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192 pages, Paperback
First published December 4, 2012
‘—a man of many worlds and moods—To talk closely to Jorge Luis Borges is to track him through a labyrinth of his past experiences and attitudes, and the walls that one encounters in the search might be painted in unexpected ways. These may furnish clues or merely diversions in the pursuit, but to understand Borges at least partially is to realise that these clues and diversions are the Borges. We must not expect to find Borges the same each time. There is not one Borges, but many.’
‘—when one cannot read, then one’s mind works in a different way. In fact, it might be said that there is a certain benefit in being unable to read, because you think that time flows in a different way. When I had my eyesight, then if I had to spend say a half an hour without doing anything, I would go mad. Because I had to be reading. But now, I can be alone for quite a long time, I don’t mind long railroad journeys, I don’t mind being alone in a hotel or walking down the street, because, well, I won’t say that I am thinking all the time because that would be bragging.’
‘BORGES: I’ve been angry perhaps, well, I’m almost seventy, I feel I’ve been angry four or five times in my life, not more than that.
BURGIN: That’s remarkable. You were angry at Perón, certainly.
BORGES: Yes. That was different.’
‘And also I felt there might be something true in the idea of a monster wanting to be killed, needing to be killed, no? Knowing itself masterless. I mean, he knew all the time there was something awful about him, so he must have felt thankful to the hero who killed him.
Now during the Second World War, I wrote many articles on the war, and in one of them I said that Hitler would be defeated because in his heart of hearts he really wanted defeat. He knew that the whole scheme of Nazism and world empire, all that was preposterous, or perhaps he might have felt that the tragic ending was a better ending than the other, because I don’t think that Hitler could have believed in all that stuff about the Germanic race and so on.’
‘When I was a young man I thought Dostoevsky was the greatest novelist. And then after ten years or so, when I reread him, I felt greatly disappointed. I felt that the characters were unreal and that also the characters were part of a plot. Because in real life, even in a difficult situation, even when you are worrying very much about something, even when you feel anguish or when you feel hatred—well, I’ve never felt hatred—or love or fury maybe, you also live along other lines, no? I mean, a man is in love, but at the same time he is interested in the cinema, or he is thinking about mathematics or poetry or politics, while in novels, in most novels, the characters are simply living through what’s happening to them. No, that might be the case with very simple people, but I don’t see, I don’t think that happens.’
‘BORGES: No. I think that people who have no philosophy live a poor kind of life, no? People who are too sure about reality and about themselves. I think that philosophy helps you to live. For example, if you think of life as a dream, there may be something gruesome or uncanny about it, and you may sometimes feel that you are living in a nightmare, but if you think of reality as something hard and fast, that’s still worse, no? I think that philosophy may give the world a kind of haziness, but that haziness is all to the good. If you’re a materialist, if you believe in hard and fast things, then you’re tied down by reality, or by what you call reality. So that, in a sense, philosophy dissolves reality, but as reality is not always too pleasant, you will be helped by the dissolution. Well, those are very obvious thoughts, of course, though they are nonetheless true for being obvious.’
‘I have no message. I know little about contemporary life. I don’t read newspapers. I dislike politics and politicians. I belong to no party whatsoever. My private life is a private life. I try to avoid photography and publicity—In Rio de Janeiro, there, nobody knew my name. I did feel invisible there. And somehow, publicity has found me. What can I do about it? I don’t look for it. It has found me—.’
‘LÓPEZ LECUBE: You said once that you have always been in love with a woman.
BORGES: Yes, but the women have changed over time.
LÓPEZ LECUBE: Have you had so many loves?
BORGES: I asked my sister about her first love and she said to me, “I don’t remember much from my life but I know that I’ve been in love since I was four years old,” and as far as I remember I have always been in love, but the people change. The love is always the same, and the person is always unique, even if she is different.
LÓPEZ LECUBE: Who is that unique person?
BORGES: There have been so many that I’ve lost track.
LÓPEZ LECUBE: Have you been in love with many women?
BORGES: It would be very strange if I hadn’t.
LÓPEZ LECUBE: Because I would say that actually one has very few great loves.
BORGES: All love is great, love doesn’t come in different sizes, whenever one is in love, they’re in love with a unique person. Maybe every person is unique, maybe when one is in love they see a person as they really are, or how God sees them. If not, why fall in love with them? Maybe every person is unique, I could go further: maybe every ant is unique, if not why are there so many of them? Why else would God like ants so much? There are millions of ants and each one is undoubtedly as individual as, well, as Shakespeare or Walt Whitman. Every ant is undoubtedly unique. And every person is unique.
LÓPEZ LECUBE: Like women …? The species known as woman?
BORGES: I think that they’re more sensible than men, I have no doubt that if women governed countries, there would be no wars, men are irrational, they’ve evolved that way, women too.
LÓPEZ LECUBE: So why aren’t women allowed to govern countries?
BORGES: Well, they probably have somewhere … I was talking to Alicia Moreau de Justo who seems a miraculous person to me; she’s about to turn a hundred and she speaks so fluently. She can put together long, complex phrases and each phrase has a certain elegance. I was genuinely amazed for the first time in my life—.’
‘But as I think of the many myths, there is one that is very harmful, and that is the myth of countries. I mean, why should I think of myself as being an Argentine, and not a Chilean, and not an Uruguayan. I don’t know really. All of those myths that we impose on ourselves—and they make for hatred, for war, for enmity—are very harmful. Well, I suppose in the long run, governments and countries will die out and we’ll be just, well, cosmopolitans.’
Believe me: The benefits of blindness have been greatly exaggerated. If I could see, I would never leave the house, I'd stay indoors reading the many books that surround me. Now they're as far away from me as Iceland, although I've been to Iceland twice and I will never reach my books. And yet, at the same time, the fact that I can't read obliges me ... to dream and imagine.In the last decade or so before his death, there have been few new works from Borges, but there have been numerous published interviews. The three in this book run the gamut from the very simpatico and knowledgeable interview by Richard Burgin, to the rather scattered questions by three young men from Artful Dodge, an Ohio literary magazine, to the very last interview Borges gave, to Gloria Lopez Lecube from Argentina's La Isla Radio.
"But the tale itself should be its own reality, no? People never accept that. They like to think that writers are aiming at something. In fact, I think that most people think—of course they won't say so to themselves or to anybody else—they think of literature as being a kind of Aesop's Fables, no? Everything is written to prove something—not for the sheer pleasure of writing it, or for the sheer interest a writer may have in the characters or in the situation or in whatever it may be, no? I think that people are always looking for some kind of lesson, no?" (86)I have read a bunch of the books in the Last Interview series, which tend to be hit-and-miss quality-wise—both in terms of content and editing (they are often riddled with mistakes). They're generally fun to read, though, and the Borges volume was no exception. The bulk of the interviews are with one person, Richard Burgin, who published his own book containing his conversations with Borges. In that sense, the Last Interview doesn't add all that much, even if it does include two other interviews that are worthwhile. I find that Borges's perspective on things—especially literature—is always interesting and thought-provoking, even if I don't always agree with him.
"I think that all writing comes out of unhappiness. I suppose that when Mark Twain was writing about the Mississippi and about the rafts, I suppose he was simply looking at his own past, no? He had a kind of homesickness for the Mississippi... Of course, when you're happy you don't need anything, no? " (121)