Review of Autobiography of Red by Anne Carson
I usually attribute my interest in myth to having read Percy Jackson when I was younger, but I wonder if it’s more the other way around, in which the pull of PJO even in youth was simply due to the themes of ancient stories—so old and true that they’re intrinsically tied to Western human experience. I think the same can be said for this retelling of the Geryon myth, in which my interest was piqued by the very nature of this tale being based on something old, tried, true.
Books like Madeline Miller’s The Song of Achilles and Circe, or my interest in reading Inua Ellams’ The Half-God of Rainfall (which also utilizes Nigerian mythology!) are more examples of these old stories retold/ modernized that draw me towards them. Even my favorite class from college thus far, a Classics course that served as an Intro to Greek Civilization, touched on how the relationship dynamic in the movie adaptation of Call Me By Your Name utilizes practices from antiquity — most notably the movie-only scene with Elio and Oliver and the bronze arm statue—that heighten the relationship further than the book does. (I don’t quite recall if this was the exact way my professor phrased it, but he said something along the lines of how “xenia,” the Ancient Greek concept of hospitality through gift giving, makes the scene reminiscent of Patroclus donning Achilles’ armor. Also fun fact but they shot the movie in my professor’s hometown!)
All this to say that I find the influence of Ancient Greek myth/thought/symbolism to be fascinating in its prevalence even within modern media. As such, when I finished Autobiography of Red, I found myself enamored for many of the same reasons. It’s a verse novel based loosely on and modernizing the myth of Geryon and Heracles, particularly Stesichorus’ surviving fragments. While I enjoyed the concept and prose as a whole, I’m also just not too familiar with verse or the myth itself. As a result, I have very mixed feelings towards this work as a whole.
First, it must be said that the prose is absolutely gorgeous. Carson’s ability to evoke imagery through clever turns of phrase and metaphor is honestly beautiful, and, as someone who is a sucker for pretty prose, it was what primarily made me finish the novel. That being said, even though I knew what was going on, I had trouble understanding the significance of certain events, and I was distracted by how the verse with structured. Again, I attribute a lot of this to my own unfamiliarity with verse and the original myth itself, but I struggled with emotionally connecting to this work. I understood Geryon’s loneliness and heartbreak on a surface level, but my confusion towards the structure and why things were unraveling the way they were made me feel distant from the narrative.
To be honest, my favorite part of the novel was the first couple of chapters that critically studied Stesichorus as a poet, and the evolution of story. It was a fascinating and interesting take, and I always love a good meta-writing moment. On an analytical level, I see how the rest of the novel adheres to the themes Carson presents in these introductory chapters in an almost tongue in cheek manner, but again, I guess I just didn’t “get” the novel. Which is okay! I do plan on revisiting this book one day once I have some more context. But for now, it just wasn’t quite the book for me (though perhaps I’ve also been spoiled by books like A Little Life, CMBYN, and On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous in their deeper exploration and execution of similar themes).
In all, what a lovely, sweet, and strange work. Carson possesses an incredible dexterity when it comes to the written work along with the creative chops to substantiate the narrative itself, suffusing this work with clear appreciation and love for the tale and how it can be adapted and interpreted anew.
