耶稣墓遭强行撬开！ 《圣经》原稿曝光！全球十亿信徒彻底破防！#耶稣墓 #圣经原稿 #信仰崩塌 #宗教考古 #圆桌派 #马未都 #梁文道 #一千零一夜

耶稣墓遭强行撬开！《圣经》原稿曝光！全球十亿信徒彻底破防！#耶稣墓 #圣经原稿 #信仰崩塌 #宗教考古 #圆桌派 #马未都 #梁文道 #一千零一夜 节目首先从巴勒斯坦名门努赛贝家族世代掌管圣墓教堂钥匙的历史切入，借哲学家萨利·努赛贝的回忆录探讨巴以冲突的无解死结、历史诉求的荒谬性以及从“两国方案”走向“一国方案”的宪政思考。随后，话题转向文学元叙事与形而上学思辨，重点解读了阿根廷文豪博尔赫斯的哲学内核。通过分析《皮埃尔·梅纳尔》、《通天塔图书馆》、《沙之书》、《论科学的精确性》与《记忆奇人富内斯》等经典作品，深刻剖析了文本副本、无限宇宙、读者自由以及“遗忘对人类认知与理智之必要性”的深层命题。 巴勒斯坦哲学家萨利·努赛贝通过家族历史与亲身经历剖析巴以冲突，主张放弃“回归权”，并从两国方案转向基于宪政爱国主义的“一国方案”。 (13:20) 温和派在政治极化中屡遭双向排挤：努赛贝非暴力倡议遭以色列安全机构涂抹抹黑，同时因务实妥协被哈马斯等激进派别列为刺杀目标。 (4:36) 博尔赫斯通过《皮埃尔·梅纳尔》等作品颠覆原创性神话，证明在不同历史与哲学语境下，即便逐字重合的文本也会产生全然不同的思想深度与读者解读。 (29:30) 在《记忆奇人富内斯》与《论科学的精确性》中，博尔赫斯揭示了极致记录与无限记忆的荒谬性，强调人类提炼抽象概念与认知世界的本质在于“遗忘”的修剪能力。 (54:45)

本期节目通过梁文道对巴勒斯坦学者萨利·努赛贝的回忆录以及阿根廷作家博尔赫斯文学哲学的双重视角，探讨了历史包袱与现实政治的解构，并深入剖析了文本复制、无限记忆与遗忘对人类认知的形而上意义。 努赛贝的家族宿命与超越历史旧账的和平构想 (0:02) 萨利·努赛贝出身于自哈里发欧麦尔时代便执掌基督教圣墓教堂钥匙的耶路撒冷名门，其家族历代显赫却在现代冲突中失去田产，甚至其86岁的母亲亦在机场遭受严酷搜身羞辱。然而，背负深重国仇家恨的努赛贝并未走向极端，他在第一次大起义中坚持非暴力抗争，并主张巴勒斯坦人应务实放弃“回归权”，以确立两国和平共存，这一温和立场导致他同时遭受哈马斯暗杀威胁与以色列安全机构的抹黑和拘捕。 针对围绕土地归属的“自古以来”论调，梁文道借印第安人与定居历史类比指出，纠缠于两千年的渊源还是千百年的实际居住权是一场打不完的逻辑官司。面对以色列定居点不断蚕食领土导致“两国方案”在物理与经济上难以为继的现状，努赛贝晚年与萨义德等人转向“一国方案”，主张摒弃基于种族与宗教的排他特权，依托平等的宪法与“宪政爱国主义”建立共享的民主国家。 博尔赫斯对独创神话与文学真实的形而上解构 (18:20) 节目随后切入博尔赫斯的哲学文学。博尔赫斯避开现实主义社会描摹与长篇巨制，沉迷于“副本、镜像与分身”的命题，甚至借《堂吉诃德》、《哈姆雷特》等经典的套层结构质疑现实读者自身是否亦属虚构。在名篇《吉诃德的作者皮埃尔·梅纳尔》中，他虚构了一位20世纪诗人独立写出与塞万提斯一字不差的《唐吉诃德》章节的思想实验。 博尔赫斯断言梅纳尔的版本远比原版深刻：同样一句“历史是真理的母亲”，在17世纪只是修辞颂词，置于20世纪威廉·詹姆斯的实用主义哲学背景下则转化为颠覆性的认识论断言。这证明文字意义并非被作者固化，读者的自由阐释打破了作者的天才独创神话；若经典能在不同时空被重写复现，作品的“历史必然性”与主体的唯一性便随之瓦解。 无限知识的深渊与“沙之书”的秩序梦魇 (43:23) 尽管流行文化常浪漫化博尔赫斯“天堂是图书馆”的名言，但在其笔下，无限的文本往往是恐怖的牢笼。《通天塔图书馆》将宇宙构想为无休止蔓延的六角形回廊，其中塞满杂乱无章的乱码天书，人类在其中永远无法企及意义的尽头与出口。 这种对无限的恐惧在《沙之书》中体现得更加具体：书中页码毫无规律，翻过去的插图永不再现，封面与封底之间始终能生出新页，成为无始无终的浩瀚之物。这种打破物理与数学常理的无限并未带来智识的喜悦，反而催生了遮蔽世界的恐惧，促使叙述者最终只能借助图书馆馆长的职权，将其隐匿在洗手间角落的缝隙中予以永恒遗忘。 精确复制的荒谬与作为思维剪刀的遗忘法则 (50:51) 在《论科学的精确性》中，博尔赫斯描绘了一个帝国倾尽国力绘制一比一比例的全国地图，结果国土有多大地图便有多大，旅人为了看前方一公里需在图上跋涉十公里，导致终极的精确彻底沦为被废弃在荒漠中的无用废墟。埃科曾指出，这种企图在物理上穷尽现实的尝试在逻辑和空间上均无法成立。 《记忆奇人富内斯》则将此悖论引申至人类意识层面。因坠马获得“绝对记忆”的富内斯能瞬间感知葡萄藤的每根细微纹理与天际浮云的精确像素，但这种无过滤机制的大脑将记忆沦为“垃圾场”，重构一天的经历需要耗费整整一天，反而使其丧失了抽象概念与思考的能力。人类之所以能提炼出规律与智慧，核心并不在巨细靡遗的累积，而在于“遗忘”如同园丁的剪刀，唯有修剪掉冗杂信息，理智的大树才不至于在重压下轰然倒塌。 无论是直面中东现实政治中不可逆的既成事实，还是博尔赫斯在文本与认知迷宫中的思辨，核心均指向摆脱对“神圣独创”与“无限穷尽”的偏执执念；人类的理性与出路，往往建立在克制、权衡与必要的“遗忘”与妥协之上。

本期节目通过梁文道对萨利·努赛贝回忆录的讲述，探讨巴以冲突中温和派面对的政治与历史困局，并由此延伸至阿根廷作家博尔赫斯的哲学小说，反思副本、无限与人类认知中遗忘的本质价值。 巴勒斯坦温和派的现实困境与政治方案 (0:02) 第二任哈里发欧麦尔曾出于避免宗教冲突的远见，拒绝在圣墓教堂内祈祷，并将大门钥匙托付给穆斯林努赛贝家族世代保管。作为该家族后裔，巴勒斯坦学者兼哲学家萨利·努赛贝（Sari Nusseibeh）在第一届大起义期间主张非暴力抵抗，公开提出巴勒斯坦人应务实放弃“回归权”，承认以色列国不可抹去的既成事实，以求达成两国方案。这一温和立场导致他受到双重挤压：哈马斯等激进派别指控其叛国并图谋刺杀，而以色列安全部门则伪造激进派传单对其进行抹黑，并在第一次海湾战争期间以莫须有的伊拉克间谍罪名将其投入拉姆拉监狱，引发苏珊·桑塔格、爱德华·萨义德、乔姆斯基以及美国国务院的公开抗议。 面对深重的家族创伤——其祖父故居被占、八旬母亲在机场遭受两小时搜身侮辱——努赛贝与学者萨义德晚年均认识到，因以色列定居点的严重蚕食和巴勒斯坦对以方的深度依附，两国方案在现实中已难以为继。他们进而倡导“一国方案”，即以“宪政爱国主义”取代排他性的血缘与宗教狂热，由两个民族共同建立一部保障人人平等公正宪法的民主政体。梁文道借此驳斥了以两千年前遗迹为由驱逐定居千百年原住民的“自古以来”历史逻辑，指出两派强硬势力均只固守自身苦难并依赖塑造邪恶敌人来维持动员，使理性求真的温和派沦为两头不讨好的边缘人。 元叙事、副本思辨与原创神话的颠覆 (18:20) 节目随后切入文学哲学领域。从塞万提斯在《堂吉诃德》第二部让主角阅读自身第一部，到莎士比亚《哈姆雷特》的戏中戏、《罗摩衍那》的史诗认父以及《一千零一夜》第600夜王妃复述讲故事开端，博尔赫斯梳理出世界文学中共通的套层结构，并提出存在论质疑：如果虚构人物能成为虚构作品的读者，现实中的读者是否同样只是虚构产物？博尔赫斯坚决摒弃长篇小说与传统的现实主义描摹，在中年失明与博览群书的背景下，对“镜子、副本与分身”展开长期思辨，以此解构主体的真实性与作品的独创性。 这种思辨集中体现于其短篇《吉诃德的作者皮埃尔·梅纳尔》。小说中，20世纪的法国象征派诗人梅纳尔在不抄袭原书的前提下，独立写出与塞万提斯一字不差的三个章节。博尔赫斯断言梅纳尔的版本远比原版深刻：同样的语句“历史是真理的母亲”，在17世纪的塞万提斯笔下仅是随手拈来的修辞陈词，而在经历威廉·詹姆斯实用主义哲学的20世纪现代人笔下，则转变为揭示“历史是人类知觉与经验产物”的深刻认识论断言。这表明文字的意义脱离了作者的绝对固化，文本不再享有不可替代的“历史必然性”，原创神话随之被读者的自由阐释权力所瓦解。 无限知识的深渊与“沙之书”的梦魇 (43:23) 流行文化常将博尔赫斯的名言“天堂应该就像一座图书馆的样子”浪漫化，梁文道指出其小说对无限知识的描摹实质上充满冰冷的梦魇色彩。在《通天塔图书馆》中，宇宙被具象为由无尽六边形回廊构成的无限蜂巢，里面堆满排列组合生成的无序字母天书，穷尽一切可能性的结果反而是彻底的荒谬与迷失，使图书馆演变为令人窒息的宇宙级牢笼。 在晚期小说《沙之书》中，博尔赫斯以第一人称叙述自己从推销员手中购得一本来自印巴边境偏僻村落的布面典籍。该书如同散落的沙尘，单双页码毫无规则且无始无终，翻过去的插图永不复现，封面与封底之间永远能滋生出新的书页。面对这一打破数学与物理常理的无限造物，主人公不仅未能获得求知的喜悦，反而陷入了深重的精神恐惧——甚至因担忧无限书籍燃烧产生的烟尘会遮蔽地球而不敢将其焚毁，最终借职务之便将其隐匿在阿根廷国家图书馆的阴暗角落，并终生不敢再涉足该馆。 地图悖论与遗忘作为认知的修剪法则 (50:51) 博尔赫斯在极短篇《论科学的精确性》中构想了一个制图学登峰造极的古代帝国，为追求绝对的精密，最终绘制出一幅与国土一比一等大、在物理上完全覆盖帝国的巨型地图。然而正如学者翁贝托·埃科等人所指出的，这种极端的精确直接导致其实用价值彻底归零，巨图最终在岁月侵蚀下沦为荒漠中乞丐与野兽避风的残破碎屑。这一寓言证明，巨细靡遗地物理复制世界对于认知而言不仅毫无意义，反而在逻辑上陷入死局。 这种对“完全复现”的批判在短篇《记忆奇人富内斯》中被引入人类思维领域。主人公富内斯因堕马瘫痪后大脑突变，丧失了信息过滤机制，获得了对所有感知细节的无限绝对记忆。他能穷尽葡萄藤上每一颗果实的纹理，甚至需要花费整整一天时间来在大脑中重现自己经历过的一天，导致其精神沦为堆满全人类感知杂质的“垃圾场”，彻底丧失了理解抽象几何概念与提炼规律的理性思维能力。梁文道据此阐释，人类能够进行理性思考和理解世界的基石并不在于无节制的记忆，而在于“遗忘”这一修剪机制；若任由无尽的信息细枝末节肆意疯长，人类心智必将在信息超载的重压下崩溃。 本期节目由巴以现实中各方对“绝对正义”与“历史源头”的执念，跨越至博尔赫斯对无限信息与绝对记忆的解构，共同指向了一个深层启示：无论是地缘政治的和解还是个体心智的清醒，均需放下对穷尽过去与不可改变之物的狂热执念，依靠理性的克制与“遗忘/舍弃”来确立生存与认知的秩序。

[4:36] Sari Nusseibeh: The more violent we are, the less the world will support us. [39:07] 梁文道: 读者就是可以任意地、自由地去诠释任何一本书，同一本书每个人读出来的意思都不一样。 [43:23] Jorge Luis Borges: 在我的心目中，天堂应该就像一座图书馆的样子。 [26:51] 梁文道: 副本意味着对原创性的颠覆与挑战。究竟存不存在一个真实的‘我’？有没有可能我只是一个副本？ [54:45] Ireneo Funes: 我的记忆就像一个垃圾场，里面堆放着自世界开端以来全人类所有记忆的总和。

[0:02] It is said that the site where Jesus [0:03] was crucified and later buried for [0:05] three days became a grand church. He [0:09] entered the church to visit, and the [0:11] locals said, "You can pray here now, [0:13] since you Muslims have conquered us, [0:15] right?" You could pray here, but what [0:17] did Omar do? He said, "I absolutely [0:20] cannot do that, not because this is an [0:22] infidel's church, but because if I pray [0:24] here today, future Muslims will do the [0:26] same. If future Muslims do that, this [0:29] holy site of yours will be turned into [0:32] a mosque." That would lead to endless [0:34] bloodshed and constant conflict, which [0:36] would be unacceptable. "I want to [0:38] respect the Christians; you must remain [0:40] here and continue to manage this place. [0:42] " So he entrusted the key to the [0:45] church's main gate to a trusted [0:46] companion, as he could not trust others [0:48] . Christians could certainly continue [0:53] to enter, but the key had to be held by [0:55] one person who would treat the [0:56] Christians fairly. Who was this [1:00] key-bearer, this doorkeeper? It was [1:02] entrusted to the Nuseibeh family. And [1:05] so, the Nuseibeh family—who are [1:07] Muslims. Their family history includes [1:09] Sufi saints and Grand Judges of [1:11] Jerusalem; they have always been this [1:13] way and are also major landowners. Yet, [1:16] one of their primary identities is as [1:18] the keepers of the key to the Church of [1:20] the Holy Sepulchre, the most important [1:22] holy site for billions of Christians [1:24] worldwide, a role held until the [1:26] generation of our author, Nuseibeh. Why [1:29] was their family so prominent? Just [1:32] think about how many streets in [1:33] Jerusalem once belonged to them. Why [1:36] did his father tell his son, "Son, our [1:38] family are thieves"? What did that mean [1:41] ? It was because he wanted his son not [1:44] to dwell on or brag about their [1:46] glorious past history. Always look at [1:50] the present. Always look at the current [1:53] moment and be realistic. What is [1:55] reality? The reality is what we see [1:58] today as the tail-end issue, and why is [2:01] this book called "Once Upon a Country"? [2:08] Once there was a country, and that is [2:09] what we see in the author's childhood [2:11] memories in this book—what this place [2:13] was like before today's Israel, when it [2:15] was still a British Mandate, or even [2:17] earlier under the Ottoman Empire. Do [2:24] you remember me telling you before that [2:25] the nation-state is a modern invention? [2:30] We modern people believe that a nation [2:32] should own a territory, that it should [2:33] establish a government there, and that [2:35] other peoples living there must follow [2:37] the will of the dominant nation. But [2:40] empires were not like that; empires [2:42] have always been places of multi-ethnic [2:44] , multi-religious, and multi-cultural [2:46] coexistence. I am not praising [2:48] imperialism, but rather pointing out [2:49] that their methods of control were [2:51] different. Whether it was Britain or [2:54] the Ottoman Empire, the policies they [2:55] implemented here were relatively more [2:57] relaxed and tolerant. In this book, you [3:00] can see a side of Israel or Jerusalem [3:02] that differs from