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Labyrinths: Navigating Labyrinths, Strange Loops, and the Self in Borges, Hofstadter, and The Boy and the Heron

7/1/2025

 
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Preface

I recently watched a lecture given by Steven Snider for Aeon Byte Gnostic Radio on the idea of the “Oubliette” called Escape the Transdimensional Archon Maze. This lecture was amazing as I myself have had many dreams of a cavern-like labyrinth since I was young. I have always been intrigued with this dreaming space and have written poetry about travels through it and to other connected spaces. Funnily enough I also see a connection with this lecture and the Studio Ghibli movie called The Boy and The Heron and the book Piranei by Susanna Clarke. I have had dreams which were eerily similar to the landscapes depicted in the animated movie and book. I wonder if both somehow are realms or landscapes within a collective unconscious or astral-mental sphere? Could they be maps of purgatory or The Space Between where Time exists transposed itself?
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The human mind is perpetually drawn to patterns that defy simple explanation. These phenomena that seem to fold back on themselves, creating endless, perplexing cycles. This inherent fascination with the recursive and the paradoxical forms the bedrock of profound intellectual and artistic inquiry. From the intricate literary mazes of Jorge Luis Borges to Douglas R. Hofstadter's groundbreaking "strange loop" theory, and culminating in the breathtaking cinematic journey of Studio Ghibli's The Boy and the Heron and the book Piranesi by Susanna Clarke we find a shared exploration of reality, consciousness, and the elusive nature of the self. These seemingly disparate realms of literature, cognitive science, and animation converge to illuminate how our existence is defined by recursive journeys through perceived labyrinths, where reality, meaning, and identity emerge from the acceptance of life's inherent complexities.
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Jorge Luis Borges: Architect of Infinite Labyrinths and the Burden of Eternity

Jorge Luis Borges (1899-1986) stands as a towering figure in 20th-century literature, an Argentine writer, essayist, and poet whose profound influence extends across speculative fiction, magical realism, and philosophical literature. His works are celebrated for their intricate, multi-layered narratives, intellectual rigor, and a unique ability to blur the boundaries between reality and fiction. Central to Borges' literary universe are recurring motifs such as labyrinths, the fluidity of Time, the elusive nature of reality, the power of dreams, and profound metaphysical ideas.   

Borges' narratives are replete with labyrinths, both literal and metaphorical, which serve as intricate representations of the universe's incomprehensible vastness and inherent chaos. In "The Library of Babel," the reader encounters a colossal, imaginary library composed of identical hexagonal rooms, housing an effectively infinite number of books. Its physical structure, with spiral staircases extending seemingly into infinity, functions as a literal labyrinth. However, its deeper significance lies in its symbolism of the overwhelming complexity and inherent chaos of knowledge itself. The sheer volume of information paradoxically renders meaning elusive, suggesting that human attempts to categorize and find ultimate truth in a chaotic universe are inherently limited and perhaps futile.   
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"The Garden of Forking Paths" stands as a groundbreaking work of speculative fiction, challenging traditional linear notions of time and reality by exploring a multiverse concept. The labyrinth here is explicitly not a physical structure, but a symbolic representation of the intricate, non-linear paths of time and diverging timelines. Every human decision is depicted as spawning new branches, with all possible outcomes and futures coexisting simultaneously within this complex temporal web. This articulation of diverging timelines, where "every path exists simultaneously," remarkably predates and parallels modern scientific theories, effectively framing the universe itself as a "quantum labyrinth." ​
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Time as a Labyrinth of Forking Paths: Underlying Synchronicities

"The Garden of Forking Paths" explicitly and intricately links the concept of the labyrinth to the nature of Time itself. It is described not as a static physical maze, but as a "maze of mazes, of a sinuous, ever growing maze which would take in both past and future and would somehow involve the stars". This "web of time"  is a dynamic structure that "embraces every possibility," where individual paths "bifurcate, intersect, or ignore each other through the centuries". Borges' innovative conception of time in this story is not absolute or uniform, but rather a series of diverging and converging paths, fundamentally challenging conventional linear notions of temporal progression. The labyrinth, in this context, becomes a powerful metaphor for the choices made in life. Each fork represents a different decision, leading to a different outcome, with the crucial philosophical implication that all these potential futures are happening concurrently or exist simultaneously within the vast temporal labyrinth.

