During my daily trawl through the Wikipedia, I came across a good entry on Borges' "Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius" (1940)
. The entry also includes this illustration, which I really like, and reproduce here.
The story is well-known, and I won't summarize it here. But it contains some of the offhand gems with which Borges freights his works, like so:
Some limited and waning memory of Herbert Ashe, an engineer of the southern railways, persists in the hotel at Adrogue, amongst the effusive honeysuckles and in the illusory depths of the mirrors. In his lifetime, he suffered from unreality, as do so many Englishmen; once dead, he is not even the ghost he was then...
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