Picture of the dead.
The Victorian World has gone mad I tell you. “But when was it ever sane?” One may ask.
Picture this handsome youth, taking away prematurely out of this World by Hades. See how peaceful he sits, how somber he looks.
This beautiful angel will never grow old and will never see everyone else die around him because he is deceased. How cruel and bitter Nature is, to take sweet life away from such beauty. He must have only been 17.
I also, will never grow old nor die; as long as I live. However, the thought of “when” never escaped my mind. It has been years now since my pact with who knows who, has halted my youth, beauty and the inevitable death. Unlike this youth, I have watched many die around me; young and old alike, while I enjoyed health, vitality, youth and beauty. This picture that you see of this young man, is an attempt of the modern Victorian with the trend of spirit photography and spiritualism to keep this youth stay young and pure forever.
They have failed and I have not!
I have taken many photos of myself with others and many more alone. Time is very harsh yet interesting when one stares at his photo years later and wonder where has his youth gone…and why?
I have the luxury of no such misuse of thought. I have accepted my fate, on that one fateful day when I did notice a halt in my aging. Everyone else has noticed it as well, hence I to be the talk of town.
Lord Henry makes it his duty to often give me back handed compliments. I can not help to think..…or know that he is jealous and his desire to know why I haven’t decayed…..I mean aged like him.
Only if he knew, then I would have to say “Now that you know. You must die!”
Sometimes I do envy the dead. I do mean the ones who have died in their youth. Imagine that you will never grow old and forever be remembered as the red red rose on it’s blooming days. Furthermore, the dead have no business in knowing what the living thinks of them and their past deeds. I grow weary of gossips. Consequently, I often go to the East End of London where I rule as Lord and King over these peasants.
Now, back to Londoners being obsessed with Spiritualism and the dead.
Don’t they know that one do not have to look young forever without dying first? Or was it fortunate of me? A strike of luck! Why am I so special that a particular entity, chose me to bask in my youth for a non disclosing period?
Well they know that. They know once their likeness is captured into the camera, it will also capture their youth. On paper.
Ah ha! I have the best bargain.
The invention of the ( daguerreotype ) photography in 1826 by French Scientist Joseph Nicephore was highly praised by many as one of men’s greatest inventions, proven that men is God’s greatest achievement on Earth; while for others, it was an abomination.
The Amish and countless other religious groups would agree with the latter statement.
I came into this World when such invention already had a foot hold. It is rather exciting to go have a photo taking then to stand for days on end having a portrait painted. Nevertheless, no photography can ever replace my love affair with Basil’s painting of me.
By the time of the invention of the carte de visite, by André A.E. Disdéri in 1854, many were able to have multiple prints to be made from a single negative, that could be mailed and be used as postcards.
Postmortem photography as it’s called became widely spread amongst the elites then the average men and women. As eerie as it may seem to you, postmortem photography served as a keepsake to remember the deceased.
What shall I be remembered as when I too pass away?
My friends and foe may never know, for that the dead aren’t privileged to remember at all.
