1537: Against Melancholy by Nathan McClain

Summary

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Episode Overview

Podcast: The Slowdown: Poetry & Reflection Daily
Episode: 1537: Against Melancholy by Nathan McClain
Date: June 15, 2026
Host: Guest Host Dianelli Antigua

This episode, guest-hosted by poet Dianelli Antigua, explores the nuanced experiences of joy and melancholy, particularly in challenging times. Antigua offers reflections on the risk and complexity of joy before introducing and reading Nathan McClain’s poem "Against Melancholy." Through personal anecdotes and poetic analysis, the episode helps listeners embrace the interplay of joy and pain.

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Key Discussion Points & Insights

Reflecting on the Nature of Joy

• Opening Meditation on Joy (00:42–02:50)

  • Antigua speaks to the subtle, fleeting quality of joy—not the cinematic, triumphant kind, but a quieter, elusive version.
  • She notes that although science attributes joy to chemicals like dopamine and serotonin, the experience remains hard to grasp and hold.
  • Joy feels mobile; "It rises, it falls. Joy can startle us. It asks us to tip the scales in one direction, knowing how sharp the comedown can feel afterward." (Antigua, 01:19)

• Personal Anecdote: Her Baby Niece (01:22–01:48)

  • Antigua relates her niece’s fear of loud laughter, interpreting it as an inability to handle overwhelming joy—a mirror for her own feelings: "These days, I am my niece. I feel joy arrive and don't know quite what to do with it." (Antigua, 01:45)

• The Risk of Joy (02:00–02:50)

  • She unpacks the phrase "the risk of joy": is opening oneself to joy a gamble, since its absence may bring pain?
  • Antigua recognizes that joy and pain are inextricably bound, referencing the lyric "Joy and Pain" by Mays feat. Frankie Beverly: "The existence of one calls the other into being, like sunshine and rain." (Antigua, 02:38)

The Poem: “Against Melancholy” by Nathan McClain

• Introduction to the Poem (02:51–03:12)

  • Cruz explains how the poem "leans into that tension"—balancing joy and melancholy, reaching for joy even in uncertainty.
  • The poem is read in its entirety, focusing on the sensory experience of joy as both ephemeral and risky.

• Reading of "Against Melancholy" (03:13–05:52)

  • The poem opens with an image of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, evoking moments of cinematic triumph the speaker rarely experiences.

    "At first it is Beethoven's Ninth.
    I'm thinking of not all of it, mostly the fourth movement,
    that rousing crescendo you might hear at the end of a movie..." (McClain, 03:18)

  • The poem’s speaker observes joy from a distance—hearing party sounds from a window, sitting alone, laughter rising outside.

    "...cheers from a party in the courtyard, drifting into the window of my room where I'm often alone, laughter rising like fireworks." (McClain, 03:38)

  • Joy is compared to a child’s red ball—something that escapes and must be chased, risking danger but yielding a fleeting, profound satisfaction when reclaimed.

    "Or sometimes it's a child's red bouncing ball
    that somehow gets away from you and you have to chase it
    into a busy intersection...
    But what feels better than that moment when you catch it, when it's yours?" (McClain, 04:10–04:40)

Main Takeaways & Closing Reflection

• Joy as a Tension, Not a Binary (05:00–05:52)
  • Both Antigua’s preface and McClain’s poem highlight how joy is best appreciated in light of—rather than in opposition to—pain and melancholy.
  • Joy requires vulnerability: the willingness to “open my chest,” risking disappointment or loss for the chance of deep feeling.