what we see on TV [3:04] today or what you might have personally [3:06] experienced. Jews were among the [3:10] earliest supporters of socialism; Marx [3:12] was Jewish, and Trotsky was Jewish, so [3:14] by the early 20th century, many Jews [3:16] who fled to the land of Israel still [3:18] held onto socialist ideals. They [3:24] established their own version of [3:25] people's communes, reclaiming the [3:27] desert and the wilderness, building [3:29] farms, and even creating orchards and [3:31] forests. In these kibbutzim, children [3:36] were raised collectively, everyone ate [3:38] together in public canteens, and the [3:40] fruits of everyone's labor were [3:42] distributed equally; it was a socialist [3:44] paradise, filled with a humanitarian [3:46] spirit. Our author, the great [3:51] philosopher Nuseibeh, joined one such [3:53] kibbutz at the time to see what these [3:55] Israelis were actually doing; he was [3:57] very moved by them, feeling their [3:58] ideals were grand and noble. But he [4:04] knew these people were ready to arm [4:06] themselves against an external enemy at [4:08] any moment, and that so-called enemy [4:10] was a Palestinian like him. He realized [4:16] they had noble humanitarian passion and [4:18] ideals, yet the "humanity" they spoke [4:20] of did not seem to include Arabs. He [4:25] looked at his own people, and his own [4:26] people seemed to have never treated the [4:28] Jews as human beings either; what on [4:30] earth was going on? Thus, he began to [4:33] become a pacifist. Indeed, he promoted [4:36] many important movements during the [4:38] Palestinian nation-building process, [4:40] such as the Intifada, the first [4:42] Palestinian uprising that began in the [4:44] late 1980s. That uprising was triggered [4:48] when four Jews drove a truck into a [4:49] group of Palestinian refugees. These [4:54] refugees had previously lived where the [4:56] Jews now reside, families living there [4:58] for generations, their ancestors buried [5:00] there, until they fled their homes and [5:02] were forced into camps. The truck [5:06] crashed in and killed some of these [5:08] refugees. The Palestinians could no [5:13] longer endure it; they took to the [5:14] streets to throw stones at the Israeli [5:16] soldiers pointing guns at them, and [5:18] they also launched various non-violent [5:20] protests, including strikes and [5:22] demonstrations. Throughout the entire [5:26] movement, Nuseibeh served as a moral [5:28] exemplar. He appealed to everyone not [5:31] to use violence, saying, "The more [5:32] violent we are, the less the world will [5:34] support us." He played a significant [5:37] role, helping raise funds to support [5:39] the families of those who fled, and [5:41] finding lawyers to defend those who had [5:43] been arrested. But later on, he became [5:47] a figure who was not particularly [5:48] welcomed by either side. Because on one [5:52] hand, he understood that the Jews, [5:53] those Israelis who had nowhere else to [5:55] live in the world, had finally returned [5:57] to the land that belonged to them 2,000 [5:59] years ago to build a home; they could [6:01] never move away again, and the state of [6:03] Israel, having become a reality, could [6:05] not be made to disappear. But on the [6:09] other hand, should those Palestinians [6:11] who had already been driven out also [6:13] give up their right to return to their [6:14] homeland? He believed they should. We [6:20] should live on the land we currently [6:22] possess, have Israel accept us, tear [6:24] down the walls on both sides, and [6:26] restore all normal relations so we can [6:28] establish a two-state solution; this is [6:30] the so-called two-state solution to the [6:32] Palestinian problem. As a supporter and [6:38] believer in this proposition, many [6:40] Palestinians—especially radicals, and [6:42] particularly militants like Hamas— [6:44] hated him and wanted to assassinate him [6:46] . As for the Israeli side, while some [6:50] welcomed his opinions, others hated him [6:52] , and those who hated him most were [6:54] precisely the hardliners within the [6:56] Israeli government, especially their [6:58] security services. Why would the [7:01] security services hate an olive branch [7:03] offered by a Palestinian today? The [7:06] reason is very simple. In fact, all [7:07] such people within hardline governments [7:09] hate anyone who advocates for peace and [7:11] non-violence, because if you advocate [7:13] for peace and non-violence, it means [7:15] you want to sit down and talk with me; [7:17] and if you sit down to talk with me, [7:19] that means negotiation, and negotiation [7:21] requires both sides to make concessions [7:23] to reach peace. No, we don't want that [7:25] kind of peace. We don't want compromise [7:27] , we don't want concessions. We want an [7:30] enemy; we want a vicious, evil enemy. [7:33] The more I can portray the enemy as [7:35] irredeemably and extremely evil, the [7:37] more I can consolidate the public [7:39] behind me to support any of my hardline [7:41] policies. So how do we finally achieve [7:44] peace? By eliminating them. So the [7:48] Israeli security services distributed [7:50] leaflets in Palestine. What did those [7:53] leaflets say? They claimed that the [7:56] great philosopher Sari Nusseibeh had [7:58] sold out Arab rights and betrayed the [8:00] Palestinian people. It all looked as if [8:04] it were Arab radicals smearing him [8:06] themselves, but in reality, no one [8:08] expected that it was actually the work [8:10] of Israeli security personnel. Later, [8:16] when the first Gulf War broke out and [8:18] Iraq launched air raids on Israel, [8:20] Israel seized the opportunity to arrest [8:22] Nuseibeh on charges of acting as an [8:24] Iraqi spy. This event was a sensational [8:29] international incident at the time. [8:33] Many great writers and scholars [8:35] worldwide, such as Sontag, Said, and [8:37] Chomsky, signed open letters condemning [8:39] the Israeli government, stating that [8:41] they had arrested a prisoner of [8:42] conscience. Even the U.S. State [8:47] Department—and we know the U.S. has [8:49] always been a staunch supporter of [8:51] Israel—condemned Israel, saying that [8:53] this is someone you should sit down and [8:54] talk to, not someone you should arrest. [8:58] The problem is, now that they have [9:00] arrested him, what will be the outcome? [9:02] We know from this book about many of [9:04] Nuseibeh's comrades, and we see what [9:05] they went through after being arrested. [9:08] One of them was also a supporter of the [9:10] peace movement. His fate was to be tied [9:14] to a doorway by Israeli security agents [9:16] , forced to remain in an upright [9:17] position for a whole month without [9:19] being taken down, except for a short [9:21] time every day. And what for? To wash [9:24] up; you had to defecate and urinate in [9:26] your pants, while eating a little food. [9:28] "That's enough, thirty minutes up, tie [9:30] him back up." Someone as prestigious as [9:35] Sari Nuseibeh might not necessarily [9:36] receive such treatment, and indeed he [9:38] did not, but in this prison, he [9:40] unexpectedly attained a state of [9:42] fulfillment he had never dreamed of [9:43] before. What was that state of [9:48] fulfillment like? Let's see. The three [9:55] months of life in Ramla Prison gave me [9:57] a great bird's-eye view, or perhaps a [9:59] bird-in-a-cage's-eye view, to [10:00] understand exactly what the cultural [10:02] and political life of prisoners is like [10:04] . This is a topic that has fascinated [10:10] me for many years. There was a strange [10:15] feeling that I was just like I was at [10:17] home, or like a little boy riding a [10:18] happy bus to summer camp. My fellow [10:24] prisoners knew my case and me inside [10:26] out. Their extraordinary communication [10:31] system seemed so detailed and precise, [10:34] far superior to any newspaper. They [10:39] welcomed me into their