While "The Garden of Forking Paths" vividly illustrates infinite possibilities and the impact of individual choices , the profound implication that all futures exist simultaneously introduces a deep philosophical paradox. If every possible outcome, every divergent path, already exists in this vast temporal labyrinth, does human choice truly exert agency, or is it merely an illusion within a predetermined, albeit multi-faceted, reality? The statement that "the future was already decided when he chose him out of the phone book"  hints at a form of soft determinism or even predestinationoperating within this multiverse. This forces the reader to grapple with the complex relationship between free will and destiny in a universe where all potential paths are already laid out within an intricate, pre-existing temporal structure. The concept of "forking paths" inherently implies active choice and agency, yet the simultaneous existence of "all futures"  suggests a lack of genuine consequence for one's actions, as any outcome "would've happened anyway in one future or another." This tension between free will and determinism is a core philosophical inquiry that Borges masterfully embeds within his narrative structure.

In "The House of Asterion," Borges offers a unique reinterpretation of the classic Minotaur myth, presenting Asterion's house as a labyrinth that transcends mere physical confinement. It functions as a "psychic space of memory" and a potent metaphor for the entirety of human existence and the universe itself. The house's boundless and disorienting nature, with its "no doors or furniture, diverging basement hallways, ashen stone galleries, and identical rooms that are also ceaselessly duplicated," makes it Asterion's entire known universe. The Minotaur's self-delusional attempts to find purpose in this isolated existence highlight how humans, confined within their subjective experiences, often construct elaborate internal frameworks of meaning to cope with profound loneliness.   

The labyrinth also manifests as a mental construct. In "The Circular Ruins," a wizard endeavors to dream a man into existence, only to discover, with relief and terror, that he himself is merely a product of someone else's dream. This narrative powerfully blurs the line between reality and illusion, suggesting that reality itself is profoundly fragile and that the self is a constructed, potentially dreamt, or illusory entity. The "circular ruins" can be interpreted as a mental labyrinth, trapping the individual within a self-generated, cyclical world. Similarly,   

"Funes the Memorious" presents a protagonist cursed with an "amazing memory" that enables him to recall every single detail of his life. This ability becomes a profound burden, overwhelming him with an infinite stream of unfiltered sensory data and leading to a significant "loss of identity." His mind transforms into a labyrinth of ceaseless, undifferentiated details, where "to think is to forget differences, generalize, make abstractions," indicating that an excess of memory can paradoxically impede higher-order thought and the formation of a coherent self.   

These literary labyrinths find visual parallels in the "impossible prisons" of Giovanni Battista Piranesi and the "impossible constructions" of M.C. Escher. Piranesi's Carceri d'Invenzione etchings depict vast, complex, and disorienting architectural spaces, visual metaphors for a never-ending consciousness facing insurmountable obstacles. Escher, a "visual philosopher," crafted "impossible worlds" that defy conventional spatial logic, exploring infinity, recursion, and symmetry through works like Drawing Hands and Waterfall. These artistic endeavors, like Borges's narratives, challenge our perception of reality, aligning with the understanding that perception is a constructive process of the brain, not a direct reflection of objective reality.  
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Beyond physical and mental mazes, Borges's writing style itself is labyrinthine. His stories are "complex, intertwining, and it's easy to get lost within them," mirroring the very definition of a labyrinth. He employs non-linear plots, multiple perspectives, and unreliable narrators, creating a disorienting reading experience. His use of metafiction, which highlights the fictionality of his own stories, and intertextuality, where allusions to external texts form structural meaning, transforms his works into sophisticated "intellectual puzzles." By constructing his narratives as textual labyrinths, Borges actively implicates the reader in the interpretive process, making the act of reading an active "expedition" into meaning.   

