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Anne Carson

A professor of the classics, with background in classical languages, comparative literature, anthropology, history, and commercial art, Carson blends ideas and themes from many fields in her writing. She frequently references, modernizes, and translates Ancient Greek literature. She has published eighteen books as of 2013, all of which blend the forms of poetry, essay, prose, criticism, translation, dramatic dialogue, fiction, and non-fiction.Anne Carson lives in Canada.Anne Carson is an internationally acclaimed writer. Her books include Antigonick, Nox, Decreation, The Beauty of the Husband: A Fictional Essay in 29 Tangos, winner of the T.S. Eliot Prize for Poetry; Economy of the Unlost; Autobiography of Red, shortlisted for the National Book Critics Circle Award and the T.S. Eliot Prize, Plainwater: Essays and Poetry, and Glass, Irony and God, shortlisted for the Forward Prize. Carson is also a classics scholar, the translator of If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho, and the author of Eros the Bittersweet. Her awards and honors include the Lannan Award, the Pushcart Prize, the Griffin Trust Award for Excellence in Poetry, a Guggenheim fellowship, and a MacArthur Fellowship. Her latest book, Red Doc>, was shortlisted for the 2013 T.S. Elliot Prize.

Books

Audiobooks

Book translations

Quotes

zafiroboliviahas quotedlast year
Beginnings are special
because most of them are fake.
The new person you become
with that first sip of wine
was already there.
Aldair Apodacahas quoted15 hours ago
A cat’s-eye

is outranked only by a steelie. And so they developed an economy of sex

for cat’s-eyes.

Pulling the stick makes my brother happy, thought Geryon. Don’t tell Mom,

said his brother.

Voyaging into the rotten ruby of the night became a contest of freedom

and bad logic.

Come on Geryon.

No.

You owe me
Aldair Apodacahas quoted15 hours ago
No.

I hate you. I don’t care. I’ll tell Mom. Tell Mom what?

How nobody likes you at school.

Geryon paused. Facts are bigger in the dark. Sometimes then he would descend

to the other bunk

and let his brother do what he liked or else hang in between with his face pressed

into the edge of his own mattress,

cold toes balancing on the bed below.
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