club, and this [10:41] identity made me feel very proud; to me [10:43] , it was even more remarkable than the [10:45] Ph.D. certificate I received from [10:47] Harvard. Almost every day, I could hear [10:53] those unknown people behind the prison [10:55] cages and the small windows made of [10:57] wire mesh shouting their cheers for me. [11:02] The inmates saw me from the other side [11:04] of the window and called out to greet [11:05] me. I could often only make out their [11:12] fingers reaching through the wire-mesh [11:14] windows, but sometimes I’d hear [11:16] something strange, like some of them [11:17] shouting their names to get me to [11:19] recognize them, then suddenly asking, " [11:21] Teacher, teacher, do you remember me?"" [11:27] I took your class in college." So, we [11:32] see that S's life in prison wasn't [11:34] exactly terrible, but he certainly had [11:36] every reason to hate the Israelis. [11:42] Because it was they who inexplicably [11:44] threw him in prison for six months, and [11:46] the place where this prison stands is [11:47] not far from where his grandfather [11:49] lived—a place now completely occupied [11:51] by Jews. That kind of humiliation even [11:56] extended to his mother. One year, his [11:59] mother was already 86 years old, an [12:01] elderly grandmother, and the family was [12:03] headed to London for a reunion since [12:05] many of their relatives are in Europe. [12:11] Then, before boarding the plane at [12:13] Israel's Ben Gurion Airport, the family [12:15] was pulled aside by security and [12:16] searched for over two hours. An 86- [12:23] year-old woman's clothes were taken out [12:24] and checked piece by piece as if she [12:26] were hiding bombs, and then the [12:28] questioning lasted for another hour or [12:29] more. What was the point of that? Do we [12:33] still remember the story of his family? [12:36] Who was his mother? His mother was the [12:40] wife of a former mayor of Jerusalem, [12:41] because his father had once been the [12:43] mayor of Jerusalem. His family had such [12:47] a background, having held such status [12:49] in this place in the past; today, the [12:51] land the whole family once owned has [12:53] been taken by others, and now, in her [12:55] old age, must she still be subjected to [12:57] such treatment? Yet, it is precisely [13:03] because of this background that the [13:05] various peace proposals S offers today [13:07] seem exceptionally moving and even [13:09] persuasive, as he actually tells his [13:10] own compatriots to let it go and give [13:12] up the right of return. This sounds a [13:20] bit unbelievable, but it immediately [13:22] touches upon the myths many of us hold [13:24] regarding what constitutes territory [13:26] and what constitutes sacred, inviolable [13:28] rights. What do I mean by that? Let me [13:33] put it this way: when I visited Israel [13:35] a while back, a friend told me, "Oh, [13:37] after traveling around and seeing all [13:39] this, I’ve realized that this land [13:41] really does belong to the Israelis."" [13:43] Look, the ruins everywhere are Jewish [13:45] ruins. The Jews lived here over 2,000 [13:48] years ago before they were scattered [13:50] elsewhere. Today, isn't it only right [13:53] that they return?""Because this land [13:56] originally belonged to them, and those [13:58] Arabs were latecomers who encroached [13:59] upon their land." Then I told him, "But [14:02] have you tried looking at it from [14:03] another angle? What is meant by [14:05] encroachment?" Even if those Arabs were [14:08] "encroaching," so-called, they have [14:10] been here for over 1,300 years. Imagine [14:15] your grandfather, your [14:16] great-grandfather, your [14:17] great-great-great-great-grandfather. [14:21] Coming to Beijing. Staying there, your [14:25] family multiplying until now, and then [14:27] today someone comes and says, "Hey, the [14:29] place your family lives in,""was our [14:31] home 1,000 years ago. Now we're back, [14:34] so leave, get out." How would you feel? [14:39] Imagine again, if all the Native [14:41] American Indians in the United States [14:43] today stood up and said, "This place is [14:45] ours, you white people go back to [14:46] Europe, this has nothing to do with you [14:48] , get out." What do you think this [14:52] world would be like? Are we talking [14:56] about the right to reside for those who [14:58] have lived here continuously for over a [15:00] thousand years, or conversely, those [15:02] Jews who say their roots are here, that [15:04] they left 2,000 years ago, and that [15:05] they have more rights? This kind of [15:11] logic can be debated endlessly. But if [15:15] we truly want to achieve peace, [15:16] shouldn't we clearly see what the [15:18] current situation is? The current [15:21] situation is that the state of Israel [15:23] exists as a reality. No one can expect [15:26] to wipe it off the map. Conversely, [15:29] those Palestinians and Arabs also truly [15:32] exist in this place. A few decades ago, [15:35] this was all their home, and today they [15:37] have new communities; this also cannot [15:39] be erased. So, how on earth should we [15:42] coexist? Sarzeba once advocated for a [15:45] two-state solution as the ultimate way [15:47] to resolve the Middle East issue, but [15:49] he has abandoned it; he now believes it [15:51] should be a one-state solution. In fact [15:54] , using the same approach, another [15:55] famous Palestinian intellectual in [15:57] Israel, Edward Said, who taught and [15:59] researched in the U.S. for a long time, [16:01] also proposed that the true solution to [16:03] the Israeli-Palestinian issue is not a [16:05] two-state solution, but a one-state [16:07] solution. The so-called one-state means [16:10] two peoples jointly building a nation [16:12] that makes no distinctions of race, [16:14] belief, or culture, where everyone’s [16:16] reason for living on this land is [16:18] supported by a constitution that is [16:19] fair to all—that is what is called [16:21] constitutional patriotism. A true [16:26] democratic nation is like this, rather [16:28] than one based on race or based on [16:30] religious belief. It has become [16:34] unrealistic to force a two-state [16:36] solution today, especially for the [16:38] Palestinians, who rely on the Israelis [16:40] for so many aspects of their lives— [16:42] how could you possibly expect them to [16:44] be fully independent? Furthermore, this [16:48] land is constantly being eroded by the [16:50] Israelis through all kinds of [16:51] settlements and reclamation areas; what [16:53] is to be done about this? In fact, he [16:59] certainly has reasons to hate the [17:00] Israelis; in this book, we see how he [17:02] witnessed generations of Israeli [17:04] leaders who never had any sincere [17:06] intention of reconciling or negotiating [17:08] with the Palestinians. He also saw how [17:16] successive Israeli security agencies [17:18] harassed his life, even assassinating [17:20] many of his comrades and friends, while [17:22] countless others were innocently thrown [17:24] into prison, and so many were forced to [17:26] leave their homes, especially [17:27] considering his family was once a [17:29] wealthy dynasty that has now lost [17:31] everything they owned. Yet at the same [17:38] time, don't think he is one-sidedly [17:40] taking the Palestinian perspective to [17:42] condemn Israel, because if you look [17:44] back, for example, at Arafat, whom he [17:46] once helped and advised—he felt [17:47] Arafat was a decent man, but he also [17:49] mercilessly pointed out Arafat's [17:51] authoritarianism and the weakness of [17:53] his subordinates, which made the entire [17:55] Palestinian government utterly corrupt; [17:57] he criticized them intensely. At the [18:01] same time, he also strongly condemns [18:02] the hawks among the Arabs. They always [18:05] believe they are the most righteous, [18:07] always seeing only their own suffering [18:09] while failing