Borges's exploration of immortality is equally profound, often presented as a curse rather than a blessing. In "The Immortal,"Marcus Flaminius Rufus attains eternal life, only to find it leads to the dissolution of individual identity, the erosion of memory, and the ultimate loss of existential meaning. Borges famously states, "To be immortal is commonplace; except for man, all creatures are immortal, for they know nothing of death. What is divine, terrible and incomprehensible is to know that one is immortal." This highlights the unique burden human consciousness faces with endless existence, leading to a "bleak immortal world" of "extreme quietism" and apathy. The regression of the "troglodytes" in the story, once human but now "devoid of speech and civilization," serves as a powerful counter-narrative to the modern conception of progress, suggesting that endless time can lead to a profound loss of humanity and selfhood.   

"The Aleph" is a masterful exploration of infinity, describing a singular point in space that miraculously contains all other points, allowing the observer to see "everything in the universe from every angle simultaneously." This "mystical point in space and time" reveals the "profound interconnectedness of all things." Despite its seemingly divine nature, the narrator's experience of witnessing the "unfathomable infinite" is depicted as deeply "terrifying," leading to a "hopelessness" in attempting to articulate it. The human mind, Borges suggests, is fundamentally "unable to or even impossibly comprehend" this infinite region, highlighting the inherent limitations of human cognition when faced with absolute totality.   

The "Oubliette" motif, found in art, literature, and psychology (e.g., Piranesi's impossible prisons), further illustrates the unsettling aspects of infinite recursion. An oubliette, a hidden dungeon with a single opening from above, is a place where one is "forgotten". It represents a "recurring labyrinthine motif" and a "dark mirror of the human psyche," exploring the subconscious and infinite reality. The inherent nature of an oubliette as a trap from which escape is difficult, often leading back to the original confinement, directly mirrors the cyclical and inescapable nature of a strange loop. The disorienting and sometimes terrifying aspects of infinite or paradoxical structures, as seen in Borges's "The Library of Babel" (where overwhelming knowledge leads to meaninglessness) or the Oubliette, highlight that while strange loops are fundamental, their full implications can be psychologically challenging, pushing the boundaries of human cognitive capacity.

Ultimately, Borges argues that mortality is a defining human condition. "Death (or its allusion) makes men precious and pathetic. They are moving because of their phantom condition; every act they execute may be their last; there is not a face that is not on the verge of dissolving like a face in a dream. Everything among the mortals has the value of the irretrievable and the perilous." Finitude imbues human existence with urgency, beauty, and profound significance, providing the necessary framework for personal history, a coherent self, and narrative progression.   ​
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Douglas Hofstadter: The Strange Loop of Consciousness and Cognition

The intellectual puzzles and recursive patterns in Borges's work find a compelling theoretical parallel in Douglas R. Hofstadter's concept of the "strange loop." Introduced in his Pulitzer Prize-winning Gödel, Escher, Bach: An Eternal Golden Braid, a strange loop describes a system that, by referencing itself across various hierarchical levels, appears to rise into existence from its own underlying architecture. It is a paradoxical structure where a journey through ascending or descending levels unexpectedly leads back to the point of origin, creating a sense of both familiarity and profound disorientation.

At its core, a strange loop is a cyclic structure embedded within a hierarchical system where, by traversing the levels, one invariably returns to the precise starting point. The "strangeness" arises from the brain's perceptual processes, as it attempts to grasp the "essence" of a pattern, paradoxically delving deeper into its strange loop. This creates an "illusion of progress," where one perceives a continuous departure from the origin, only to find oneself exactly where the journey began. Unlike simple feedback loops, strange loops are distinguished by their "level-crossing feedback," where the act of observation or interaction alters one's position within the hierarchy.

