# red wings
i recently finished reading Anne Carson's Autobiography of Red on a very thoughtful recommendation from the bluest person i know. my fixation with greek mythology is definitely not a secret, but perhaps worth bringing up preemptively. the book concerns itself with the fragments of an ancient and incomplete epic poem conceived by greek poet Stesychoros called the Geryoneis; only fragments were recovered throughout history. it tells the story of Herakles' tenth labor: stealing cattle from the red flying monster Geryon and ultimately taking his life.

Stesychoros' original fragments are presented in full towards the start of the book and come across as confusing and enigmatic. this particular section is a short read, but rewards going over it multiple times as well as oral recitation. these introductory pages also include linguistically clever and almost comical analysis of Stesychoros himself, poking specifically at his blaming on Helen of the war of Troy and the conflict therein. they're succinct yet dense appetizers to what is to come; thoroughly enticing in their withholding.

the central material is the Autobiography of Red, a modern re-telling of the story of Geryon manufactured by Anne Carson and described as a novel in verse. i had never read Carson before, but her use of language immediately gripped me. notable tropes are the rebelliously ambiguous and meaningfully flowering lack of consistent punctuation throughout the text, the clever repetition of words that manipulates or underlines their meaning (a personal favorite move of mine, as evidenced by my own writing). dialogue is tinted by disorientation: italics represent it clearly, but a lack of assignment to an interlocutor and Geryon's constant internal monologue obfuscate it giving it organic life, somehow. in Carson's world, language appears to be a plaything worth taking all the playing chances.

i respect and admire derivative and referential work quite a bit when done right. turning unintelligible fragments of the Geryoneis into a fully fledged story of love and love lost and love understood and life understood, reconceiving the monster of Geryon as a being that blends into society thus allowing him the central voice in the narrative, imbuing a tale that perhaps should be lost with such staunchly universal humanity in ways endearing as they are funny and revealing as they are obfuscated, are achievements nowhere short of incredible. it hurt me when i saw myself within, i yearned for human pain when i didn't. each chapter stands on its own idiosyncrasy, each line is worth re-reading, each confusion is strangely rewarding (notably, the interview of Stesychoros at the very end left me dumbfounded and stimulatingly fixated on digging deeper). a relatively short read made itself long and rich through unapologetic mannerism and consistent commitment to it.

i write this entry as a reminder to dig deeper into a linguistic soul that feels kindred to mine, and as a heartfelt thank you to the person who gifted me this book. they proposed while discussing the narrative that Geryon's red wings were metaphorical, perhaps a symbol of alienation. i personally never read them as anything other than literal, but inevitably always symbolically. 

=> //juliocesar.flounder.online/pages/blog.gmi return to blog
=> //juliocesar.flounder.online return home