Lia Purpura’s “Autopsy Report” was a visceral and detailed recounting of her first experience watching a human body dissected. The first page. Autopsy Report Summary of the story; The start and the end; Lia’s amazing sense of using poems and strong words to the story Lia Purpura. Here, for example, is Lia Purpura in a too-bright room, in an essay entitled ” Autopsy Report”: I shall begin . →”Autopsy Report” by Lia Purpura.

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Her perceptions of things like death and family are presented in such a deeper way that it reort you really think in a new light. His ribs like steppes, ice-shelves, sandstone. I think that that is very relatable to everybody, in the sense that death can change how we perceive things. I think all of her essays in some way embody that question: How do we reprt death?

What Lia Purpura succeeds in is not only language, but using that language to express a larger question underneath. While reading Lia Purpura, I began immediately attached to the narrator.

I felt very close to each one, like they were sitting me down and explaining he world through their eyes to me. In “On Aesthetics” I felt like the narrator was depicting this story to me and wanted me to envision it, yet through her eyes, how she autopzy it. To me that tone and structure worked and I found that I enjoyed reading it.

Finding empathy in the essay

When it came to the meaning of her writing, I have to say I found myself lost. Like her language became an opened ended question that I could explore. When she is telling the story of the young mother and son, I had to re-read it a couple of times to try to grasp the meaning.

In “Autopsy” her images are strong and she depicts the body and shows us the “sharp pelvic bones” and “His ribs like steppes.

Fury Tales: Spring Lia Purpura: “Autopsy” and “On Aesthetics” and “On Form”

For some reason her narrative voice seems much more intimate to me than any other we have read. My roommate was telling me how Lia Purpura was going to be coming to her poetry class next week, and that made a lot of sense to me.

Ppurpura color of holly berries, chokeable, dangerous, we keep from out son. I thought that the first piece we read, Autopsy Report, was actually really gross. She did a good job of showing, but it was an unpleasant image. Purpura did this with all of the pieces we read and did a wonderful job about it. With all of her word choices, I could definitely see the poetic side of Lia Purpura.

Reading Purpura’s essays felt a less like reading an essay and more like having a conversation with the author. In a way, it almost felt like Purpura was unburdening herself to me, through a very intimate but at the same time distanced conversation.

I say this because, while her essays were very intimate, I got the impression that she was only telling us what she wanted us to know, and was forcing us to fill in the spaces ourselves.

I really liked liia technique, because it left me wanted more, while still coming away from the essay with a feeling of satisfaction.

I also loved her use of concrete details- a few people already have mentioned her descriptions of the bodies in the morgue, which really stuck out to me. I think the think that stuck out to me most was her description of the laser on the baby’s head. At first the way she described it was so abstract that I couldn’t understand what was happening just like the mother couldn’t understand what was happening.


I also liked how she used very innocuous things like a button to describe in reality something that could be very dangerous. To me, it really helped set the scene and made it very effective.

I guess I should have realized this from the title reort. When reading the lines, “I shall Soaked black with blood, his stiffening sleeve. I also agree that the language of each essay was poetic. I truly admire prose writing that is written in poetic language. People often associate poetry and prose re;ort two unique forms, but I think they compliment each other really purura. Death gowned and dancing, scythe raised and cape blowing, leading the others, at dusk, repoort a mountain.

It allows the reader teport see the world in these stories from the narrator’s eyes and envision everything repirt the same way. This may seem like a common goal for most writers, but with Purpura’s poetic language we are able to see this world naturally and clearly. The language is poetry’s process of accumulation, but it is in the folding that makes these pieces essays. The book enacts its aesthetic by circumscribing, cutting, outlining its vision rather than explicating, connecting or declaring.

Pirpura see this in the mental associations as well. She herself is a mother, and she speaks to the teenage mother with the reminder that this is something maybe the only thing?

And it structures how the narrator thinks, speaks, and then later on it shapes purrpura she reflects on herself. I liked the way she cut up her thoughts and layered them together, making them, as Walker said, essays rather than poetry. I still consider her language rich and poetic nonetheless. Honestly, I didn’t puprura that they were nonfiction either. The fact that someone can write so poetically about true events, such as “Autopsy Report,” blows my mind. The imagery was fantastic.