Hofstadter's Gödel, Escher, Bach serves as a grand exposition of this theory, using the seemingly disparate domains of mathematics, art, and music as allegorical and concrete illustrations. The book explores how cognition and meaning emerge from underlying, often "meaningless," mechanisms through processes of self-reference and formal rules. A key conceptual tool is "isomorphism," which allows for the mapping of two complex structures onto each other, revealing that corresponding parts play similar roles in their respective systems.   

The strange loop theory finds compelling manifestations across these disciplines:
  • Mathematics: Gödel's Incompleteness Theoremdemonstrates that "formal mathematics itself contains a self-referential strangeloop." It reveals that within any sufficiently complex formal system, there will always be true statements that cannot be proven within that system. This establishes inherent limitations to what can be known or formalized from within a given system, directly paralleling the classic "Liar Paradox" ("This statement is false").   
  • Art: M.C. Escher's Visual Paradoxes are quintessential strange loops rendered visually. Works like Drawing Hands, where two hands are depicted drawing each other, or Waterfall, which portrays water flowing uphill, create "visual puzzles that captivate and challenge perception." Escher's art actively invites the viewer to experience these loops, challenging the human "perception of reality" and often evoking a sense of the "uncanny" by presenting recognizable elements in self-referential and paradoxical configurations.   
  • Music: Bach's Canons and the Shepard Tone provide auditory examples. The Shepard Tone, created by superimposing tones separated by octaves, produces the illusion of a sound that "continually ascends or descends in pitch, yet which ultimately seems to get no higher or lower." This exemplifies how recursive patterns can trick our perception, reinforcing that the "strangeness" of a strange loop is often a product of our brain's processing and interpretation.   

Perhaps the most profound application of strange loop theory lies in Hofstadter's explanation of human consciousness. He posits that "human consciousness" and the "self" are not pre-existing entities but rather "emerge from complex self-referential loops in the brain." The "ego emerges only gradually as experience shapes the brain's dense web of active symbols into a tapestry rich and complex enough to begin twisting back upon itself." The psychological "I" is thus conceptualized as a "narrative fiction," a construct generated by the brain's processing of symbolic data and its inherent capacity to create stories about itself. This perspective suggests that if identity and subjectivity are fundamentally patterns, they could potentially be replicated in other biological brains or even in artificial intelligence.   ​
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The Boy and the Heron: A Cinematic Labyrinth of Grief and Self-Discovery

Following our deep dive into Jorge Luis Borges's labyrinthine worlds and his profound meditations on reality and immortality, and our exploration of Douglas R. Hofstadter's "strange loop" theory, we now turn to a cinematic masterpiece that beautifully intertwines these very concepts: Studio Ghibli's The Boy and the Heron. This animated film follows Mahito Maki, a young boy grappling with the devastating loss of his mother during World War II, who is drawn into a fantastical, otherworldly labyrinthine tower by a talking grey heron. This tower, and the surreal realm it contains, functions as a quintessential Borgesian labyrinth, a physical space that is simultaneously a metaphysical journey, blurring the lines between reality and illusion, and compelling Mahito on a quest for truth and self-discovery.   

Mahito's journey through this fantastical world mirrors Borges's literary labyrinths in striking ways. The tower itself is not merely a structure but a gateway to multiple, often contradictory, realities, much like the infinite, disorienting Library of Babel or the temporal complexities of "The Garden of Forking Paths." Within this realm, Mahito encounters figures from his past, including a younger version of his mother (Himi) and his great-granduncle, who attempts to maintain this world using a precarious stack of stone blocks. This "anti-home" is a space of absence and disorientation, where the familiar becomes uncanny, directly echoing the psychological labyrinths found in Borges's "The Circular Ruins" or "The House of Asterion," where characters confront the fluidity of reality and the constructed nature of the self. Mahito's internal struggle with grief and his reluctance to accept his new reality are externalized through his navigation of this fantastical maze, forcing him to confront hidden truths about himself and his relationships.
   
