Rating: 
Summary: A glass bead game
Review: Let us drink to another world!Borges is often considered to be merely a writer. He is a writer, of course, but... he is at least as much of a philosopher - he plays with abstract ideas and concepts, creates possible, if not probable alternative realities and uses two unrelated ideas to create a third. And that is where he comes in as a writer - he doesn't leave the ideas to exist as abstract concepts, he brings them to reality (or, more accurately, he brings reality to them). Borges creates surreal worlds we cannot avoid living in; he breaks down all the barriers between the real and the unreal. Being a postmodernist, he widely uses allusions, but mostly twists or turns around the original idea. His truly brilliant mysticism can be explained by his outstanding knowledge of religious and historical texts (many of which he has made up himself, of course; but does that make them less legitimate, really?). If one were to try to write a complete analysis of a story of his (which is, naturally, impossible; who would dare try to rewrite the history of Man?), it would mean going back to symbols and allegories Borges himself didn't know he was writing about, because an infinite amount of interpretations exist, and archetypes cannot be analysed at all... Borges invented his own glass bead game, one that has no rules except to try and merge every kind of consciousness and subconsciousness one has - or more. If possible.
Rating: 
Summary: Borges crafts magnificent, magical worlds
Review: If you're interested in Borges' stories, this is a great book to get since it gathers all (or almost all) of them in a single binding at a great price. Borges' imagination is dazzling, and he delights in lulling readers with droll academic details before springing an unexpected surprise on us. On the down side, once you become accustomed to his style, you may grow impatient with it. Some of the stories may feel formulaic, but it's hard to fault these weaknesses when you consider that this book contains nearly his entire life's work of short stories. Some are bound to be better, and you should buy this book and read it for them.
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Summary: you are dumb
Review: And Borges is not. Get used to it. I don't care if you went to Harvard. Big deal, ivy pants. Maybe you should read Plato again if you think you are so smart. Borges read Plato. He read a lot; philosophy, literature, history, fiction, comic books. Comic books? Did they have those in Argentina in the '40s and '50s? Not that I'm aware of, but Borges could read the future, too. He was good. Borges took "subliterary" genres and applied his razor-sharp wit and keen insight to them, producing a body of literature that rivals and, in my opinion, surpasses that of nearly every other 20th century author. His fiction is fantastic, romantic, historical, magical, and unlike anything you'll ever read. It's amazing. I can't believe this man didn't win a Nobel prize. I'll bet your college professors told you science fiction was for tasteless geeks, too. This book combines all of Borges' published fiction into one volume, which is amazingly convenient. Though some other reviewers have remarked on the quality of the translation, I have no problem with it. It is not quite as poetic as some translations I have seen, but I still think it is very good. Perhaps it is closer to the Spanish; I cannot say. If I could read Spanish, I would not have purchased this book. Stop reading this review. If you like Borges, or are merely curious about him, buy this book and read it instead. You won't be disappointed. If you are disappointed, what are you doing trying to read literary authors, anyway? Open your mind; it needs to be quite open, indeed, for Borges' intellectual firestorm to get in.
Rating:
Summary: THERE IS A MISTAKE
Review: It was not Borges, but his father, who paid for the edition of Borges' first book.
Rating:
Summary: One of the Greats
Review: Hilarious, isn't it, when terrible writers compose long winded reviews trashing a literary genius such as Borges. It's absolutely criminal. Hey Ralph Esconscer, or whatever your mutt name is, I'm talking to you mate!
Rating:
Summary: enno littmann redivivus
Review: While the strengths of this volume are numerous, I will single out one: the dazzling, praeternatural translations. They somehow succeed in replicating those ethereal echos we hear in Borges' Spanish: Kafka's German, Wilkins' English, Matthew's Greek. Extraordinary.
