
Jorge Luis Borges had a way with mirrors. Not the reflective kind you stare into when checking if your hair’s falling apart (though, maybe you should).
Borges used mirrors to shatter minds. His stories aren’t the ones you read with a cup of tea by your side—they’ll make you feel like you’ve taken a blow to the stomach, questioning what’s real and what’s some made-up hellhole.
Ficciones isn’t just a book—it’s a maze, a psychological trap. Borges was the spider in the center, dangling the web of paradoxes, infinite realities, and tangled reflections.
We’ll take a journey through the six moments in Ficciones where mirrors aren’t just shiny surfaces—they’re tools that play mind games on your very soul. Get ready for a wild ride, friend.
Borges: The Man, The Myth, The Mirror Master
Jorge Luis Borges was born in 1899 in Buenos Aires, Argentina, into a family of intellectuals, a fact that might explain why his writing sounds like it came from a man who spent his life swimming in a sea of books.
He dabbled in everything—literature, philosophy, even a bit of mysticism. But he was a master of the weird, the surreal, and the metaphysical.
His world is one where nothing is what it seems, and mirrors? They’re his ultimate weapon to turn reality into a funhouse.
Ficciones, published in 1944, is Borges’ work of art that continues to mess with minds. It’s a collection of short stories about mirrors, labyrinths, infinite books, and reflections of human consciousness.
Borges had a knack for making you question the difference between what you know and what you think you know.
1. “The Mirror and the Mask” – A Drowning in Paradox
In this story, Borges shows us a man staring at a mirror. Sounds normal, right?
But, wait, the guy isn’t just checking his reflection—he’s grappling with an identity crisis, one that’s inescapable.
This isn’t your typical “What’s my purpose?” moment. This is about a man whose image in the mirror doesn’t line up with who he really is.
And what’s worse, he’s caught in an endless loop where the mask is his real self, and the real self is the mask.
This messes with your brain like a bad acid trip. You think you’re looking at one thing, but the mirror reflects an entirely different universe, and you can never quite reach the truth.
2. “The Library of Babel” – Mirrors of Knowledge (or the Lack Thereof)
Imagine a universe made entirely of books. A hellhole of pages and ink, where every turn of the page feels like another cut to your brain, another promise of truth that never comes.
You think you’re diving into a paradise, but it’s more like a graveyard where the books are the dead, and you’re the fool who keeps digging them up hoping to find something that’ll make sense.
The Library is a maze, a labyrinth of mirrors that spit you out into more mirrors, and soon you can’t tell where the hell you’re standing.
Each passage twists back into itself like some sick joke, making you feel like you’re losing your mind. You’re trapped in a hall of glass reflections, your own face staring back at you, only it’s distorted, cracked, like you’ve been hit by a thousand punches, but you can’t remember when the first one landed.
In Borges’ Library, there’s no exit. No fresh air. No light. It’s just books. And not just any books—these are books that contain every possible combination of words, but nothing that matters.
You pick one up, dust it off, and read it, only to find it’s full of gibberish. Then you grab another, and it’s just more of the same: a stew of meaningless noise.
You think you’re going somewhere, but each turn you take is just another slap in the face, telling you that the deeper you dig into this mess, the further you get from anything that resembles understanding.
Mirrors here reflect the futility of knowledge. You’re trapped in an endless loop, thinking that if you just find the right book, the right combination of words, you’ll have the answers you’ve been seeking.
But it’s all just smoke, a reflection of something you’ll never touch. You read one book and think, Ah, I’ve found it, only to see that it’s a mirror to your own confusion, staring back at you like a hungry animal.
Then you grab another one, desperate, thinking that this time, it will make sense. But it doesn’t. It just mocks you with more questions, more mirrors, and no answers.
And the worst part? You can’t stop.
You can’t look away from these endless shelves, because somewhere deep down you still believe that just one more book, just one more line, will finally let you escape.
But you’re locked in a cage of your own making.
Borges doesn’t care if you find your way out—he’s content to watch you drown in your own desperation.
That’s what mirrors do. They show you your face, but they don’t show you the whole picture.
They don’t show you the scars, the bruises, the dirt.
They don’t show you how empty you are inside. They just reflect what you want to see.
And in the Library, all you’ll ever see is your own desperate face, groping for meaning in a sea of meaningless words.
3. “The Circular Ruins” – A Dream within a Dream
Mirrors here reflect an idea that’s as old as time itself: dreams.
In The Circular Ruins, a man creates a dream world, but the twist is that he doesn’t realize he’s just a dream within someone else’s dream.
It’s a layered, recursive hell where every reflection is a step deeper into insanity.
A man creates his own reality, only to discover he’s just a reflection in someone else’s mind.
He’s both creator and creation, and the mirror here reflects the suffocating paradox of existence.
You’re not the dreamer—you’re the dream, and that thought will haunt you.
4. “Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius” – The Mirror that Creates Worlds
What happens when mirrors stop reflecting what’s in front of them and start creating their own reflections?
In this story, Borges introduces the idea of a fictional world—Tlön—that begins to invade reality.
The people of Tlön see the world through their own twisted reflections, and soon, the line between real and imagined blurs.
Borges flips the mirror on its side and says, “This is not your reflection—it’s the reflection of a universe in your mind.”
The reflection becomes a world of its own, a creation that eats reality, forcing the reader to question whether they are the ones in the mirror, or if the mirror is showing them a version of reality they can no longer escape.
5. “The Secret Miracle” – A Moment of Time Frozen in a Glass
This story isn’t just about mirrors; it’s about freezing time itself. The protagonist, a writer facing execution, is granted one year to finish his novel.
In the moment of his execution, time stops—he’s trapped in the reflection of a frozen moment, a mirror of his last thoughts.
Here, the mirror doesn’t show you your face; it shows you your ultimate fear: the end of time.
A brutal metaphor for how you’re always looking for something in the reflection—peace, satisfaction, fulfillment—but sometimes all you’ll see is an empty room staring back.
6. “The Aleph” – A Mirror to the Universe
The Aleph is a point in space that contains the entire universe.
The ultimate mirror, it reflects everything, from the mundane to the divine.
The protagonist gazes into it, and for a brief moment, he sees every single thing that ever existed or will exist.
It’s a mirror that reflects infinity—nothingness and everythingness all at once.
Borges uses this mirror to demonstrate how we search for meaning in the chaos, but in the end, we’re just staring at the reflection of our own inability to comprehend it all.
The mirror becomes a symbol of human despair—a futile attempt to grasp the infinite.
Story | Mirror Metaphor |
---|---|
The Library of Babel | Mirrors reflect endless confusion |
The Circular Ruins | Mirrors reflect the paradox of creation |
Tlön, Uqbar | Mirrors create worlds, blurring reality |
The Secret Miracle | Mirrors freeze time, trapping the soul |
The Aleph | Mirrors show the infinite, leaving you empty |
Conclusion – The Mirror Shatters, But Does It Ever Matter?
In the end, maybe there’s no true reflection. Maybe the mirror only shows the lies we’ve been fed.
Borges doesn’t tell you what’s real. He doesn’t offer you solace.
The truth, if it exists, is hidden behind a thousand layers of glass—and when you look into it, you’re not sure if you’re seeing yourself, or if you’re seeing the reflection of someone you used to know.
And here’s the cruel part—Borges doesn’t care if you figure it out.
He leaves you trapped in your own labyrinth, staring at the mirror, unsure if you’re even real.
You thought you understood? Good. But now you’re just as lost as everyone else.
So look into that mirror.
Tell me what you see.
And then remember—there’s no escape.
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.