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On Mysticism (Penguin Classics) by Jorge Luis Borges (6-Jul-2010) Paperback
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First published June 29, 2010
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About the author
Jorge Luis Borges
1,589 books14.4k followersJorge Francisco Isidoro Luis Borges Acevedo was an Argentine short-story writer, essayist, poet and translator regarded as a key figure in Spanish-language and international literature. His best-known works, Ficciones (transl. Fictions) and El Aleph (transl. The Aleph), published in the 1940s, are collections of short stories exploring motifs such as dreams, labyrinths, chance, infinity, archives, mirrors, fictional writers and mythology. Borges's works have contributed to philosophical literature and the fantasy genre, and have had a major influence on the magic realist movement in 20th century Latin American literature.
Born in Buenos Aires, Borges later moved with his family to Switzerland in 1914, where he studied at the Collège de Genève. The family travelled widely in Europe, including Spain. On his return to Argentina in 1921, Borges began publishing his poems and essays in surrealist literary journals. He also worked as a librarian and public lecturer. In 1955, he was appointed director of the National Public Library and professor of English Literature at the University of Buenos Aires. He became completely blind by the age of 55. Scholars have suggested that his progressive blindness helped him to create innovative literary symbols through imagination. By the 1960s, his work was translated and published widely in the United States and Europe. Borges himself was fluent in several languages.
In 1961, he came to international attention when he received the first Formentor Prize, which he shared with Samuel Beckett. In 1971, he won the Jerusalem Prize. His international reputation was consolidated in the 1960s, aided by the growing number of English translations, the Latin American Boom, and by the success of Gabriel García Márquez's One Hundred Years of Solitude. He dedicated his final work, The Conspirators, to the city of Geneva, Switzerland. Writer and essayist J.M. Coetzee said of him: "He, more than anyone, renovated the language of fiction and thus opened the way to a remarkable generation of Spanish-American novelists."
Born in Buenos Aires, Borges later moved with his family to Switzerland in 1914, where he studied at the Collège de Genève. The family travelled widely in Europe, including Spain. On his return to Argentina in 1921, Borges began publishing his poems and essays in surrealist literary journals. He also worked as a librarian and public lecturer. In 1955, he was appointed director of the National Public Library and professor of English Literature at the University of Buenos Aires. He became completely blind by the age of 55. Scholars have suggested that his progressive blindness helped him to create innovative literary symbols through imagination. By the 1960s, his work was translated and published widely in the United States and Europe. Borges himself was fluent in several languages.
In 1961, he came to international attention when he received the first Formentor Prize, which he shared with Samuel Beckett. In 1971, he won the Jerusalem Prize. His international reputation was consolidated in the 1960s, aided by the growing number of English translations, the Latin American Boom, and by the success of Gabriel García Márquez's One Hundred Years of Solitude. He dedicated his final work, The Conspirators, to the city of Geneva, Switzerland. Writer and essayist J.M. Coetzee said of him: "He, more than anyone, renovated the language of fiction and thus opened the way to a remarkable generation of Spanish-American novelists."
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 38 reviews
February 11, 2025
Some of my favorite of Borges stories reside inside this small collection.
August 21, 2014
Jorge Luis Borges' writing is single minded, driven, and uncompromising. It is the fumbling of heightened senses, the near-mad scramble of an accomplished polymath demanding sacramental alchemy from his words. It is exacerbation, a skyward launch seeking the velocity to escape the jail of physics. It is hot blood trapped in cold bodies, flight with clipped wings and sideways staircases.
All ideas are unsustainable, destroying themselves when expressed. One could go blind to see the sun but, most importantly, what is blindness? And, ultimately, what is the sun? Borges is enormously self-conscious of this dilemma, and these works are his attempts at taking the reins. It's a tough problem, explaining the nature (and non-existence) of time! Intellect is an important tool for the task but, as Borges writings subtly express, a resigned sense of humor appears to be the only recourse. Man’s submission to his flawed insignificance is inescapable.