to see the other side. A [18:12] person like him is almost caught in a [18:13] dilemma, out of step with the times, [18:15] and would not be welcomed anywhere. We [18:20] spent four episodes discussing Don [18:22] Quixote, and that is because Don [18:23] Quixote is an extraordinary, [18:25] first-of-its-kind modern novel, and [18:27] there are many peculiar plots within it [18:29] that have attracted countless people to [18:31] emulate, study, and discuss it later. [18:35] For example, do you remember when I [18:37] mentioned that Don Quixote was divided [18:39] into two parts? At the beginning of the [18:45] second part, the protagonist, Don [18:47] Quixote, amazingly says that he has [18:49] read the first part of Don Quixote; in [18:50] other words, the protagonist of this [18:52] book has read the book itself. This is [18:59] a very interesting idea, isn't it? [19:03] About 300-plus years later, another [19:05] author writing in Spanish also noticed [19:07] this. Of course, countless people have [19:12] noticed and discussed this, but this [19:14] author was different from the rest; he [19:15] developed an association starting from [19:17] this point. He discovered that there is [19:21] actually no shortage of such examples [19:23] in the history of world literature. For [19:28] instance, Shakespeare, a contemporary [19:30] of Cervantes, included a plot point in [19:32] his immortal masterpiece, *Hamlet*, [19:34] where the Prince of Denmark watches a [19:36] play. The entire plot of that play [19:41] within the play is almost identical to [19:43] the plot of*Hamlet*itself. In other [19:47] words, the characters in*Hamlet*also [19:49] watch a performance of*Hamlet*. Beyond [19:54] that, there are examples from other [19:56] countries and cultures, such as the* [19:57] Ramayana*, one of the two great ancient [19:59] Indian epics. In the*Ramayana*, the [20:06] main protagonist Rama's two children [20:07] were taken away by an ascetic at a [20:09] young age, who then taught them to read [20:11] and write. So, what was the book he [20:16] taught them to read? It was precisely [20:20] the*Ramayana*itself. The miraculous [20:25] part is that Rama initially did not [20:27] recognize his two sons, but while [20:29] listening to wandering bards and [20:30] singers perform this long epic poem, he [20:33] suddenly realized, "Oh!""I actually [20:38] have two sons, and those two people are [20:40] them!" He ended up recognizing them. [20:45] This means the characters in the* [20:47] Ramayana*also happen to be readers and [20:48] audience members of the*Ramayana*. [20:52] Additionally, our program is called* [20:54] 1001 Nights*. Everyone knows the story [20:57] of*1001 Nights*, but has anyone noticed [21:00] that when the story reaches the 600th [21:02] night or so, a certain turn of events [21:04] occurs? That turn of events is this: [21:09] the consort who must constantly tell [21:11] stories to prolong her life tells the [21:13] King a story, and that story is [21:15] precisely the*1001 Nights*. The whole [21:24] story goes that there was a king who [21:26] would kill every woman he married after [21:27] just one night, so a consort told him [21:29] stories every day, hoping he would keep [21:31] listening and spare her life. So it [21:39] turns out that even*1001 Nights*has [21:41] this plot, where the characters within [21:43] the story become readers of the story [21:45] itself. After going through all these [21:50] amazing examples, this Spanish author [21:52] reached a conclusion. What was this [21:56] conclusion? He said that if these [22:04] fictional characters can become readers [22:05] of these fictional works, then as [22:07] readers and audience members of these [22:09] books, could we ourselves be fictional [22:11] characters as well? This sounds a bit [22:19] convoluted. But you can probably use an [22:22] image to represent it: it's like a [22:23] mirror. You are looking into a mirror. [22:30] When you look at your reflection in the [22:32] mirror, how do you know you aren't [22:33] living in a mirror world, being watched [22:35] by the reflection you see? Who is this [22:42] person with such a strange idea? He [22:47] also says that when you realize we [22:49] readers might just be characters in a [22:51] work of fiction, created as a construct [22:53] , you feel deeply unsettled. The writer [23:00] who proposed such an unsettling idea is [23:03] one of the most creative, famous, and [23:05] influential writers of the 20th century [23:07] : Argentina's national treasure, Jorge [23:09] Luis Borges. We have seen many comments [23:16] from our viewers asking us to talk [23:17] about Borges. Alright, starting today, [23:21] we will dedicate several episodes to [23:23] discussing Borges. Borges—I am [23:25] actually curious, why are there still [23:27] viewers today so interested in him? [23:32] Because among many young intellectuals [23:34] who like to compete in taste, Borges [23:36] seems to be considered a dated figure [23:37] in China. From the late 80s to the [23:42] early 90s, he was incredibly popular in [23:44] China. Back then, there was a concept [23:49] in our literary circles called "the [23:51] three." Which three? The first is [23:55] Márquez, author of "One Hundred Years [23:57] of Solitude." The second is Joyce, [24:01] author of "Ulysses," and the third is [24:04] Borges. These three figures caused a [24:09] great sensation in the Chinese literary [24:11] world at that time, and many people [24:13] love to label Borges's novels. It's [24:17] postmodernism—everyone says, "Oh, [24:19] this is postmodern." However, I think [24:22] this is just a very arbitrary label. [24:29] Postmodernism is a term that became [24:31] popular after the 1980s, but consider [24:33] this: the short stories, essays, and [24:35] articles that shocked everyone were [24:37] mostly written by Borges in the [24:39] mid-century. Especially his stunning, [24:47] philosophical, and prophetic short [24:49] stories, most of which were written [24:51] between the 1930s and 1950s. Reading [24:57] Borges again today, you will still find [24:59] that he possesses an astonishing [25:00] originality; it is quite different from [25:02] most of the modern Western literature [25:04] we are familiar with. Among these [25:09] differences, one point particularly [25:11] worth noting is that he almost always [25:13] wrote short stories, poems, essays, and [25:15] even scripts, but he never wrote novels [25:17] ; he never produced a single [25:19] full-length novel. Today, many of us [25:22] consider the novel the king of [25:24] literature. As mentioned earlier, [25:27] figures like Márquez and Joyce are [25:28] synonymous with the novel, but Borges [25:30] is different; he preferred writing [25:32] short stories. What’s strange is that [25:37] his short stories differ from the ones [25:38] we’re familiar with, like those since [25:40] Chekhov. They lack the realism modern [25:46] fiction demands, such as depicting [25:48] society or human conditions—none of [25:50] that is there. There isn’t really any [25:54] psychological depth to his characters [25:55] either. Modern novels, like the Don [26:01] Quixote we discussed, usually either [26:02] delve into a character’s personality [26:04] and inner mind or look outward at the [26:06] state of society; typically, the two [26:08] coexist, which is what we call modern. [26:15] But Borges’s fiction is different; [26:17] almost all of his short stories possess [26:19] a structure akin to a parable. You [26:24] could even say his fiction is the most [26:26] traditional form of storytelling. What [26:30] kind of stories are these, exactly? [26:34] They primarily focus on magical, [26:35] prophetic themes—stories with a [26:37] fable-like effect. There aren't many [26:43] complex details or scene descriptions; [26:45] you rarely see him discuss scenery or [26:47] the depths of the human heart. Some say [26:51] this is because he was blind. That’s [26:54] right. Another