In Autobiography of Red, Anne Carson presents us with a modern version of Geryon. In myth, he is a red, winged, three-headed monster, famously slain by Herakles as the hero’s tenth labor. Here, Geryon is still red and still winged but human, experiencing familiar human insecurities and emotions.
Geryon is a precocious boy, precocious in his self-awareness and tentative about life. He is of this world but uncertain of his place in it. When his older brother tires of walking him to Kindergarten, Geryon must do it alone. However, instead of traversing the “alien terrain” of the school’s long corridor, he makes his way around the outside of the building. It is almost heart-wrenching to watch this child make his way to class.
He did not approach Main Door at all. Justice is pure. He would make his way
around the long brick sidewall,
past the windows of Seventh Grade, Fourth Grade, Second Grade and Boys’
to the north end of the school
and position himself in the bushes outside Kindergarten. There he would stand
motionless
until someone inside noticed and came out to show him the way.
He did not gesticulate.
He did not knock on the glass. He waited. Small, red, and upright he waited,
gripping his new bookbag tight
in one hand and touching a lucky penny inside his coat pocket with the other,
while the first snows of winter
floated down on his eyelashes and covered the branches around him and silenced
all trace of the world.
Despite his young age, Geryon begins his autobiography, initially making sculptures out of random objects. Once he learns to write, he sets down all the facts about himself—what we already know from the myths, including his death by Herakles. After a brief exchange between his teacher and mother, Geryon edits his autobiography, specifically the ending, thus leaving all of the ancient tales about him in the past and opening up possibilities for the Geryon that is yet to be.
Passing time caring for critters.
Creating while they nap.
