Powerful Force, Powerful Book

by

Lauren Roberts

More than two years after it was published, the book still maintains an indelible hold upon my mind. I often take it out to peruse it, looking for what I am not sure. Anyone who comes over either has or will see it. It possesses me in a way no other book has ever done.

It is 100 Suns by Michael Light (Knopf), and it is the most unusual and extraordinary photography book published. It is also the most disturbing because the "suns" in the title refers to the 216 U.S. atomic explosions that took place above ground between July 16, 1945 and November 4, 1962.

You may think that straight reproductions of military photographs of nuclear explosions could hardly be of interest. Wrong! I have to go into adjective overdrive to even begin to describe it properly: stupendous, horrifying, fascinating, startling, appalling, stunning, incredible, gripping. Photograph after photograph of these terrifyingly beautiful blasts fill each page.

Light assembled these 95 images from among the collection at Los Alamos National Laboratory and the U.S. National Archives, many of which were previously classified and whose photographers were sworn to secrecy. Never intended for publication, these surprisingly high quality images are reproduced without any changes to the original print, making these all the more "real" and frightening.

A large portion of the book is black, an understated design that strengthens and intensifies its powerful impact. The text is minimal, saved primarily for the back of the book where more details on the explosions is found. The only explanation in the main body of the book is the name of each test, its date, kilotons and location.

The front of the dust jacket is a surprisingly quiet shot of a single white explosion gently shaped as a glowing Tiffany lamp in the dark, seeming almost innocuous. The backside makes a stronger statement. A bright light in the distance horizon glows like a massive setting sun as soldiers in the foreground turn away, shielding their faces. It's as if they cannot get away from it-and, in many ways, they cannot.

Atomic explosions are generally described as looking like mushroom clouds, but the diversity here is surprising; three of the early photographs are eerie clouds that resemble microscopic images of human cells if the cells were weirdly white. "Fox," a 1952 Nevada explosion is a glorious burst of red and yellow in a multi-pointed start shaped cloud. "Diablo," a 1957 Nevada test, conveys a cosmic sense of power and infinite space as it gushes outward, dwarfing a set of buildings down to the size of cereal box toys.

But it is the depictions of the men who were the military's unwitting test subjects that is truly monstrous. The point of view of the image chosen for "Simon," for example, is from the trench. Literally. The photographer is crouched among the soldiers lining a dirt trench, shooting them from behind with their helmeted heads bent, coat collars up and radioactive fallout raining down like snow beneath a nuclear-lit sky. You can almost breathe the same air in this image. Even more terrifying is "Dog," an 81-kiloton explosion that took place on Enewetak Atoll in 1951. The photographer focuses not on the explosion itself but on its image chillingly reflected in the oversized goggles of its live viewers. But its greatest horror is the men themselves who are sitting on Adirondack chairs dressed only in casual wear, some in a relaxed posture, others leaning forward eagerly as if watching a film.

That terror is this book's point. In his notes at the end, Light explains the science behind these weapons and their impact upon the environment and humans as well as the history of their discovery, testing and use. "From 1951 to 1957 at the Nevada test site," he writes, "U.S. military troops, primarily from the Army, were ordered to observe nuclear tests at varying distances form the blast point, and then conduct 'atomic war exercises' at or near ground zero immediately after detonation ... in its quest to create 'hardened' troops capable of 'tactical' warfare on the atomic battlefield.

"It is difficult to comprehend the mechanics and effects of just one such distillation of brilliant human savagery," Light continues. "That is why these photographic images ... remain utterly relevant ... Photographs only tell us about the surface of things, about how things look. When it's all we have, however, it's enough to help understanding. It exists. It happened. It is happening. May no further nuclear detonation photographs be made, ever."

Helping understanding is precisely what 100 Suns does so well. In the final analysis, it is a brilliant depiction of the science of destruction taken to its ultimate level. It has my highest recommendation.