Note: Text has been lightly edited for clarity and does not match audio exactly.
Kat Johnson: Hi, listeners. This is Audible Editor Kat Johnson, and I'm delighted to welcome the one and only Jenny Slate to talk about her new audiobook, Lifeform. Jenny is an acclaimed comedian, actor, bestselling author of Little Weirds, voice and co-creator of the deeply beloved Marcel the Shell with Shoes On, star of the hit film It Ends with Us, and now she is releasing another weird and wonderful baby into the world with Lifeform. Welcome, Jenny. Thank you so much for being here.
Jenny Slate: Hi, thank you.
KJ: First of all, your voice is iconic. A colleague and I had a fun discussion on how to describe it the other day. We felt like "bubbly" didn't do you justice, and she came up with the phrase "delightfully helium." I'm curious how you would describe it, or if you've heard anyone else describe it well?
JS: It's so weird. I'm not one of these people that don't like the sound of my voice. I think that because of Marcel the Shell, and clearly that's my voice, but I contort it a little bit, but maybe that lends to sort of the helium thing. I actually think of my voice as, first of all, I never thought about it before I did voice work, I just never thought about it one way or another. I sort of feel the same way about my eyes, I'm just like, "I don't know, they're brown." It's neither here nor there. But I think of it, weirdly, as deep, but I guess that's not true. And it's really funny to hear "helium." I don't think of it that way, but maybe I just really don't know what's going on. I'm very open to that, and I'm sure it's probably really possible.
KJ: I think that's a good point, because you're right, your natural voice is not that way, and maybe we do associate you so much with Marcel, who we love so much. I think of you as equal parts writer and performer, especially with Lifeform, and you have such a unique approach to both. I'm curious, how do those things work together for you in the creative process, if they do? Like, is format or delivery something you think about when you're writing? Do you have an inner voice that informs both? How does that work?
JS: When I'm writing, I don't think about performing at all, but I would assume that the part of me that is a performer that is hoping for or angling at a type of response or a type of understanding, I think that portion of my personality or my instincts is definitely firing, is all fired up, when I'm writing. But I never write in the hopes of performing or with that outcome in mind. I will say that there's a more inner-inner voice and instinct, and watcher or observer, that knows right away whether or not something is like me or not like me, the essential me. Or whether or not I'm writing something because I have low expectations of what'll be understood, or I'm feeling desperate about something. Those are the things that I try to stay aware of and to understand and then either just express directly or I say, like, "Oh, seems like I want to write this thing that I'm still feeling upset about, whatever this is. And if I can't directly express it, I should save it for another time.” But, yeah, that's a very different part of myself than the sort of most basic performer part.
"The animal kingdom, and being considered one of them, is something that's always fascinated me and has stood as a self-created litmus test for whether or not I am a kind person who's not causing damage and who understands respect and consent."
KJ: We're going to get a little bit more into the audio and the performance later, because it's so wonderful, but I wanted to ask you a little more about the content of the book. Similar to your last book, Little Weirds, Lifeform is this wild journey with lots of delightful digressions, but it especially tracks your journey into motherhood. Speaking as a mother, I wish I had had a book like this when I was going through it for the first time. I feel like no matter how much we hear about it from other people and talk about it as a culture, it's such a shock to the system when we experience it. I'm just curious, how did you know this was going to be the topic of the book? What did you want to add to the discussion about motherhood, if you even thought about it that way?
JS: I don't think I did think about it that way, although it definitely now appears that it was a big concern. And of course it was, but the survey that I'm constantly doing of what my life is about, and what I am, what I currently appear to be, that was more important to me. I guess that feeling that I have, the questioning, the constant trying to place myself in a narrative, figure out where I am in my life, or in my own growth or my own back-sliding, that's just something that I seem to be always concerned with, it never gets old to me. Probably because I change a lot, and I feel that I know myself well, and so it's also really worth my time, I feel, to watch my changes as they happen, because the essential part of me remains. But then my growth makes it easier for me to get to the real truth about what I care about and my levels of feelings and whatever.
So, anyway, I was just sort of trying to figure out what was going on, as always, and that started with the writing process being like, "Let me just start to write about everything that is impacting me, everything that's made an impression," and I had about 86 pieces open at one time. I would write in one and then I would hit a dead end or I would get bored of it or I'd get frustrated, or I would feel like, "You know what? This feels like I've said enough about this today," and I'd move on to another. And I just kept writing, kept trying to touch all of the different areas that were being provided by myself to myself.
