Books, Fiction

Collected Fictions of Jorge Louis Borges

21 December 2003

I have lately become quite enchanted with Jorge Luis Borges. What a pitty that he did not get the Noble Prize for his work! I hereby bestow upon him the Murmann Prize! If you don’t enjoy his work,  write to me and I may give you back the money you spent on Borges.

Read his story Funes, the Memorious.

Funes, the Memorious

I remember him (I scarcely have the right to use this ghostly verb; only one man on earth deserved the right, and he is dead), I remember him with a dark passionflower in his hand, looking at it as no one has ever looked at such a flower, though they might look from the twilight of day until the twilight of night, for a whole life long. I remember him, his face immobile and Indian-like, and singularly remote, behind his cigarette. I remember (I believe) the strong delicate fingers of the plainsman who can braid leather. I remember, near those hands, a vessel in which to make mat



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