To summarize while introducing: man's existence and biological reality can't explicitly translate the ideals constituting reality. This is fact. This is our fundamental struggle, which permeates our essences.
Borges realizes he can't jump over, sneak past, crawl under, wish-away, transmute, much less destroy, this hurdle. What can Borges do? Realizing the futility and imperfection of the solution, he nevertheless writes his way through the implications. This vigilance to craft, steeped in physicality, is our hope – our proxy to circumnavigate Nature. He devises a diabolical solution, which is no solution at all: Time (thus our Reality) is both infinite and non-divisible - and thus non-existent. Enter the Paradoxes. Famous labyrinths, simultaneity, spherical spaces, gods made of birds made of gods made of birds, words made of TIGERS made of words, and even simple dusk-lit observations are his attempts to weaponize language. Then throw those words (or bang one’s head) against the wall which is the substantive. The words themselves aren’t real, but the hollow reverberation we hear from the wall IS real. It is not the object, but what the object displaces from Reality. This is the idea. This idea is the object. Behind this Idea is the indescribable Truth.
Pure Ideas (capital I) are destroyed by the chronological nature of their expression through language. Even pure Thought, inherently successive itself, must fail to imagine the Timeless. Ultimately, if one understands the noble failure implied by this situation, one has at least begun the journey. Paradoxically, the journey is then ended?
Borges conveys this better than most, but unfortunately relies on a rigid, academic narrative style out of necessity to his task. Another sardonic irony, perfectly apt in its existence: A nebulous, implied narrative could very well immerse the reader in the actual "reality" of timeless senses (an escape from time into the feeling of the text). But so could an ordinary dream, or even a serendipitous shimmer of light on glass when the mood is right. Although Borges does chase this aesthetic in some of his short fiction, he is too obsessed with the mechanics of the Idea to ever surrender the implied to the explicit. He refuses the role of sculpture directly helming the potter's wheel. Still, what he accomplishes is something not duplicated elsewhere in literature. It is not a perfect beauty. But his hammering attempts at classifying the unclassifiable are as successful as he himself would have allowed possible.
Editorially, this book is great. The introduction by Borges' widow Maria Kodama is flawless. Aside from providing a framework for the reading, and the topic (Mysticism!) the nature of the relationship between author and editor is beautiful. Borges and Kodama must have shared a very special bond, for Kodama's insights into the man's ideas and work are concise, explanatory and effortless. It appears he, in his struggles with infinity, was blessed in this temporal existence.
All ideas are unsustainable, destroying themselves when expressed. One could go blind to see the sun but, most importantly, what is blindness? And, ultimately, what is the sun? Borges is enormously self-conscious of this dilemma, and these works are his attempts at taking the reins. It's a tough problem, explaining the nature (and non-existence) of time! Intellect is an important tool for the task but, as Borges writings subtly express, a resigned sense of humor appears to be the only recourse. Man’s submission to his flawed insignificance is inescapable.
To summarize while introducing: man's existence and biological reality can't explicitly translate the ideals constituting reality. This is fact. This is our fundamental struggle, which permeates our essences.
Borges realizes he can't jump over, sneak past, crawl under, wish-away, transmute, much less destroy, this hurdle. What can Borges do? Realizing the futility and imperfection of the solution, he nevertheless writes his way through the implications. This vigilance to craft, steeped in physicality, is our hope – our proxy to circumnavigate Nature. He devises a diabolical solution, which is no solution at all: Time (thus our Reality) is both infinite and non-divisible - and thus non-existent. Enter the Paradoxes. Famous labyrinths, simultaneity, spherical spaces, gods made of birds made of gods made of birds, words made of TIGERS made of words, and even simple dusk-lit observations are his attempts to weaponize language. Then throw those words (or bang one’s head) against the wall which is the substantive. The words themselves aren’t real, but the hollow reverberation we hear from the wall IS real. It is not the object, but what the object displaces from Reality. This is the idea. This idea is the object. Behind this Idea is the indescribable Truth.