Then eventually I decided to sort them, which is different from Little Weirds, because it doesn't really follow any sort of progression, it's more of like an identity collage. I found that my voice was more developed this time, and that I also was entranced by and proud of and also sort of flummoxed by the timeline that was unfolding, and I figured, "Well, this definitely started in a pretty messy process, but I guess I should just lay it all out." And motherhood ended up, and pregnancy ended up, being part of that. Maybe one of the reasons why this book is accessible for both people who are on some sort of parenthood journey or not at all, is that underneath everything, even the gigantic events, is just a person trying to isolate and call out to what has changed and is changing, and that is one of the weirdest parts of being a mother, or was a weird part of being a pregnant person. I was not a different version of myself. Like, I was just myself going through the thing. The thing was different, and I was being changed because of it, but essentially, it was just, like, Jenny in a weird situation [laughs].
KJ: Right. And the way you're seen by everyone else is so different, even though inside you are the same.
JS: Yeah. I definitely remember thinking while I was pregnant that I was like, "Oh." In the past, when I've seen a pregnant person, I've been really fixated on the fact that, "Okay, this person is going to somehow have to be brave enough to have the baby out of their body.” And somehow that came with a, I'm now realizing, unconscious thing that I told myself about them, which was, "They've always been pregnant, they know how to be pregnant." But, in fact, it's a really short thing. You know, if you just dated someone for nine or ten months, people would be like, "Oh, that's kind of a long time,” but not that big of a deal, though. Like, it's long, but it's not that long.
KJ: I remember my sister came to help me after I had my first child, and I was trying to get her to help me swaddle the baby, and she was like, "I don't remember how to do..." And I was so shocked she didn't remember. But now I'm like, how long do you swaddle a baby? For a few months, 10 years ago? Like, how would she know?
JS: Something I really enjoyed, but I also found stressful, or like "Very, very important, this is very important," is that the baby's going through something and you're going through it with them, and then, suddenly, they're not anymore, and they don't need that anymore, and you have to move on. Unlike other things in my life, like learning to drive or something, it's like, "I learned it, and I can do it." I'm not the best driver, that's a bad example [laughs]. I suck at driving. But you mastered the swaddling, and then it's over, and you actually also have to release it, and then you have to start again. Well, what's next? Eventually, it's like, "Okay, and now you have to give them solid food,” or whatever. And it starts again. But then there they are, eating a chicken wing [laughs].
Not that big of a deal. It is, but it isn't. And you just have to keep starting again. In adulthood, I think, again, there's this sort of fake comfort that we can give ourselves, which is like, "Well, once I learned to do that, I never have to do it again," and that adulthood is filled with maybe milestones that you could just get through and you won't have to repeat them, and you'll be able to live with the victory that you did it. But that setup doesn't really work here.
KJ: Right. And one of the things that struck me, your work is always very anthropomorphic, and you love animals. But the physical, animalistic elements of motherhood are so vivid when you go through it. I love all the references to animals in this book. You have raccoons gossiping, you have a stork dream, you have this potty-mouthed duck that I loved. What was resonating for you about connecting to the physical, mammal self of motherhood, or what were you getting at here?
JS: Well, the animal kingdom, and being considered one of them, is something that's always fascinated me, and has stood as a self-created litmus test for whether or not I am a kind person who's not causing damage and who understands respect and consent and things like that, as something that should be part of a communal construct, communal protocol. In my first book, there was a piece called “Beach Animals” about two friends of mine, and about our closeness on this trip that they took, they came to visit me. But my own success within that piece that I was imagining is that I could be in such beautiful communion with my friends and with the seashore and the world, and so free, that even the animals that would normally be afraid of a human would recognize me as one of them.
"I don't like feeling that there is something in my life cycle, a natural life cycle, that is unspeakable, that is not touchable, that is less in value just because of the passing of time."
So, I’ve been kind of into that. It's also like a game that I play with myself to help me feel less lonely. Loneliness is often about “human wishing other humans were around. Human wishing other humans would understand.” And sometimes it's soothing for me to bust through that boundary and say, "What if I could be so much of myself and so kind to myself that animals would know me and not be afraid of me?" I was working with that because also, as I say in my book, it was a time of plague, it was pandemic, we weren't really allowed to be around other human animals.
Also, my experience of pregnancy was one very tied to the science of the body and all of the weird things that the body does during pregnancy. I write about all the little sacs it makes, and it makes a hallway in your body, basically. Like the birth canal, and all the little drinks it makes for the baby in your amniotic fluid, and that stuff. It is very scientific, and it also feels very spiritual, and that to me feels in itself very animal, and I just wanted to continue to bring that in. Not because I am on a mission to redefine a motherhood narrative, but because I actually just want it to be so open, and I want it to be that however it works for me is what I'm allowed to say. I think that's something that is not often felt in human experience anyway, that whatever works for you is what you're allowed to say. That's harder than I wish it was, but it is hard.
