One of my favorite essays was "Learning to Tap Dance in Adulthood" (not an issue I've never had) in which she discusses, among other things, her tallness (another issue I've never had). My favorite moments include, "Tall girls learn to slouch. You can detect a girl recovering from a middle school growth spurt by the slope of her neck." And, "I'm sure the reason they chanted was because my dancing was so absurd. And shameless. I want to feel that way again, shamelessly absurd." Yes. Yes. Yes.