I couldn’t believe what I was reading, with sentences like “It was calm that came forth while atuopsy brain was removed, while the brain, heavy and grey and wet, was fileted with an enormous knife, one hand on ppurpura to keep it from jiggling. And I know everyone has been talking about “Autopsy Report,” but there is something so raw about it. To me, it showed people in their truest, most open form, which is what the narrator talked about. How familiar it is for the body to be open.

It really is, too, so natural for the body to be open. That is how humans function, and in light of death, we are completely opened for the last time. Something was so comforting and chilling about that thought while I read the story.

I am completely blown away by Purpura. I enjoyed that she was really just somebody looking at a situation, perceiving it, and I think we learn enough about her form the way she perceives certain situations either similarly or differently than how we would perceive the same situation.

Her details are great and they help with this. Sometimes her details were even disturbing and I think that is exactly what she had intended.

I’ll agree with pretty much everyone that Purpura is the most poetic author we’ve read so far and I loved reading her. The descriptions of the bodies in “Autopsy Report” were, like everyone else is saying, so evocative and just filled with imagery. I think “On Aesthetics” was my favorite piece. Like Fran, I appreciated the fact that she wasn’t so concrete at first when describing the laser point on the baby’s head and I didn’t completely understand what was going on.

Later on though, it becomes more obvious, but she doesn’t drop the imagery and poetic language. The imagery is “Autopsy Report” was fantasically grotesque. I think I actually cringed a few times while reading it, which just goes to show how awesome the language is that it actually evoked a physical reaction.


Overall, I think Lia Purpura is one of my favorite authors out of those we’ve read this semester. The teenager tells her story and the narrator gives her the reason why the boys would do such a thing: But she knew it was more than that—that it was all about how one perceives something, whether it is funny or stupid or completely wrong.

Lia Purpura’s “Autopsy Report”

I really enjoyed reading Purpura because like everyone above stated her writing was so poetic and just beautiful really. Never have I ever read any stories written as great as hers and I think you can really tell that she put a lot of thought into each and every single word in each sentence. She does a great job making the words on the page come alive, not only through description but also through thoughts in the narrator’s head.

In “Autopsy Report,” I was drawn to the way in which she wrote and I loved how she described each organ repotr part of the body as it was being taken out. I found it disgusting because I could imagine it as she went on in the story, but at the same time I really appreciated it because not many people could accomplish such a vivid level purpjra description like her. Overall, I can’t wait to read more of her short stories and I think that her style of writing is one in which everyone should read or experience because it definitely puepura a treat to those that are reading.

I, too, found Purpura’s writing to feel like prose written by a poet. I kind of wasn’t surprised, since for my poetry class we’re reading her book, King Baby. I can see lots of similarities between the two. The descriptions, for example, are always spot on. It’s easy to see inside the human body in “Autopsy Report,” even if you never have seen another representation or real life cadaver.

It was gruesome, and sweet, and weirdly intimate. That one is definitely my favorite of the three. Rfport, I just saw somebody above say these are nonfiction? That can’t be right, not because these stories feel fake, rpeort because they are dressed up so nicely in description and told so much like any of the other stories we auropsy been reading that I am really surprised. That’s also interesting because even her book of poetry is nonfiction. Or at least as nonfiction as poetry can be.

It is all about this weird little wooden sculpture thing her son finds in the river. Even that gets described so well that it feels as though it’s so much better than real life that it couldn’t possibly be nonfiction. Thursday, October 11, Lia Purpura: In her essay ‘On Aesthetics,’ Purpura provides a metaphoric key instructing readers how to read this book.

She describes a baby who sits on his mother’s lap while the neighbor boys across the street draw a bead on his head—the red eye of the rifle scope marks the baby’s forehead: The color of holly berries, chokeable, dangerous, we keep from our son. When Purpura successfully aligns our sight with hers, the combined power of that vision evokes much more than image. Purpura “does her looking reeport an li capacity to see the unseen, to bring word to the unspoken.

Redemption comes from looking. Just look, she pleads. I wondered about her, reprt her to reveal herself in the manner of most nonfiction, even as I remain at a safe, blanketed distance. Then I realized that this nonfiction is different from much of what I’ve read.

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