Bellocq’s Ophelia recounts the fictional tale of Ophelia, a sex worker in the early 1900’s. Ophelia is not only objectified because of her job but because she is a light-skinned black woman. She is seen as one of the “exotic curiosities” (pg. 26) of the brothel for this reason. The men who come to gawk and purchase these women’s time fuss about her and the other light-skinned women as if it is some sort of game looking at them or as a notch in their belts to brag about louder than any other.
Eventually, Ophelia is able to find some freedom and strength thanks to Bellocq and his photos. The poem titled “August 1911” ends with the lines:
“I looked away from my reflection– small and distorted– in his lens.” (pg. 26)
This explains just how much being an object for these men to look at has crushed her view of herself. She does not see a strong woman doing what she must for herself but a small, gross individual whose identity is distorted through a man’s gaze. In the very next poem, titled “September 1911,” Ophelia has picked up a camera, a different type of lens, but this time instead of looking at her reflection she is looking at the world and its beauty.
In the poem titled “October 1911,” Ophelia talks about getting arrested and her mugshot. Here is another lens looking at her as if it knew all there was to know about her and her life, a lens showing her just as “small and distorted” as the lens of the man’s glasses back in August. Her reflection in these pieces of glass hold only the facade the world has given her; the real Ophelia can only be seen through her own camera lens, not as the photograph but as the photographer. She is meant to be the observer, not the object.