Jen Campbell's Please Do Not Touch This Exhibit reviews & poem features
Poem feature on Bookanista; reviews in Disability Arts Online, Literary Hub & Under the Radar; YouTube reviews; Books of the Year 2023. Essay by Jen Campbell in TOAST,...
After the nuclear disaster of Chernobyl in April 1986,
radioactive rain fell across Europe.In the following three years,
in the northeast of England, there were many more cases of children
born with limb differences. I was born in January 1987, in Sunderland,
with Ectrodactyly Ectodermal Dysplasia Clefting Syndrome.
I
The rain falls in northern England and still
the women dig deeper for their children.
They rip fingertips below the green
houses. Bellow in the soil and marvel
at the wet, wet earth so much like the sea –
of which they are afraid. Not mother
earth. Not the bearer or the ark. Nor
the trees. No, they search the soil for seeds
and they are thankful. They are grateful.
It’s only after that my mother is grave.
II
Nine months later, I am clawed
from the sea.
A river child.
A lobster baby.
Oh, they say. Oh.
All fingers and thumbs.
My blanket: petrichor,
and we drown in genetics.
III
Late at night, my friends and I are watching The Hills Have Eyes and I know that I am
the only body horrified.
They dare each other to run outside
but I stay put.
My meat heart pounding –
Monster. Monster. Monstrous.
IV
In an Airbnb in Copenhagen
my husband and I watch
the TV show Chernobyl.
Jared Harris and Emily Watson
are saving the world but –
its people are burning, and
I have rage, the likes of which you
would not believe.
The April before I arrived,
men were godlike in their mistakes.
Obsessed with their creations.
Now my hands are birds
elephants
rock salt
constellations
anemone.
Listen to me:
until the 1800s, anyone
with a disfigurement
was medically called a monster.
V
Somewhere, I am certain
Mary Shelley stands on a mountain top,
commanding the clouds.
It has stormed for weeks, and she
is lost for words – haunted
by images of a jigsawed man.
We all look skywards.
Seawards.
See the tumbling birds, feel
the damp soil inking into our feet.
This is where we were meant to meet.
We mother-hunt for hours in the flesh of the earth.
We plant ourselves, firmly
and cross our numbered digits. Then, oh then –
we summon the rain.
Contents List
11 At First, the House Is Blue
12 Anatomy of the Sea
15 Dear [______] [1]
16 The Hospital Is Not My House
19 Dear [______] [2]
20 The Hospital Is Not a Place for Bodies
23 Dear [______] [3]
24 For a While, the House Is Green
25 The House of Mirrors Is Owned by the Freak Show
26 The Body Festival
27 Ghost-Whisperer
28 Sometimes, The House Is Made of Glass
29 Dear [______] [4]
30 Please Do Not Touch This Exhibit
31 Technical Rehearsal
32 First Thing, I Am a Forest
33 Dear [______] [5]
34 Alopecia
37 My Brain Is a Sleeping Thing
38 We Must Admit, the House Is Pink
39 Fell
40 For Some Reason, I Can’t Stop Writing About Lighthouses
41 In My Dream, the House Is Dark
42 When I Revisit This Room, I Want to Leave Again
45 Poem as Bad Doctor
46 Somehow, the House Is Orange
47 The Five Stages of IVF
48 When It Arrives, It Weighs 5kg
49 The Hospital Is Not Big Enough for the Two of Us
52 Trying to Gain Entry into The Republic of Motherhood
53 This Is Just to Say
54 When I Go to the Woods
55 The Weekend the Garden Reflected Our House
56 The Trees Are Part of the Process
57 Now, The House Is Red
58 This Doesn’t Have a Name Yet
60 The House Is All the Colours, All at Once
61 Common Side Effects