If you have heard me speak about nature, books, and how I started writing, I may well have cited one of the first books that resonated with me, The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating, by Elisabeth Tova Bailey (Green Books). It’s a small but perfectly formed book about a year in which the author was ill in bed with an energy limiting illness. Disconnected from the world around her, Bailey was gifted a pot plant, on which travelled a small wild snail. Instead of asking her friend, who had brought in the plant, to take the snail back out to the garden, she asked them to bring in a terrarium. From there, the author learned so much about her new companion perched on her bedside cabinet, that she went on to write scientific papers about them. Nobody had before lived in such close proximity with a wild snail. The book unfolds with parallels and comforts the author experiences as she witnesses this life, watching for its preferences and habits, and traces its life cycle through the course of the year. You can read more on my thoughts, on this book and others, in a piece I wrote for The Polyphony in 2020. Prepared as I was planning the anthology, Moving Mountains, it offers some background and context.
In a step beyond the gentle wild snail, Abi Palmer has developed a new body of work that extends and develops ideas of chronic illness, disability, and molluscs. In her new book and show, published in parallel to one another, Slugs: A Manifesto, and Slime Mother, currently at Cardiff art gallery, Chapter, both are gloriously subversive and wonderfully produced. With a focus on slugs, the philosophy embraces ‘taking the path most lubricated’ and is a beautifully Palmer-esque interpretation of the typically idealised nature (and idealised bodies). Published by Makina books, Slugs: A Manifesto, is “at once an addictive art world gossip column, a crip phenomenology, and a glistening, utopian theory of gender, queerness and desire. From these sticky trails the slug emerges as a slippery figure of dissent and persistence, whose very provocation of disgust ensures its survival. Palmer’s ode to the slug — sexy, mucosal and complicated — is essential reading for anyone interested in the headfucky negotiations of being a body.” (Daisy Lafarge).
Slugs and Slime Mother dwell on the repulsion of these homeless molluscs, embracing their creators own regard for them in challenging the societal disregard of slugs and disabled people alike. Makina’s website includes video and photographic footage from the Chapter show here. It asks: “Why be a slug? Slugs: A Manifesto explores a creature that survives by being disgusting. Weaving together manifesto, memoir and poetic language, Abi Palmer considers the politics of space, iridescent queerness, and shapeshifting viscous ‘slug time.’ In the face of a potential apocalypse, Slugs: A Manifesto envisions a future where humanity becomes just a little more sluglike.”
Slime Mother is open until 6th October and is free to attend at Chapter, Cardiff. Speaking about the show, Abi said "I identify with the slug: I too have been regarded with repulsion, no more than a pest stealing spoils from the hardworking farmer. Once I allow myself space to move beyond visceral disgust and phobia, I find space for beauty, fascination and even a glistening reverence for a creature who became more disgusting as a means of survival."
Slugs: A Manifesto is available in the UK, Ireland, Germany and the US, as well as online - link here to the publisher for outlets.
This follows Abi’s work in consideration of her house cats, Cha-U-Kao and Lola Lola, and her fear for them missing out on experiencing the outdoors. In response to lockdown and her own regard for the climate crisis, she created the weather for her cats through a series of films in Abi Palmer Invents the Weather - the transcripts and introduction from which are included in Moving Mountains.
There are a series of videos from Slime Mother, including Abi’s film included in the exhibition. These are BSL interpreted, audio described, and captioned, a link can be accessed here. Abi Palmer will be in conversation with Nathan Smith at Chapter on Thursday 3rd October. There is a link here to buy tickets and the event will be recorded and made available online afterwards.
There is also currently a competition to win some sluggy merch. This is from Abi Palmer’s instagram account:
For a chance to win, post your hottest, slimiest or sluggiest photo on your Instagram feed with the caption #HotSlugSummerNeverEnds. Tag @abipalmerbot and @chapterartscentre in the picture before 5 October at 11.59pm GMT.
We will award a prize for each category:
🥟 HOTTEST SLUG award
🥟 SLIMIEST SLUG award
🥟 SLUGGIEST SLUG award
We’d love to see pictures from your visit to Slime Mother, or you reading a copy of SLUGS: A Manifesto in sluggy restful places, but this is not compulsory - we invite you to use any hot, slimy, sluggy ideas and inspiration of your own! Any interpretation of hot, slimy and/or sluggy is accepted. The judge won’t be Abi so you are welcome to enter if you’re a friend!
We will announce the winners on the last day of SLIME MOTHER (October 6th) and contact you shortly after to choose your prize.
T&Cs: competition closes 11:59 GMT on 5 October 2024. The winners will be announced on or around 6th October. No purchase is required but you must include the hashtag #HotSlugSummerNeverEnds and tag @abipalmer_bot AND @chapterartscentre for your entry to be recognised. Abi will be reposting tagged pictures on her own feed over September and October. More than one entry is permitted. All decisions are final.
Wishing you all a mollusc-filled sluggy weekend, may you find your own most lubricated path.
Thanks for sharing all this. Really enjoyed your article on Polyphony, and the other pieces it links to. I also loved Ali Palmer's piece in Moving Mountains, and her videos on line. So creative. I'll have to check out her sluggy work - I, too, have written about and pondered 'slug time.'