I've come to a conclusion in regards to the content of this book. It seems after all that the book is, in fact, far from a reflection on photography as it claims to be. Instead I view it as a hidden autobiographical piece of literature. Barthes seems to talk about himself a great deal and refuses to take on the perspective of someone other than him. For instance, when he describes photography he limits himself to undergoing the photograph or observing the image, both roles he has played. Yet, he does not seem to comment much on actually taking the photo, because again that is not a perspective of his own.

  Yet, this autobiographical piece is secretly one to pity. For in the book, he makes references to the isolation he feels when he comments on his inability to reproduce since he is homosexual. His loneliness is further proven by the absence of any family members and even more so the death of his mother, who he was obviously close with. It seems that any loved ones Barthes has had, now only exists in photographs which in a way is a constant reminder of his lost. If the Winter Garden photograph of his young mother does exist, it is likely he did not want to share with the public because it is his only fond memory of her. And it is completely natural for one to want to keep it to oneself, and only oneself. For the picture is the only thing left of his mother. But what will be left of Barthes when he ceases to exist. A baby? No. A last name? No. A family member? No. A book? Yes. And that is the ultimate function of Camera Lucida. It is meant to be a written photograph of him to live on eternally as a memory of his life. And oh what a perfectly visible photograph it is.