Borges

Argentinian writer Borges have said, "I have always imagined that paradise will be a kind of library." He have also said, there was once map that was so comprehensive that it covered the entire earth surface, to which it was representative of.

I nearly confused Borges to be the writer of The Invisible City, and realized it's written by Calvino. I probably established this connection because Calvino's If on a Winter's Night a Traveller, through which a reader will read into a reader's experience reading a book called If on a Winter's Night a Traveller. It was this recursivity that I connected Borges and Calvino together.

Another two writers with unique writing structures are Nabokov and Claude Simon.

Excerpts from The Garden of Forking Paths

"Are you going to Dr. Stephen Albert's house?" Without waiting for my answer, another said: "The house is a good distance away but you won't get lost if you take the road to the left and bear to the left at every crossroad."

The advice about turning always to the left reminded me that such was the common formula for finding the central courtyard of certain labyrinths. I know something about labyrinths. Not for nothing am I the greatgrandson of Ts'ui Pen. He was Governor of Yunnan and gave up temporal power to write a novel with more characters than there are in the Hung Lou Meng, and to create a maze in which all men would lose themselves. He spent thirteen years on these oddly assorted tasks before he was assassinated by a stranger. His novel had no sense to it and nobody ever found his labyrinth.

Differing from Newton and Schopenhauer, your ancestor did not think of time as absolute and uniform. He believed in an infinite series of times, in a dizzily growing, ever spreading network of diverging, converging and parallel times. This web of time - the strands of which approach one another, bifurcate, intersect or ignore each other through the centuries - embraces every possibility. We do not exist in most of them. In some you exist and not I, while in others I do, and you do not, and in yet others both of us exist.