Red Doc>

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9780771018206: Red Doc>

A literary event: a follow-up to the internationally acclaimed poetry bestseller Autobiography of Red ("Amazing" -- Alice Munro) that takes its mythic boy-hero into the twenty-first century to tell a story all its own of love, loss, and the power of memory.

In a stunningly original mix of poetry, drama, and narrative, Anne Carson brings the red-winged Geryon from Autobiography of Red, now called "G," into manhood, and through the complex labyrinths of the modern age. We join him as he travels with his friend and lover "Sad" (short for Sad But Great), a haunted war veteran; and with Ida, an artist, across a geography that ranges from plains of glacial ice to idyllic green pastures; from a psychiatric clinic to the somber housewhere G's mother must face her death. Haunted by Proust, juxtaposing the hunger for flight with the longing for family and home, this deeply powerful verse picaresque invites readers on an extraordinary journey of intellect, imagination, and soul.

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About the Author:

ANNE CARSON was born in Canada and has been a professor of Classics for over thirty years. Her awards and honors include the Lannan Award, the Pushcart Prize, the Griffin Trust Award for Excellence in Poetry, and fellowships from the Guggenheim and MacArthur Foundations. The author lives in Ann Arbor, Michigan; New York.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.:

does not pass. Time all
but passes. Time usually
passes. Time passing and
gazing. Time has no gaze.
Time as perseverance.
Time as hunger. Time in
a natural way. Time when
you were six the day a
mountain. Mountain time.
Time I don’t remember.
Time for a dog in an alley
caught in the beam of your
flashlight. Time not a
video. Time as paper
folded to look like a
mountain. Time smeared
under the eyes of the
miners as they rattle down
into the mine. Time if you
are bankrupt. Time if you
are Prometheus. Time if
you are all the little tubes
on the roots of a gorse
plant sucking greenish
black moistures up into
new scribbled continents.
Time it takes for the postal
clerk to apply her lipstick
at the back of the post
office before the
supervisor returns. Time
it takes for a cow to tip
over. Time in jail. Time
as overcoats in a closet.
Time for a herd of turkeys
skidding and surprised on
ice. All the time that has
soaked into the walls here.
Time between the little
clicks. Time compared to
the wild fantastic silence
of the stars. Time for the
man at the bus stop
standing on one leg to tie
his shoe. Time taking
Night by the hand and
trotting off down the road.
Time passes oh boy. Time
got the jump on me yes it
COUPONS horoscopes
in a kitchen drawer he turns
up an old B&W
photograph of her posed in
dashing swim costume on
some long ago back porch.
One leg forward like a
Greek kouros a cigarette
in the other hand she
glows as a drop of water
glows in sun. She looks
sexually astute in a way
that terrifies him he puts
this aside and all at once
the grainy photograph the
early marvel of her life
flung up at him a thing
hardly believable! knocks
him to his knees. He grips
his arms and weeps. Pain
catches the whole insides
of him and wrings it.
Oddly now remembering
his grandmother’s wringer
washer silvergreen and
upright on a platform of
wet boards in her back
kitchen beside the
washing tubs. How
carefully he’d been taught
to feed a piece of dripping
cloth between the two big
lips of the rollers while
she cranked the handle
and the cloth grabbed
fforward to emerge on the
other side as a weird
compressed pane of itself.
He hadn’t known his
grandmother long or well.
She smelled of Noxzema.
Didn’t like doctors.
Believed in herbs and the
Bible. When the apostles
walked down the street
she said their shadows
would heal people. His
mother once told him a
story about her dying.
They never liked each
other hadn’t visited for
years but someone
arranged a phone call. So
there they were mother
and daughter on the
telephone separate cities
separate nights both
suffering from asthma and
so moved they couldn’t
speak. I heard her
breathing I knew what it
was his mother said. He
looks up. He’d almost
forgot about the rain.
Unloading on the roof and
squandering down the
gutters. Rain continuous
since the funeral a
wrecking rattling
bewildering Lethe-
knuckling mob of rain. A
rain with no instructions.
Mothers in summer
Mothers in winter
Mothers in autumn
Mothers in spring
Mothers at altitude
Mothers in solitude
Mothers as platitude
Mothers in spring
Mothers banking their shots
Mothers grackling their throats
Mothers dumped from their boats
In spring
Mothers as ice
Or when they are nice
No one more nice
In spring
Mothers ashamed and Ablaze and clear
At the end
As they are
As they almost all are, and then
Mothers don’t come around
Again In spring

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Carson, Anne
Editore: McClelland & Stewart 2013-03-05 (2013)
ISBN 10: 0771018207 ISBN 13: 9780771018206
Nuovi Rilegato Quantità: 1
(Thorold, ON, Canada)
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Descrizione libro McClelland & Stewart 2013-03-05, 2013. Hardcover. Condizione libro: New. Hardcover. Publisher overstock, may contain remainder mark on edge. Codice libro della libreria 9780771018206B

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Carson , Anne
Editore: McLelland & Stewart (2013)
ISBN 10: 0771018207 ISBN 13: 9780771018206
Nuovi Rilegato Prima edizione Quantità: 1
Valutazione libreria

Descrizione libro McLelland & Stewart, 2013. Hardcover. Condizione libro: New. Condizione sovraccoperta: New. 1st Edition. 2013 FIRST EDITION Hardcover book in original dust Jacket . BRAND NEW from 2013 publisher . This has the little " ice bat " illustration on the bottom of the blank page after the title, with some blue & red coloring on it; back of book credits say the frontispiece illustration is by Ida . ( Anne Carson told the New York Times there is no such thing as ice bats - "I made them up", she said ). There is the original ' send us your thoughts ' sticker still intact from the publisher on the front . This book came from the publisher like this, it has Never been opened, Never been read . Excellent Gift Giving quality . Handsome book ; red textured boards with black cloth; silver gilt title impressed on spine, in photographic jacket designed & photographed by Anne Carson and Carol Devine Carson . 164 pages; with frontispiece bat illustration by Ida. Book size: 6-1/2" wide x 9" tall x 3/4" thick. This book is the contination of the story about the boy named Geryon who was red and had wings and fell in love with Herakles . this is the story of their adventures continuing in later life, in a very different style and with changed names . " red doc> " by Anne Carson , 2013 Hard cover book in original DJ , published by McLelland & Stewart, Toronto, in English only *** Securely packed for safe delivery, since 1965 *** 6-1/2 x 9 x 3/4 ". Codice libro della libreria 7048

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