It seems as if he touches each word with his fingertips. Each photograph tells the smallest part of a much bigger story.Īnd then I love Barthes, who writes more like a poet than a philosopher. Each photograph resides in a prism: the intent of a pose, the person caught unawares, the gaze trapped in time. I suppose I’m drawn to commentary of photography because photographs provide such a moment for existential reflection-such an everlasting moment (a paradoxical phrase that in itself defines photography’s poignancy). Susan Sontag’s On Photography, Henri Cartier-Bresson’s The Mind’s Eye, and now Roland Barthes’ Camera Lucida. I have a love affair with books on photography.
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