somnolent deluxe

cover photo Unidentified child prisoner of the Khmer Rouge photographed before execution at the Tuol Sleng torture centre.

I'm reading the new book by Susie Linfield, "the cruel radiance". An eye opening and powerful argument for the importance of unedited and unsanitised photojournalism in an age where spin and PR is as much a part of war as the brutality it neatly explains away.

Since the early days of photography, critics have told us that photos of political violence - of torture, mutilation, and death - are exploitative, deceitful, even pornographic. To look at these images is voyeuristic; to turn away is a gesture of respect. With "The Cruel Radiance", Susie Linfield attacks those ideas head-on, arguing passionately that viewing such photographs - and learning to see the people in them - is an ethically and politically necessary act that connects us to our modern history of violence and probes our capacity for cruelty. Contending with critics from Walter Benjamin and Bertolt Brecht to Susan Sontag and the postmoderns - and analyzing photographs from such events as the Holocaust, China's Cultural Revolution, and recent terrorist acts - Linfield explores the complex connection between photojournalism and the rise of human rights ideals. In the book's concluding section, she examines the indispensable work of Robert Capa, James Nachtwey, and Gilles Peress, and asks how photography has - and should - respond to the increasingly nihilistic trajectory of modern warfare.

A bracing and unsettling book, "The Cruel Radiance" convincingly demonstrates that if we hope to alleviate political violence, we must first truly understand it - and to do that, we must begin to look.