Please Do Not Touch This Exhibit explores disability, storytelling, and the process of mythologising trauma. Jen Campbell writes of Victorian circus and folklore, deep seas and dark forests, discussing her own relationship with hospitals — both as a disabled person, and as an adult reflecting on childhood while going through IVF.
Please, Do Not Touch This Exhibit is Jen Campbell's second collection. Her first book-length collection, The Girl Aquarium (Bloodaxe Books, 2019), was shortlisted for the poetry category of the Books Are My Bag Readers Awards 2019 and was a semifinalist for the Goodreads Choice Awards 2019 (Best Poetry category).
Jen Campbell is a bestselling author and award-winning poet. Her short story collection The Beginning of the World in the Middle of the Night is published by Two Roads, her children's picture books, Franklin's Flying Bookshop, Franklin and Luna go to the Moon, and Franklin and Luna and the Book of Fairy Tales are published by Thames & Hudson. Her poetry collection The Girl Aquarium is published by Bloodaxe.
Jen is also the author of the Sunday Times bestselling Weird Things Customers Say in Bookshops series, and The Bookshop Book. Her poetry pamphlet The Hungry Ghost Festival is published by The Rialto. She's a recipient of an Eric Gregory Award and won the Jane Martin Poetry Prize.
Jen worked as a bookseller for ten years and now has a Youtube channel, where she talks about all things books. She also runs a podcast called BOOKS WITH JEN, is Vlogger in Residence for the Poetry Book Society, offers writing workshops and editorial services, and runs a book club for TOAST.
She grew up in the north east of England and now lives in London. She is represented by Charlie Campbell at Kingsford Campbell.
It’s been a long time since I’ve last reviewed a poetry collection, because I frankly I’m not all that good at it. For this one though, I’m making an exception, as it’s one of my favourite things I’ve read this year, so it wouldn’t feel right to stay completely quiet about that. Reviewing poetry, in many ways, is more like reviewing music than it is reviewing fiction. It’s so hard to explain why something works or doesn’t work for you. The words either hit the note, or they don’t. They strike the chord you wanted them to, or they don’t. For me, Please Do Not Touch This Exhibit was a composition that resonated on so many levels. From its major chords; its sense of playful wonder, and its allusions to the sea and mythology. To its minor ones; the deep reverberating themes of disability, and its effects on growing from a girl to a woman (to a mother); from which I felt the hum of recognition in my bones.
I’ve been a fan of Jen Campbel for years now, exactly because of the way she covers these themes, within her own writing but also her content of Youtube. In that strange parasocial way that authors (and nowadays, online content creators) can, she’s had a big impact on my own journey towards coping with my own (childhood-) illness and subsequent disability. This collection feels like some of her most personal work, and is my favourite to date. It juggles illness, (dis-)ability and agency of body through girlhood into womanhood. It covers childlike wonder, childhood trauma, complex longing and a desperate plea at the doors of the Kingdom of Motherhood.
I want to recommend this collection to everyone, but can’t help feeling it would be a bit like recommending my favourite song to someone else. They may enjoy the beat, the melody, or the lyrics, but they won’t share the same connection to it that I felt, because they didn’t share “that specific experience when I first heard it, that made it special to me.” Then again, it just might… If you liked Jen’s previous work, or the likes of Kirsty Logan, Polly Atkin, Sinéad Gleeson, Rebekah Taussig (I’m probably forgetting a million more): this might be of a similar tune.
On a final, possibly slightly spoilery note; when I first heard the title, I didn’t understand or like it. Then, after reading the freakshow-poems and landing on the titular one, I felt a literal lump in my throat when I grasped its significance. As a fellow “child of the freak-show”, gosh darn, there’s a plea I made a number of times…
Stand-out poems: The Hospital is Not My House, When I Revisit This Room I Want to Leave Again, The Trees Are Part of the Process, Alopecia, Common Side Effects, The Hospital is Not Big Enough for Two of Us (darn that final one got me good).
This is a really lovely collection of autobiographical poems about disability that feel at times almost like dark fairy tales. I found these poems profoundly moving and extremely bingeable.
Disclaimer: I received an advanced readers copy from the author. These are my honest thoughts and opinions on the collection.
