ficciones

jorge luis borges (1962)

this is a collection of short stories by the argentine author. it contains two parts -
part one: the garden of forking paths
part two: artifices

i will be reviewing a couple stories without regard to the reader's having read this book. so if you want to read it and don't want to know how these stories end...don't read on. it is a good collection though, very different from anything i've read. the stories are so short they have to be rich with imagination and description. they are.

each story is quite different, some non-fiction-type, comedy, adventure and others more fantasy. the stories are pretty short. in tlön, uqbar, orbis tertius the writer talks of a country called uqbar. it is an entirely mysterious country as it is included in a certain volume of the encyclopedia but not others.

one of the heresiarchs of uqbar had stated that mirrors and copulation are abominable, since they both multiply the numbers of man.

while not entirely important to the story i thought it was a funny and true statement. a quote found in the article on uqbar of course.

in pierre menard, author of the quixote, the author writes a critique of a made up author by the name of pierre menard, who is writing a book to

produce pages which would coincide - word for word and line for line - with those of miguel de cervantes.

i find this very amusing. especially since it was his aim "never to produce a mechanical transcription of the original" but merely coincide with the story. it would be the perfect book to re-write without changing. don quixote is definitely a great book, very entertaining to say the least!

the circular ruins was one of my favorite stories in this collection. it is basically about a wizard who dreams into being another person. it is in these dreams that he creates this being. at first he dreamt a heart.

every night he perceived it more clearly. he did not touch it; he only permitted himself to witness it, to observe it, and occasionally to rectify it with a glance

slowly, every night of dreaming he did more work on his "son". it took years to painstakingly imagine every little detail. sometimes he had to re-dream a part. finally he was ready to be introduced in the world, but was forced to send him off to a faraway temple. curious, the wizard seeks to find his creation, only to find the sanctuary up in flames. he walked into the flames but they did not hurt him.

they did not bite his flesh, they caressed him and flooded him without heat or combustion. with relief, with humiliation, with terror, he understood that he also was an illusion, that someone else was dreaming him.

i've always felt that maybe i was a part of someone's dream. or that all my life was me dreaming and that when i was sleeping, it was my real life.

the secret miracle was about a writer named hladik during the war who is arrested for being jewish and sentenced to death. he is working through his unfinished book, writing and rewriting parts of it.

hladik had never asked himself whether this tragicomedy of errors was preposterous or admirable, deliberate or casual.

he then asks god for a year to finish his book. he wakes the next morning and is taken out to the firing squad. shots are about to be fired when all stops. everyone and everything freezes, including hladik. he is conscious and is granted his year but cannot move. he meticulously goes through each and ever part of the book, editing and writing. he is finished except for one part, which he finally figures out then time starts again. he is killed by the firing squad.