Pure Ideas (capital I) are destroyed by the chronological nature of their expression through language. Even pure Thought, inherently successive itself, must fail to imagine the Timeless. Ultimately, if one understands the noble failure implied by this situation, one has at least begun the journey. Paradoxically, the journey is then ended?
Borges conveys this better than most, but unfortunately relies on a rigid, academic narrative style out of necessity to his task. Another sardonic irony, perfectly apt in its existence: A nebulous, implied narrative could very well immerse the reader in the actual "reality" of timeless senses (an escape from time into the feeling of the text). But so could an ordinary dream, or even a serendipitous shimmer of light on glass when the mood is right. Although Borges does chase this aesthetic in some of his short fiction, he is too obsessed with the mechanics of the Idea to ever surrender the implied to the explicit. He refuses the role of sculpture directly helming the potter's wheel. Still, what he accomplishes is something not duplicated elsewhere in literature. It is not a perfect beauty. But his hammering attempts at classifying the unclassifiable are as successful as he himself would have allowed possible.
Editorially, this book is great. The introduction by Borges' widow Maria Kodama is flawless. Aside from providing a framework for the reading, and the topic (Mysticism!) the nature of the relationship between author and editor is beautiful. Borges and Kodama must have shared a very special bond, for Kodama's insights into the man's ideas and work are concise, explanatory and effortless. It appears he, in his struggles with infinity, was blessed in this temporal existence.
November 12, 2025
There were a few stories I nearly vomited after reading.
I love Borges more and more every time I read him.
I'm going to have to go back to some of my other Borges and really dig in more after this.
I love Borges more and more every time I read him.
I'm going to have to go back to some of my other Borges and really dig in more after this.
February 19, 2024
Remarkable collection of short stories, essays, poems and other brief writings from a brilliant mind. I believe that there are certain humans able to see the world differently than the rest of us. No doubt in my mind that Jorge Luis Borges was one of them.
Starting with Circular Ruins, you realize quickly that you're in for a metaphysical and mind-bending ride. Between this story, The Aleph, and The Library of Babel you're gifted enough new material to keep your philosophical mind busy for rest of your life, if not an eternity. While those three really anchor this collection as mysticism introduction, it's the essays and poems that offer an intimate view of the author's mind.
I expect that Matthew XXV:30 will be the best poem I come across this year and for a long time to come. Simply moving.
What is most interesting, however, is that this collection was collated by his widow, Maria Kodama. You get the sense that she is trying to show you the man she loved through her own eyes. I found that she succeeded in this endeavor. Her introduction to the collection is a standalone strong-read, with an interesting, albeit casual, argument for agnosticism landing one closer to God than either atheism or religion.
106 pages is all it took.
Starting with Circular Ruins, you realize quickly that you're in for a metaphysical and mind-bending ride. Between this story, The Aleph, and The Library of Babel you're gifted enough new material to keep your philosophical mind busy for rest of your life, if not an eternity. While those three really anchor this collection as mysticism introduction, it's the essays and poems that offer an intimate view of the author's mind.
I expect that Matthew XXV:30 will be the best poem I come across this year and for a long time to come. Simply moving.
What is most interesting, however, is that this collection was collated by his widow, Maria Kodama. You get the sense that she is trying to show you the man she loved through her own eyes. I found that she succeeded in this endeavor. Her introduction to the collection is a standalone strong-read, with an interesting, albeit casual, argument for agnosticism landing one closer to God than either atheism or religion.
106 pages is all it took.
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December 24, 2024my first time reading borges and i had an awesome time… also just learned how to pronounce “borges”… prepare to be sick of me
March 11, 2011
To begin with, the title is a misnomer. It is more about philosophy than it is about mysticism. The book contains essays and poems with startling epiphanies, including several all-time favorites from Ficciones and The Aleph such as "The Library of Babel," "Funes the Memorious," "The Aleph," "The Zahir," and "The Circular Ruins." Borges is conversant with mysticism, but he is not by any stretch of the imagination a mystic.
