The concept of infinity never fails to perplex me. Previously, my visions of infinity were focused mainly on the idea of outer space. I imagined swirling galaxies of nebulas and planets and dark matter. Each time, I was filled with this overwhelming feeling of being a tiny insignificant speck in the cosmos. Perhaps that’s why, when I first read The Library of Babel, I was so perplexed by this new idea of infinity.
Jorge Luis Borges' The Library of Babel describes the universe as an infinite library. The library is composed of an indefinite number of identical hexagonal galleries. The wall of each hexagon contains five bookshelves. Each bookshelf contains thirty-two books, each with 410 pages. The only 25 symbols found is each book are the comma, period, space, and twenty two letters of the alphabet. For the most part, the books in the Library of Babel are filled with gibberish with the twenty five symbols arranged in random orders. However, with the library being infinite in size, it contains the complete expression of all words and every story. The narrator was on a quest in search of a book as a young man, but he has grown old in the library and is preparing to die.
The Library of Babel gave me a new contrasting sense of perhaps how to view infinity. In the cosmos, I imagine an infinite expanse of dark nothingness, but in the Library of Babel, there would be an infinite collection of knowledge and information surrounding me. Reading The Library of Babel, I envisioned the library to be akin to an impossible maze - each turn into a new gallery would present an identical view of bookshelves. Being stuck in an infinite library initially seemed like a dream to me, but as I read on, I realized that the identical hexagonal rooms with identical bookshelves and identical book-forms would push me to the brink of lunacy. If I were stuck in the Library of Babel, I would likely wander off and become lost, and eventually feel an overwhelming sense of personal insignificance in comparison to the uncountable books and information around me.
I think the idea I’m trying to encapsulate in this stream of consciousness-style reflection is that reading Jorge Luis Borges’ work created a new perspective to think about infinity. Perhaps I’ll reread The Library of Babel in a few year and glean more from what Jorge Luis Borges was trying to convey about infinity. I’d previously never read any of Jorge Luis Borges’, but The Library of Babel was definitely a fascinating first read.