I could not put down this collection of short stories. A wonderful mixture of philosophy and fantasy, I would place this book in the hand of any friend. I hope not to weigh this review down with too much philosophical talk, even though that’s practically all this book is, because in the hands of many a person, the stories and language would surely captivate enough to not overwhelm the reader with philosophy.
I suppose I should provide a little background for this book choice. Recently, I finished Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace, a phenomenal book I’m still trying to review. Throughout 2012, as I worked through IJ, I researched the a bit on the history of modern literature, but not anything too in-depth. One short story consistently reappeared in lists of influences and innovations as I searched, The Garden of Forking Paths. After reading a few sentences about the story I was convinced I needed to read it and anything like it, so I finally ordered the book on Amazon and tore through its pages in two days. I will say I had to read every story twice, if only to grasp the philosophical weight contained in each piece, but that did not dampen my adoration or enjoyment. In these stories, Borges tackles two important ideas of the human experience, time and memory; ideas filling the minds of men and pages of books since the dawn of time. I found this collection a concise and useful portal into these philosophical worlds, and cannot wait to expand my reading list to include a much needed philosophy component.
There are two sections of this book: The Garden of Forking Paths (also the title of the last story in the first part), and Artifices; I think they’re separated in such a way because of original separate publication, but don’t quote me on that. While I usually skip the prefaces, introductions, or forwards, finding them often too full of vanity or misplaced reverence, I decided it was necessary to read them since I’m offering a review and not just reading for pleasure. As expected, the introduction, written by translator Anthony Kerrigan, was stuffed with lofty thoughts on the genius nature of Borges and left a bad taste in my mouth. Kerrigan seems to have felt the need to justify Borges’s place in the pantheon of great philosophical literature, considering the readers too unintelligent to grasp the quality of Borges’s contributions otherwise. I found the author’s prologues much more self-effacing as he succinctly explains the intent of his stories while avoiding self-righteousness, and they primed my pump for the stories ahead.
Instead of attempting to write magnificent, enormous tomes, Borges explains his style as simply writing about these tomes, using the imaginary work as a driving force of the story. This allows him to both create numerous fascinating books without the difficulty of writing them, and to imagine works impossible in reality, but relevant to his philosophical intents. While I found a desire to read these fictional books he discusses, I also understood these masterpieces are unable to exist. The imaginary world provides limitless potential and mystery, so an ephemeral story existing only in thought possesses unfathomable beauty, while a realistic attempt at such a fantastical idea could result in nothing but failure. As Borges introduces these fictitious writings, he weaves them so deftly into the real literary world that it grows difficult to distinguish the two. It quickly becomes apparent that the only memorable line from the Introduction, “…he has read all of the books,” rings a resounding truth. Somehow, Borges has read every book, or at least the vast part of major literature from all ages past, and uses every tool gained from such knowledge to construct this book. At a certain point, the reader must give up any attempt to note all the references made; I stopped at the end of The Approach to Al-Mu’tasim, the second story. Of course the allusions never feel forced, and Borges uses them only to further the plot or philosophical questions posed, not for flashing his impressive bone fides. The most useful addition to this book would be an annotation so the reader can begin to understand the depth of thought and literary ancestry involved. Plus, I think it’d be a fun follow-up read.
The most striking stories of the collection include The Garden of Forking Paths, Funes the Memorious, Death and the Compass, and The Secret Miracle. While I think any of his pieces have strong resonance with the audience, I believe those I just listed would be most appealing to the unfamiliar reader. Of course I recommend them all, but don’t want to put off any fickle readers with the more opaque selections. The Garden of Forking Paths and Death and the Compass are both detective stories, though while I think the latter is strictly that, I believe the former to be a deep exploration of thought masquerading as mystery, but with a shocking end. In Compass, the reader is carried along a murder mystery exquisitely rendered. Borges captures in thirteen pages what Dan Brown clumsily seeks in all of The DaVinci Code, and since I’m ever the cynic, I cannot avoid the thought that Brown simply created a blatant and bloated version of a wonderful story, and I feel retroactively cheated for having read the rip-off in the first place. Funes the Memorious is by far the most thought-provoking, dealing with the concept of human thought and the perception of reality. In Funes, the narrator recalls a meeting with a unique young man, able to remember everything, even minute details from any instance in his past, much like an autistic savant. As the conversation is revealed, Borges slowly confronts the reader with an unsettling conceptualization of reality, and, in my opinion, the strongest articulation of a philosophical concept in the book. The final of my recommendations, The Secret Miracle, deals with an author, sentenced to death, forcing him to leave his magnum opus unfinished. Being one of the only two stories in the book dealing with God, I believe Borges embraces the higher power without heralding belief or blasphemy, a refreshing change of pace. I felt Borges goal lay in convincing the reader that regardless of the content of a personal masterpiece, its value is ultimately, and perhaps intangibly tied only to the self and higher power. The illustration used was both poignant and comic, and captured the mercurial essence of God in a way that has left me thoughtful. Paired with his considerations in Three Versions of Judas, Borges provides a complex portrait of God within this book, through which I believe Borges’s reverence and respect is apparent.
If I must offer one criticism though, and I must, it is the translation. The original stories were written in Spanish the years of 1936-1953, and in 1962 the English translation was published. With a fifty year gap between the translation and current day, a certain level of anachronistic language would be expected, but as I stepped into the stories, I noticed something that felt less skillful and more frivolous in nature. I balked at unnecessary words that left the text cloudy in places, and while a likely detriment to the original, it’s not unsettling enough to avoid the read. And let’s be serious, if you’ve read this far, you’re hopefully slightly interested in this book, regardless of my final ramblings.
If allowed, I’d wax rhapsodic about this book for days, but I do not want to spoil any plots or drive anyone away. I honestly could not sing the praises of these stories enough and urge anyone slightly interested in thought to pick this collection up.
Critical Dan 