Jacques Derrida and Jorge Luis Borges

5 thoughts on “Jacques Derrida and Jorge Luis Borges”

  1. I have been seeking myself in a sentence, yes, I, and since a circumbygone period at the end of which I would say I and which would, finally, have the form, my language, another, of what I have turned around, from one periphrasis to the next, knowing that it took place but never, according to the strange turn of the event of nothing, what can be got around or not which comes back to me without ever having taken place, I call it circumcision, see the blood but also what comes, cauterization, coagulation or not, strictly contain the outpouring of circumcision, one circumcision, mine, the only one, rather than circumnavigation or circumference, although the unforgettable circumcision has carried me to the place I had to go to, and circumfession if I want to say and so something of an avowal without truth turning around itself, an avowal without “hymn” (hymnology) and without “virtue” (aretalogy), without managing to close itself on its possibility, unsealing abandoning the circle open, wandering on the periphery, taking the pulse of an encircling phrase, the pulsion of the paragraph which never circumpletes itself, as long as the blood, what I call thus and thus call, continues its venue in its vein.

    — Derrida

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  2. “What would be my spontaneous attitude to Borges? It’s a pensive one. I am reminded of an interview with Borges, during a visit to Harvard in 1968. His father had a theory of forgetting that lingered with him. “I think if I recall something,” his father said, “for example, if today I look back on this morning, then I get an image of what I saw this morning. But if tonight, I’m thinking back on this morning, then what I’m really recalling is not the first image, but the first image in memory. So that every time I recall something, I’m not recalling it really, I’m recalling the last time I recalled it, I’m recalling my last memory of it. So that really, I have no memories whatever, I have no images whatever, about my childhood, my youth.” My relationship with Borges works precisely in this fashion; I have no relationship with him whatever. The only relationship I have with him, his writings, is his ghost – the traces of Borges.” — Derrida

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  3. “What would be my spontaneous attitude to Borges? It’s a pensive one. I am reminded of an interview with Borges, during a visit to Harvard in 1968. His father had a theory of forgetting that lingered with him. “I think if I recall something,” his father said, “for example, if today I look back on this morning, then I get an image of what I saw this morning. But if tonight, I’m thinking back on this morning, then what I’m really recalling is not the first image, but the first image in memory. So that every time I recall something, I’m not recalling it really, I’m recalling the last time I recalled it, I’m recalling my last memory of it. So that really, I have no memories whatever, I have no images whatever, about my childhood, my youth.” My relationship with Borges works precisely in this fashion; I have no relationship with him whatever. The only relationship I have with him, his writings, is his ghost – the traces of Borges.”

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  4. “A ghost is merely the “trace of the other”; for instance, the other who has died and that remains “other,” is at once inside and outside of us. The trace, or the ghost, is synonymous with the gap (even with respect to memory); gaps of others, the gap, the trace of the other who has died. At the same time, there are so few gaps in the afterlife. The gap of death, of memory, of separation, can always be crossed.”

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