Rating:
Summary: A wealth of literary labyrinths
Review: What a treasure this book is! The Argentinian Jorge Luis Borges's fictional works are the ultimate celebration of the power of the imagination, each story a unique, glittering gem worthy of careful and repeated inspection. Combining abstract concepts with familiar elements of the real world, Borges works in a genre that could be called philosophical fantasy -- an exploration of the myriad ways of interpreting and portraying reality and unreality. I have encountered no writer more eclectic than Borges; there is no place on earth and no time in history in which he is uninterested or unwilling to take inspiration. He writes about sorcerors, pirates, impostors, hoodlums, samurai, detectives, troglodytes, gauchos, kings, primitive tribes, artifacts, fantastic libraries, imaginary worlds, imaginary books, lost civilizations, and alternate realities with astonishingly equal aplomb. Much of the writing is immersed in cultural mysticism (the Kabbalah), traditional religions (the Koran, the Talmud, the Bible), mythology (Greek, Arabian, Oriental), philosophy (particularly Schopenhauer), world history, and lore of Borges's own invention. Motifs of knives, mirrors, and especially labyrinths -- both physical and metaphysical -- recur throughout many of the stories. The titles alone invoke immediate intrigue: "The Garden of Forking Paths," "The Library of Babel," "The Cult of the Phoenix," "The Immortal," "The Sect of the Thirty," "The Mirror and the Mask," "Toenails," et cetera. Borges takes the typical detective story and elevates it to lofty levels of erudition -- one can see how he influenced Umberto Eco. "Death and the Compass" is a mystery with a geometrical solution, "Ibn-Hakam al-Bokhari, Murdered in His Labyrinth" embellishes its clever plot by merging two disparate cultures, while the eerie "There Are More Things" takes its inspiration from H.P. Lovecraft. Some stories, like "The House of Asterion" and "Everything and Nothing," are like riddles, while others are rich romantic tales of the tough barrios of Buenos Aires. This collection is a marvel -- perfect for engaging your intellect and purging yourself of the mundane.
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Summary: Of mirrors, religion, and other labyrinths
Review: I was grateful when a friend gave me this book, which contains the collected short stories of Borges. No longer did I have to sort through my various paperbacks to find a story I wished to reread. The convenience of having this material in one volume is a compelling reason to own this text. Borges familiar themes of life, death, labyrinths, religion and mythology, mirrors, knife fights, South American revolutionary events and characters, libraries and art, epiphanies versus ignorance wind their way throughout these stories. Often you will begin in media res, which is well enough, but Borges will just as often end a story without resolving matters. His tribute to H.P. Lovecraft, "There Are Many Things," leaves you wondering, for example. Borges uses detail precisely, not excessively, and if, to borrow from Ezra Pound's comment on what makes for good poetry, the pace of these works is sometimes slow their density is undisputed. (If you want details, lots of details, then try Cormac McCarthy's novels. At times, they are exhausting to read-like running through knee-deep water.)
I find that reading two or three stories at a time (excepting, of course, the extremely brief sketches) suffices, for you need time to linger, to ponder, and, if time allows, to reread passages, if not entire stories. The excellent footnotes Andrew Hurley provides are, to me, another reason to own this work. This body of contextual, historical, and biographical information was elucidating, even fun, to read. (I used two bookmarks, one for the stories, one for the footnotes.) Many reviewers quibble with the translation, and I leave that debate to those with much more knowledge about the merits of original Spanish version of these stories than I possess. I do, however, still wonder how the Nobel committees that snubbed Borges were able to rationalize their oversight.
