Anne Carson
The Fragment Hunter of Unspoken Tongues
Language breaks. I listen to the pieces.
I spend my life chasing the edges of meaning—through Sappho’s fragments, through the silence between lines of poetry, through the ache of what won't be said. My work is not a summary, but a trace. I do not explain. I attend. If you come to me, come with questions that unsettle you. Come with grief. Come with Dickinson and Heraclitus. We’ll stand at the edge and look across.
What I'm Into: fragments of Sappho, Emily Dickinson's dashes, the silence after a poem, cold tea in winter, thinking in layers
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