N by Tonks: Henry Ralph Lumley. Figure 4 shows NS-018MedChemExpress NS-018 Lumley before his injury. These photographs, like the other images reproduced in this article, can be found quite easily on the web, along with Lumley’s case notes, a series of photographs documenting the operations, and Tonks’ portrait.7 When I last checked, the pre-operative photograph had 254,405 hits, so either it has been seen by a considerable number of individuals, or there are people — like me — who’ve returned to it repeatedly, for whatever reason. Henry Lumley was admitted to the specialist hospital for facial casualties in October 1917. In his notes, Harold Gillies describes Lumley’s condition on admission: the skin and subcutaneous tissue of his face had been destroyed by severe petrol burns, including the left eye and eyelid, both eyebrows, and the nose down to the cartilage. A Second Lieutenant in the Royal Flying Corps, Lumley had been wounded on 14 July 1916: by the time he came to Sidcup, he had lived with his injuries for over a year. No further mention is made of the accident in the case notes, but a genealogist working on Project Fa de looked up Lumley’s service records in The National Archives.8 A former operator with the Eastern Telegraph Company, Lumley was selected for the RFC’s Special Reserve of Officers in April 1916. He never made it out of England though: a letter from the Central Flying School in Upavon, dated 9 August 1916, reveals that the accident happened on the day of his graduation. The two operations at Sidcup, in November 1917 and February 1918, are documented in detail in the case notes, and revisited in Gillies’ 1920 textbook, Plastic Surgery of the Face, which is now out of copyright and freely available online.9 A diagram shows Gillies’ ambitious plan to remove the existing scar tissue and raise a large flap of skin from Lumley’s chest with pedicle tubes providing a further blood supply to the graft (Figure 5). Despite ongoing complications, the initial signs were encouraging, but by day three after the second operation the graft had developed gangrene. Henry Lumley died twenty-four days later on 11 March 1918. He was 26.P H OTO G R AP H I E SFIGURE 3 Photograph of patient before surgery, Lumley case file. Gillies Archives, Queen Mary’s Hospital Sidcup. Photograph courtesy of the Gillies Archives.M E D I C A L A R C H I V E S A N D D I G I TA L C U L T U R EFIGURE 4 Pre-injury photograph, Lumley case file. Gillies Archives, Queen Mary’s Hospital Sidcup. Photograph courtesy of the Gillies Archives.P H OTO G R AP H I E S(a)(b)FIGURE 5 Notes from Lumley case file. Reproduced with permission of the Gillies Archives, Queen Mary’s Hospital Sidcup.M E D I C A L A R C H I V E S A N D D I G I TA L C U L T U R EThe burdens of representationWhat do we gain from seeing images like these? What would constitute their proper — or improper — use? Susan Sontag’s book Regarding the Pain of Others is probably the most famous attempt to answer this question. In it she returns to the scene of her earlier study, On Photography, and reconsiders the claim, almost three decades on, that we (in the West) have Isorhamnetin msds become desensitised to the suffering of others; that this moral anaesthesia is directly attributable to the proliferation of images of appalling suffering. In On Photography Sontag pointed out an innate paradox of photographs: that they could, simultaneously, make an event more real than if one had never seen the photograph; but also — through “repeated exposure” -.N by Tonks: Henry Ralph Lumley. Figure 4 shows Lumley before his injury. These photographs, like the other images reproduced in this article, can be found quite easily on the web, along with Lumley’s case notes, a series of photographs documenting the operations, and Tonks’ portrait.7 When I last checked, the pre-operative photograph had 254,405 hits, so either it has been seen by a considerable number of individuals, or there are people — like me — who’ve returned to it repeatedly, for whatever reason. Henry Lumley was admitted to the specialist hospital for facial casualties in October 1917. In his notes, Harold Gillies describes Lumley’s condition on admission: the skin and subcutaneous tissue of his face had been destroyed by severe petrol burns, including the left eye and eyelid, both eyebrows, and the nose down to the cartilage. A Second Lieutenant in the Royal Flying Corps, Lumley had been wounded on 14 July 1916: by the time he came to Sidcup, he had lived with his injuries for over a year. No further mention is made of the accident in the case notes, but a genealogist working on Project Fa de looked up Lumley’s service records in The National Archives.8 A former operator with the Eastern Telegraph Company, Lumley was selected for the RFC’s Special Reserve of Officers in April 1916. He never made it out of England though: a letter from the Central Flying School in Upavon, dated 9 August 1916, reveals that the accident happened on the day of his graduation. The two operations at Sidcup, in November 1917 and February 1918, are documented in detail in the case notes, and revisited in Gillies’ 1920 textbook, Plastic Surgery of the Face, which is now out of copyright and freely available online.9 A diagram shows Gillies’ ambitious plan to remove the existing scar tissue and raise a large flap of skin from Lumley’s chest with pedicle tubes providing a further blood supply to the graft (Figure 5). Despite ongoing complications, the initial signs were encouraging, but by day three after the second operation the graft had developed gangrene. Henry Lumley died twenty-four days later on 11 March 1918. He was 26.P H OTO G R AP H I E SFIGURE 3 Photograph of patient before surgery, Lumley case file. Gillies Archives, Queen Mary’s Hospital Sidcup. Photograph courtesy of the Gillies Archives.M E D I C A L A R C H I V E S A N D D I G I TA L C U L T U R EFIGURE 4 Pre-injury photograph, Lumley case file. Gillies Archives, Queen Mary’s Hospital Sidcup. Photograph courtesy of the Gillies Archives.P H OTO G R AP H I E S(a)(b)FIGURE 5 Notes from Lumley case file. Reproduced with permission of the Gillies Archives, Queen Mary’s Hospital Sidcup.M E D I C A L A R C H I V E S A N D D I G I TA L C U L T U R EThe burdens of representationWhat do we gain from seeing images like these? What would constitute their proper — or improper — use? Susan Sontag’s book Regarding the Pain of Others is probably the most famous attempt to answer this question. In it she returns to the scene of her earlier study, On Photography, and reconsiders the claim, almost three decades on, that we (in the West) have become desensitised to the suffering of others; that this moral anaesthesia is directly attributable to the proliferation of images of appalling suffering. In On Photography Sontag pointed out an innate paradox of photographs: that they could, simultaneously, make an event more real than if one had never seen the photograph; but also — through “repeated exposure” -.