Rating:
Summary: Borges in wonderland
Review: ÒEvery author creates his own pedigreeÓ says Borges, and it would not be entirely unfair to say that Borges had spent the better part of his life in establishing this pedigree. I think, I have read every single line Borges ever had put to print. Some time in my mid-twenties I got hooked when I read for the first time a tale entitled ÒThe ZahirÓ and I didnÕt let go ever after. To my mind especially this story gives the whole Borges in a nutshell. It defies a straightforward explanation and suggests a facetted reflection of different perspectives, but packaged in a deceptively lucid and straightforward narrative. What are those objects which dispense such mysterious power to possess our imagination from the moment we catch sight of them? IsnÕt it actually just one object that reincarnates through the centuries in all kinds of shapes? Or could it be just a figment of paranoia in a mentally troubled mind with no actual referent in the real world? Nabokov in one of his (ma!ny) grumpier moments complained about Borges art as being Òall porch and no house behind.Ó Nabokov has a point. But letÕs be honest. Instead of churning out a so-so novel and make the reader waste days and weeks over it, it is so much snappier and more interesting to write a mouth-watering review on ÒThe Approach to Al-MuÕtasim.Ó Yes, I confess. I fell for it, and searched the central catalogue of the British Library for this book, and of course I didnÕt find it. BorgesÕs fictional review was a hoax, but it spurned a new direction in his own production. In a sense all of Borges short stories are sketches for much larger novels, and yet manage to say it all in fewer words. The trick is to leave a characterÕs psychology utterly to the readerÕs intuition and be strictly matter of fact and without frills. Only recently, when I looked into the old Icelandic sagas it occurred to me how much BorgesÕ craft actually owes to the Norse storytellers, a fact Borges himself had never hidden!, but one has to see it with oneÕs own eyes to appreciate the similarities. The Norse sagas appear to be all surface. As an advance on his inheritance, a son steals a few implements from his fatherÕs cottage, moves away and starts an enterprise of his own, he succeeds beyond expectation, branches out, takes in an apprentice, promotes him as his steward, but disappoints the fellow, because he doesnÕt offer him a full partnership. Tension develops, the steward decides ... we get the picture. Borges initially looked to Kafka as his most important influence, but then he discovered for himself the potential of the saga style and found ways to load the text with a world of allusions and suggestions underneath of a deceptively straightforward surface. I guess Borges is the opposite extreme to Marcel Proust, and the difference between the two represents a fundamental polarity in the narrative universe. A polarity which had always been there, we can follow it back to the Norse sagas !and their Japanese counterpart, MurasakiÕs ÒPrince Genji,Ó or to ApuleiusÕ ribald tale and the sometimes tantalizing glimpses on the rich and minute structure of omniscient realism suggested by the extant fragments of PetronÕs ÒSatyricon.Ó It is not so much a difference in subtlety, but more of the narratorÕs temperament. You either seek completeness and offer life to be swallowed whole, or you prefer to be selective with your effects and to create a mirror cabinet of perspectives as the actual object of your narrative. Both is a legitimate way of storytelling, the difference lays in the narratorÕs concept of truth, whether the accent is put on omniscient totality, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, and to the full extent of the artistÕs capacity to cope and let things permeate his temperament, or whether a more opaque, a more sceptical mentality is making choices and opens room to consider plausible alternatives and surprising spectres in a slimmer but more suggesti!ve texture. The former appeals more to the readers whole spectrum of sensuality, the latter highlights sensual events for the intellect. It is a bit like lovemaking - some people are quite happy just to rub the partnerÕs skin and take it all in, hair smell and smile; others need to get their fantasy going, for them, sex is primarily an event in their imagination, even during the act. In this sense, James Joyce could never make up his mind which way he wanted to go, but apparently you canÕt have it both ways. And since it affects the artistÕs entire personality this is more than a matter of capriciously deciding how to tell my next tale. It is one of the crossroads in life one has to take, and no possibility to retract your steps. Borges of course had not much of a choice. No matter how much talent one has, impaired eyesight and eventual blindness dictate the direction. Degas in his old age turned to sculpture - what else could he do? In Borges case, the handicap has as much !to do with his artistic choices, as has his private discovery of the Icelandic Sagas. Every sensual moment becomes precious and treasured in ways that could never occur to a Tolstoy or Proust. As a reader I am not sure whether I want to choose between these people. I like them all. At least thatÕs what I tell myself. But my clock knows better. I simply spend more time with the likes of Borges, who demand so little of my time, than the much more expansive ladies and gentlemen with their 3 decker tomes. Tolstoy feeds to my appetites but over Borges I can dream.
Rating:
Summary: Just Read It
Review: There's nothing better in contemporary literature by anyone, in any language. Borges saves us from ourselves. Weinberger's translation is spectacular.
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