Cotton Fingers review: A movement not a moment
“Theres always someone there to judge you, so you might as well do what you know is right”
Aoife, the protagonist states in this timely art piece, Cotton Fingers, played by Amy Molloy.
Abortion; a very charged subject with very polarised views. We all know the debate, one is against, the other is for the woman’s right to choose. Cotton Fingers strips away all that noise and focuses on the one element that truly matters, the woman. The lengths a woman goes through to terminate a pregnancy in the North of Ireland, the mental torture, the fear, the stigma, the coverups you have to make so that no-one finds out.
Welsh novelist and playwright Rachel Trezise’s 75-minute one woman show, was commissioned by National Theatre Wales last year, it formed one part of a series of monologues celebrating the National Health Service on its 70 birthday. The fact that the NHS funds Northern Irish women to travel to other parts of the UK for abortions is touched on in Aoife’s story: as a teenager from Belfast who never made it out of the estate, she has no other means to pay for the journey.
“Rich people have abortions, poor people have to have children,” is the line that expounds Trezise’s central point about class and opportunity and the harsh reality of Northern Ireland in 2019.
Cotton Fingers pays a tribute to the uplifting spirit of Irish/Northern Irish people, even in the darkest hour. Aoife waiting in the waiting room of the doctors after she gives a urine sample in an aluminium dish that reminds her of the steak pies from her local bakery, she flicks through Cosmopolitan magazine reading an article about what nail polish is best for masturbation- Gel polish if you’re wondering. Laughs fill the room until she flicks to the back of the magazine to where the helplines are- all the abortion numbers are scribbled out. A sobering end to the laughter, reminding us that there is no escaping the pro-life activists in this country, even when you’re just passing time reading a glossy mag.
Four conjoined chairs is the only prop on stage, but is utilised in the most profound ways, especially when Aoife unleashes a stream of consciousness about the guilt and shame that would be brought on her family by choosing to terminate her very unplanned pregnancy. She holds the chairs up on one side leaning it on her shoulder, subtly replicating Jesus carrying the cross. A nod to the religious constraints in Northern Ireland. But for Aoife, she is carrying the the weight of waiting rooms, the airports, the trains, the boats, the hospital bed far away from home and the guilt and shame her home land puts on her for controlling her future.
This one woman show is an important play everyone must see, to understand the importance of free safe and legal abortions, and to understand how strict Northern Irish laws are when it comes to women’s reproductive rights- i.e. non-existent. Northern Ireland has become increasingly isolated from neighbouring countries over its abortion policy. England and Wales gave women more control over their own bodies with the Abortion Act in 1967, and the Republic of Ireland voted to repeal draconian abortion laws last year.
This isn’t just a review about a play, this is the story of 28 girls and women a week travelling from the north of Ireland to access healthcare. As Aoife says “This isn’t a hurdle to get over, this is a journey you have to go through”.
Touring until 8 June. Then at the Edinburgh fringe.