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Notable Quotes & Memorable Moments

• On Joy’s Fleeting Nature:

  "Even in the body, joy is something that moves. It rises, it falls. Joy can startle us."
  (Dianelli Antigua, 01:10)

• On the Intertwinement of Joy and Pain:

  "I'm beginning to understand that joy doesn't exist separate from pain, but in spite of."
  (Dianelli Antigua, 02:30)

• On the Risk of Chasing Joy:

  "Maybe chasing it could get you killed or crippled at best. But what feels better than that moment when you catch it, when it's yours?"
  (Nathan McClain, 04:35–04:50)

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Important Timestamps

• 00:42–02:50: Antigua’s poetic opening reflection on joy, pain, and vulnerability
• 03:13–05:52: Full reading of "Against Melancholy" by Nathan McClain with vivid, resonant images
• 05:53–06:18: Closing remarks and invitations to connect with The Slowdown

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Episode Flow & Tone

Dianelli Antigua’s gentle, contemplative delivery matches the episode’s themes of vulnerability and fleeting emotion. The episode invites listeners to reflect on their own relationship with joy, acknowledging both the sweetness and the risks it entails.

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For listeners, this episode serves as both a meditation and a solace, blending science, everyday observation, and poetry to offer hope and insight—even, or especially, when joy feels like a risk worth taking.

Transcript

[A]

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[B]

Hey there. Today's episode is hosted by the poet Dianelli Antigua. Enjoy and I'll be back on June 22nd.

[C]

I'm Dianelli Antigua and this is the Slowdown. Lately I've been thinking about joy. Not the big cinematic kind, not the kind that arrives with music swelling in the background. I mean something quieter, something that comes and goes before we even have time to name it. Joy or happiness consist of chemicals in the brain. Dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin, endorphins. But these are elements I don't fully know how to hold. Even in the body, joy is something that moves. It rises, it falls. Joy can startle us. It asks us to tip the scales in one direction, knowing how sharp the comedown can feel afterward. I'm reminded of my baby niece who would cry whenever people laughed too loudly. Maybe she was scared of the sheer noise. Maybe her new body didn't know how to hold that kind of intensity. Amid everything unfolding in the world, joy can feel more challenging to access. These days, I am my niece. I feel joy arrive and don't quite know what to do with it. I feel its overwhelm and suddenness, the way it asks something of me I'm not always prepared to give. I often hear the phrase the risk of joy, and I keep returning to it. Is joy a risk? And if it is, what is it that we are risking? Can I open my chest to joy, knowing it might hurt me if it leaves? I'm beginning to understand that joy doesn't exist separate from pain, but in spite of Reminds me of the song Joy and Pain by Mays, featuring Frankie Beverly. The title itself holds two opposite things at once. The existence of one calls the other into being, like sunshine and rain. Today's poem leans into that tension. It moves between imagining joy and actually feeling, asks us to reach for it even when we don't quite know how to keep it. Against Melancholy by Nathan McClain at first it is Beethoven's Ninth. I'm thinking of not all of it, mostly the fourth movement, that rousing crescendo you might hear at the end of a movie where the protagonist has graduated or overcome some great hurdle. Cello, violin, then flute, brass, layering one another, swelling towards that feeling of triumph I so rarely seem to have. But often think about now, maybe because of the shrieks and cheers from a party in the courtyard, drifting into the window of my room where I'm often alone, laughter rising like fireworks. Then I'm thinking of the feeling itself, joy, how it almost seems made of air, like you can be full of it. Or sometimes it's a child's red bouncing ball that somehow gets away from you and you have to chase it into a busy intersection and everyone's laying on their horns, all that air vibrating and swollen, your chest swollen too, and maybe chasing it could get you killed or crippled at best. But what feels better than that moment when you catch it, when it's yours? The Slowdown is a production of American Public Media in partnership with the Poetry Foundation. To get a poem delivered to you daily, go to slowdownshow.org and sign up for our newsletter. And find us on Instagram @downdownshow and blueskylowdownshow.org.

[B]

Summer is starting, meaning graduations, wedding season and annual holidays where we come together to celebrate. We are also marking a less rosy milestone. One year ago, federal funding for public media like the Slowdown was cut. Listeners like you stepped up to keep this program going as our budget year comes to a close. Your support helps to make sure a daily moment of poetry stays a part of your routine. Donate [e-mail] or click the link in the show notes.