BORGES AND PARACELSUS

Like all men, like all living things on earth, Borges is inexhaustible. In one of his lesser-known books, Shakespeare's Memory (1983), a slender collection of four stories, three of them previously published elsewhere plus one new one that lends the volume its title, the reader can find and read or reread "The Rose of Paracelsus," a very simple text, diaphanous in execution, that describes how Paracelsus is visited by a man who wants to be his disciple. That's all there is to it. The story is told with a kind of languor suited to the time of day, which is dusk. Paracelsus is tired and a small fire burns in the hearth. Then night falls and Paracelsus, who has dozed off, hears someone knocking. The stranger at the door wants to be his disciple.

The story begins like this: "Down in his laboratory, to which the two rooms of the cellar had been given over, Paracelsus prayed to his God, his indeterminate God-any God- to send him a disciple." And the disciple, when the skies have long been dark, has come at last, and he hands Paracelsus a pouch full of gold coins and a rose. At first Paracelsus thinks that the disciple wants to become an alchemist, but the disciple soon clears up the misunderstanding. "Gold is of no interest to me," he says. What does he want, then? The path to the Stone. To which Paracelsus replies: "The path is the Stone. The point of departure is the Stone. If these words are unclear to you, you have not yet begun to understand. Every step you take is the goal you seek."

The stranger says that he's ready to endure every necessary hardship alongside Paracelsus, but before he takes the final step he needs some proof. Paracelsus, troubled, doesn't ask what proof he demands, but when he wants to see this proof. Immediately, the stranger answers. "They had begun their discourse in Latin; they now were speaking German," writes Borges. "You are famed," says the stranger, "for being able to burn a rose to ashes and make it emerge again, by the magic of your art. Let me witness that prodigy. I ask that of you, and in return I will offer up my entire life."

From this point on, the conversation turns philosophical. Paracelsus asks if he believes anyone is capable of destroying rose. No one is incapable, says the aspiring disciple. Paracelsus argues that nothing that exists can be destroyed. Everything is mortal, answers the stranger. "If you cast this rose into the embers," says Paracelsus, "you would believe that it has been consumed, and that its ashes are real. I tell you that the rose is eternal, and that only its appearances may change. At a word from me, you would see it again." The stranger is puzzled by this response. He insists that Paracelsus burn the rose and make it rise from the ashes, whether with alembics or with the Word. Paracelsus resists: he talks about semblances that sooner or later lead to disenchantment, he talks about faith and credulity, he talks about the search. The stranger takes the rose and throws it on the fire. It burns to ashes. The stranger, says Borges "for one infinite moment awaited the words and the miracle." But Paracelsus doesn't do anything, he just sit there sadly and is reminded of the physicians and pharmacist of Basilea who believe he's a fraud. The stranger thinks he understands and tries not to humiliate him any further. He ceases his demands, takes back his gold coins, and politely leaves. Despite the love and admiration he feels for Paracelsus, vilified by all, he understands that under the mask there is nothing

And he asks himself: who am I to judge and expose Paracelsus? A little while later they bid each other farewell. Paracelsus accompanies the stranger to the door, telling him he'll always be welcome in his house. The stranger promises to return. They both know they'll never see each other again. Alone now, and before he puts out the lamp, Paracelsus scoops up the ashes and utters a single word in a low voice. And in his hands the rose springs back to life.

Roberto Bolano