La prima edizione di Elogio de la
sombra del 1969 pubblicata da
Emecé a Buenos Aires, conteneva
illustrazioni del pittore Héctor
Basuldúa. A fianco la copertina
dell'edizione Adelphi / Published by
Emecé in Buenos Aires in 1969, the
first edition of Elogio de la sombra
contained illustrations by the painter
Héctor Basuldúa. Beside, the cover
of the Adelphi edition
13 – To be continued. For
“Epiphanies of light”, to date, the
following short stories by Empio
Malara have been published in
LUCE: “Alessandro Manzoni, a
creator of light” (n.317,
September 2016); “Herman
Melville. Light that invites us on a
journey” (n.321, September 2017);
“Light and dark in the portrait of
James Joyce as a young man”
(n.322, December 2017); “Flashes
and lights in Hemingway’s A
Farewell to Arms” (n.323, March
2018); “The artificial sun in the
novel The magic mountain by
Thomas Mann” (n.324, June
2018); “The irreverent and
irrational light in some texts by
Carlo Emilio Gadda” (n.325,
September 2018). “Philip Roth’s
revealing lights in American
Pastoral” (n.326, December
2018); “Marcel Proust’s lighted
windows in the novel Swann’s
Way” (n.327, March 2019);
"In the Light of Leonardo
da Vinci" (n.328, June 2019);
"Fyodor Dostoevsky's dar
undergrouns as illuminated by
Alberto Moravia" (n.329,
September 2019) ; "Natalia
Ginzburg's Voices – and lights
– in the Evening" (n.330,
December 2019) ; "The
wilderness of light in Emily
Dickinson" (n.331, March 2020)
The last shadow
by Jorge Luis Borges
In Praise of Darkness (Elogio de la sombra) is
the title of the collection of poems and texts
by Jorge Luis Borges (1899-1986), first
published on August 24th, 1969, the day of the
author’s 70th birthday, celebrated without
him, by then blind, being able to see it, in the
“growing maze of lights” (el creciente laberinto
de luces) of Buenos Aires.
For Borges, Buenos Aires is a “whistled milonga
that we cannot place and that moves us”
(milonga silbada que no reconocemos y que
nos toca). In Praise of Darkness is also the title
of the poem dedicated to the theme of death,
so dear to Borges, which closes the book,
re-published by Adelphi in 2007 and edited by
Tommaso Scarano. “Soon I shall know who I
am” (Pronto sabré quién soy) is the last verse
of In Praise of Darkness, the poem that begins
with “Old age (this is the name that others
give it) – Borges stated, convinced instead that
it – may prove a time of happiness. […] This
growing dark is slow and brings no pain; it
flows along an easy slope and is akin to
eternity.” How could we blame him?
“La vejez (tal es el nombre que los otros le dan)
Puede ser el tiempo de nuestra dicha.
[…]
Esta penumbra es lenta y no duele;
fluye por un manso declive
y se parece a la eternidad.”
The other theme equally dear to Borges is the
flow of time, the “panta rei” of Ephesus. And
the flow of life is imagined by Borges in the
poem titled Heraclitus, as a variation of the
light in the twenty-four hours, starting from
the end of the day: “The day’s second twilight.
Night that sinks into sleep. Purification and
oblivion. The day’s first twilight. Morning that
was once dawn. Day that once was morning.
The crowded day that will become the weary
evening. The day’s second twilight. That other
habit of time, night.”
“El segundo crepúsculo.
La noche que se ahonda en el sueño.
La purificación y el olvido.
El primer crepúsculo.
La mañana que ha sido el alba.
El día que fue la mañana.
El día numeroso que será la tarde gastada.
El segundo crepúsculo.
Ese otro hábito del tiempo, la noche.”
The rhythm of the verses and the pauses of the
Heraclitus poem demonstrate the paradox of
change and permanence of time and light, the
succession of what is no longer or what is not
yet, and express – as Scarano declared – the
anguish of a future that is none other than us,
the inconsistency and fleetingness of each
state. As Borges recited, “I was made of a
changing substance, of mysterious time. Maybe
the source is in me. Maybe out of my shadow
the days arise, relentless and unreal”.
De una materia deleznable fui hecho,
de misterioso tiempo.
Acaso el manantial está en mí.
Acaso de mi sombra
surgen, fatales e ilusorios, los días.”
Ultimately, the passing nature of existence
materializes in the shadows, where there is
still light but we are waiting (a sweet wait, for
Borges) to know who we are: “Soon – says
Borges in the last verse of the poem that closes
the book – I shall know who I am.”
EPIPHANIES OF LIGHT / LUCE 332 31