well-known [26:57] characteristic of Borges is that he [26:58] went blind in middle age. His eyesight [27:02] had been poor since childhood, just [27:03] like his father’s, who also struggled [27:05] with vision problems his entire life. [27:07] Borges eventually lost his sight [27:09] completely by the time he was in his [27:11] thirties or forties. Yet, despite being [27:15] a blind writer, he was considered one [27:17] of the most learned authors in the [27:19] Spanish language of his time. He knew [27:24] so much and had read so many books. [27:28] Just in terms of languages, beyond [27:30] Spanish, he knew Latin, French, German, [27:33] English, Old English, and even [27:35] understood Old Icelandic. How could [27:40] such a writer, who read so extensively, [27:42] also be blind? How was that possible? [27:48] What’s more, after he lost his sight [27:49] in middle age, he was appointed the [27:51] director of the National Library of [27:53] Argentina. There are too many stories [27:57] about his blindness to cover now; [27:59] we’ll talk more about that later. [28:04] Let’s return to our original topic— [28:06] what I mentioned at the start about his [28:07] awareness that the reader might be a [28:09] fiction. What is it that he is actually [28:14] concerned with here? It is like this: [28:18] he has always been full of interest in [28:20] mirrors, images, and replicas. Take [28:24] mirrors, for example; look at this [28:26] mirror. In this mirror, you see your [28:28] own reflection, so you could say this [28:30] reflection is a replica of you. He is [28:33] particularly obsessed with this. He is [28:35] also obsessed with replicas of replicas [28:37] , which is why he likes books, enjoys [28:39] talking about translation, and likes [28:41] discussing translated works. These are [28:43] all kinds of replicas. So, what does a [28:46] replica mean? A replica signifies the [28:49] subversion of and a challenge to [28:51] originality. Is there actually a real " [28:54] me" that exists? Is it possible that I [28:57] am just a replica? To put it in today's [29:01] terms, if a clone were actually created [29:02] from my genes, what difference would [29:04] there really be between me and him? His [29:07] obsession with replicas even led him to [29:09] write an immortal masterpiece. This [29:12] piece is only a dozen pages long; [29:13] everyone should take a look at it. It [29:17] is a story from one of the books in [29:19] this collection I have here, *The [29:20] Garden of Forking Paths*, and this [29:22] story is called "Pierre Menard, Author [29:24] of the Quixote." Pierre Menard. What is [29:30] this story about? It features a man who [29:33] is just like Borges. He says he had a [29:39] poet friend who passed away, and this [29:41] friend is worth commemorating; he wants [29:43] to properly recount an unfinished, [29:45] highly creative, and epic project— [29:47] what was that project like? First, he [29:54] lists the works that this poet named [29:56] Pierre Menard left behind before he [29:58] died; he provides a bibliography. There [30:02] aren't many works, but each one is [30:04] extremely bizarre. For instance, Menard [30:11] had this work where he intended to [30:13] compile a poetic dictionary, a [30:14] dictionary that would list all the [30:16] ideal worlds created for the needs of [30:18] poetry. This sounds like a very strange [30:26] essay, doesn't it? There is another [30:31] treatise discussing the possibility of [30:33] removing one piece from the game of [30:35] chess to make the entire game even [30:37] richer. Next, Menard proposes this [30:43] reform for chess, but by the end of the [30:45] essay, he denies the existence of such [30:47] a possibility. He is such a strange [30:52] writer, yet what is the strangest work [30:54] by this Pierre Menard? He wants to [30:58] write a book called*Quixote*. This book [31:01] *Quixote*is, in fact, the*Don Quixote* [31:03] written by Cervantes. He wants to [31:07] rewrite it—what does this "rewriting" [31:09] mean? Borges explains here that his [31:14] concept of "rewriting" is not the [31:16] typical time-travel trope we're [31:18] familiar with today—for instance, [31:19] dropping someone identical to Don [31:21] Quixote into modern-day Beijing and [31:23] seeing what happens. It’s not like [31:28] that; that’s too vulgar and beneath [31:30] Pierre Menard. What he intends to do is [31:36] to write out three chapters of Don [31:38] Quixote, word for word, exactly as they [31:40] are in the original. What does that [31:44] mean? Doesn't that just sound like [31:46] copying? You take those three chapters [31:49] he chose, copy them word for word, [31:51] punctuation and all—isn't that [31:52] exactly what it is? How can that be [31:55] called creative work? It’s not that [31:57] simple. Menard’s ambition is to [32:00] actually write those three chapters [32:02] himself, not by looking at the book. [32:07] His memory of Don Quixote is already [32:09] quite vague; he wants to use his own [32:11] creativity to produce text that is [32:13] identical to what Cervantes wrote 400 [32:15] years ago. How could that be possible? [32:28] There are certainly many ways, such as [32:30] pretending he knows nothing of what has [32:32] happened on Earth since the time of [32:33] Cervantes, learning the archaic Spanish [32:35] of that era, and finding ways to fight [32:37] the Turks and Moors, and even go to [32:39] prison, just like Cervantes did, to [32:49] become as much like him as possible. If [32:55] you become exactly like him, you might [32:56] have a chance to write a work identical [32:58] to his, but that is impossible. Not [33:04] only is it impossible, but Borges says [33:06] Menard even considers such an approach [33:08] too low-level. What, then, is [33:11] considered high-level? The high-level [33:19] approach is for a poet living in France [33:21] today, using his own background, life [33:23] experience, and command of language, to [33:25] inexplicably put pen to paper and [33:26] produce something identical to what [33:28] Cervantes wrote—that would be truly [33:30] brilliant. But is there any point in [33:38] writing this way? Wouldn't the result [33:41] be exactly the same as the original Don [33:43] Quixote? What is the value in that? Why [33:46] would the world need a writer to do [33:48] such a thing? It does have value. For [33:55] instance, Borges discusses how [33:56] Menard’s language is different from [33:58] Cervantes ', even if the written result [34:00] is the same—but there is still a [34:02] significant difference. What kind of [34:08] difference? Let’s read and find out. [34:15] The text of Cervantes and Menard is [34:17] completely identical. Yet the richness [34:21] and variety of the latter are almost [34:23] unreachable for the former. His [34:26] detractors might call him ambiguous, [34:28] but ambiguity is just a manifestation [34:30] of richness. Comparing Menard’s [34:35] Quixote with Cervantes’ Don Quixote [34:36] is highly enlightening. For instance, [34:42] the latter writes in Chapter 9 of Part [34:44] Two of Don Quixote: "History, the [34:46] mother of truth, rival of time, [34:48] storehouse of deeds, witness for the [34:50] past, example and adviser to the [34:52] present, and warning for the future." [34:59] This passage, written by the 17 [35:00] th-century writer Cervantes, is merely [35:03] a rhetorical eulogy to history; [35:04] conversely, what Menard wrote was: " [35:07] History, the mother of truth, rival of [35:09] time, storehouse of deeds, witness for [35:11] the past, example and adviser to the [35:13] present, and warning for the future." [35:18] History as the mother of truth—this [35:21] idea is astonishing. Menard was a [35:25] contemporary of William James, and he [35:27] defined history not as an exploration [35:29] of reality, but as its origin. To him, [35:35] the truth of history is not what has [35:37] actually happened, but what we believe [35:39] has happened. The