bff71f2
|
Most / of those he interviewed for the science project had to admit they did not hear the cries of the roses / being burned alive in the noonday sun. Like horses, Geryon would say helpfully, / like horses in war. No, they shook their heads./ Why is grass called blades? he asked them. Isn't it because of the clicking? / They stared at him. You should be / interviewing roses not people, said the science teacher. Geryon liked this idea. / The ..
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
16e54cf
|
I wanted to run away with you tonight but you are a difficult woman the rules of you - Past and future circle round us now we know more now less in the institute of shadows. On a street black as widows with nothing to confess our distances found us the rules of you - so difficult a woman I wanted to run away with you tonight.
|
|
verse
|
Anne Carson |
942ec0d
|
Aristotle tells us that the high-pitched voice of the female is one evidence of her evil disposition, for creatures who are brave or just (like lions, bulls, roosters and the human male) have large deep voices.... High vocal pitch goes together with talkativeness to characterize a person who is deviant from or deficient in the masculine ideal of self-control. Women, catamites, eunuchs and androgynes fall into this category. Their sounds are..
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
a852451
|
Ascent of the rapist up the stairs seems as slow as lava. She listens to the black space where his consciousness is, moving towards her.
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
ae8c976
|
It was not fear of ridicule, to which everyday life as a winged red person had accommodated Geryon early in life,
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
1970e1c
|
These days Geryon was experiencing a pain not felt since childhood. His wings were struggling. They tore against each other on his shoulders like the little mindless red animals they were.
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
84abdf0
|
I will not stop singing the Muses who set me dancing.
|
|
tragedy
writer
poetry
joy
work
inspiration
inspirational-quotes
happiness
life
love
euripides
muses
dancing
sing
creativity
poet
|
Anne Carson |
f70b144
|
So much human cruelty is simply incidental is simply brainless. Simply no common sense. You could take the entirety of the common sense of humans and put it in the palm of
|
|
cruelty
|
Anne Carson |
57898ee
|
Pilgrims were people glad to take off their clothing, which was on fire.
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
d6562bc
|
And for a moment the frailest leaves of life contained him in a widening happiness.
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
5b0e905
|
I walk and walk with cold hands. Back at the house it is filled with longing, nothing to carry longing away. I look back over my life. I try to find analogies. There are none. I have longed for people before, I have loved people before.
|
|
longing-poetry
longing-for-someone
|
Anne Carson |
1cbad77
|
What if you get stranded in the town where pears and winter are variants for one another? Can you eat winter? No. Can you live six months inside a frozen pear? No. But there is a place, I know the place, where you will stand and see pear and winter side by side as walls stand by in silence. Can you punctuate yourself as silence? You will see the edges cut away from you, back into a world, of another kind-- back into real emptiness, some wou..
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
b524cc5
|
Antigone: We begin in the dark and birth is the death of us. Ismene: Who said that? Antigone: Hegel. Ismene: Sounds more like Beckett. Antigone: He was paraphrasing Hegel. Ismene: I don't think so.
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
0b690b1
|
This was when Geryon liked to plan his autobiography; in that blurred state, between awake and asleep. When too many intake values are open in the soul, like the terrestrial crust of the earth.
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
3008d9b
|
People really understand very little of one another. Sometimes when I speak to him, my Cid looks very hard and straight into my face as if in search of something (a city on a map?) like someone who has tumbled off a star. But he's not the one who feels alien--ever, I think. He lives in a small country of hope, which is his heart. Like Sokrates he fails to understand why travel should be such a challenge to the muscles of the heart, for othe..
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
e03c317
|
When you are falling in love it is always already too late: deute, as the poets say.
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
747b3c3
|
Look at me. This is nobility in a man: to bear what falls from the gods and not say No.
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
9a902ec
|
let's do something cheerful all your designs are about captivity, it depresses me. Geryon watched the top of Herakles' head and felt his limits returning. Nothing to say. He looked at this fact in mild surprise. Once in childhood his ice cream had been eaten by a dog. Just an empty con in a small dramatic red fist.
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
317440d
|
LIII. What is the holiness of conversation?
|
|
irony
god
|
Anne Carson |
1609274
|
She said, When you see these horrible images why do you stay with them? Why keep watching? Why not go away? I was amazed. Go away where? I said.
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
593b894
|
A cold ship moves out of harbor somewhere way inside the wife and slides off toward the flat gray horizon, not a bird not a breath in sight.
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
731dfdb
|
I loved him for his beauty.
