Jorge Luis Borgers
Jorge Francisco Isidoro Luis Borges Acevedo, usually referred to as Jorge Luis Borges (Spanish pronunciation: [xoɾxe lwis boɾxes]), was an Argentine writer and poet born in Buenos Aires. In 1914, his family moved to Switzerland where he attended school and traveled to Spain. On his return to Argentina in 1921, Borges began publishing his poems and essays in Surrealist literary journals. He also worked as a librarian and public lecturer. Borges was fluent in several languages. He was a target of political persecution during the Peron regime, and supported the military juntas that overthrew it.
Due to a hereditary condition, Borges became blind in his late fifties. In 1955, he was appointed director of the National Public Library (Biblioteca Nacional) and professor of Literature at the University of Buenos Aires. In 1961, he came to international attention when he received the first International Publishers' Prize Prix Formentor. His work was translated and published widely in the United States and in Europe. He died in Geneva, Switzerland, in 1986.
J. M. Coetzee said of Borges: "He, more than anyone, renovated the language of fiction and thus opened the way to a remarkable generation of Spanish American novelists."
“Algún recuerdo limitado y menguante de Herbert Ashe, ingeniero de los ferrocarriles del Sur, persiste en el hotel de Adrogué, entre las efusivas madreselvas y en el fondo ilusorio de los espejos. En vida padeció de irrealidad, como tantos ingleses; muerto, no es siquiera el fantasma que ya era entonces. Era alto y desganado y su cansada barba rectangular había sido roja. Entiendo que era viudo, sin hijos. Cada tantos años iba a Inglaterra: a visitar (juzgo por unas fotografías que nos mostró) un reloj de sol y unos robles. Mi padre había estrechado con él (el verbo es excesivo) una de esas amistades inglesas que empiezan por excluir la confidencia y que muy pronto omiten el diálogo. Solían ejercer un intercambio de libros y de periódicos; solían batirse al ajedrez, taciturnamente... Lo recuerdo en el corredor del hotel, con un libro de matemáticas en la mano, mirando a veces los colores irrecuperables del cielo.”