Thursday, December 17, 2009


Fordi førjulstida kan ta motet fra de fleste, og fordi den i hvert fall har tatt knekken på meg, jeg kan nesten ikke se en kunde i ansiktet mer, nakken min krøller seg, øynene krøller seg. Fordi jeg straks skal på jobb igjen og fordi jeg egentlig skulle ligget i senga og vært kvalm resten av dagen: Her er to utdrag fra boka som redder livet mitt for tida.

He loved lightning He lived on an island His mother was a
Nymph of a river that ran to the sea His father was a gold
Cutting tool Old scholia say that Stesichoros says that
Geryon had six hands and six feet and wings He was red and
His strange red cattle excited envy Herakles came and
Killed him for his cattle

The dog too

The red world And corresponding red breezes
Went on Geryon did not

Children make you see distances.
What do you mean «distances»?

Lazer paused and picked an olive from the plate. He spun it slowly on the toothpick.
Well for example this morning
I was sitting at my desk at home looking out on the acacia trees that grow beside
the balcony beautiful trees very tall
and my daughter was there she likes to stand beside me and draw pictures while
I write in my journal. It
was very bright this morning unexpectedly clear like a summer day and I looked up
and saw a shadow of a bird go flashing
across the leaves of the acacia as if on a screen projected and it seemed to me that I
was standing on a hill. I have labored up
to the top of this hill, here I am it has taken about half my life to get here and on
the other side the hill slopes down.
Behind me somewhere if I turned around I could see my daughter beginning to climb
hand over hand like a little gold
animal in the morning sun. That is who we are Creatures moving on a hill.
At different distances,
said Geryon.
At distances always changing. We cannot help one another or even cry out -
what would I say to her,
«Don't climb so fast»?
The waiter passed behind Lazer. He was moving at a tilt.
Black outside air tossed itself hard against the windows. Lazer looked down at his watch. I must go, he said
and he was winding his yellow scarf
about his neck as he rose. Oh don't go, thought Geryon who felt himself starting
to slide off the surface of the room
like an olive off a plate. When the plate attained an angle of thirty degrees
he would vanish into his own blankness.

Autobiography of Red - Anne Carson

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