Nearly all of the characters have ‘comical’ disabilities of some kind. From Harty’s regular palpitations to bones dropping randomly off the Wyrdy-Grobs’ skeletons, we’re invited to laugh at the strangeness of imperfect bodies. Sick minds fare no better: Paperwhite’s depression and anorexia and Drek’s arguably manic-depressive episodes are likewise mocked. The Worm and Magspie, clearly the only two working-class characters, are shown as having ‘caused’ their own illnesses: The Worm by overeating and Magspie by stealing objects too heavy to lift. This, of course, furthers the stereotype that the (criminal) poor have only themselves to blame for conditions of obesity and chronic pain.
The language used throughout the cartoon is consistently problematic. Barely an episode passes without one character calling another ‘madsick’ or ‘gruesog’, meaning mentally unstable/ugly. Casual cruelty is endemic: Drek capitalising on Harty’s lack of legs and kicking him like a football; Magspie taunting Paperwhite for not pulling herself together and making the most of her unhappy life; all the other characters laughing at the Wyrdy-Grobs’ delusion that they remain healthy and beautiful, in spite of being reduced to literal piles of bones.
It would not be going too far to say that, just as healthy visitors were able to visit the eighteenth-century mental hospital Bedlam to mock and abuse the patients, we are invited to jeer at the unhappy inmates of The Ink Black Heart.
Strike reached sideways for his whisky, drank some more, then flipped over the page and read on with the glass balanced on his chest.
At the top of the new page, Robin had written: Row between Anomie and Edie after Anomie retweeted the blog about disabilities. Note Kea Niven joining in.
With an effort, Strike now succeeded in recalling what Robin had told him earlier, about the girl who believed Edie Ledwell had stolen her ideas for The Ink Black Heart.
Anomie @AnomieGamemaster
Decent analysis of Greedie Fedwell’s weird fascination with disabilities and ugliness:
www.penofjustice/WhyTheInkBlackHear.…
Anomie @AnomieGamemaster
replying to @AnomieGamemaster
Extra fun fact: Fedwell’s foster brother’s disabled. Apparently Lord Wyrdy-Grob’s walk was based on his
Edie Ledwell @EdLedDraws
replying to @AnomieGamemaster
That’s a fucking lie
Anomie @AnomieGamemaster
replying to @EdLedDraws
where’d you get the idea for his walk?
Edie Ledwell @EdLedDraws
replying to @AnomieGamemaster
I don’t animate Lord Wyrdy-Grob, Josh does
Anomie @AnomieGamemaster
replying to @EdLedDraws
sure he does. Seriously, have you ever considered not lying?
Edie Ledwell @EdLedDraws
replying to @AnomieGamemaster
It isn’t a fucking lie and you need to leave my friends and family alone
Anomie @AnomieGamemaster
replying to @EdLedDraws
Says the woman who claims she’s got no family and has literally no friends left, because she’s fucked them all over
Edie Ledwell @EdLedDraws
replying to @AnomieGamemaster
You’re full of shit
Anomie @AnomieGamemaster
replying to @EdLedDraws
Seriously, keep insulting fans online. It’s a great look
Kea Niven @realPaperwhite
replying to @AnomieGamemaster @EdLedDraws
She doesn’t give a shit about fans, all she cares about is £££ and her own disgusting agenda #ableism
Kea Niven @realPaperwhite
replying to @realPaperwhite @AnomieGamemaster @EdLedDraws
Her vile cartoon promotes the idea that disabled people are ‘other’/laughable/strange #spoonie #ableism
Yasmin Weatherhead @YazzyWeathers
replying to @realPaperwhite @AnomieGamemaster @EdLedDraws
and she still hasn’t sat down with any disability group to discuss fans’ valid concerns #ableism
Lepine’s Disciple @Lep1nesDisciple
replying to @YazzyWeathers @realPaperwhite @EdLedDraws @penjustwrites @AnomieGamemaster
what’s your disability? Being a land whale?
Robin’s notes on the Pen of Justice ended here. Strike set down the pages, drained his glass of whisky, stubbed out his cigarette, then picked up his phone again and went to examine Kea Niven’s Twitter page.
After noting how pretty Kea was, he accidentally pressed the link to her tumblr page with his thumb.
Strike, who’d never heard of tumblr, found himself momentarily confused as to what he was looking at. Kea’s page was covered in images and short written pieces, some re-blogged from other accounts, others written or drawn by herself. At the top was a picture of many silver spoons and the legend:
Disabled artist – fashion, music and bird lover – life right now is mostly about being sick.
CF – fibromyalgia – POTs – allodynia – I need more spoons…
Strike had no idea what the need for spoons referred to and assumed it was a piece of whimsy, possibly from some book or film he didn’t know. He read Kea’s post about being forced to return to live with her mother, then began to scroll through examples of her art, which was heavily anime-influenced. There were many re-blogged statements about chronic illness (‘the hardest pill to swallow is some things aren’t fixed by mind over matter’, ‘letting go of who you were meant to be isn’t easy’) and a multitude of quotations, usually set against pastel backgrounds:
Stab the body and it heals, but injure the heart and the wound lasts a lifetime – Mineko Iwasaki
When you give someone your whole heart and he doesn’t want it, you cannot take it back. It’s gone forever – Sylvia Plath
All changes pass me like a dream,
I neither sing nor pray;
And thou art like the poisonous tree
That stole my life away – Elizabeth Siddal
Strike kept reading until he found a couple of short pieces written by Kea herself.
My mother, a woman who breeds parrots and is allergic to feathers, is bitching about my poor life choices. OK, Karen.
A little below this was:
It’s fine not to ‘work’ or to ‘achieve’. Feeling guilty that you aren’t able to do either is the result of internalised capitalism.
It’s fine to ask for accommodations. Your assessment of your own body’s needs should not depend on how ‘sick’ other people believe you to be.
It’s fine to use a mobility device if it makes your life easier, even if it wasn’t prescribed or advised by a doctor.
Strike’s gaze moved unconsciously to the drawer where he kept the collapsible walking stick Robin had once bought him, when his amputated leg had been giving him so much trouble he’d barely been able to walk. He didn’t like using it, firstly, because the stick added another recognisable feature to an appearance that was already distinctive and in danger of becoming too recognisable, and secondly, because it invited enquiries and sympathy that he found generally unwelcome.