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#autobiography of red
flowerytale · 2 months ago
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Anne Carson, from Autobiography of Red
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watermotif · 25 days ago
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anne carson by christopher sherman for interview magazine
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nutnoce · 6 months ago
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“Look! he would prick his thumb and press out ocher-colored drops that sizzled when they hit the plate- Volcano blood! Claimed the temperature of his body was a continuous 130 degrees and let people touch his skin for 75 cents”
Anne Carson, Autobiography of Red, XVIII. She
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Rothko // Autobiography of Red, Anne Carson
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antigonick · 3 months ago
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You love him? Geryon thought about that. In my dreams I do. Your dreams? Dreams of the old days. When you first knew him? Yes, when I—knew him. What about now? Yes—no—I don’t know. Geryon pressed his hands over his face then let them fall. No it's not here now. 
—Anne Carson, excerpt of “XLV. Photographs: Like and Not Like”, in Autobiography of Red
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woundgallery · 3 months ago
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Anne Carson from Autobiography of Red 
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smokefalls · 18 days ago
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[…] in that blurred state / between awake and asleep when too many intake valves are open in the soul.
Anne Carson, Autobiography of Red
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weltonboys · 2 months ago
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autobiography of red - anne carson
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skyrzeart · 2 months ago
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a boy is a volcano
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typewriter-worries · a month ago
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A man moves through time. It means nothing except that, like a harpoon, once thrown he will arrive.
Anne Carson, Autobiography of Red 
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highsviolets · 2 months ago
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in that blurred state
between awake and asleep when too many intake valves are open in the soul.
Anne Carson, An Autobiography of Red (1998)
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metamorphesque · 7 months ago
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“I have longed for people before, I have loved people before. Not like this. It was not this. Give me a world, you have taken the world I was.”
― Anne Carson, This
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“There is no person without a world.”
― Anne Carson, Autobiography of Red
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anatomy-of-grief · 4 months ago
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“When they made love/Geryon liked to touch in slow succession each of the bones of Herakles' back/as it arched away from him into who knows what dark dream of its own, running both hands all the way down/from the base of the neck/to the end of the spine which he can cause to shiver like a root in the rain.”
—Anne Carson, Autobiography of Red
I want to have a dream where Carson comes and nourishes me like one of her stories of grief.
[Mother, please pray for us, that we once in our entire lifetime understand Geryon’s grief]
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Hercules driving off the cattle of Geryon, at the right are the nymphs of Hesperides, 1531-76 © Heritage Art/Heritage Images
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I can not imagine his skull opening into two by any weapon, he had grief lodged everywhere in his body, his throat, his lonely colourless eyes, his red tongue, his vestige prone throat, tell me if a man who has so much of grief inside him can be alive as a monster. How can such a man be alive if not as a red-winged monster. With a school floor serving as a place where he was to part with his brother who made him forcefully touch him in the dark, from between their bunk beds, he would carry his book bag in his puny hands and walk all along the sturdy walls reddened with the blood of his innocence, the blood of his childhood. Tell me the name of a monster who doesn’t hide his wings, tell me if there is anything different from a man and if there is, try to deny the fact that he/she/they is/are called a monster. Deny the existence of ignorance, and oppression will get itself a man who will justify it for a whole lifetime without knowing the face, smell or touch of love.
(🎵- ‘I want a dog’ by Hobo Johnson/the fall of Hobo Johnson)
(Imagine that an ethical mam killed the dog)
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By Egon Schiele
With all the grace hidden in his wings, he records himself flying for the man his ex-boyfriend is in love with, with all deceit he gives in when Herakles touches his crotch in the plane, he likes it, he likes the touch of the man he once loved, but then he hardly knows the difference between love and abuse, kin and enemy. What is love for Geryon if not a cage, if not a weapon, (in the poem, he says that his favourite weapon would be a cage) and what is love if not a weapon to be kept in hand while you stole sheep in name of crime and waited for the man you loved to come clean with you, kill you, and leave your body stranded on the island?
(This entire post doesn’t make any sense, it is born out of a depressed boy reading a good gone greek myth and Anne Carson’s take on it, it is full of references from both the pieces)
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nutnoce · 6 months ago
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“Geryon sat on his bed in the hotel room pondering the cracks and fissures of his inner life. It may happen that the exit of the volcanic vent is blocked by a plug of rock, forcing molten matter sideways along latter all fissures called fire lips by volcanologists. Yet Geryon didn’t want to become one of those people who think of nothing but their stores of pain. He bent over the book on his knees. Philosophic Problems ’… I will never know how you see red and you will never know how I see it. But this separation of consciousness is recognized only after a failure of communication, and our first movement is to believe in an undivided being between us…’” 
Anne Carson, Autobiography of Red, XXXII. Kiss
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voidnewtella · a month ago
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from Autobiography of Red by Anne Carson (1998)
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antigonick · 10 months ago
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[His] voice flowed out like a fragrance released in the rain.
Anne Carson, excerpt of “XXXIV. Harrods”, in Autobiography of Red
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harrypotterhousequotes · 8 months ago
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SLYTHERIN: "Words bounce. Words, if you let them, will do what they want to do and what they have to do." –Anne Carson (Autobiography of Red)
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smokefalls · 15 days ago
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Under the seams runs the pain.
Anne Carson, Autobiography of Red
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exitwound · 4 months ago
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zoe bestie what does your blog title translate to english as?
ὡς ὅκα μάκων is “as when a poppy” or “like a poppy”, it’s from geryoneis S15
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anne carson translates it in autobiography of red as!!:
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deformititties · a year ago
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“Desire is no light thing.”
Autobiography of Red, Anne Carson
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