Back in 2019, I read and adored Jen’s debut poetry collection, The Girl Aquarium - in fact, I finished my review stating: “This is an absolutely stunning piece. It feels effortless yet you know there's years of practice, craft, and a deep rooted love for poetry behind it, and I think Campbell has so much to say. I'm greedily hoping there's another collection soon...” Now, four years later, Jen’s second collection is due to be released in September and I was lucky enough to read an advanced readers copy.
I can’t say too much as this book isn’t due out for a while yet and things can still be changed/edited, and I definitely want to reread it when the physical book is available to I can fully engage with the poems on the page — but Jen Campbell continues to stagger me with her imaginative imagery that feels so earthy and primal yet strangely other-worldly.
I’ll definitely write more about this book when it’s officially released and I can talk about my favourite poems and themes but for now, I’ll summarise my thoughts by confirming that Jen Campbell certainly has so much to say and my goodness it is so wonderful to listen.
Her second collection of poetry. I haven’t read her first one and am not a huge poetry fan in general, but I like the authour and her YouTube page so I wanted to give this a shot. 63 pages total and covering themes of disability. My fave poems were anatomy of the sea, alopecia, and when I revisit this room I want to leave again (last one is quite devastating). After every other poem, she inserts some of her childhood doctor notes. It’s an interesting transition. Both her as a sick child and an adult going through IVF.
This was a weird collection in all the good ways. I really liked how experimental these poems were without muddling down the meaning. There were some poems that were more impactful than others, but also a few poems I would consider favorites here. A solid collection that leaves me wanting more of this style!
Jen Campbell's writing is mesmerizing as she tells stories that explore mythology, storytelling, all of it centering living with a disability. There is exploration of hospitals, IVF, and being a disabled person with chronic illness in these contexts. The series of poems about the houses being different colors were my favorites while others simply enraged me as I could feel the disregard and disrespect for a patient at a hospital who is being treated like a "specimen" or not worthy of being taken seriously.
I've read one other collection by this author and I'm terribly excited to continue reading her works in the future.
Ugh Jen, I just want to find you and give you the biggest hug. They say “use the pain to make art,” and boy did you do just that. This is heartbreaking and beautiful and so insightful at the same time.
TW: infertility, disabilities, disfigurement, chronic illness, callous doctors, and unfortunately, the apathetic world we live in
For the past weeks I have read this collection of poetry again and again. Every time I find new ways to crush my heart. I find it very difficult to review poetry, because it is to individual, what stands out to each reader. I hope many will find this book. It is beautiful, heart-wrenching and important.
Despite my best efforts, I'm still not really a poetry person. I don't really know how to read a poem, or decipher meaning from the formatting. But I try my best to take away from it what I can. And from this I took away that people really suck at treating people with disabilities kindly. Especially that one doctor who better watch her back.
There's two things I can tell you. One is I didn't get most of this, as I haven't read much poetry, and that makes my brain itch badly cause I want to and I dont know how to get there so if you have any advice for a non native English speaker please tell me The other thing is when I did get at least part of what the author was trying to say/accomplish (I told y'all, im new here 😭) I really appreciated it. So it makes me want to reread when I get better at reading poetry in English 🫡
I think that you need to know Jen from her YouTube videos in order to really enjoy her poems. And they weren't even easy to decipher for me and I've been her subscriber for years. I can see myself revisiting this collection for many years to come.
I originally borrowed this from the library, but bought a personal copy before I was even halfway through so I could annotate, because holy shit this collection is SO good. As a disabled person myself, a lot of these hit especially hard, but I would also recommend it to anyone who just appreciates poetry in general. It was so powerfully and magnificently written. This is one of my two favorite poetry books of all time (tied for first place with Odes to Lithium by Shira Erlichman).
Had a big ol cry in some of these poems. God a good doctor is a blessing. It's hard to read about someone's fertility struggles when it's something that worries me fairly often, but it's helped a bit by the news that Jen's IVF has been successful recently (which is the loveliest news). The whole collection ties together so seamlessly, in subject matter and imagery. I ordered Please Do Not Touch This Exhibit months ago and it was very much worth the wait.
Two chapters into this poetry collection, I knew I was holding and reading something truly precious. I'm thankful to have discovered this title through a recommendation on YouTube, and from the description given I knew I had to get a copy and give this book a read. This book is a personal and heartfelt narration from Jen Campbell about her own experiences with disability, IVF, and hospitals, and she puts it all down on paper in such imaginative and whimsical prose that conjures images of brooding forests, living oceans, and brightly lit circuses, all with an undercurrent of horror and trauma and transformation. After reading the whole collection cover to cover, I immediately started revisiting chapters and rereading paragraphs that left a lasting impression on me, and I just know I will be coming back to these words in the future to re-experience them all once more.
