by Sarah Schoenbrun

Ekphrasis

I wanted to write a minute-by-minute account of the experience of getting mugged, probably because I was trying to make sense of something that happened very quickly and felt both significant and senseless — a random act. I can’t remember how or why I first thought to pair the narrative with the photographs, but in doing so, I was of course trying to make something about it meaningful or at least identify a theme that persisted in my thoughts during those few minutes. Reflection is a big motif in Claude Cahun’s photographs (mirrors, twins, self-portraits, et cetera), and I wanted those self-reflective images to reiterate my own observations in the essay — I see a teenager who I assume is cutting class like I used to cut class; I see a woman my age bike by; I see a photograph at the Art Institute of Chicago of Cahun lying on the ground and see myself lying on the ground, etc. “Perspective” is the standard word we use to describe seeing the world from our own singular point of view and to some extent as a reflection of ourselves, but Cahun conveys something more dramatic — more claustrophobic and troubling — about perspective in her work. I hoped to capture that feeling for my essay.

Sarah Schoenbrun grew up in the San Francisco Bay area and has an MFA from the University of Arizona, where she served as the nonfiction editor of Sonora Review. She lives in Seattle, Washington.

 

Originally appeared in the online supplement to the Beyond Category issue 43.2-44.1