The Post-Mortem Era

Preface:

A picture is worth a thousand words; the same can be said for post-mortem photography. In a time where cameras are easily accessible, with anyone being able to capture any moment on film, it is understandable why the idea of taking and preserving a chilling photograph of a newly deceased lived one can seem creepy and even downright mortifying. At the time, however, this was seen as comforting. In fact, modern research has shown that the idea behind post-mortem photography is actually a perfectly healthy coping mechanism. Especially during a time when death was so common (particularly among infants and children).

The photos were also taken at a time when photography was extremely expensive, and when many families, therefore, didn’t have other photos of themselves or their loved ones. Thus, photographing them as corpses was a way of capturing something to remember them by. Post-mortem photography became popular during a time when scientific discoveries were beginning to counteract religious beliefs. Therefore, many people believed that if there wasn’t an afterlife than a part of them or their loved ones could still exist forever in a photograph. However, some people went as far as to say that post-mortem photography was dangerous, in that it could physically harm or shorten the life of those having their picture taken.

As the style became extremely popular in the 1850’s, commercial photographers would try to make the pictures more beautiful, the poses more life-like, and generally create the impression that the corpses were in a peaceful slumber. Sometimes, eyes were even painted over the closed eyelids to give the impression that they were open. When a child would pass away, it was not uncommon for the family to place their favorite belonging, or toy next to them while their picture was being taken. In other instances, their pictures would be taken with objects that commonly symbolized life or death. “A drum symbolized the beating of the drum of death, of the end of life” (Burn). Many of the photos were taken within houses, because of how common it was for people to pass away in their homes instead of hospitals.

After looking at many post-mortem photographs, I have been unable to find a backstory to explain any of them. Therefore, I have crafted a fictional story based on a post-mortem image I found. Through doing so, I wanted to create something that explored the eeriness of the style, but also create a window into the mindset of those who embraced post-mortem photography during this time. Because when it comes down to it, post-mortem photography has good intentions. It represents a need to capture a moment when someone is both here and gone. “It’s a sign to hold on, and to let go” (Wise).

Tragic Tales of the Post-Mortem Age

Story 1: The Story of the Gails

The rain pitter-pattered against the hard, cold rooftop of the Victorian house on a cold winter morning in February. Despite the dank, cold rain that coated this small town, it was much more pleasant when compared to the gloomy misery contained inside the Victorian home of the Gails. The dark, still house echoed with the shrieks and wails of Lucy Gails. The endless screams rattled the already spinning and terrified head of James Gails, who found it difficult to think about his deceased son, Charlie Gails who had been dead now for 5 days.

That night James and Lucy sat at each end of a dinner table which felt as though it put miles of distance between them. While partially unaware of his mournful wife, James spent so much of that cold evening thinking about his son. Every so often, he would temporarily break away from his daze and would be reminded that he was sitting at a dinner table and would then take a sip of his soup. Doing such a task is challenging when one struggles to maintain an appetite. Especially when the taste of the soup seemed reminiscent of corpses. The couple had exchanged some words both at the dinner table and over the past five days, but not many. It was difficult when neither one felt interested in engaging in a conversation.

“James,” Lucy said with a quiver. Her voice sounded fragile, and as though it were hanging by a thread.
James snapped out of his daze and looked up.

“It’s hard enough as it is. Don’t you think we could talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about,” James said almost absently. Lucy was of course hurt herself but still tried or rather struggled to find the next few words.

“Well, I’ve been doing some thinking, and I think it would be a good idea if we got some help.”

“Ok, what were you thinking dear,” James said, not anticipating what she would say next.

“Maybe we could get a photographer to-”

The mere utterance of a shameful word like photographer immediately grabbed James’s attention and forced him to address her almost involuntarily with a solid “No!”

Ever since his passing, any memory James had of his son felt like nothing more than poison in his veins. The mere thought of his name hurt too much to think about. However, the idea of taking a photo with the thing that had once been his son was outright psychotic. What psychopath could have conducted such an idea as this, and thought that it had good intentions? A grotesque work of art meant to remind people of the dead bodies of their friends and relatives. How could he bare to even be around his son after what had happened? He couldn’t, and wouldn’t.

Then Lucy replied, “well I guess I just thought, well you might find comfort in, well, this is just a huge mess isn’t it.” She got up abruptly. “I love you James, but your obstinate attitude isn’t helping at all.” She then made her way out of the room with her head resting in her hands.

Later that night, while on his way to bed, he couldn’t help but hear his wife in the room where he lie. But couldn’t bring himself to join her. To his miserable bedroom, he went. He lie awake for hours that night, staring mindlessly at the ceiling. He hadn’t slept well these past several nights. He didn’t feel like he was in his room, or within his house where he and his family had made so many fond memories in. He didn’t feel that he was lying next to his wife. He felt instead like he was somewhere dark. Somewhere where the earth was cold. Where nothing mattered or was apparent but him and the cold dread that plagued his fragile self. After what felt like an eternity, he finally drifted off to sleep.

He woke up sometime after the sky transitioned from what was a black abyss to a dreary shade of grey. He made his way downstairs and picked up a copy of the daily newspaper Lucy had grabbed for him and sat down to read it. As he did so, he saw a circle drawn around an ad regarding a post-mortem photographer. Directly below it was a note from Lucy saying briefly that she truly believed it truly would help. Then James remembered what had happened between him and his wife the previous night. He instantly felt bad and as though he had hurt his wife’s feelings at the dinner table. Still, though, his decision remained. He would ensure that the photo was not taken. He left his home at once and made his way to work.