This intricate, self-contained world also resonates deeply with Hofstadter's strange loop theory. The great-granduncle's attempt to build and maintain a "perfect world" using stacked blocks, representing its very dimension, can be seen as a system trying to define and sustain itself through recursive rules. However, Mahito's ultimate refusal to inherit this role, acknowledging his own "malice" (or inherent imperfection), leads to the collapse of this seemingly ideal system, forcing a return to the "real" world. This mirrors Hofstadter's concept of consciousness as an emergent strange loop, where the "self" arises from complex, recursive brain activity, and the acceptance of inherent imperfections is crucial for navigating reality. It's a journey that, despite feeling like a continuous departure, ultimately brings one back to a transformed understanding of the origin.   
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Furthermore, the fantastical landscapes of The Boy and the Heron can be interpreted as a vivid manifestation of dream or purgatory landscapes, functioning as an astral realm or collective unconscious. Borges frequently explored the blurring of dreams and waking reality, as seen in "The Circular Ruins," where a dreamt reality proves to be the ultimate truth. In the film, the tower's world is not merely a fantasy but a space where deep psychological and spiritual work occurs, reflecting a collective unconscious where souls (the Warawara) are reborn, and individuals from different timelines (young Himi) coexist. The Heron, acting as a guide, and the great-granduncle, as a creator figure, can be seen as archetypal representations from this collective realm, guiding Mahito through his personal and universal journey. The film's stunning visual splendor and surreal elements contribute to this dream-like quality, making the "other world" feel like a direct manifestation of the subconscious or a shared spiritual dimension, where Mahito confronts his inner turmoil and ultimately chooses to embrace the imperfect beauty of his own reality.   ​
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The One Who Stands at the Threshold: Borges's Liminal Figures

Beyond the sprawling labyrinths and the paradoxical nature of immortality, Borges frequently explores the concept of the "threshold", a liminal space that exists as a "crossing over" point, where one has left something behind but is not yet fully in something else; a transition, an in-between space. This motif is not merely architectural but profoundly psychological and philosophical, representing moments of profound ambiguity, transformation, and confrontation with the unknown or the repressed.

Borges's characters, and even his narrators, often find themselves at such thresholds, poised on the edge of different realities or states of being. In "The Man on the Threshold," the very title signals this theme, as the story features an old man who stands at a literal threshold, recounting a tale that blurs the lines of reality. This narrative device places the reader, alongside the narrator, at a point of uncertainty, where the familiar gives way to the uncanny.   

The "uncanny" (German: unheimlich), a concept explored by Freud, is central to Borges's depiction of these liminal spaces. It describes the unsettling feeling produced when something "secretly familiar" that has been repressed returns to light, blurring the boundary between fantasy and reality. Borges's portrayal of the "infinite and imprecise texture of time," his "bizarre labyrinths," and the "oneiric, nightmarish experience of individual moments of conflict" all contribute to this uncanny sensation, leaving the reader with an "unresolved hesitation between the supernatural explanation available and the natural or psychological explanation offered".   

Characters in Borges's works often stand at the "border of irrationality," their experiences teetering on the edge of what is conventionally understood as real. The house in "The House of Asterion," for instance, is a labyrinthine "anti-home" that is physically larger on the inside than the outside, a space of absence and disorientation that challenges the very notion of a secure dwelling. This impossible architecture serves as a threshold to a psychological realm, where Asterion confronts his isolated existence and constructs his own meaning. Similarly, in "The Circular Ruins,"the wizard's act of dreaming a man into existence, only to discover his own dreamt reality, places him at a profound existential threshold, where the self is revealed to be a fragile, constructed entity.
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These figures at the threshold embody Borges's broader philosophical inquiries into the nature of reality and identity. They are often confronted with the limits of human knowledge and the inherent ambiguity of existence, forcing them (and the reader) to question what is truly tangible. The "liminal space" in Borges's narratives is thus a powerful metaphor for the human condition itself as a state of perpetual transition, where the past, present, and future, and the real and the imagined, constantly interweave, challenging any fixed sense of self or reality.
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The Infinite Labyrinth: A Literary Analysis of Susanna Clarke's Piranesi