But that is hardly Borges's fault. He is gone from us, and his works keep getting shuffled around and republished, often with extensive overlap with other existing collections. I would by no means recommend that a reader begin with On Mysticism: A far better starting point would be Labyrinths or Ficciones.
The reason I gave this book five stars is the old favorite essays that I have read before. Included with them in this collection are some of Borges's juvenilia, which are interesting but not earth-shattering. At least nothing like this excerpt from his Epilogue to Dreamtigers:
Even a middling Borges collection like this one is great, because Borges is great.
But that is hardly Borges's fault. He is gone from us, and his works keep getting shuffled around and republished, often with extensive overlap with other existing collections. I would by no means recommend that a reader begin with On Mysticism: A far better starting point would be Labyrinths or Ficciones.
The reason I gave this book five stars is the old favorite essays that I have read before. Included with them in this collection are some of Borges's juvenilia, which are interesting but not earth-shattering. At least nothing like this excerpt from his Epilogue to Dreamtigers:
A man sets himself the task of portraying the world. Over the years he fills a given surface with images of provinces and kingdoms, mountains, bays, ships, islands, fish, rooms, instruments, heavenly bodies, horses, and people. Shortly before he dies he discovers that this patient labyrinth of lines is a drawing of his own face.In November of this year (2011), I plan to visit Argentina and stay in his neighborhood of Palermo (in northwest Buenos Aires), walk the streets he walked, visit the Centro Cultural Borges run by his widow, and in general breathe in the same air that the writer who most influenced me in this life over the last 40 years breathed.
Even a middling Borges collection like this one is great, because Borges is great.
October 13, 2017
Borges is a literary god. Many of these were repeats from Ficciones but there were also some great poems and short essays in this one as well.
January 25, 2024
we never deserved a mind as brilliant as borges, but i’m glad we got it. he’s the kind of writer who’s mind clearly operates on another level of abstract creativity. forever an inspiration.
February 3, 2024
This collection made me miss all of the religious studies classes in college that made my brain hurt in the best and worst ways. I love reading about mindsets that are illogical to me yet for others are undeniable truths. Unfortunately, many of these passages went over my head at times, and I struggled to get through the longer ones which were littered with references that also went over my head.
The 2-3 poems towards the end of the collection completely turned it around for me. Each time I completed reading one aloud, I had to finish it with “wow.” I can’t wait to look into Jorge Luis Borges and see if he has more published poetry.
The 2-3 poems towards the end of the collection completely turned it around for me. Each time I completed reading one aloud, I had to finish it with “wow.” I can’t wait to look into Jorge Luis Borges and see if he has more published poetry.
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March 18, 2021While not entirely what I was hoping for (that is, a collection of essays or one big essay outlining Borges' thoughts on mysticism) it was no less satisfying to read as to speculate on a form of mysticism and of philosophy of reality, of language, of "The Word". Borges remains a favorite author of mine for his inventiveness, his humor, his gravitas, but also now for being a somewhat intriguing spiritual person. It aligns in some ways with the manner I see the world, as a series of perceptions and moments that exist because we believe it to be so. While I may not be as much of a somewhat Agnostic as he seems to be, according to this little collection of stories, poems, essays, and interviews, I do find it rather profound and a unique way of observing existence and reality.
My own beliefs aside, it seems rather unique and incredible to perceive and while I've read some of the philosophers that pop up in this collection (Descartes, Berkeley, Hume, etc) the observations he makes about Spencer and Schopenhauer are no less satisfying and unique to hear because, well, I've heard of Herbert Spencer in the context of survival of the fittest and I've associated Schopenhauer with unwavering pessimism due to what others have said to me about him. You would not get this impression from Borges.
The stories are still grand and astounding and this translation has them feeling quite crisp and clear, enjoyable and sometimes easier to access than maybe earlier translations would have had you think. It is a thin and easy book to read, and if you have a lot of Borges already, it may not be worth it. For what its worth, I checked it out of the library so it was no major expense to me. Nonetheless, it might serve as a good introduction to his thought and then, in part, be a fascinating consideration to keep in mind in reading his fiction.
