Q.Physically impaired people have to suffer pain and a sense of alienation due to the behaviour of others. It is ironical that people who should be treated with empathy are either avoided or pitied. Discuss. (On The Face Of It)

Concept: Discrimination and social alienation of the physically disabled; the irony of societal response versus genuine need.

The play On the Face of It by Susan Hill dramatizes how physical impairment triggers two equally damaging reactions—avoidance born of discomfort and pity born of condescension—neither of which acknowledges the disabled person's full humanity. Derry, scarred by acid, internalizes society's revulsion: people stare, whisper, or offer hollow sympathy ("poor boy"), reducing him to his disfigurement rather than seeing his intelligence and feelings. Mr. Lamb counters this by refusing both pity and avoidance; he treats Derry as an equal, sharing his own experience of a tin leg without self-pity, demonstrating that empathy means engagement, not charity. …

The central tension in Susan Hill's one-act play rests on a simple but devastating truth: society's reaction to disability often inflicts more harm than the disability itself. Derry, the fourteen-year-old protagonist with an acid-scarred face, does not suffer primarily from his disfigurement—he suffers from the mirror that other people hold up to him, a mirror that reflects either revulsion or saccharine sympathy. Both responses strip him of his humanity.

The irony Hill dramatizes is structural. Logic and compassion both suggest that someone dealing with a physical challenge deserves understanding, acceptance, and inclusion. Yet the play shows us two opposite failures that arrive at the same cruel outcome: isolation.

The Two Faces of Cruelty

1. Avoidance — the instinct to look away

People cross the street when they see Derry. Mothers pull their children closer. A woman kisses him out of pity and then washes her mouth, as if his disfigurement were contagious. This avoidance is visceral, rooted in discomfort with difference. It tells Derry, louder than words, that he is other—something to be feared or found repulsive.

The psychological damage is immediate. Derry internalizes these reactions:

"They're afraid of me… I'm not afraid of them, but they're afraid of me."

He begins to see himself through their eyes, adopting their disgust as his own identity. The avoidance becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy: he withdraws, becomes bitter, and the isolation deepens.

2. Pity — the gentler cruelty

The alternative is no better. When people do engage, they often do so from a position of condescension. They speak in hushed, careful tones. They offer reassurances that ring hollow ("It's not as bad as you think"). They treat him as a victim, not a person.

Pity robs Derry of agency. It assumes he is broken, that his life is inherently tragic, that he needs to be managed rather than met as an equal. Mr. Lamb's bluntness is the antidote:

"There's plenty of people with two arms and two legs and eyes and ears who are more handicapped than you or me."

Mr. Lamb refuses both avoidance and pity. He treats Derry's face as a fact, not a tragedy. He does not flinch, does not over-compensate. This simple act of normalcy is revolutionary for Derry.

Why the Irony Cuts Deep

The irony is that empathy—the very thing disabled individuals need—is precisely what society withholds. Empathy requires seeing the person, not the disability. It requires listening, not projecting. It requires equality, not hierarchy.

Instead, society offers two degraded substitutes:

Both deny the disabled person their full humanity. Both create what Derry describes as "a tin face"—a mask he must wear because the world will not see past the surface.

The Play's Argument …