Week 5 – Labyrinths

This week’s reading was something I have never once experienced. Never before have I read a book, held the pages in my hands, and been so utterly annoyed, angered, and bewildered by the words in front of my eyes. I went into Borges’ collection of short stories knowing, from the title, that his fictions would contain trickery, they would be dense and confusing. I also was aware, as per the back of the book, that Borges was a very esteemed writer who compiled many themes and genres into his work. None of these factors, sadly, could save my brain from the headache that was reading (and thereby attempting to decipher) these stories.

I initially tried to piece together the shards of reality Borges threw at me. I saw pieces of historical fiction pretending to be nonfiction, utterances of Latin, religious texts, public figures I’m sure are famous but of whom I have never heard. I attempted to approach each new story with fresh eyes, understanding that, beneath all the impenetrable vocabulary and pretentious references, there was going to be a story. In my case, I was never able to remotely enjoy, much less comprehend, any of Borges’ observations, and was left utterly puzzled and irate at the thought of picking the book up again and reading another story. (By some miracle, I did read all the fictions).

This week’s lecture brought up a lot of points that I thought were interesting, but completely missed me; I was so caught up in perplexity of Borges’ characters and incongruous ‘plots’ that any enjoyment of themes, or discovery of through-lines used in multiple stories was lost on me. In this way, perhaps it can be said that Borges succeeded in leading me through a labyrinth of stories, one that I unfortunately got very lost in.

As far as the fictions go, I suppose the one I was the least confused by/angered at was The Library of Babel. I enjoyed it visualizations of the hexagonal library that is the universe; however, a little further into this story I completely fell off track and lost sight of any semblance of comprehensible story/fiction/theme/anything.

It disappoints me that my blog this week is so negative and without reflection, but I suppose I can only write about my experience with the weekly text, and I believe that’s what I’ve done. Reading Borges’ Labyrinths was like having a long conversation with a very well-educated, though unfortunately self-important and arrogant, intellectual; the entire time I have no idea what is going on, and I leave feeling stupid yet simultaneously relieved I never have to do that again.

My question for readers: what emotions did you feel while reading Borges’ stories? Did these stories intrigue you or confuse you?

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