Titles work a long way in setting the expectations for a novel. They can be ominous, forbidding, clever, and witty. They can be earnest, nonsensical, or artistic and abstract. Or, they be comically poignant which turns out to be true for Chris Panatier‘s novel, Shitshow. It’s not a reach to imagine something funny, something possibly lighthearted, or tongue-in-cheek with a title like this for a novel about a latrine technician who seems to accidentally stumble upon a string of disappearances centered around, you guessed it, porta potties at local Texas fairs. But what Panatier delivers is something rather unexpected, something that clasps onto your heart and doesn’t let go until the final pages of this novel are turned. To be frank, never did I think a book titled Shitshow would elicit tears from my eyes, yet here I stand. So, let’s unpack how Panatier does it.
Perhaps what is embraced so gracefully with this novel are the things in life we don’t talk about. Humanity calls for a general avoidance to the off-putting whether in the form of literal shit or proverbial shit: illness, hard times, sacrifice, and loss. And while most folks turn away, Panatier leans into the suck, the shit, the crap. His main character Sunday is, as I mentioned before, a latrine technician, not because he enjoys handling human excrement everyday, but because his circumstances call for a job that allows for certain flexibilities given his mother’s worsening dementia. Sunday and his mother’s stories are stories that many may shy away from telling given all the uncomfortableness, the hurt, and the repulsion. Yet, I would advocate that these are the stories that deserve the most attention, the brightest spotlight, as suffering alone in isolation feels like a hell of its own.
This very hell is brought to life through some very imaginative (and very icky, if I’m being honest) horrors as Sunday gets to the bottom of what’s really going on with all these disappearances. Here is where the mystery aspect of this novel really shines, creating a compelling pace as we are so desperate to make sense of these strange occurrences. Seriously, Shitshow taps into the same whimsical weirdness that you may recognize from The X-Files’ season two episode, Humbug (sorry, can’t help myself here). The carnival horror on display feels so fun amid a backdrop of heavy emotional work with these characters, a creative delight of the absolutely most terrible contraptions, rides, and spectacles.
To bring it all home is a rather bittersweet ending, one I certainly won’t spoil here, but something that absolutely needs to be talked about. Panatier crafts a conclusion that is perfectly fitting for this story, one of seeming endings, unconventional beginnings, and shaking hands with the inevitable. Cue the waterworks.
A delightful novel that lifts heavy weights, Shitshow is the definition of balance, a perfect blend of dark and light that delivers a poignant, entertaining narrative surrounding life’s shittiest dealings. Chris Panatier very gracefully handles many a sensitive topic with this book to remind us all that endings aren’t always what we imagine. Sincere and earnest in all the best ways, Shitshow is simply sublime.
Shitshow by Chris Panatier releases from Sobelo Books on September 2, 2025.