KJ: Yeah, no, I agree with you. And that really strikes me about the book is how open, how vulnerable you are, and I think that's why so many people connect to your work, and why it feels so special. I really loved this idea of moms kind of tapping into their creaturely side, because I think that there's something about mother's intuition in there, and it connects you to this broader planetary nature that we often feel so disconnected from. I don't know if you've ever read or listened to Nightbitch, the novel by Rachel Yoder that's about to be a movie.
JS: I haven't yet, but I can't wait to see that film.
KJ: Yeah, that does it really well too. And then another one that sort of struck me, there's one called Women Who Run with the Wolves. Have you read this book by Clarissa Pinkola Estés?
JS: Yes, for sure.
KJ: I was thinking about that when I was listening to your chapter on going crone, which was one of my favorite parts of Lifeform. What is compelling to you about sort of skipping through middle age and going straight to cronehood?
JS: [Laughs] I think it's less of a desire to be old and have pains and not have the eyesight and the hearing, the things that I have right now at the levels that I have them. It's not that. The piece is more of a statement about the lack of curiosity and support for the bridge of time that is between 40 and 80, and that, again, that makes me feel lonely and it makes me feel sad. I just feel sad that there is dwindling worth placed on that bridge of time, and I reject that. So, the first part of the rejection is being like, "Fine, I'm just not going to do it. I'm going to ask the doctor if there's any way that I can skip that and just become old," which is obviously not a real question to ask a real doctor, but I do ask that in my book of the fake doctor that I write lots of insane letters to, or inappropriate letters to.
But the other thing is, I don't like being threatened. I don't like feeling that there is something in my life cycle, a natural life cycle, that is unspeakable, that is not touchable, that is less in value just because of the passing of time. I didn't create the aging process, and I don't understand why I should have to suffer by it, and in things that certainly, generally, just feel misogynist. Like, we're just not as freaked out about men aging as we are about females. It's something that I don't like, but I also don't want to be freaked out by anymore. I was just kind of trying to find the answer for myself, and putting it in this rather jokey context. Part of that also means, if I put it in a jokey context, I can call out what feels wrong to me and how it feels, how the wrongness appears and what it feels like. I think airing that out is a way of saying, like, "Hey, something's hurting me," and admitting that.
Sometimes we're not even allowed to admit what is upsetting. So, just trying to roll that all up into there. I don't really think about death very much at all, but I think a lot about suffering, and a lot of my work and my sort of general mindset is around, "How can I not deny the existence of pain and heartbreak and that we are mortal without creating suffering? Like, how can I stop straining, and how can I make the situations in which I am in combat into the least amount?"
KJ: That's really beautiful. And parts of the book that you talk about grief, and you have the obituaries, and then you have this wonderful thought about how we pay a price to hurt less, by sort of remembering less. It's so beautiful. The book is laugh-out-loud hilarious, but then also it's incredibly moving.
JS: Oh, thank you.
KJ: I really, really, really love it. We hear so much about how impossible it is for mothers to have it all, and do it all, and be it all, but I love how Lifeform is really, to me, feels like proof that motherhood can be a doorway into this greater intuition and creativity. Do you think motherhood or becoming a mom has changed you creatively or affected your process?
JS: I can't tell if maybe this time would've just passed and I would've continued to develop my creative voice as it is. Certainly, it affected the subject matter. But I also think that there is often a secret wish that something just might be simpler. Like, that a challenge will only lead to a victory that feels good and clean, and will reduce future challenges and the rate at which they occur. I think that it feels really good to me to understand that that setup, at least for me in my life, is not realistic.
One thing that I think motherhood or parenthood has really allowed me to see for myself is the issues are not with the challenges, although the challenges will be hard. The issue is whether or not I can continue to build the strength, warmth, kindness, and flexibility to encounter challenges and not be furious at myself that somehow challenges still exist. Like, the idea that motherhood has made me more perfect is absolutely silly. Like, that's not cool. It's just not cool, that's not true.
"Just being able to notice yourself, that's something of value. It's not small—it's actually really huge."
