“A labyrinth of symbols,” he corrected. “An invisible labyrinth of time. To me, a barbarous Englishman, has been entrusted the revelation of this diaphanous mystery. After more than a hundred years, the details are irretrievable; but it is not hard to conjecture what happened. Ts’ui Pe must have said once: I am withdrawing to write a book. And another time: I am withdrawing to construct a labyrinth. Every one imagined two works; to no one did it occur that the book and the maze were one and the same thing.
–Borges, Jorge Luis. “The Garden of Forking Paths.” Trans. Donald A. Yates. <http://courses.essex.ac.uk/lt/lt204/forking_paths.htm>
Last week, I provided a fairly straightforward reading of Neruda’s “Ode to Broken Things.” This week, I am torn among proliferating approaches to the question of “context” in relation to the poem. As readers do, I started first with a basic reading of the text (broken pots and clocks and things of that sort). From there, as readers do, I began to interpret, translate, and decode more aggressively. Next, I moved on to the human life process that is implied by the passage of time and the inevitable breaking of things. What began as a lucid description of physical processes became quickly a meditation on physics. And, always anthropocentric, I shifted my reading from physics to metaphysics, once again looking for the human story that the poem is telling. From one text, I managed to generate anywhere from two to four different ideas about the realm in which it operates (objects in the concrete, humans in the concrete, objects in the abstract, humans in the abstract). And, each of these approaches, I suspect is immediately prone to retranslating and further forking.
Continue reading Week 2: Breaking down contexts