Reviewed by Kate Champlin
Content warning: domestic abuse, sexual violence, systematic discrimination, and systematic abuse
The cover of Bad Weather Mammals is a sepia photograph of a woman trapped or, perhaps, staked out in a pile of animal bones. She stares defiantly into the distance. The poems inside are much like the cover: raw and unrelenting. These poems describe physical and emotional abuse, chronic illness that causes chronic pain, and the ableism inherent in modern medicine and law enforcement. The poems are often difficult to read. Nevertheless, each poem demonstrates defiance. Best speaks back to her abusers, both within her poems and by sharing her experiences with readers. In this sense, the entire collection resonates with the final line of Best’s introductory poem:
This is my story, and I am telling it. (2)
Readers are invited to bear witness to Best’s story, and the story is told through a variety of poetic techniques. Poems on medication side effects or cleansing are typed sideways to symbolize either a change in perspective or the mind-altering effects of quetiapine. “Stop Asking Why I Stayed, 2009-2017” replaces the most common, and stigmatizing, question asked of domestic abuse victims with one that turns the blame back on the abuser: “Why not ask why he held me hostage by abuse?” (61). The poem goes on to offer alternatives to that common and stigmatizing question. The narrator brings up the woman who helped her to change her locks and the landlord who allowed her to throw a bed off the balcony. Questions about these people open up conversations about community and survival rather than reinforcing traditions of victim-blame. “Reporting” describes an attempt to report a rape on a college campus and shows only the policeman’s dialogue. Questions such as “Are you sure you felt threatened?” and “Are you worried you have ruined his career?” stand out even more because the responses are unrecorded (58).
Three untitled poems allow Best to speak back to the government agencies that codify and discipline disability. All three poems are written on official forms from the Ontario Disability Support Program (ODSP). The third poem in this set speaks of the pain of being “written out of [your] own story” through forms and official decisions (59). The second presents the stigma of needing financial help and the narrator’s need to write herself back into the government’s story about her:
When the woman at the bank whispers, ODSP, shame is a
truth whispered. The thrill to speak it back at full volume,
a hope the world can learn to see me as I am. (50)
The first of this trio of poems discusses the real-life circumstances that may underlie or subvert official decisions. Best’s narrator must fill in a form about her significant other’s income while asking: “What if I want to leave him?” (36). Official forms leave no room for complex relationships or for toxic relationships like the one we know Best’s narrator has endured. Official forms also ignore the constraints imposed by the system. Best’s narrator feels financially-dependent on her abuser. She makes reference to her “begging cup” on a form section titled “Part 2: Financial Factors” (35). Her caseworker recommends moving to a rented apartment, but rental would leave her vulnerable to eviction, and she would need to abandon her cats in order to make the move. These official forms and official decisions do not merely fail to take our messy personal lives into account. They may actually make it more difficult for disabled individuals to defend their own lives and freedom. Disability support programs are framed as transparent and charitable social programs and do provide for a certain number of life needs. Best states that she “will take the time to be okay” when she describes first applying for disability (60). Nevertheless, this same system can turn companion animals into hostages, “spousal benefits” into financial dependence, and help into social stigma. Together, these three poems present a powerful indictment of government support programs.
“Wellness Check” describes an official act that is a different kind of violation. The narrator’s aunt asks the police to check on her because she has bipolar and may be feeling unwell. Police “invite” her to the station in a move that Best calls “a choice that wasn’t really one” (48). This act of coercion is backed by the implicit threat of forcible commitment and the implied threat of violence. Best’s narrator later offers “devotions to those that did not make it home” (47). Once at the station, police leave the narrator sitting on the floor for four hours while observing her every move. Wellness checks allegedly show that police care about every member of the community. They allegedly protect public health. In practice, the visit both reminds Best’s narrator that she cannot feel safe in her home and reinforces society-wide stigma. The whole experience leaves her feeling isolated, uncared for, and distinctly unwell. As Best states:
Even after the police sent you home that night, their eyes seem to sear from every reflection. The mind taking shape of what’s left…the sound your heart made in your ears, each successive thought degenerating, a brain funnelled back into itself. (48)
Moreover, the incident’s effects last far beyond the original violation. Best’s narrator adores her niece Nevaeh. Several poems describe Nevaeh attempting to braid her aunt’s hair, falling into her aunt’s arms, curling up beside her aunt on the couch, or learning valuable family lessons. Best’s narrator considers both her niece’s trust and her own ability to be trustworthy an honor. Nevertheless, even these positive interactions are touched by social stigma. As Best puts it:
Nevaeh is nine years old now and still you marvel at being trusted with her. The nagging thought that people might be afraid of you still fresh. (48)
Although the effects of abuse never truly fade, Bad Weather Mammals exists to speak back to the cruelty embedded in our social structure. Best’s poems expose institutional failings and private abuses that badly need public attention. Best’s collection brings these horrors to our attention and refuses to be silenced by their perpetrators. She documents the long-term emotional effects of systematic abuse, subverts official forms, and offers alternatives to cultural discourse that blames the victims. Her work is both a powerful illustration of and a powerful lesson in resistance.
Title: Bad Weather Mammals
Author: Ashley-Elizabeth Best
Publisher: ECW Press
Date: 2024
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About the Reviewer
Kate Champlin (she/her) is a late-deafened adult and a graduate of Ball State University (Indiana). She currently works as a writing tutor and as a contract worker for BK International Education Consultancy, a company whose aim is to normalize the success of underserved students.