Bethany Handley’s debut pamphlet, Cling Film, explores existing as a young Disabled woman in an ableist and inaccessible world. The opening line of the title poem reads: ‘Ableism. Verb. The act of wrapping the world in cling film.’ The collection lays bare the barriers that disable people, from physical inaccessibility to the discrimination of others, such as incompetent doctors, or ignorant passers-by.
Joy is found in nature, however, including a wheelchair user leaving proud tyre marks across the beach in ‘Hiya Butt Bay’. These formally inventive poems challenge myths about disability in ways that are striking, astute, and devastatingly exact.
These poems are mirrors, reflecting the ways society hasn't been designed for disability in mind — and in fact, disables people. From a lack of drop kerbs, people wishing you to "get better", to accessing nature, Bethany's sharp observation and wit points out injustices but also transcends them.
Bethany Handley's voice is so singularly hers, you could hear these poems shouted from the tops of mountains and know that they're hers. She is also incredibly generous with her voice and skill as a writer — these poems aren't just for those of us who have experienced ableism and discrimination, but for anyone who values life..
How do you cope with a world that’s not designed for you? Seeing things through Bethany’s eyes is a revelation, not just in the lack of facilities for wheelchair users but in the gobsmackingly awkward and intrusive reactions from others. As annoying as that obviously is Bethany writes about it marvellously with passion, rebelliousness and a delightfully vituperative humour. It is also wildly inventive in both form and subject matter. There is so much going on in this small book it is an education as well as being highly entertaining.
An absolutely stunning poetry collection capturing the transition to disabled life and exposure to ableism
"You show me a photo of your mother. Tell me she has MS. Ask if I know that disabled boy you met on the bus. You tell me about your partner's knee replacement. How, for a few weeks he'll need a chair like me. You tell me you've fainted once so you get it."