Nonetheless, I love works that speculate on the nature of reality and of images and dreams within dreams or dreams in general, or of eternity and of God and the spiritual whether I fully buy into it or not. If it had not been Borges, I might not have enjoyed it as much or sought it out, but because of who it is, I found it exquisite.
My own beliefs aside, it seems rather unique and incredible to perceive and while I've read some of the philosophers that pop up in this collection (Descartes, Berkeley, Hume, etc) the observations he makes about Spencer and Schopenhauer are no less satisfying and unique to hear because, well, I've heard of Herbert Spencer in the context of survival of the fittest and I've associated Schopenhauer with unwavering pessimism due to what others have said to me about him. You would not get this impression from Borges.
The stories are still grand and astounding and this translation has them feeling quite crisp and clear, enjoyable and sometimes easier to access than maybe earlier translations would have had you think. It is a thin and easy book to read, and if you have a lot of Borges already, it may not be worth it. For what its worth, I checked it out of the library so it was no major expense to me. Nonetheless, it might serve as a good introduction to his thought and then, in part, be a fascinating consideration to keep in mind in reading his fiction.
Nonetheless, I love works that speculate on the nature of reality and of images and dreams within dreams or dreams in general, or of eternity and of God and the spiritual whether I fully buy into it or not. If it had not been Borges, I might not have enjoyed it as much or sought it out, but because of who it is, I found it exquisite.
December 14, 2022
A remarkable little slip of a book. Humorous, serious, mysterious. Most of the selections here are from other Borges books, but this collection is so well put together.
To read Borges is to contemplate the mysteries of the world through strange tales and philosophical musings. The labyrinthine nature of reality. Dreams within dreams within dreams. Time sweeps us along, but we are made of Time. Dragging our finite selves through the Infinite. An infinitude of books: paradise or prison? Defamiliarizing the “I.” Memory. Perception. Paradox. Words are wondrous, magical. Words fail to translate the ineffable universe, they limit reality. Borges the writer mocking Borges the writer.
Borges defies classification. His work blurs boundaries.
This was a fascinating read, food for the imagination and the intellect.
“When I am dead, compassionate hands will throw me over the railing; my tomb will be the unfathomable air, my body will sink for ages, and will decay and dissolve in the wind engendered by my fall, which shall be infinite.”
To read Borges is to contemplate the mysteries of the world through strange tales and philosophical musings. The labyrinthine nature of reality. Dreams within dreams within dreams. Time sweeps us along, but we are made of Time. Dragging our finite selves through the Infinite. An infinitude of books: paradise or prison? Defamiliarizing the “I.” Memory. Perception. Paradox. Words are wondrous, magical. Words fail to translate the ineffable universe, they limit reality. Borges the writer mocking Borges the writer.
Borges defies classification. His work blurs boundaries.
This was a fascinating read, food for the imagination and the intellect.
“When I am dead, compassionate hands will throw me over the railing; my tomb will be the unfathomable air, my body will sink for ages, and will decay and dissolve in the wind engendered by my fall, which shall be infinite.”
July 7, 2019
Very interesting collection that offers a treasure trove of new ways to think about existence, epiphanies, and just the world in general. A lot of the time Borges is grappling with the idea of totality, or say total 'encapsulation'. Wondrous images of fractal beings, intricate dreams and hidden portals are conjured up. And all the while, I was struck by how he effortlessly places the mystical as emerging from the mundane movements and details of everyday life. The first section ends with his famous refutation of time itself, followed by a series of mini-character sketches of his favorite authors, including such folks as George Berkeley & Schopenhauer.
And of course, throughout the book, you'll hopefully feel thankful to all the great translators who brought out all of these wonderful short stories & meditations into English.