A World of Wonder and Mystery

Susanna Clarke's Piranesi immediately draws readers into a captivating and mystifying parallel universe known simply as the House. This boundless realm, characterized by infinite halls, vestibules lined with countless statues, and an immense ocean whose tides surge through its lower chambers, defies conventional logic and establishes an otherworldly tone from the outset. The narrative introduces Piranesi, the seemingly sole inhabitant, whose profound sense of purpose and belonging within this strange world serves as the initial anchor for the reader. From its opening pages, the book establishes itself as a compelling blend of fantasy, mystery, and philosophical fiction, promising a journey that is as much about external exploration as it is about internal discovery.   
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The novel's opening is deliberately disorienting, as the reader, much like Piranesi himself, is initially unsure of the protagonist's identity or the true nature of his existence within the House. This stylistic choice, employing a first-person, journal-entry format, compels the reader to learn information only as Piranesi learns it, creating an exciting anticipation and deep immersion in the unfolding mystery. This gradual revelation of the plot and the truth behind Piranesi's world is a clever technique that transforms initial strangeness into the most intriguing aspect of the book. The narrative structure, which initially presents a disorienting reality, forces the reader to experience the world through Piranesi's fragmented understanding. This mirrors Piranesi's own struggle with a gradual loss of memory and identity, which newcomers to the House experience. The reader's initial confusion and slow dawning of comprehension thus create a deep empathetic connection with Piranesi's quest to reconstruct his own identity and the reality of his surroundings. This shared journey of discovery transforms the reading experience into an active participation in the process of sense-making, where the reader grapples with the nature of perception and knowledge alongside the protagonist.   ​
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The House: Setting as Character and Symbol  

A central concept to understanding the House is "liminality". It is a place that evokes an "uncanny nostalgia," feeling simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar, recognizable yet subtly incomplete. This characteristic transforms the House into a crucible for identity, where the self is challenged and redefined. The House is not merely a passive setting; it functions as an active, almost sentient entity that precipitates profound psychological and existential transformationin its inhabitants. Its liminality is not just an aesthetic quality but a functional mechanism for the dissolution and subsequent reformation of identity. This suggests a philosophical inquiry into how environments, particularly those imbued with a spiritual or conceptual dimension, can fundamentally alter human consciousness and selfhood, positioning the House as a central force in Piranesi's internal journey.   

The countless statues that populate the House are more than just architectural features; they are integral to its liminal quality and Piranesi's experience. Many depict people, creating an uncannyatmosphere of isolation, the "shapes of people are there, shadows of society, but Piranesi remains alone". Yet, for Piranesi, these statues become companions, "gifts of the House," and objects of reverent study, providing him with a unique sense of connection in his profound solitude. The tides, too, are not just natural phenomena but are perceived by Piranesi with wonder and awe, becoming "gifts of the House" that he meticulously tracks. They represent a perpetual rhythm, a constant, vital force within his world. Piranesi lives in extreme solitude, with only one other human, the Other, whose presence is infrequent. Despite this isolation, Piranesi forms deep connections with the non-human elements, particularly the statues, treating them as "friends, allies, and confidants". This suggests that the novel redefines the very concept of "companionship" and "connection" in the face of profound human isolation. 

The Prophet introduces the idea of the House as a "distributary world," formed by ideas flowing out of another world.This suggests a deeper, almost conceptual nature to its existence, challenging a purely physical understanding. Some interpretations even suggest the House is "God-like," a place of "deep wisdom" that can be understood through a child-like perspective, contrasting with the Other's intellectual pursuit. Ultimately, the House functions as a powerful metaphor for the mind itself as a labyrinthine interior capable of "infinite creativity and imagination," but also susceptible to confinement and isolation.   ​
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Piranesi's Journey: Memory, Identity, and Perception