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
9d5cfc2
|
Gorge after gorge, turning, turning. Caverns of sunset, falling, falling away--just a single vast gold air breathed out by beings--they must have been marvelous beings, those gold-breathers. Down. Purple-and-green islands. Cleft and groined and gigantically pocked like something left behind after all the oceans vanished one huge night: the mountains. Their hills fold and fold again, fold away, down. Folded into the dens and rocks of the hil..
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
edf904e
|
Although a monster Geryon could be charming in company.
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
2035e91
|
The red world And corresponding red breezes Went on Geryon did not
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
457f92f
|
In myth, women's boundaries are pliant, porous, mutable. Her power to control them is inadequate, her concern for them unreliable. Deformation attends her. She swells, she shrinks, she leaks, she is penetrated, she suffers metamorphoses. The women of mythology regularly lose their form in monstrosity.
|
|
english-nonfiction
|
Anne Carson |
023474e
|
Note that the word 'mute' is regarded by linguists as an onomatopoeic formation referring not to silence but to a certain fundamental opacity of human being, which likes to show the truth by allowing to be seen hiding.
|
|
silence
nox
mute
|
Anne Carson |
d957c07
|
what song of death, what dance of Hades shall I do?
|
|
hades
|
Anne Carson |
a52341a
|
Humans in love are terrible. You see them come hungering at one another like prehistoric wolves, you see something struggling for life in between them like a root or a soul and it flares for a moment, then they smash it. The difference between them smashes the bones out. So delicate the bones.
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
f387f8d
|
Repent means "the pain again."
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
7e961b8
|
In later years this is the one memory he wishes would go away and not come back. And the reason he cannot bear her dying is not the loss of her (which is the future) but that dying puts the two of them (now) into this nakedness together that is unforgiveable. They do not forgive it. He turns away. This roaring air in his arms. She is released.
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
097cb14
|
When I contemplate the physical spaces that articulate the letters 'I love you' in a written text, I may be led to think about other spaces, for example the space that lies between 'you' in the text and you in my life.
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
7eeadb6
|
I lack myself.
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
9d57606
|
Now I think it is true to say of the road, and also of God, that it does not move. At the same time, it is everywhere. It has a language, but not one I know. It has a story, but I am in it. So are you. And to realize this is a moment of some sadness. When we are denied a story, a light goes off. I am asking you to study the dark.
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
ccce2db
|
I went mad, a god hurt me, I fell.
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
2eef086
|
Aztan megindult felejuk az ido, ahogy karjukkal egymashoz simulva alltak, arcukon a halhatatlansag, hatukban az ejszaka.
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
6703e9a
|
We are slaves to the gods. Whatever gods are.
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
479c263
|
A thousand questions hit my eyes from the inside.
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
9f95d7b
|
Who knows what will happen if I'm alone with my grief.
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
ee52545
|
To be nothing - is that not, after all, the most satisfactory fact in the whole world?' asks a dog in a novel I read once (Virginia Woolf Flush 87). I wonder what the smell of nothing is. Smell of autopsy.
|
|
death-of-a-loved-one
dying
|
Anne Carson |
9e3148a
|
to carry one's own door will make a person clumsy, tired and strange on the other hand, it may come in useful if you go places that don't have an obvious way in, like normality or an obvious way out, like the classic double bind
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
5488822
|
So about an hour later we are in the taxi shooting along empty country roads towards town. The April light is clear as an alarm. As we pass them it gives a sudden sense of every object existing in space on its own shadow. I wish I could carry this clarity with me into the hospital where distinctions tend to flatten and coalesce. I wish I had been nicer to him before he got crazy. These are my two wishes.
|
|
illness
poem
poetry
dementia
clarity
parents
children
|
Anne Carson |
e10072f
|
HE WAS FOURTEEN it was years ago and Sad's name wasn't Sad yet. First comet. G had just stumbled off a bus they looked at one another and that lasted until G was almost twenty but he. Well. Being a loyal soul himself. Sad's need to make friends everywhere. Sex friends club friends gym friends dope friends shopping friends breakdown friends a common enough problem. Sad didn't see a problem. One day he looked around and G was gone.
|
|
|
Anne Carson |
d7420e4
|
When an individual appreciates that he alone is responsible for the content and coherence of his person, an influx like eros becomes a concrete personal threat. So in the lyric poets, love is something that assaults or invades the body of the lover to wrest control of it from him, a personal struggle of will and physique between the god and his victim. The poets describe this struggle from within a consciousness - perhaps new in the world -..
|
|
love
self
eros
|
Anne Carson |