The day the towers fell, indelible images of plummeting rubble, fire, and falling bodies were imprinted in the memories of people around the world. Images that were caught in the media loop after the disaster and coverage of the attack, its aftermath, and the wars that followed reflected a pervasive tendency to treat these tragic events as spectacle. Though the collapse of the World Trade Center was "the most photographed disaster in history," it failed to yield a single noteworthy image of carnage. Thomas Stubblefield argues that the absence within these spectacular images is the paradox of 9/11 visual culture, which foregrounds the visual experience as it obscures the event in absence, erasure, and invisibility. From the spectral presence of the Tribute in Light to Art Spiegelman's nearly blank New Yorker cover, and from the elimination of the Twin Towers from television shows and films to the monumental cavities of Michael Arad's 9/11 memorial, the void became the visual shorthand for the incident. By examining configurations of invisibility and erasure across the media of photography, film, monuments, graphic novels, and digital representation, Stubblefield interprets the post-9/11 presence of absence as the reaffirmation of national identity that implicitly laid the groundwork for the impending invasions of Iraq and Afghanistan.
I read this book as part of a history course on narratives of 9/11. This book (along with Welcome to the Desert of the Real: Five Essays on September 11 and Related Dates) was the most intellectual/heady of the texts that I read - most were more historical, personal, or sociological in nature. Though this one still had moments where I had to re-read multiple times and still didn't understand what was being said, the larger arguments were far more accessible and understandable than Žižek's.
Stubblefield's analysis of visual culture and media in the wake of 9/11 has some very interesting conclusions and is absolutely stuffed with references to other scholarly works. It is especially strong at pulling other thinkers and authors into conversation with the ideas Stubblefield plays with - even though I needed more explanation and introduction to these other perspectives. Chapter 5, which focuses on art of absence - namely, Art Spiegelman's In the Shadow of No Towers and Michael Arad's Reflecting Absence - is especially good, and does an excellent job of setting up his final conclusion. The connection between visual culture and the rush to war in 2003 is poignant, well-argued, and remains important today.
My critique is mainly with its accessibility and challenge. Though I have a solid grasp on the historical foundation of 9/11, I have no art history training and just a hint of film training. Though Stubblefield does well not to limit his analysis because of readers' non-education, I wish he did more to onboard readers without formal educations. As he rapidly pulls in dozens of philosophers and art historians, I felt left behind from the argument. I struggled to keep up with most of it, which is a shame, because I think what he is saying is compelling. It's also a nitpick, but I wish he discussed news media more than he did in the text.
Overall, a great addition to my research for the course, even though a lot of it went over my head. I'm very grateful for scholarship like this on 9/11. I would recommend this to my professor and some of my classmates. I'd also recommend it to my friend Ripken and my friend Tom, if only because it focuses on popular narratives and cites thoroughly from Adorno.