But I do think that the idea that motherhood has made me more accepting of complexity and of simultaneous beauty and doubt and the constant thing that I'm in, which is realizing that I'm being very critical of myself, and then having to quiet that down. Just the lucidity to be like, "Oop, it's happening," and to catch it, let's say, 60 percent of the time, is something that I didn't use to have. I also think that's something that hasn't been placed in the conversation as something of value. Just being able to notice yourself, that's something of value. It's not small—it's actually really huge, and I think the more one can notice oneself, the more you feel safe from assumptions, and safe from doing weird stuff because you are dissociating or in denial about how we all function. And that is something that parenthood has revealed to me, it's a gift that I've gotten through parenthood. But I don't think I would be stalled out or stalled as a writer if I weren't a parent, and I feel very careful to say, "This happened to me, but I'm not suggesting it…" Not because I don't like it, but I think it's unfair and strange to say that there's only one access point for one's liberation or one's growth.
KJ: Yeah, no, 100 percent. Getting back to the audiobook, I have to talk about, in addition to your own narration, you have some incredible guest voices on here. You have Booker Prize-winning author George Saunders, who's playing your therapist. You have SNL's Will Forte and Vanessa Bayer, who are in these amazing old-timey play interludes that you have. Can you please tell us more about how they got involved and how that went?
JS: Well, who wouldn't want George Saunders to be their real therapist? Like, he is just so funny and kind and wise and open and understanding and curious. I wanted the voice of a nice, old-fashioned, kind person, not an old person, that's not what I'm trying to say. I'm trying to say, "What is a voice that is soothing?" And I wanted it to be a man, because for some reason I imagined the therapist in my book as a man, and the doctor. I think a lot of that is that if the therapist or the doctor—which you never really know what the gender of the doctor is, but I wrote it thinking that it was a man—if it is a male and I'm a female, it's sort of, to me, you X out the ability for some sort of built-in understanding, you know? I imagined these characters as men who were a bit older than me, because I also find often that that is the person that I am worried about whether or not they're going to want to hear what I have to say or understand me.
In the case of the doctor, you never know whether or not that doctor does understand me, and the character that I'm playing of myself is being very inappropriate. But the therapist is sort of doing the best they can, but then they also make a mistake. And I just wanted someone who also was really funny, and I love George's voice and I know that he's very funny. I didn't write it thinking of a person, but then when I was editing the book, I just kept thinking, "Oh my gosh, it would be so great if George would do it," because he's the last person on Earth that I would ever want to have attitude with, because he's so kind and he's been so generous to me. And so I thought, "Ooh, what a big move it would be to do this with him,” and I will amp up my own inappropriateness if I am playing this version of myself, who's rather rude and defensive towards her therapist." So, it just seemed like it would be such a gift if I could get him to do it, and it was lovely that he agreed.
KJ: And you did it for him, you narrated one of his stories.
JS: That's true. I hadn't thought of that. Yeah, right, that's true. I narrated the beautiful story called “Sparrow” from his latest collection, and it was a true honor. That story is so incredibly crafted, and it really is one of those situations where sometimes I'll stop and be like, "Wow. I can't believe I know this person. I can't believe he has supported my work, and then asked me to come and be involved with his." There's very few markers of success that I really care about, but I think being recognized by someone that you deeply admire, and having them ask you to join them in something, that's something in success that it doesn't wear down in time, the thrill that that is something in my life.
KJ: I think what's so interesting about your career, too, is that people know you from so many different things. People who know that you were on SNL, or people who know Marcel the Shell, or It Ends with Us, and there are so many different things. I mean, your father is a poet, you studied literature in school, now George Saunders has given you the seal of approval. I think your writing is really so special and so legit. I think that's a great marker of success for your writing.
JS: Yeah. It's treasured. His support is very, very treasured by me, for sure.
KJ: I'm curious, you have been involved in so many different things over the years, and I feel like fans really connect to you because you do put yourself out there in such an authentic way. I'm curious how your relationship to fame has evolved over the course of your career, and whether you feel like you've observed any differences in the sort of fame you've gotten, or if it even affects choices that you make consciously in your career?
JS: I think I'm going into a time of being more and more deliberate about what projects I choose to do. And a lot of that is about understanding myself more, of finally sort of divesting myself of a feeling of desperation, and just allowing myself to really, really love acting, and to believe in myself as an artist and a performer, and just make choices from that place. I've never been one who's very good at like, "Well, this seems like a strategic move." Every time I've done that, it's honestly bit me right in my ass. I'm just not a great game player. I think I also don't want to be away from my daughter and husband very much, so I think I'm just getting more specific at choosing things.