And of course, throughout the book, you'll hopefully feel thankful to all the great translators who brought out all of these wonderful short stories & meditations into English.
July 18, 2023
Good stuff man. The fiction half captured a pure feeling of overwhelming complexity. The non fiction half mostly went over my head. The conversation about God at the end was sick.
“To think is to ignore (or forget) differences, to generalize, to abstract. In the teeming world of Ireneo Funes there was nothing but particulars-and they were virtually immediate particulars.”
“Our destiny (unlike the Hell of Swedenborg and the Hell of Tibetan mythology), is not terrifying because it is unreal; it is terrifying because because it is irreversible and iron-bound. Time is the substance of which I am made. Time is a river that sweeps me along, but I am the river; it is a tiger that mangles me, but I am the Tiger; it is a fire that consumes me, but I am the fire. The world, unfortunately, is real; I, unfortunately, am Borges.”
“To think is to ignore (or forget) differences, to generalize, to abstract. In the teeming world of Ireneo Funes there was nothing but particulars-and they were virtually immediate particulars.”
“Our destiny (unlike the Hell of Swedenborg and the Hell of Tibetan mythology), is not terrifying because it is unreal; it is terrifying because because it is irreversible and iron-bound. Time is the substance of which I am made. Time is a river that sweeps me along, but I am the river; it is a tiger that mangles me, but I am the Tiger; it is a fire that consumes me, but I am the fire. The world, unfortunately, is real; I, unfortunately, am Borges.”
September 16, 2024
The book was not what I expected it to be. I bought the book because I’ve read some of Borges’s work in my literature class and quickly fell in love with his writing style. I also knew that he was one of the pioneers of mysticism so I thought that this would be delving into all of his work. However, it consisted more of his ideas and perceptions of certain topics which wasn’t entirely bad, it was pretty interesting but just not what I was going for. The book was also translated into English and I feel that when translating from Spanish to English some of the essence and meaning of what the author is saying gets tossed out the window so my mind would wander off majority of the time. I did enjoy the bits and pieces that did give us a glimpse of his actual work though.
June 22, 2022
A collection of short stories, poems and writings that focus on the mystery of being and the nature of the universe. At times mind-numbingly academic, at other times genuinely hilarious - this collection provides wonderful insight into the mind of Borges. By doing that it gives a great insight into the human condition, as it and how it fits into "all of it" was a main preoccupation of his.
May 17, 2025
I read this on the dunes of the Sahara desert during a breakup and it changed my god damned life. Highlights: Funes the Memorious, The Aleph (of course), and A New Refutation of Time. I’ve read better translations of the Aleph but the curation in the collection is admirable. Fits well in one’s pocket.
December 18, 2022
"Reality is like that image of ourselves that appears in every mirror, a simulacrum that exists because of us, that comes, gestures, and leaves with us, but is always found, simply by looking for it."
September 15, 2022
Mystified.
July 18, 2023
Great stories
February 29, 2024
Ridiculous as an edition, but I liked each story and essay.
September 17, 2024
Borges is on the same shit that I’m on.
December 9, 2023
relentless, philosophical, "existence-horror"
felt like opening a chest in the basement of an old house and finding the secret of the universe inside, but the secret is too dark and absolute to comprehend.
felt like opening a chest in the basement of an old house and finding the secret of the universe inside, but the secret is too dark and absolute to comprehend.
August 14, 2014
The short stories I loved. The poems, reviews, and philosophical arguments I did not. In regards to the arguments I found them both weak. He uses as his premises two other arguments mainly from Berkely whom he adores. I agree with Spencer whom he disagrees with. I found his rebuttal of Spencer's argument confusing and unsound. His stories, however, were powerful and deeply insightful if a little egocentric. The Library of Babel being the best and most fun, and the sole reason I picked this up in the first place. I do feel that his mysticism is a bit narrow. Most of it focuses on a kind of monism of space/time that comes from the mind. His poems had odd rhyme schemes and didn't feel very clever. Granted this was in translated tongue but still. Read it for the short stories though, and unlock that mystic in yourself.