The past several days seemed to blend in with one another, with each one feeling exactly like the last. Despite the fact he was firmly certain that he would never take the picture with his deceased son, the idea nonetheless pestered and nagged at him throughout the day. He went through that gray cloudy afternoon absent-minded with no idea of how he was going to cope with the loss of his son.
Just as the sky began fading from a dreary gray to a dull blue, he arrived home. One of the first things he noticed as he stepped through the door was the newspaper sitting on the table exactly where he had left it. Once again, the idea found its way into his mind and continued nagging at him. When Lucy saw the paper, she once again addressed the ad.

“James,” she said softly. “Please, let’s just try it.”

James didn’t know how to reply. He didn’t want to reply. He needed to think about it. He hated the idea. But he didn’t want to continue living with the pain. He didn’t want Lucy to live through the pain. And for how much longer would they mourn? Would it be worth it to just try it? As sickening as the idea was, could it give them a sense of closure?

James finally looked at Lucy and said, “Sure, we’ll try it”.

By the afternoon of the next day, the photographer had arrived at the Gail’s residence. James and Lucy let him in. Lucy couldn’t be happier to see him. James felt ready to meet the man who had made a career out of capturing such horrid moments. He was quickly let in and introduced himself as Thomas Solomon. He was invited to have a seat by James who was eager to get to know him. Shortly after the conversation started, the still-skeptical James asked about the man’s line of work.
“So, how does photography inspire you?” James asked.

Mr. Solomon simply replied, “Well, I’ve always loved photography, and the ability to capture certain moments on film. It’s also very rewarding knowing that I’ve made so many people happy with my work.”
That last sentence brought James to a question he had been waiting dreadfully long for an answer to but was still a little unsure of how to word it.

“Does your work ever hurt them? You’re clients. …Emotionally I mean” James said while stuttering.

“The memories that come from the photo?” Mr. Solomon asked.

“Yes,” James said.

“Why of course Mr. Gails.” Mr. Solomon said effortlessly. He went on. “I like to take photos that allow my clients to feel something. To feel some form of emotion. And don’t get me wrong, not every emotion is going to tickle. But I find embracing grief through these photos as a great way to capture the sweet memory of a deceased loved one and to move on from it. Photography is an art that can satisfy a need to hold on to a memory of a loved one. It can provide peace of mind, and thus allow the mournful family members to better cope with the tragic loss. Does that make sense Mr. Gails?”
“I think so sir, thank you” James replied.

“It’s true. I can’t tell you how many clients I’ve had come to me for help throughout my career. I’ve even had people come to me to take pictures of their deceased pets. But almost every single client I’ve had finds satisfaction from experiencing some form of closure” Mr. Solomon said. Not many more words were spoken before the group got to work.

The process seemed unusually short. The picture was taken, and just like that, the man of the bizarre profession was gone. As soon as the conversation ended, everyone got to work at once. Thomas asked James to grab a sentimental item of Charlie’s. Something that brought him hours of joy. Nothing could be a more obvious choice than the rocking horse that had been given to him by James only 2 years ago. Everyone including Charlie was dressed up very nicely as if for a funeral. Thomas wanted Charlie to appear more lively, so he propped the boy on the horse, and then proceeded to paint over his eyelids. James grimaced at the sight of this.

When all was said and done, James thought about the events of that day over and over in bed that night. For the first time in almost an entire week, he felt as though he was lying next to his wife in his own bedroom in his own warm house. Fortunately, sleep came easily. That night James sunk into a deep, comforting slumber. It felt like the first and finest amount of sleep he had gotten in what felt like ages. He didn’t dream much but still slept like a rock.

The next day, James awoke to a warm ambiance that filled his room. Lucy was already gone and had left a letter saying she felt much better than she had felt all week. She had gone down to the market to pick up some groceries and would be back by noon. He got up and made his way downstairs. As he was doing so, he felt the warm rays of sunshine beat down on his body in distorted shapes through the window panes. He stepped outside and immediately felt the bright, vibrant sunshine gaze down on him. The rain had stopped entirely. Threads of steam were rising up like ghosts from the stone pavement. James then went about his day through the warm, and musky atmosphere with a heart and mind of peace.

Works Cited

Bafflegabbler, Mary. “Memento Mori ~Victorian Era Postmortem Photography” WordPress, 11 May 2011, https://ostrobogulation.com/2011/05/11/memento-mori-victorian-era-postmortem-photography/.

Erickson, Paul. “Post-Mortem Photography: Capturing the Right Memory.” William L. Clements Library, 6 August 2020, https://clements.umich.edu/exhibit/death-in-early-america/post-mortem-memory/.

Jackson, Ashawnta. “The History of Postmortem Photography.” JSTOR Daily, 10, November 2021, https://daily.jstor.org/the-history-of-postmortem-photography/.

Little, Becky. “Photos After Death: Post-Mortem Portraits Preserved Dead Family.” History, 23 October 2018, https://www.history.com/news/post-mortem-photos-history#:~:text=Post%2Dmortem%20photographs%20became%20less,capture%20their%20image%20in%20death.