Borges Better - The Immortal
There are writers you read to learn a story. Then there are writers you read to unlearn time.
The Immortal Borges: Labyrinths, Mirrors, and the Man Who Outlived Himself
Jorge Luis Borges belongs to the latter — a blind librarian who saw infinity in a chessboard, a man who wrote essays disguised as fiction and fiction disguised as footnotes. But more than anything, Borges wrote about immortality — not as a blessing, but as a beautiful, terrifying labyrinth.
In his story “The Immortal” (from The Aleph ), Borges tells of a Roman soldier who drinks from a cursed river and stops dying. He wanders the earth for centuries, forgetting his own name, living among primitive troglodytes — only to realize, eventually, that those grunting creatures are the immortals. They have no need for language, for memory, for love. Why write a poem when you have forever to write all poems? Why love one person when you can outlast every face?
— For JLB, who is still dreaming us. Would you like a shorter version for Twitter/X or a Spanish translation of this post?
To read Borges is to enter a hall of mirrors. You think you’re reading about a Chinese emperor’s map, or a library of hexagonal rooms, or a man who dreams another man — but really, you’re reading about reading. About the shimmering impossibility of a final page.
Share the Post