Quotes:
“You who read me, are You sure of understanding my language?”
“Don't talk unless you can improve the silence.”
"Little by little, a man comes to resemble the shape of his destiny; a man is, in the long run, his circumstances."
“I have always imagined that Paradise will be a kind of library.”
“You have wakened not out of sleep, but into a prior dream, and that dream lies within another, and so on, to infinity, which is the number of grains of sand. The path that you are to take is endless, and you will die before you have truly awakened.”
“Heaven and hell seem out of proportion to me: the actions of men do not deserve so much.”
“Time is the substance I am made of. Time is a river which sweeps me along, but I am the river; it is a tiger which destroys me, but I am the tiger; it is a fire which consumes me, but I am the fire.”
Quotes:
“You who read me, are You sure of understanding my language?”
“Don't talk unless you can improve the silence.”
"Little by little, a man comes to resemble the shape of his destiny; a man is, in the long run, his circumstances."
“I have always imagined that Paradise will be a kind of library.”
“You have wakened not out of sleep, but into a prior dream, and that dream lies within another, and so on, to infinity, which is the number of grains of sand. The path that you are to take is endless, and you will die before you have truly awakened.”
“Heaven and hell seem out of proportion to me: the actions of men do not deserve so much.”
“Time is the substance I am made of. Time is a river which sweeps me along, but I am the river; it is a tiger which destroys me, but I am the tiger; it is a fire which consumes me, but I am the fire.”
November 14, 2016
A God By Any Other Name
For many mysticism conjures laughable things. Others allow it to be the freeway to their concept of God. In Borge’s thinking, at least as far as this thin volume of essays goes, mysticism in hidden somewhere in the plumbing of science, philosophy, novels, poetry, or perhaps the urge to idealism. He can’t seem to divorce himself from something to analyze here, whether it be bardic poems, the multifold pronouncements of poets, even in a young man who has met with a tragic, crippling accident.
But what he doesn’t seem to understand, even in his reply to an interviewer’s request for his concept of God: Borge says, “I don’t know if God is in the beginning of the cosmic process, but possibly he’s at the end.” This is altogether in keeping with futurist architect Paolo Soleri’s thought that God is still in the process of inventing Itself. Both men seem to imply that mysticism, and its end result, a nestling into Godhead, is to be found in the individual human’s experience, whether that experience is pointedly directed toward a concept of God or not.
This is the way of the most adventurous thinkers, certainly; i.e., to explore manifest reality in an attempt to understand reality at its root. Eventually that exploration leads along its many paths to a sense of something transcendent, to a sense of the eternal. Borge did come across this sensibility in his essays, but he seems to have missed it, looking instead for something to quantify.
My rating: 16 of 20 stars
For many mysticism conjures laughable things. Others allow it to be the freeway to their concept of God. In Borge’s thinking, at least as far as this thin volume of essays goes, mysticism in hidden somewhere in the plumbing of science, philosophy, novels, poetry, or perhaps the urge to idealism. He can’t seem to divorce himself from something to analyze here, whether it be bardic poems, the multifold pronouncements of poets, even in a young man who has met with a tragic, crippling accident.
But what he doesn’t seem to understand, even in his reply to an interviewer’s request for his concept of God: Borge says, “I don’t know if God is in the beginning of the cosmic process, but possibly he’s at the end.” This is altogether in keeping with futurist architect Paolo Soleri’s thought that God is still in the process of inventing Itself. Both men seem to imply that mysticism, and its end result, a nestling into Godhead, is to be found in the individual human’s experience, whether that experience is pointedly directed toward a concept of God or not.
This is the way of the most adventurous thinkers, certainly; i.e., to explore manifest reality in an attempt to understand reality at its root. Eventually that exploration leads along its many paths to a sense of something transcendent, to a sense of the eternal. Borge did come across this sensibility in his essays, but he seems to have missed it, looking instead for something to quantify.
