29 pages • 58 minutes read
Jorge Luis BorgesA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
“The universe (which others call the Library) is composed of an indefinite, perhaps infinite number of hexagonal galleries. In the center of each gallery is a ventilation shaft, bounded by a low railing. From any hexagon one can see the floors above and below—one after another, endlessly.”
The story’s opening introduces the central theme of infinity as embodied in the vast, all-encompassing galleries of the Library. The narrator describes feeling overwhelmed and disoriented when looking up and down at the multiple layers of floors filled with ever more galleries.
“Idealists argue that the hexagonal rooms are the necessary shape of absolute space, or at least of our perception of space. They argue that a triangular or pentagonal chamber is inconceivable. (Mystics claim that their ecstasies reveal to them a circular chamber containing an enormous circular book with a continuous spine that goes completely around the walls. But their testimony is suspect, their words obscure. That cyclical book is God.) Let it suffice for the moment that I repeat the classic dictum: The Library is a sphere whose exact center is any hexagon and whose circumference is unattainable.”
The librarian explores the differing perspectives on the Library’s architecture. The idealists argue that hexagonal rooms are necessary for understanding space, reflecting a rational and ordered view of knowledge. On the other hand, the mystics offer a more magical and enigmatic interpretation, suggesting a circular chamber with a cyclical book as a symbol of divinity. The idea of an unattainable circumference emphasizes the infinite and incomprehensible nature of the Library, which is a central theme in the story.
“Each wall of each hexagon is furnished with five bookshelves; each bookshelf holds thirty-two books identical in format; each book contains four hundred ten pages; each page, forty lines; each line, approximately eighty black letters. There are also letters on the front cover of each book; those letters neither indicate nor prefigure what the pages inside will say.”
The librarian describes the structure of the books within the Library, emphasizing their uniformity and vast quantity. This detailed description underscores the overwhelming and monotonous nature of the Library’s contents, where each book seems identical in format but holds infinite variations of text.
“The Library has existed ab aeternitate. That truth, whose immediate corollary is the future eternity of the world, no rational mind can doubt. Man, the imperfect librarian, may be the work of chance or of malevolent demiurges; the universe, with its elegant appointments—its bookshelves, its enigmatic books, its indefatigable staircases for the traveler, and its water closets for the seated librarian—can only be the handiwork of a god.”
The librarian explores the concept of the Library’s eternal existence and its cosmic significance. The Library’s timelessness is contrasted with the imperfection of human mortality. The idea that the universe itself is a creation of a god reflects themes of divinity and cosmic mystery prevalent in Jorge Luis Borges’s work.
“This much is known: For every rational line or forthright statement there are leagues of senseless cacophony, verbal nonsense, and incoherency. (I know of one semi barbarous zone whose librarians repudiate the ‘vain and superstitious habit’ of trying to find sense in books, equating such a quest with attempting to find meaning in dreams or in the chaotic lines of the palm of one’s hand….They will acknowledge that the inventors of writing imitated the twenty-five natural symbols, but contend that that adoption was fortuitous, coincidental, and that books in themselves have no meaning. That argument, as we shall see, is not entirely fallacious.)”
Borges highlights the overwhelming presence of nonsensical and chaotic texts within the Library’s vast collection. He presents the viewpoint of librarians who reject the pursuit of meaning in books, equating it with futile endeavors, like finding meaning in dreams or palmistry. This viewpoint contrasts with that of the librarian, who insists that there is an underlying meaning and order behind all apparent randomness.
“This philosopher observed that all books, however different from one another they might be, consist of identical elements: the space, the period, the comma, and the twenty-two letters of the alphabet. He also posited a fact which all travelers have since confirmed: In all the Library, there are no two identical books.”
The philosopher’s assertion that no two identical books exist within the entire Library underscores each text’s staggering complexity and uniqueness, despite the limited components they share. This idea serves as a metaphor for the vast diversity and infinite possibilities contained within the Library.
“From those incontrovertible premises, the librarian deduced that the Library is “total”—perfect, complete, and whole—and that its bookshelves contain all possible combinations of the twenty-two orthographic symbols (a number which, though unimaginably vast, is not infinite)—that is, all that is able to be expressed, in every language.”
These lines illustrate the librarian’s belief in the Library as a flawless and all-encompassing system housing every imaginable arrangement of the 22 orthographic symbols, implying its capacity to encompass all possible expressions in various languages.
“All—the detailed history of the future, the autobiographies of the archangels, the faithful catalog of the Library, thousands and thousands of false catalogs, the proof of the falsity of those false catalogs, a proof of the falsity of the true catalog, the gnostic gospel of Basilides, the commentary upon that gospel, the commentary on the commentary on that gospel, the true story of your death, the translation of every book into every language, the interpolations of every book into all books, the treatise Bede could have written (but did not) on the mythology of the Saxon people, the lost books of Tacitus.”
