Thanks That makes sense to me in terms of why it meant something to him and good detective work on your part but unless it was accompanied by an explanation it is not likely to make sense to viewers of it, is it? So why he took it is now solved but why he included it in a book unless viewers are told the context is that doesn't make sense to me.
Why would he want it to make sense to the viewer? Artistically, the man was close to the Surrealists; spiritually, close to Buddhism. Such a man doesn't provide explanations. His photographs are half poems by André Breton and Philippe Soupault, half Zen koans.
Moreover, this book, made and published in the late 70s, at a time when Cartier-Bresson had stopped taking photographs, was meant as a visual biography. In fact, it's about as close as an autobiography as you can get with him. He profoundly disliked talking about himself. Have you read the collection of interviewed published by Aperture (
Interviews and Conversations 1951-1998). It's fascinating. It spans nearly five decades of an amazing career, and you learn, well... not much—or seemingly so: the simplicity, clarity of his thought, paradoxically, was a riddle.
What was clear for him is that, for a while, he was a photographer. His self was defined as being a photographer, in the sense that, as he said, the camera was the extension of his eye, and he lived to look and to see, through the camera. At least for a while. Until he was no longer a photographer. By choice. The title of the book,
Henri Cartier-Bresson: photographe, is not innocent. It's not meant to put forward his "best" photos. It's meant to cover his life as a seeing person through photography.
But I'd venture to say that that's the case with most great photography books. The viewer is often irrelevant, or rather, what he understands, or not, about the photos is. The role of the photographer is not to explain what he did in order for the viewer to understand, the same way the role of the poet is not to explain his poem in order for the reader to understand. What good would poetry be in such a case? What value would it have? Same with photos: sometimes,
not understanding is, if not the point, at least the path.
Again, Robert Adams' brilliant quote is so relevant: "Landscape pictures can offer us, I think, three verities—geography, autobiography, and metaphor."
Take away "geography," and this fits with most great photography.