Friday, June 25, 2004
"The writing of the God" / "The God´s Script" by Jorge Luis Borges
I have a strong -though subtle- connection with this story. Here is the last part translated by me.
"Little by little, a man comes to resemble the shape of his destiny; a man is, in the long run, his circumstances. More than a decoder or an avenger, more than a priest of the God, I was a prisoner. From the untiring maze of dreams I returned to my prison as if it was home. I blessed its dampness, I blessed its tiger, I blessed the hole of light, I blessed my old and painful body, I blessed the stones and the fog.
And then it happened what I can´t forget neither communicate. It happened the union with divinity, with the Universe (I don´t know if those words differ). Ecstasy does not repeat its symbols; there are some who have seen God in a splendor, there are those who have perceived it in a sword or in the circles of a rose. I saw a high Wheel, that was not in front of my eyes, neither behind, nor beside, but everywhere at one time. That Wheel was made of water, but of fire as well, and it was (even though its border was visible) infinite. Interwoven, it was formed by all the things that will be, are and have been, and I was one of the fibers of the total weft and Pedro de Alvarado -who caused me pain-, was another one. There they were the causes and the effects and I only had to look at that Wheel to understand it all, endlessly. Oh, the happiness of understanding, greater than the one from inventing or feeling! I saw the universe and I saw the intimate designs of the universe. I saw the origins that describe The Book of Council. I saw the mountains that emerged from the waters, I saw the first men of wood, I saw the earthen vats that betrayed men, I saw the dogs that destroyed their faces. I saw the faceless God that exists behind the gods. I saw infinite processes that formed only one happiness and, understanding it all, I could also understand the writing on the tiger.
It is a fourteen-casual-word formula (that seems to be casual) and only by saying it aloud I would be almighty. I only need to say it to abolish this prision of stone, to make the day turn into my night, to be young, to be inmortal, to make the tiger destroy Alvarado, to plunge the holy knife in Spanish chests, to rebuild the empire. Fourty syllables, fourteen words, and I, Tzinacan, would reign the land that had reigned Monteczuma. But I know that I will never say those words, because I´ve already forgotten about Tzinacan.
Let the mistery written in the tigers die with me. He who has half-seen the universe, who has half-seen the burnning commands of the universe, he can´t think about a man, about his trivial successes or failures, even when that man is himself. That man has been himself and now it doesn´t matter anymore. What matters to him the fate of that other? what matters to him the nation of that other? If he himself is now noboby. That is why I don´t pronounce the formula, that is why I let the days forget me, lying down in the darkness."
Jorge Luis Borges, El Maestro
"Little by little, a man comes to resemble the shape of his destiny; a man is, in the long run, his circumstances. More than a decoder or an avenger, more than a priest of the God, I was a prisoner. From the untiring maze of dreams I returned to my prison as if it was home. I blessed its dampness, I blessed its tiger, I blessed the hole of light, I blessed my old and painful body, I blessed the stones and the fog.
And then it happened what I can´t forget neither communicate. It happened the union with divinity, with the Universe (I don´t know if those words differ). Ecstasy does not repeat its symbols; there are some who have seen God in a splendor, there are those who have perceived it in a sword or in the circles of a rose. I saw a high Wheel, that was not in front of my eyes, neither behind, nor beside, but everywhere at one time. That Wheel was made of water, but of fire as well, and it was (even though its border was visible) infinite. Interwoven, it was formed by all the things that will be, are and have been, and I was one of the fibers of the total weft and Pedro de Alvarado -who caused me pain-, was another one. There they were the causes and the effects and I only had to look at that Wheel to understand it all, endlessly. Oh, the happiness of understanding, greater than the one from inventing or feeling! I saw the universe and I saw the intimate designs of the universe. I saw the origins that describe The Book of Council. I saw the mountains that emerged from the waters, I saw the first men of wood, I saw the earthen vats that betrayed men, I saw the dogs that destroyed their faces. I saw the faceless God that exists behind the gods. I saw infinite processes that formed only one happiness and, understanding it all, I could also understand the writing on the tiger.
It is a fourteen-casual-word formula (that seems to be casual) and only by saying it aloud I would be almighty. I only need to say it to abolish this prision of stone, to make the day turn into my night, to be young, to be inmortal, to make the tiger destroy Alvarado, to plunge the holy knife in Spanish chests, to rebuild the empire. Fourty syllables, fourteen words, and I, Tzinacan, would reign the land that had reigned Monteczuma. But I know that I will never say those words, because I´ve already forgotten about Tzinacan.
Let the mistery written in the tigers die with me. He who has half-seen the universe, who has half-seen the burnning commands of the universe, he can´t think about a man, about his trivial successes or failures, even when that man is himself. That man has been himself and now it doesn´t matter anymore. What matters to him the fate of that other? what matters to him the nation of that other? If he himself is now noboby. That is why I don´t pronounce the formula, that is why I let the days forget me, lying down in the darkness."
Jorge Luis Borges, El Maestro
Labels: "The god´s script", borges, el maestro, english, fiction, jorge luis borges, short story, spanish, translation
Comments:
Im not quite sure how I got here but this story gives me the same feeling I had when I ate psilocybin mushrooms. I went into the woods and felt what our ancestors must have felt when they were still more animal than human. I sat and watched a tree for several hours and it spoke to me inside of my head. I became enlightened from the words and began to feel smaller and smaller until finally I felt as if I was nothing in a void of infinity yet I was infinity at the same time. I closed my eyes and saw a 4th dimensional spherical image in my mind that contained the entire universe and all of the processes occuring in it were represented by the most intensely contrasting shades of color I have not seen in this reality. I felt as if I was adrift in an ocean that goes on forever in some alien world we cannot fathom. It was beautiful and I have never been the same since. This story brings back a trace of that same feeling.
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