This quote portrays the Library as a ceaseless architectural expanse that stretches not only across space but also through time itself. The librarian emphasizes elsewhere that the Library is “total,” and this totality is both a tantalizing promise and a source of endless frustration.
“At that period there was much talk of The Vindications—books of apologiae and prophecies that would vindicate for all time the actions of every person in the universe and that held wondrous arcana for men’s futures.”
This quote highlights the excitement and anticipation within the Library surrounding the concept of “Vindications,” which are books offering detailed accounts of individuals’ life actions while also revealing glimpses into their future fates. The excitement that greets the purely conjectural existence of the Vindications suggests one impediment to collective efforts at making sense of the Library: Many librarians are more invested in their individual egos.
“One blasphemous sect proposed that the searches be discontinued and that all men shuffle letters and symbols until those canonical books, through some improbable stroke of chance, had been constructed.”
The quote implies the emergence of a sect that, instead of persisting in their search for meaning within the existing Library’s books, opts to disassemble and reshuffle them in the hope of landing on meaning by chance. The irony here is that this is precisely the principle on which the Library itself already operates. This is just one of many “blasphemous” attempts to access the Library’s inaccessible knowledge.
“Despite general opinion, I daresay that the consequences of the depredations committed by the Purifiers have been exaggerated by the horror those same fanatics inspired. They were spurred on by the holy zeal to reach—someday, through unrelenting effort—the books of the Crimson Hexagon—books smaller than natural books, books omnipotent, illustrated, and magical.”
The narrator questions the efficacy of the Purifiers’ actions, proposing that the Library’s devastation at their hands might have been exaggerated due to the fear they instilled. These fanatics were motivated by intense religious zeal, seeking to unlock the enigmatic books of the Crimson Hexagon, imagined to be magical because they are physically different from all the other books in the Library. This quote emphasizes the recurring theme of fanaticism and the quest for obscure knowledge within the Library, often culminating in tragic outcomes marked by violence and death.
“We also have knowledge of another superstition from that period: belief in what was termed the Book-Man. On some shelf in some hexagon, it was argued, there must exist a book that is the cipher and perfect compendium of all other books, and some librarian must have examined that book; this librarian is analogous to a god. In the language of this zone there are still vestiges of the sect that worshiped that distant librarian. Many have gone in search of Him. For a hundred years, men beat every possible path and every path in vain. How was one to locate the idolized secret hexagon that sheltered Him?”
This quote highlights the rise of a superstitious belief within the Library focusing on a figure referred to as the “Book-Man.” It portrays the idealistic notion that a singular volume might exist amid the Library’s vast and seemingly chaotic texts, encompassing complete knowledge about the Library’s structure. Owning such a volume would bestow God-like status upon the possessor due to its all-encompassing wisdom.
“Infidels claim that the rule in the Library is not “sense,” but “non-sense,” and that “rationality” (even humble, pure coherence) is an almost miraculous exception.”
This quote asserts that the quest for rationality and coherence within the boundless Library is misguided, given its fundamentally nonsensical structure. It indicates that among the infidels, a belief exists in embracing the Library’s inherent randomness, where its texts hold no concealed truths or meanings, and instances of rationality are rare exceptions.
“I am perhaps misled by old age and fear, but I suspect that the human species—the only species—teeters at the verge of extinction, yet that the Library enlightened, solitary, infinite, perfectly unmoving, armed with precious volumes, pointless, incorruptible, and secret—will endure.”
In this quote, the narrator contemplates humanity’s fragile existence, teetering on the edge of extinction as it relentlessly seeks knowledge within the boundless Library. Meanwhile, the Library stands as a timeless and infinite entity, its vast possibilities and wisdom paradoxically contrasting and highlighting the transience of human life.
“I will be bold enough to suggest this solution to the ancient problem: The Library is unlimited but periodic. If an eternal traveler should journey in any direction, he would find after untold centuries that the same volumes are repeated in the same disorder—which, repeated, becomes order: the Order. My solitude is cheered by that elegant hope.”
This quote grapples with the central paradox of the Library’s infinity, proposing that it isn’t truly boundless but instead characterized by endless repetition and cyclical patterns. It underscores that prolonged exploration within the Library would inevitably lead to the rediscovery of books, eventually forming a coherent order within the apparent chaos. The narrator derives solace from this revelation, finding a comforting sense of structure amid the Library’s bewildering randomness.
By Jorge Luis Borges