But talking about fame or celebrity is deeply awkward, because it sounds like fishing, but I don't think of myself as a famous person. Although I know I'm very fortunate to have people go to my standup shows. I understand that those theaters, people are buying those tickets, and that there was a time in my life when they weren't, and it's incredible to sell out a big theater. That feels so good. And I know that that is because of notoriety. But the way that I experience myself in the world, it feels like I have been given this sort of tincture dropper of good fortune into my life, where I'll be walking on the street in New York City, and I'm very fortunate that people do come up to me, but they're always nice. I feel very appreciated, and so I feel very grateful, because I am someone that I can feel the largeness of the world, and it can make me feel very vulnerable. So, I feel like I've gotten this sort of sweet spot, that as a child I actually hoped for, which is like, "I hope strangers come up to me and they know who I am." For what is really important to me. And I've been lucky enough that I think the things that I am most approached for are the things that are closest to my heart, and the closest to the truth of who I am and how I experience the world, and what I hope my relational experiences will be.
"The way that I experience myself in the world, it feels like I have been given this sort of tincture dropper of good fortune into my life, where I'll be walking on the street in New York City, and I'm very fortunate that people do come up to me, but they're always nice."
So, people coming up to me because of Little Weirds or Marcel the Shell, that just feels so good to me. But I don't think it's a self-esteem issue. I honestly just really don't think of myself as a famous person, and it feels embarrassing to me when—like, I don't know how to describe it, but I just don't see it that way. I see myself as always, and it's not because I'm delusional, but because most of my life is very normal.
KJ: Yeah, no, that's fair.
JS: And there are a lot of times when I just feel so bad about myself, like that I haven't been very successful and I haven't done a good job, and all those normal things that other people struggle with, no matter what their career is. So, I really do feel I'm kind of generally in the human pool, I'm just on like a weird little floating device that has glitter on it or something [laughs].
KJ: No, it's true. And I can attest, actually, like, 13, 14 years ago, I lived in Carroll Gardens and I think we overlapped, because I did see you one time at the farmers market, seeming so normal. So, it is true. And here you are, still seeming so normal.
JS: I mean, it's probable that you might've seen me then, but like, "She seemed incredibly stoned." Those were the days for sure. I never used to go out of the house or do anything without being stoned. I just can't believe the amount of marijuana use that used to be in my life. And now it's been many, many years, many years, because I just got so paranoid, that I was like, "I guess this is over forever."
KJ: Just when the whole culture opened up to it.
JS: Yeah, you know? Just when it became legal, I was like, "I can't do this anymore."
KJ: I really just had one more question for you, but before I do that, is there anything that I haven't asked that you would love to share with our listeners about the book or in general?
JS: Oh, no, you've asked great questions. I'm enjoying connecting with what you're interested in. I genuinely really enjoy this conversation, and I enjoy the opportunity to do external processing in front of other people. I think it's a risk-taking activity that is worth it, because it's also an expression of goodwill. Like, "I'm not gonna work this out privately, I'll answer it right now. What could be so bad about that?” And even being unsure, even not having a fully developed answer, I feel like we can all be so scared of each other, these days especially. It's best for me to try to participate in an alternate engagement there.
KJ: So true.
KJ: Well, Jenny, before we go, is there anything that you're working on next that you could share with fans that you're excited about?
JS: I'm still kind of interested in working through the ways that postpartum experiences, ones that are beautiful and ones that are more just depression-based, how they actually connect to many instances of feeling like there was a big impact. Whether that's how I felt socially as a teenager, or what it felt like when I really wanted to become a professional performer and it was like, "Well, you're not a child anymore and you're out of college, so the clock is ticking." Like, "It's begun," you know? Like, "You're on. It's on, it's happening right now."
I'm interested in creating more performance pieces possibly adapted from this new book, Lifeform. I'm doing some work now, trying to write about the dreamscape and how it is a beautiful way to process what has already occurred, and to turn yourself towards what you hope will happen. But that's very vague, because I'm just not ready to totally say.
KJ: That's fair. Well, it's a beautiful thought to end on, thank you so much for sharing it with us. Thank you so much for being here today, it was just such a pleasure.
JS: Oh, thank you for having me. I'm just really excited for people to listen to the audiobook as well as to read it, but I love doing the audio recordings because I really perform my heart out. I just do it, I need it for me, and I hope that that energy of really, really engaging with it comes through for the listeners, and it is a dream come true for me to be a performer who gets to express herself in so many different areas and genres, and to say so much about myself and have listeners, so thanks for having me here and for anyone who will listen.
KJ: Thank you so much. And listeners, Lifeform, written and read by Jenny Slate, is available on Audible now.