concluding phrases, " [35:43] example and adviser to the present, and [35:45] warning for the future," are simply [35:47] blatant pragmatism. Did the passage we [35:53] just read sound completely baffling and [35:55] mind-boggling to you? But once you get [36:00] past that brief phase of being puzzled, [36:02] you’ll find it truly mind-opening. [36:06] This is a very typical characteristic [36:08] of the famous and influential short [36:10] stories from Borges’ middle period. [36:19] Returning to the text we just read, the [36:22] situation is this: Borges claims that [36:24] the Quixote written by Pierre Menard, [36:26] despite being identical—no, not just [36:29] almost, but 100%identical—to the Don [36:31] Quixote written by Cervantes, is, in [36:34] Menard's version, rich, varied, [36:36] ambiguous, and filled with complex [36:45] connotations. Now, here is the question [36:48] . Two identical pieces of text. Why is [36:53] the one written by Pierre Menard richer [36:55] and more profound than the one written [36:56] by Cervantes? He then gives this [37:02] example by placing the two texts side [37:04] by side; he says Cervantes' passage is [37:06] that of a complete layman, just a [37:08] cliché about history—what is history [37:10] ? History is the mother of truth! [37:16] Because these historical truths can [37:18] preserve the facts that have occurred [37:20] and serve as a warning for future [37:22] generations—we all say this, using [37:23] history as a mirror is something [37:25] everyone talks about. But Pierre Menard [37:28] is different. He says that history is [37:32] the mother of truth, and history serves [37:34] as a warning to those of us who come [37:36] after. The words are exactly the same, [37:40] but the meaning is vastly different. [37:43] Why? Because Pierre Menard was a [37:46] contemporary of William James. Who is [37:49] this William James? He is the father of [37:53] modern psychology, a great American [37:55] thinker and philosopher of the late [37:57] 19th century, and also a founder of the [37:59] American school of pragmatism. And he [38:04] would essentially argue, what is [38:05] history? History is not just facts that [38:10] have already occurred; history is the [38:12] facts we are capable of knowing. This [38:17] means that if we are unaware of what [38:19] happened in history, then it doesn't [38:21] count as history; it must be known by [38:22] us to be called history. The same [38:26] applies to truth in the world: that [38:28] which humans can perceive and that [38:29] which is meaningful and useful to human [38:31] life and society is what we call truth. [38:37] This is a very rudimentary explanation [38:39] of pragmatism, and he notes that Menard [38:41] , as a person of the era when [38:43] pragmatism began to gain popularity, [38:45] used a pragmatic perspective to write [38:47] that passage. This is so baffling; the [38:54] text is identical, yet simply because [38:56] this author, Menard, lived at the turn [38:58] of the 20th century, his writing of the [39:01] same passage has much more depth than [39:03] Cervantes 'original. Not only that, [39:07] Borges actually goes on to analyze the [39:09] writing styles of the two men. This is [39:12] even more perplexing. Since what he [39:15] wrote is the same as what Cervantes [39:16] wrote, how could the style possibly [39:18] change? He says it is different. [39:21] Because clearly, Menard highlights [39:22] something completely different. For the [39:27] same passage from Don Quixote, when I [39:29] know it was written by Cervantes, I [39:31] have one view; when I discover it was [39:33] written by someone from the turn of the [39:35] 20th century, I might have an entirely [39:37] different reading. This perspective and [39:44] this line of thought—you could say [39:45] that in the 1940s, Borges was already [39:47] discussing the freedom of the reader [39:49] and what it means to be a reader in [39:51] this story. A reader is someone who can [39:57] interpret any book freely and [39:58] arbitrarily; from the same book, [40:00] everyone draws a different meaning. [40:04] Conversely, does a book have any [40:06] historical necessity to speak of? This [40:10] is also a point he questions within [40:12] this story. If we say that Cervantes [40:15] writing Don Quixote was a historical [40:17] necessity, it is because there was a [40:19] person in history named Cervantes. He [40:23] went through various experiences, and [40:25] in his later years, he wrote a book [40:27] called Don Quixote. Therefore, this [40:30] book is a historical necessity. It is [40:36] inevitable and at the same time [40:38] original, making it one of a kind; it [40:40] had to be that era, four hundred years [40:42] ago in Spain, where such a mercenary, a [40:44] minor nobleman, old and sick, finally [40:46] wrote such a book. But Borges tells us [40:53] that 400 years later, or over 300 years [40:55] later, there could be another person [40:57] who writes the exact same thing. This [41:02] effectively negates the idea that the [41:04] emergence of any work has historical [41:06] necessity, and even denies the very [41:08] meaning of an "original self." As an [41:13] author, what I write is my own original [41:15] creation, but if there were someone [41:17] else in this world, someone completely [41:19] unrelated and unknown to me, who [41:21] happened to write something identical [41:22] to mine, then what originality could my [41:24] work possibly claim? This isn't even [41:30] plagiarism, imitation, or repetition; [41:32] it is truly two people writing the same [41:34] thing in different times and spaces. Of [41:41] course, one could call this a thought [41:42] experiment, but another point this [41:44] experiment makes is that if readers can [41:46] interpret a book however they choose, [41:48] and every book can be read differently, [41:50] then there is nothing inherent or [41:51] necessary about the book itself. Since [41:58] the same book appears as a different [42:00] book in the eyes of different readers, [42:02] what is the relationship between these [42:03] various interpretations and the [42:05] original book they read? Just like the [42:11] mirror analogy we started with, when [42:13] you look in the mirror, is the "me" [42:15] reflected back still me? Or is the "me" [42:19] inside the mirror the real one? Between [42:22] these two, which one is more real? [42:26] Which one of us is the copy of the [42:27] other? Borges has always been concerned [42:30] with such themes. He created many [42:37] fascinating stories based on these [42:39] themes and wrote many beautiful, [42:41] profound essays; the main question he [42:43] explores is whether there are truly any [42:45] irreplaceable, original works in this [42:47] world. At the same time, is there an [42:54] irreplaceable, unique "me" in this [42:57] world? If I can be replaced at any time [43:01] and someone else can be identical to me [43:03] , then what is the meaning of my [43:04] existence? When you think about this, [43:08] don't you feel a bit empty, or even a [43:10] little terrified? Just like the story I [43:14] told at the beginning. In many works of [43:19] fiction, the reading characters are [43:20] exactly the readers within the work, [43:22] implying that we who read these [43:24] fictional works might also be fictional [43:25] characters ourselves. The reason Borges [43:31] had this idea was that his father was [43:33] also a writer. Before he passed away, [43:36] his father entrusted a mission to his [43:38] son. I can hardly think of another [43:43] writer as closely tied to books as [43:45] Borges; of course, if you want to be a [43:47] writer, you read because you have to [43:49] write. But there is rarely any other [43:54] writer like Borges, where all the [43:56] characters in his novels......are [43:57] either writers or readers. They are [44:05] either writing a book or reading one, [44:07] either bringing a book home or on their [44:09] way to a bookstore or library; most of [44:11] the ingenuity in his work revolves [44:13] around puzzles related to books, words, [44:15] writing, and reading. In other words, [44:23] it is hard to find another writer as [44:25] bookish as Borges; there are very few [44:27] people like him. Because of this, his [44:33] works—whether essays or novels—are [44:35] always filled with numerous references [44:37] and stories about magical books you [44:39] have never even heard of. Sometimes it [44:43] is truly because he was so erudite and [44:45] knew so much, but many other times, he [44:47] was just inventing things, playing a [44:48] game of fiction. Even when writing [44:52] serious essays, reviews, or academic [44:54] papers, he would invent many things, so [44:56] you never know if what he wrote is true [44:58] or false. So, for a writer who loves [45:02] books or is surrounded by them, it’s [45:04] no wonder he said the following famous [45:06] quote. What did he say? He said that in [45:10] his mind, heaven probably looked [45:11] something like a library. Later on, [45:14] when we often talk about "bookstore [45:16] heavens" or "literary paradises," these [45:19] phrases all actually stem from this [45:21] quote by Borges. However, you must not [45:24] think that Borges truly loved libraries [45:26] as much as this quote suggests, or that [45:28] he felt libraries were heaven and [45:29] heaven was like a library; it’s not [45:31] that simple. If you look at one of his [45:37] very famous short stories, titled "The [45:39] Library of Babel"......in this story, [45:41] it is quite strange: there exists in [45:43] the world a library composed of [45:45] hexagons, one after another, extending [45:47] infinitely like a honeycomb, a vast [45:49] library expanding outward and upward [45:51] and downward. So, in such a hexagon, [45:58] four sides are lined with bookshelves, [46:00] while the other two sides are passages [46:02] leading to other hexagonal chambers; [46:04] the entire library is infinite, and no [46:06] one has ever known where its end or its [46:08] exit lies. From this perspective, you [46:16] can understand that the entire world is [46:18] covered by this library, which is the [46:20] universe itself; everyone inside is [46:22] trapped, and all the books are in [46:24] complete disarray, containing every [46:25] possible combination of Western letters [46:27] —a truly infinite library. Library. [46:34] So, having heard of such an infinite [46:36] library, do you think it sounds like a [46:38] paradise? No. In the story, we see it [46:40] as a place that would literally give [46:42] you nightmares, a truly terrifying [46:44] place. Take, for example, another short [46:47] story by Borges called "The Book of [46:49] Sand." This story mentions how, one day [46:53] at home, someone knocked on his door— [46:55] a man whose voice suggested he was from [46:57] Scotland, tall and thin, wearing a grey [46:59] coat. Looking a bit blue. And he looked [47:04] a bit weathered; why did he come to his [47:06] door? He said he was there to sell a [47:08] book, but what kind of book was it? [47:10] Ultimately, he sold this book to our [47:12] first-person narrator, Borges himself, [47:15] as he refers to himself as Borges in [47:17] the story. That book is called "The [47:20] Book of Sand." This book of sand comes [47:24] from a small village in a desert region [47:26] near the border of northern India and [47:28] Pakistan. In that small village, there [47:32] was a man from the untouchable caste. [47:34] India has a caste system, and this [47:36] untouchable was so low that if he [47:37] walked in the sun, others had to stay [47:39] far away, because if you accidentally [47:41] stepped on his shadow on the ground, [47:43] you would be cursed with bad luck. It [47:47] was such a man who sold this magical [47:49] book: a large quarto volume, [47:51] cloth-bound, with the words "Holy Book" [47:53] written on it and "Printed in Bombay" [47:55] below. So, what is so magical about [47:59] this book? It’s like this: when you [48:02] open the book, you first notice the [48:04] page numbers are strange, with the odd [48:06] and even pages unlike any others; as [48:08] you flip through, you find that page 34 [48:11] is followed by page 786, meaning the [48:13] page numbers are completely scrambled. [48:16] As he was flipping through it, Borges [48:18] noticed a clumsily drawn figure inside. [48:21] At that moment, the book seller [48:22] gloomily reminded him, "You should look [48:24] carefully, see it clearly, and remember [48:26] it." Because you will never see it [48:29] again—what does that mean? Then he [48:32] resisted flipping any further and [48:34] turned back to find that picture, but [48:35] no matter how hard he looked, he [48:37] couldn't find it. He found it very [48:40] strange; it turned out that as he [48:42] flipped through this book, the pages he [48:44] had just passed, along with all their [48:46] text and images, would never appear [48:47] again. Then he took a closer look at [48:52] this book, desperately using his thumb [48:54] to try and find the first page inside [48:56] the cover. Usually, when we look for a [49:01] book's first page, we find it, but no [49:03] matter how he squeezed this book, [49:05] infinite pages would grow between the [49:07] cover and the rest of the stack. It [49:12] turned out to be a bottomless book. So, [49:15] the seller said, this is why it's [49:17] called the "Book of Sand," like the [49:18] grains of sand in the universe— [49:20] limitless and infinite. He bought the [49:24] book for a very low price. After buying [49:27] it, he became obsessed and flipped [49:29] through it every day. Eventually, he [49:31] began to find the book terrifying. He [49:35] felt it was a very ominous book and [49:37] almost wanted to set it on fire. But he [49:42] thought, if this is an infinite book, [49:44] the smoke from burning it would also be [49:45] infinite, eventually covering the [49:47] entire earth. So, he made a decision. [49:51] Wasn't he the director of the National [49:53] Library of Argentina? He said he took [49:55] it back to the library, placed it in a [49:57] corner near the restroom on one of the [49:59] floors, tucked it away, and left it [50:01] there to be forgotten forever. After he [50:04] left his position as library director, [50:06] he never dared to step foot in that [50:07] place again for the rest of his life. [50:09] This is one of his stories. He has so [50:11] many stories like this about books. [50:13] These stories sound very fantastic and [50:15] magical, and they are easy to listen to [50:17] . If you don't pay attention to how [50:20] scholarly and full of academic [50:22] references his writing is, you might [50:23] think it's just a story a child could [50:25] hear. But if you think about it [50:28] carefully, is this really a story a [50:30] child could simply understand? [50:34] Sometimes, when he writes essays or [50:36] literary criticism, you find many [50:38] strange, fictional elements appearing [50:40] within them. Then, when he writes [50:43] novels, you feel as if he is writing [50:45] them as seriously as one would write an [50:47] essay or a thesis. For instance, there [50:51] is a short story called "On Exactitude [50:53] in Science," found in his collection of [50:56] dreams. What is this story about? It [51:01] tells the story of an ancient, remote [51:03] empire from ages long past. That [51:07] empire's greatest expertise was in [51:09] cartography. Their mapmakers were so [51:16] skilled that the entire nation devoted [51:18] itself to mapping, striving to depict [51:20] the panorama and territory of their [51:22] vast empire. Those maps, the ones they [51:28] drew, were different from the maps we [51:30] see today. They were a bit like today's [51:34] satellite imagery; they would map every [51:36] single tree on the surface, every house [51:38] , and even every roof tile on those [51:40] houses. What