I thought Please Do Not Touch This Exhibit was brilliant. It was through gorgeous sea and primal imagery that the author conveys her experiences with her condition and their journey through IVF. It was raw and exposing, tender and harsh. This collection takes over your senses. It was odd because I can not understand the author's journey but I can empathize and what is odd is that I felt understood by the end, it that makes any sense, in my own journey.
There so much that this collection offers and I found it utterly masterful. Highly recommend others to pick it up if they are so inclined. It was beautiful. It was poignet. I loved it! 5 stars 🤩🤩🌟
I don't have the words to describe Jen Campbell's writing... For your soul, you should read this short poetry collection. If you're familiar with hospitals, there is a haunting companionship, the knowledge of this chronic, exhausting fight, in the magic of those pages. Going back to crying now.
A beautiful little book of poetry surrounding the memories of growing up with disabilities, physical malformations and then swimming in the current of IVF.
Strangely whimsical even though it's themes can be heavy.
Cohesive, atmospheric, surreal. I felt like I was drifting through these poems underwater. Jen Campbell’s ability to create beautiful poems from such a place of raw personal pain and repeated medical trauma is remarkable. “The Hospital Is Not My House” was a stand out for me, but there were other moments where I caught my breath and couldn’t seem to get it back.
I should have posted this months ago (I inhaled this collection when I first received my copy), but I wanted to sit with the images and re-read.
This feels way too personal to rate, but oof the interspersed medical notes really got to me as someone with a history of many hospital trips as a child
Really lovely to read in one go on a train ride. The body-as-a-house metaphor was evocative, and reminded me of In The Dream House. I also loved the clips taken from doctor's notes, sounding both clinical and affectionate.
I watch Jen Campbell's reviews on YouTube and I've long appreciated her thoughtful, detailed and honest reviews. Having said that: I definitely expected the beautiful language and the insightful poetry. I had no idea Jen was born in the aftermath of Chernobyl and that her disability may have been caused by the nuclear disaster. While I wasn't the biggest fan of the house changing colors poems, I found her discussions on disability and medical reaction to a "rare" case really poignant and moving. "Trying to gain entry into the Republic of Motherhood" and "The house is all the colors, all at once" where probably my favorite poems, although "The Hospital Is Not My House," discussing the extensive surgeries she had as a child, was also a very strong contender (from which I'm going to include a few lines). The blue magicians roll up their sleeves and plant trees to decide where her body should be. A sapling here, a root pulled there. They label all her countries, lick a paintbrush across the borders, higher Victorian seamstresses to cover the skin or her colors don't match.
Some of the poems were hit or miss for me - I just personally struggle with styles that try to pluck out imagery and really prefer poetry styles that are more like thoughts. And there are a mixture of these, so some of the poems I really liked, too, particularly: ‘Alopecia’, ‘When I revisit this room, I want to leave again’, ‘Trying to gain entry into the republic of motherhood’ and ‘the weekend the garden reflected our house’. These ones really felt like they got the perfect balance of expressive language and really tangible snapshots of places and experiences.
The other massive triumph of this collection is the structure - it really does feel like one cohesive piece of work where each poem is carefully placed to complement or contrast the others around them to brilliant effect. I really liked the inclusion of the medical notes, and how the progression of the author’s life is subtly but powerfully illustrated as it goes along.
I don’t read loads of poetry, but am a big fan of Jen Campbell and her writing. Her last collection The Girl Aquarium as very good, but this one is excellent. These poems are very personal and you can tell when reading them and cover subjects of disability, IVF and hospital treatments with a mixture of folklore in there too.
My favourite poems from this collection are: Please Do Not Touch This Exhibit, Technical Rehearsal, First Thing, I Am a Forest, Fell and For Some Reason I Can’t Stop Writing About Lighthouses.
There is also some brilliant imagery
‘how their orange fur tumbled like scarves in the wash’
‘see, there are webs stuck to my eyelids, too; sewn shut to keep the ghosts out of this temporary bone house. I’ve begin to wear a rain jacket in an attempt to escape this weathering’.