Reading Journal: Jorge Luis Borges's “The Circular Ruins”

Borges writing makes me feel as if he wrote the story for specifically me, as if he knew where I was at in life, my thoughts, my memories, etc. Like a portrait of a person that seems to be looking at you no matter where you stand, Borges' characters always seem to be a manifestation of our deepest thoughts, no matter where our minds are at. Perhaps it's his minimalist setting and description, which requires readers to fill in the details with our own imagination. Or maybe it's the magical properties of Borges' worlds that defy worldly description. Either way, "The Circular Ruins" remains one of my favorite stories by one of my favorite writers. 

This, my second reading of "The Circular Ruins," was remarkable. I recall reading it a year or so prior, and the title stuck with me. It inspired the name of this very site. Admittedly, I didn't remember much about the story other than it was about a man who sought to dream up another person. Having read it again, with the attention I usually reserve for scholarly works, I was reminded why I find Borges' writing so enchanting.

The main character in the story, the "silent man," comes from the villages of the south, "where the Zend tongue is not contaminated by Greek" (1). to sleep in the ruins of a circular temple. He resolves to sleep within the walls of the dilapidated temple, but not because he is tired. He's on a mission to dream. Specifically, to dream of a person and make him real. He tries first to dream of a class of students and narrow them down to one individual, a protege to receive the man's lifetime of wisdom, but this attempt fails.

The silent man then, exhausted by sleeping (paradoxically), wanders the jungle awake for many days. Once he's sufficiently tired again, he prays to "planetary" gods, for assistance and falls asleep again. This time, the unnamed man is more successful. He dreams a new person, a son, from the inside out, beginning with his beating heart. It takes years of sleep, but eventually a skeleton, organs, and skin are created, and a new person is born (or manifested). 

The Piedra de Tizoc, a 15th century Aztec sculpture.

Fearing that his newly created son would be hurt if he knew that he was something created by a dream, rather than born into life, the unnamed man doesn't tell the boy how he came into being. He decides, rather, to send him on his own journey north believing that he is as real as any other human. 

I won’t spoil the ending of this tale entirely, but I will hint at it. The unnamed man experiences a not-so-surprising revelation about his own origins, and how he himself came into being. In this revelation, Borges leaves readers with his signature twist. But unlike the shock ending of an M. Night Shyamalan film, the story eases into it, letting readers gradually come to know the truth, the way the silent man in the story does. 

I'd encourage anyone interested in postmodern philosophy, Magical Realism or short fiction to give any of Borges' short stories a try. His work may be particularly interesting to contemporary sci-fi fans, especially those of you keen on world building. While Borges' fiction is not science fiction per se, it does invoke many of the deep philosophical questions about existence, consciousness and virtual realities often present in the best sci-fi writing, television and film.  

"The Circular Ruins" appears in Labyrinths New Directions Paperback (2007), edited by Donald A. Yates and James E. Irby with additional contribution by William Gibson and Andre Maurios.