El Aleph by Jorge Luis Borges

By Jorge Luis Borges

“Uno de los artistas contemporáneos más memorables… los angeles deuda que tenemos contraída con él quienes escribimos en español es enorme”. —Mario Vargas Llosa

Considerado uno de los escritores más influyentes del siglo XX en cualquier idioma, los angeles obra de Jorge Luis Borges continúa inspirando a nuevas generaciones de lectores gracias al deslumbrante poder de sus imágenes y los angeles inmensa profundidad de sus temas.

Originalmente publicada en 1949, esta colección reúne dieciocho relatos entre los que se encuentra algunos de los más admirados cuentos de l. a. literatura: “El Aleph”, los angeles clásica historia de una resplandeciente esfera en los angeles que confluyen de un modo asombroso todos los tiempos y todos los espacios en el universo; “El Zahir”, una fascinante reflexión sobre los angeles obsesión, Borges narra l. a. historia de un objeto que inspira los angeles fascinación inmediata de todos aquellos que lo ven hasta consumir su atención y realidad completa; y “El Inmortal”, un inquietante viaje a través de los angeles Ciudad de los Inmortales, un laberíntico mundo en el que todo, incluso los edificios y las escaleras, aparece caóticamente abnormal o invertido.

Juntos, estos dieciocho relatos, cada uno singularmente unique y complejo a su manera,  representan una pieza clave en el museo de los angeles obra del maestro argentino, así como en los anales de los angeles literatura common.

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She’d instinctively crouched over her siblings, and when she stood and 23 C H A N G - R A E L E E looked back at the spot there was nothing but a burning half-chassis. She ordered her brother and sister to stay put and she ran there, in perfect silence, her heart feeling like it would burst out of her chest. The rest of the truck was in small pieces, its parts on the road and blown for dozens of meters on either side. The section in flames lay at the rim of a blackened crater in the road that the explosion had dug two meters deep and many times as wide.

The blood poured out as if from a spigot and she squeezed the stump as she ran, but one hand wasn’t strong enough. She could not do it. So she halted and laid him on the ground, gripping 29 C H A N G - R A E L E E the stump again with two hands. The cars were slowly rolling past them, only a third of the train remaining. ” he murmured. ” He was losing consciousness, the color draining from his face. ” June nodded. ” She nodded again. “It’s okay. ” She let go his still-warm hand, kissed his still-warm face.

The wheels of the train squealed and it began to inch forward, as though the locomotive was now pushing off the rails whatever obstacle it had struck. Then the train stopped for a moment before moving again. The woman’s own children, who sat on top of the boxcar, yelled for her to get back on. But the woman couldn’t cinch the belt tightly enough, and Ji-Young was bleeding freely again. The train kept moving, a little faster now, and the woman’s children began to shriek for their mother, high panic in their wails.

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