In our struggle to communicate, however, words have great advantages over photographs. Words can take us above, below, around and inside the instant that a photograph freezes. Words can take one back or forward in time to tell what an event means, how it is interpreted, how it is to be recorded in the mind of humanity. Pictures do none of this. Words can give one the history of a moment, the action of a moment, and the anticipation of a moment.
Pictures merely freeze the moment.
T he look of utter hatred for America photographed on the face of an Iraqi soldier or a Somali guerrilla is powerful, but it pales in comparison to the vitriolic history and bitter experience of confrontation that words can capture, explore, retrace and record in much the same space given to a news photograph. Every word is a picture. That's what photography is up against. I won't deny that often one photograph is worth a thousand poorly chosen words and thoughtlessly constructed sentences, but a thousand of the best words put together with care and sensitivity and with the skill of a talented thinker and artist can reduce a photograph to the cheap chemistry or electronics that it is. We have tons of pictures of the American Civil War, and they are intriguing.