I love the use of color in this book. Often, Carson does not use colors beyond what we think of in the rainbow today (minus indigo) as well as white, black, and I believe pink. But, importantly, she does not use shades of these colors to describe specific variants. I like that because there is such a large emphasis on color, especially red. There are those who can see red and those who cannot (not literally, of course). But I do believe it is important to note that Herakles does not often say red, if at all. Which is ironic considering Geryon loves him. A few pages before Ancash sees Geryon’s wings, we get this point where Herakles – and I swear he jumps out of nowhere in each scene – interrupts a conversation and talks about the parrots in the house. He says, “Yes she has a room full of parrots at the front of the house. / Must be fifty birds in there. / Purple green orange blue yellow it’s like an explosion” (Carson 123). He literally lists every single color except for red. In my opinion, this signals his inability to change. This sentence would be less odd if 1) he did not mention 5/6 colors of the rainbow and 2) he did not mention parrots. Personally, when I think of parrots, I think of those red ones with blue and yellow feathers often seen with pirates. There are many different species of parrots, but it is clear that the lack of red in Herakles’s words was intentional. Although, he was not talking about Geryon, it becomes evident that Herakles doesn’t know what red means in the metaphorical sense, which is thus portrayed by his lack of physically acknowledging its existence. Back when they were kids, in his dream, Herakles thought of Geryon as yellow. This dissonance between who Geryon actually is and what Herakles sees is evident through these colorful words. Ironically, Herakles is bad at “reading” people. It seems he either does not care or is willfully ignorant about the feelings of others. He never seems to connect with anyone. On the other hand, the conversations between Ancash – who actually says and sees red – and Geryon are more emotional and trusting than the conversations including Herakles. In fact, Herakles often interrupts the conversations between Geryon and Ancash. Interestingly, Geryon says “In the photograph the face of / Herakles is white,” noticing the line break emphasizes “Herakles is white” (144). Other things described as white in Autobiography of Red include Lima and specific days while Geryon is there. There is this gloomy, almost upsetting, use of white as a verb. White is like the absence of color. The absence of red. An inability to see. In the end, it all demonstrates Herakles’s lack of change and inability to actually see people.
3 thoughts on “Seeing Red (or not…)”
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I think this is a beautiful reading of the use of color in Autobiography of Red. A quick note on Argentine parrots that furthers the perplexing statement Herakles makes that you astutely focus on: most species of parrots in Argentina are macaws, most of which HAVE RED ON THEM. So, not only is Herakles not seeing Geryon’s red, he is either blind to, or ignoring, the red of others as well. I think this is because he is incapable of seeing Geryon, or anything of him, in any being. Herakles is so incredibly self-absorbed that he is unable to see who his lovers really are (not just with Geryon, but Ancash as well).
I do wonder a lot about the extent to which Herakles was able to see Ancash’s differences as well, since we know he is ethnically different from Herakles. We see some linguistic recognition (with Herakles fumbling words in Ancash’s native language), but I don’t recall any discussion from Herakles about Ancash’s physicality. Is it just Geryon he is blind to, or is it everyone other than himself?
Really insightful post! I enjoyed reading this. Something about your line “There are those who can see red and those who cannot” brought me back to The Giver by Lois Lowry, which I hadn’t made a connection to previously. Of course, The Giver is trying to tell a very different story than Autobiography of Red, but I do think that same idea of who can see color and why that is important is applicable here. This line – “Which is ironic considering Geryon loves him” – also stuck out to me because, as you aptly observe Geryon loves Herakles, but Herakles (at least to my estimation) does not love Geryon. And if to love someone is to see them clearly, would that not make sense as to why Herakles can’t see Geryon’s redness then? Geryon is not someone who Herakles cares to understand, which manifests in his inability to see the color red. And I think the bird you’re associating with pirates is the scarlet macaw. 🙂
I loved this post MusicLover28! I really like your point about parrots, that detail stood out to me too! Red seems like the most obvious color when you think of parrots, and the fact that Herakles doesn’t mention it feels really significant, almost like he’s blind to Geryon’s inner world.
I also really like how you connected the lack of red to Herakles’s inability to “read” people. It makes me think about how color isn’t just visual in Autobiography of Red, it’s emotional and relational too. Herakles missing red feels like him missing a whole layer of depth when it comes to Geryon, and maybe with everyone else too. The contrast you pointed out between Herakles and Ancash is so important, Ancash seems able to actually see Geryon in a way Herakles never could.
The way Carson uses white is something I want to pay more attention to now that you brought it up. It’s unsettling how white in the book often feels like emptiness or coldness instead of purity or newness. It definitely makes the way Geryon sees Herakles at the end feel even more heartbreaking.