I think it’s fair to say that not too many albums begin with songs named after the Greek term for robust equanimity characterised by the ongoing freedom from distress and worry, but Hannah Rose Platt breaks from this on Fragile Creatures with ‘Ataraxia’ – it paints a sardonic portrait of what it the ideal post-WW2 housewife would look and act like. “Petticoats, pinafores, children at the hip/smiling like a waxwork/behind pink velvet lips”.
So our journey begins on this, Hannah Rose Platt’s third studio album, which follows her penchant for a record with a strong conceptual element throughout, with Fragile Creatures tackling the thorny and complicated subject of the history of women and medicine. Matters covered include the observations of a 15th century midwife on the lead single ‘Curious Mixtures’, the staggering tale of Anne Greene in ‘Rest in Persistence’ to reflections on the gaps between the treatment of male and female patients in ‘Young Men Need Their Wives’.
‘Curious Mixtures’ also lays bare a stark reminder to the dangers of the midwifery profession back at a time when they were often likened to witches, with them in potential danger at all times. ‘You could burn for this”, Platt warns at one stage. The looping melodies throughout not only this song, but the album, which at times can seem both beautiful and claustrophobic within seconds of one another, is brought to the fore by the brilliant production and collaboration Platt forms with Ed Harcourt, with the album recorded at Abbey Road.
Before I forget, I must tell you more about what makes the story of Anne Greene so staggering and so wonderfully told in ‘Rest in Persistence’. Greene, a 17th century maid hanged in 1650 after being convicted of infanticide when she was raped by her master’s nephew, was taken away for scientific experiments only to be found to still be breathing and was resuscitated by being placed in a bed next to another woman to warm her, going on to be pardoned through the hand of god and keep her coffin as a souvenir.
Talking of extraordinary songs extraordinarily told, it would be amiss of me not to mention ‘Radiant’, which tells of the women of New Jersey, Connecticut and Illinois who worked in factories making glow in the dark clocks and instruments for ships and planes, and who commonly became known as The Radium Girls who ended up with radium poisoning having been encouraged to “lick dip paint/over brushstrokes/hands and face” and suffered from cancer, necrosis of the jaw and anaemia as a result of them earning one cent per dial.
What all the stories and songs tell, and there’s too many to list each one here, is that the medical world would look very different if men had to suffer the conditions that women have had to face, not only through history, but through to today and beyond. Platt’s songs, like in the closing ‘Epilogue: The Wandering Womb Ballet’ often tell how medicine is led and governed by men, who have scant regard for the trials and tribulations that women around the world and throughout history have to go through on a daily basis.
It’s a stark reminder that things remain too much today like they did in the past, and we’ve learnt very little or not cared enough, to look after the health and wellbeing of one half of the world’s population. This is an album that cannot and shouldn’t be ignored, and lessons should be learnt from the truths and tales spoken within the lyrics with the beautiful melodies a welcome bonus along the way.