For me, one of the most interesting parts about reading Bellocq’s Ophelia was the differences in perspective throughout the collection of poems. The collection starts with a poem that doesn’t seem to have a set perspective. In fact, it almost seems like the reader is watching from outside the scene, watching as if we were a wallflower, silently observing the end of Ophelia’s life in the painting. It both seems distant and all knowing at the same time.
The poem immediately after is written like a letter being sent to home. Here, it’s clear we’re looking through Ophelia’s lens as if she was writing that letter in the moment, asking about her family and providing updates on her new job, despite having no work at the time. This isn’t the first time a poem was phrased as a letter, directed to a specific someone to read. In fact, two other poems both started as “My Dearest Constance.” These three instances were the only poems that were written from Ophelia’s point of view, but otherwise were not directed to what I presumed to be herself.
There were a few other poems that were not from Ophelia’s perspective were the ones that were viewing at Ophelia herself – the poems written from Bellocq’s point of view. These poems are looking at Ophelia like Bellocq did through his photography. They were all carefully worded to showcase the things he thought were important to the final photograph. For the most part, this was mainly focused on Ophelia and what she was wearing for the photo at the time, though, in the very last poem, Bellocq is remarking Ophelia’s attention as he’s waiting for the right moment to take her picture. This particular moment I found very interesting, because there weren’t any remarks outside of her own image from Bellocq – only what he was looking for in a photograph – which made him look through a new perspective, as well.