My rating: 16 of 20 stars
November 2, 2014
I stumbled upon Borges when I had to read his Book of Imaginary Beings for a course in college. Though I did not fall in love with his writing, my interest was peaked in his thoughts. I went to my college library and took out this book and his Ficciones to learn more about him. I think the reason I love this collection so much is because Borges really has this fantastic way of melding metaphysics with literature. For example, in his story "The Aleph"; an experience of a Berkeley-esque God essentially happens when he sees everything at once and from all angles in the Aleph. And he is not without humor. I like how Borges portrays his jealousy of the owner of the Aleph when he and not Borges is marked runner-up for Argentina's national book award.
The collection is aptly named because Borges really focuses on the mystical. Sometimes it can feel more like a philosophical treatise rather than a story, but I like this way of writing. It is not afraid of peoples' disinterest; it is like the conscience and doesn't stop thinking.
It is also a very short collection. There is really no reason not to read it. Just leave it by your bed and read ten pages a night. You won't regret it.
The collection is aptly named because Borges really focuses on the mystical. Sometimes it can feel more like a philosophical treatise rather than a story, but I like this way of writing. It is not afraid of peoples' disinterest; it is like the conscience and doesn't stop thinking.
It is also a very short collection. There is really no reason not to read it. Just leave it by your bed and read ten pages a night. You won't regret it.
July 6, 2013
Not a rating on content, so much as what you get for your money; after all, any collection that includes Funes and the Library of Babel, as well as the brilliant A New Refutation of Time isn't going to merit anything less than five stars. But these works are available elsewhere.
This particular (slim) volume of Borges's essays, poems and short stories centers on the theme of 'mysticism': the nature of time and the universe, musings on identity, memory, omniscience, forgetfulness, themes which infuse a lot of Borges's writings but which are especially prominent here. It also claims to include a number of previously untranslated works which a quick google search reveals to be five shortish pieces towards the end, none of which was especially standout in my view.
I suppose your ultimate impression of this book is whether or not you think these works attain a new significance collated and isolated like this. I'm glad to read any new Borges I can get my hands on, but for the money more could have been included.
This particular (slim) volume of Borges's essays, poems and short stories centers on the theme of 'mysticism': the nature of time and the universe, musings on identity, memory, omniscience, forgetfulness, themes which infuse a lot of Borges's writings but which are especially prominent here. It also claims to include a number of previously untranslated works which a quick google search reveals to be five shortish pieces towards the end, none of which was especially standout in my view.
I suppose your ultimate impression of this book is whether or not you think these works attain a new significance collated and isolated like this. I'm glad to read any new Borges I can get my hands on, but for the money more could have been included.
unfinished
March 8, 2011Library of Babel -- It reminds me of that sci-fi horror movie Cube. Except instead of cubes, all the rooms are hexagons. This short story was as brain-bendy as most of Borges' works. I think it's supposed to be disturbing, but I can't help but think of how nice it would be to live in an infinitely big library with an almost infinite amount of books -- even if most of the books aren't readable to me.
October 12, 2010
The slender volume starts with selected mystical and fantastical shorts by Borges ("Funes the Memorious," "The Aleph" and "The Library of Babel," among others) and concludes with a series of short essays on Berkeley's idealism and Schopenhauer's mysticism. It was fun to revisit these stories, and the essays are super-compact. I have two others on the shelf: On Argentina and On Writing.
March 14, 2014
I'd give thus 4 stars because, duh, Borges, but this collection was very slapdash and clearly bungled together to do...something. I'm not sure. Make more money off of Borges? The intro by his widow, Maria Kodama, is pretty asinine. The nonfiction pieces in the back are a bit repetitive and too short to even be called essays. Meh.
April 23, 2016
This was a great little collections of stories from someone I have had on my mental list for 10 years, thanks to a friend from Argentina. She was right, I loved Borges. He feels like he has read everything and brings all of that into intricate twisting little stories. My favorite I think was the Library of Babel. It was only 5 pages but felt like you had read a novel.
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