the image of oneself, reproduced ad nauseam on placards, on TV.
How many hundreds of times has Clinton looked out on crowds such as these, and seen a gigantic field whose sole crop was his name on sticks? I think of children writing their own names over and over in notebooks, staring at the letters with a mixture of pride and confusion, possession and distance. At some extravagant, celebratory moment, when the candidate looked out on all the representations of his name bobbing up and down in front of him, did he ever wonder, "Who is this Clinton?''
Though they are devoted to the soul of the campaign, and not to its political narrative, Bentley's pictures do convey some of the campaign's more significant moments.
