What Do
Pictures Want?
by W.J.T. Mitchell
University of Chicago Press, Chicago,
2005
380pp., illus. 94 b/w, 16 col. Trade,
$35.00; paper, $22.50
ISBN: 0-266-53245-3; ISBN: 0-226-53248-8.
Reviewed by Eugene Thacker
School of Literature, Communication &
Culture
Georgia Institute of Technology
eugene.thacker@lcc.gatech.edu
Unintentionally, Ive been reading
over W.J.T. Mitchells book What
Do Pictures Want? at the same time
that Ive been watching 1970s horror
films about demonic possession. Now, Mitchells
book does not discuss and is not "about"
demonology. However, he does propose that
we understand images as "not merely
signs for living things but signs
as living things" (6). Mitchells
analyses cover a wide range of images,
from popular science fiction to contemporary
painting, and the movement of his thinking
is consistently interested in the proliferation,
circulation, and polysemy of imagesthrough
images. But, since I had just watched
The Omen, Rosemarys Baby,
or Prophecy, I couldnt help
reading this notion of "images as
living things" in connection with
the extensive iconography of demonic possession:
not only in the plethora of religious
images (the cross, upright or inverted),
but also in the literal and horrific birthing
of a particular images, that of the demon
or the image-of-evil made flesh. The image
that epitomizes this is the brief scene
in The Exorcist where young Regan,
possessed by a demon, is taken to the
hospital, where menacing medical machines
engulf, surround, and pierce her body,
probing with futile accuracy for the locus
of something that exists but cannot be
"imaged." Of course, Im
taking a very subjective and divergent
"spin" on this book, and this
is perhaps unfair to the breadth and acuity
of Mitchells points. Let us back
up, then.
To many, Mitchell is well-known as a scholar
who has shaped the field if visual studies.
His earlier books, such as Picture
Theory, have become standards in college
classes on art history, art theory, and
cultural studies. Mitchells new
book, What Do Pictures Want?, is
both an extension of his previous work,
as well as a kind overview of the ideas
that have occupied him for some years.
What Do Pictures Want? opens with
a statement and a proposal. The statement
that Mitchell broadly puts forth is that
"pictures, including world pictures,
have always been with us, and there is
no getting beyond pictures, much less
world pictures, to a more authentic relationship
with Being, with the Real, or with the
World" (xiv). In a hyper-post-non-modern
context, such statements are not unusual
in themselves, especially given the extensive
tradition in cultural theory of thinking
about spectacle, simulacra, surveillance,
the gaze, and so forth. What Mitchell
adds that is refreshingly unique is a
proposal: "
images are like
living organisms; living organisms are
best described as things that have desires
(for example, appetites, needs, demands,
drives); therefore, the question of what
pictures want is inevitable" (11).
In a style that is at once disarmingly-simple
and yet thought-provoking, Mitchell asks
us to confront the question of the "vitality"
of images, in all the polyvalent sense
of the term. As Mitchell notes, there
is "an incorrigible tendency to lapse
into vitalistic and animistic ways of
speaking when we talk about images"
(2). And yet, this lapse does not necessarily
make images more substantial or more "real":
"they [images] are phantasmatic,
immaterial entities that, when incarnated
in the world, seem to possess agency,
aura, a "mind of their own . . ."
(105).
However, behind Mitchells proposal
that we understand images as "living,"
we should not assume that our reference
is now biology rather than culture, theology
rather than politics. Even the most empirical
voices of dissent begin to unravel on
this question of vitalism: An image is
a living organism. Whats a living
organism? An entity that self-regulates,
grows and dies, and reproduces, and so
forth. But even our most fundamental biological
concepts deploy a whole host of images,
from the divinely-designed creaturely
being, to the body-as-machine, to the
immunological body as a kind of warring
nation-state. "Life," at this
level, seems to simply be defined as the
horizon (or rather, the vanishing point)
of our ability to think about life. Mitchells
proposal is also not a suggestion that
we jettison politics in favor of a new
kind of mysticism. His methodological
starting points are twofold: that we rethink
any exclusive reliance on a fully-agential,
autonomous subject (yes, humans with particular
interests make images, but what is the
context of that "making?"),
and that in doing this we move from an
emphasis on meaning (what does it mean?)
to an emphasis on desire (what do they
want?).
If the notion of an image as "living"
seems vague, then the structure of What
Do Pictures Want? does a great deal
to add shape to Mitchells proposal.
The book is divided into three parts,
each of which takes up different aspects
of visual culture: "image" (the
likeness that appears), "object"
(that in which it appears or that which
it points to), and "medium"
(that through which it appears). Throughout,
what is at stake in the vitality of images
is their very ability to appear, the poiesis
of appearance (which would also include
the ability of images to disappear, to
reappear, and to circulate). In each section,
Mitchell sorts out specific conceptual
problems related to the study of images.
In a writing style that is clear yet meditative,
concise yet open-ended, and, above all,
jargon-free, Mitchell unpacks the multi-faceted
"life of images," from media
images (Dolly the sheep; 9/11; Videodrome),
to political propaganda, to Romanticisms
engagement with nature and the animal
image, to his single-chapter studies of
sculptor Antony Gormley, photographer
Robert Frank, the films of Spike Lee,
and "art in the age of biocybernetic
reproduction." One of the richest
segments in the book is Mitchells
elaboration of the differences and relations
between "icon," "fetish,"
and "totem."
In a sense, there is a double-consciousness
in "life": on the one hand,
only specific things are alive (the organism,
the animal, the plant). But on the other
hand, everything is alive, even our machines,
even that which is "artificial"
life. Perhaps one of the responses to
Mitchells question is that images
want to be aliveand perhaps
the greatest challenge from this is thinking
this inanimate, nonhuman "life"
outside of anthropomorphism . . .