The Labyrinth of Human Culture

One wonders whether the construction of labyrinths is a purely human phenomenon. In Borges’s short story “The Immortal”, the jaded Roman soldier, Marcus Flaminius Rufus, goes in quest of the City of the Immortals and the river that purifies men of death. When he finds a vast and disorderly labyrinth, he concludes that the gods who built the city must have been mad. The denizens of immortality turn out to be a race of sullen, speechless men, who live in sand dunes and eat the flesh of serpents. Among them Marcus encounters Homer, whom he calls Argus – the name of Odysseus’ dog – initially unaware of his companion’s true identity. It is the poignant irony of the story that the culmination of human culture in the form of the “perfect” city denotes a regression to the animal state. Homer can scarcely remember having written the Odyssey. A sense of withdrawal, of relentless apathy, hangs around him and all the other immortals.

So the immortals have abandoned their labyrinth-city. Perhaps - now this is reading beyond the story - they realised the futility of striving to translate experiences of ultimate reality into the imperfect gestures of human culture (Borges had already suggested a similar idea in “Library of Babylon”). If there is a centre to the labyrinth of human culture, it must surely be a place without concepts.

Like the dream of a mute,
Expressions of ultimate reality
Cannot be communicated.

Thus we create labyrinths,
In search of the Perfect
Word that cannot be translated.

Reaching the centre requires
Letting go of concepts.

Concepts are human inventions.
Existence doesn’t deal with them.
Only humans do.

The labyrinth of signals stands
On the foothill of a greater mountain.

A river hisses in the darkness.
No other sound.
Fogs are rolling in across the golden marsh.