an incredibly detailed and [51:44] exaggerated map that was! When your map [51:47] reaches that level of precision, what [51:49] is the result? The result is as follows [51:52] . The map of a single province would [51:55] cover an entire city. Why? Because if [51:59] you draw a map of a province with such [52:01] precision, even if you scale it down, [52:03] it remains so vast when unfolded that [52:05] it covers the entire city, and the map [52:07] of the whole empire would be as large [52:09] as a province. Later, these [52:11] cartographers were not satisfied; they [52:14] felt it still wasn't enough. What would [52:16] the most remarkable map be? To create a [52:19] one-to-one map: as large as the empire [52:21] itself. What is the concept of a [52:24] one-to-one map? It means covering the [52:26] entire empire in a one-to-one scale. If [52:29] you draw a map of the People's Republic [52:31] of China, the map would be as large as [52:33] the country itself—that's what it [52:34] means. They actually managed to create [52:37] such a map. Unfortunately, once this [52:41] map was made, it was completely useless [52:43] . Why? On a one-to-one map, if I want [52:49] to see which turn to take ahead, or [52:51] where to turn left after going a [52:53] kilometer...I would have to travel 10 [52:54] kilometers on this one-to-one map just [52:56] to see what the turn ahead looks like. [53:01] How do you use this map? How do you [53:03] hold it, store it, or roll it up? [53:05] What’s fascinating is that this story [53:07] later sparked countless scholars to [53:09] discuss it. Do you remember when I [53:10] mentioned Umberto Eco, the author of " [53:12] The Name of the Rose"? He wrote an [53:14] essay discussing this very issue: how [53:16] is it possible to draw a one-to-one map [53:18] ? If we were to draw a one-to-one map, [53:20] it would be impossible. Think about why [53:22] it is impossible. It is logically [53:24] unachievable. If I want to draw a [53:26] one-to-one scale map, I must first [53:28] project it onto another layer to cover [53:30] and trace it. But where would that [53:32] place be? And how would one draw it? [53:34] Regardless, Borges eventually wrote it [53:36] this way. He said that this useless map [53:39] was eventually forgotten by people. It [53:43] became something like ruins, which [53:45] people irreverently abandoned to the [53:46] ravages of the scorching sun and harsh [53:48] winter. In the deserts of the West, [53:53] tattered fragments of this map still [53:55] remain, serving as dwellings for beasts [53:57] and beggars. Of course, these various [54:03] stories are not as fascinating as the [54:05] one I am about to tell you, which seems [54:07] somewhat related to the story of the [54:09] map we just discussed. What do you [54:13] think is the lesson this map teaches us [54:15] ? The lesson is that if you truly want [54:19] to present the world with complete and [54:21] exhaustive detail—for instance, if we [54:23] are filming something and want to show [54:24] the whole Earth in a [54:25] one-hundred-percent realistic way— [54:27] what does a one-hundred-percent [54:29] realistic presentation really mean? [54:32] Must it be the same size as the [54:33] original? Do you have to build the [54:35] house exactly as it is and draw it on [54:37] the map? Is that even possible? Does it [54:39] have any meaning? He is exploring [54:41] questions like these. So, in the next [54:45] story, he presents us with another [54:47] challenge, a story called "Funes the [54:49] Memorious." One day, when our author [54:54] returned to his old hometown in the [54:56] countryside for a vacation, he met a [54:58] man named Funes. This man, Ireneo Funes [55:03] , once fell off a horse he was riding [55:05] and became paralyzed from that point on [55:07] . Then, a magical change occurred in [55:11] him. What was this change? Before he [55:15] fell from the horse and before this [55:16] accident happened, he was a person who [55:18] couldn't remember anything, but he had [55:20] an extraordinary sense of time. You [55:22] could ask him the time anywhere on the [55:23] street, and without looking at a watch, [55:25] he would say it's 8:42. It was magical; [55:27] no one knew how, so they just treated [55:29] him like a fool. But ever since he fell [55:32] and became paralyzed, he became a very, [55:34] very special person. What kind of [55:38] special person did he become? This man [55:40] had an incredible memory. To what [55:44] extent? Let's read a little. At a [55:53] single glance, we can see three wine [55:55] glasses placed on the table. Funes, [55:59] however, could see every branch of a [56:01] grapevine, the clusters of fruit, and [56:03] every individual grape. He remembered [56:07] the shape of the clouds at dawn on [56:09] April 30, 1882. And he would compare [56:16] them in his memory to the grain of a [56:18] leather-bound book he had seen only [56:20] once, or to the pattern of foam on an [56:22] oar before the Quebracho uprising; [56:24] these were not mere memories, as every [56:26] visual image was linked to sensations [56:27] of muscle, cold, and heat. He could [56:34] reconstruct all his dreams, and he once [56:36] reconstructed an entire day, never once [56:38] becoming vague, though it took him a [56:40] full day to do so. He told me, "My [56:44] memory is like a garbage heap [56:45] containing the sum of all human memory [56:47] since the beginning of time." He also [56:50] added, "When I sleep, it is just like [56:52] when you are awake." At daybreak, he [56:55] said, "My memory is like a garbage heap [56:57] ." While we can clearly perceive images [57:05] like a circle on a blackboard, a right [57:07] triangle, or a rhombus, Irenaeus could [57:09] perceive the flowing mane of a [57:11] galloping horse, its rising hind legs, [57:13] the ever-changing flames and countless [57:15] cinders, and every face he had seen [57:17] over a long period. I do not know what [57:24] he saw in the sky. You...think...think [57:30] about this man, Funes; he is different [57:32] from the rest of us, not just in that [57:34] his memory is exceptionally good. We [57:39] often think that having a good memory [57:41] is a good thing, but the question is, [57:43] how good is too good? Have you ever [57:45] heard such a claim? Sometimes, when we [57:48] undergo psychological therapy, like [57:49] hypnosis, a memory of something from a [57:52] long time ago that we had long [57:53] forgotten can be recovered. It can be [57:55] brought back. In fact, many have [58:00] studied this and pointed out that most [58:01] of what we have experienced or heard, [58:03] we haven't actually forgotten; it [58:05] hasn't left us, but remains in our [58:07] storage, and we only think we have [58:08] forgotten it because it hasn't been [58:10] recalled. And so we might feel, oh, [58:15] isn't it a pity? If I could remember [58:19] everything that happened in the past, [58:20] that would be great, but if you [58:22] actually remembered everything you had [58:24] ever experienced, have you thought [58:25] about what your brain would be like, [58:27] what kind of mind that would be—it [58:28] would be a very chaotic mind. The [58:33] reason people can remain clear-headed, [58:35] the reason people can draw lessons and [58:37] principles from past experiences, and [58:39] the reason we are able to know things, [58:41] is precisely because we are able to [58:43] forget. We often overlook the role of [58:46] forgetting and focus only on the side [58:48] of remembering. What is the [58:49] relationship between forgetting and [58:51] memory like? It's like when a tree [58:53] grows too densely in a forest; we must [58:55] prune it. Forgetting is that pair of [58:58] shears, trimming away the excess [59:00] branches. Otherwise, what would happen? [59:03] The tree might not be able to bear the [59:05] weight and collapse entirely; when a [59:07] storm hits, it would certainly be blown [59:09] down.