The novel's most brilliant technique is its formatting: a first-person perspective told through Piranesi's daily journal entries. This intimate narrative choice allows the reader to experience the unfolding mystery and Piranesi's evolving understanding of his world and self in real-time. This structure ensures that the reader is "thoroughly caught up in the story" by observing clues Piranesi initially misses, generating a palpable "agony of suspense". Clarke's choice of the epistolary format is not merely a stylistic flourish but a crucial psychological device. It creates a unique form of dramatic irony, where the reader is privy to subtle inconsistencies and foreshadowing that Piranesi, due to his memory loss and isolation-induced naivety, cannot immediately grasp. This dynamic compels the reader into an active, almost protective role, fostering a powerful sense of investment and suspense as they anticipate Piranesi's eventual realization of the truth, making his journey of self-discovery a shared, agonizing experience. This technique amplifies the themes of perception and the subjective nature of reality.   

At the outset, Piranesi possesses a clear sense of identity, believing he has "always lived in the House" and that his mission is to explore it as a "Beloved Child of the House". He approaches his world with "wonder and awe," regarding its features as "Gifts of the House". He is portrayed as intelligent and compassionate, yet also "naïve and child-like" in his trust of the Other.  
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The arrival of the Other, and later the mysterious "16" (Sarah Raphael), introduces a mystery that slowly unravels Piranesi's perceived reality and his own identity. This unraveling is a "deep dive into the layers of memory, identity, and the human psyche". Piranesi's journey involves piecing together destroyed journal pages and messages, leading to the shocking discovery that he is Matthew Rose Sorensen, a journalist kidnapped and imprisoned in the House by Ketterley (the Other), where he slowly lost his memory and constructed a new identity. His confrontation with Ketterley, armed with his reclaimed memories, marks the climax of his personal journey.   ​

Thematic Explorations

Humanity and Connection

Piranesi forms deep connections with the non-human elements of his world, including birds, tides, statues, halls, and skeletons. These entities serve as his companions, allies, and confidants, often more so than the sole other human, the Other. This highlights a unique form of companionship found in an "inhuman world". This suggests that the novel redefines the very concept of companionship and deep connection within these strange landscapes. Piranesi's ability to find profound meaning and relationship with the non-human elements and spirits of the House is a direct consequence of his solitude. 
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Science and the Pursuit of Knowledge

The novel presents two contrasting visions of science and knowledge through Piranesi and the Other. Piranesi's approach is one of reverence, meticulous observation, and deep connection to his environment, akin to "ancient wisdom" that understands the world personally. He seeks to understand the House's language. In stark contrast, the Other (Ketterley), a former student of the occultist Laurence Arne-Sayles, is obsessed with finding a "Great and Secret Knowledge" for power, willing to sacrifice others in its pursuit, even resorting to occult practices. The novel explicitly contrasts Piranesi's "respecting his environment" and personally understanding knowledge with the Other's obsession with "arcane and hidden knowledge" and willingness to sacrifice others. The House itself is described as "God-like" and requiring a "child-like" understanding. This signifies that Piranesi is not just about the nature of knowledge, but about the ethics of its pursuit and its ultimate purpose. The stark contrast between Piranesi's humble, reverent, and ethical approach to understanding the House and the Other's manipulative, power-driven, and unethical quest for Great and Secret Knowledge establishes a clear moral framework for epistemology. This demonstrates a causal relationship: the intent and method of seeking knowledge directly determine its ethical outcome and its capacity for good or harm. The novel implicitly argues that true wisdom, as embodied by Piranesi's understanding of the House, arises from humility and respect, while unchecked ambition, as seen in the Other, leads inevitably to betrayal and destruction of the very knowledge he seeks to find.
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Literary and Philosophical Allusions

Plato's Allegory of the Cave

Piranesi draws strong parallels to Plato's allegory of the cave. Piranesi is confined to a world of statues, initially ignorant of a greater reality beyond his perceived confines, much like Plato's prisoners who see only shadows. His journey of discovering his true identity and the nature of the House mirrors the prisoner's escape from the cave and encounter with true reality. The explicit comparison to Plato's Cave positions Piranesi's world as a limited, constructed reality. Piranesi's memory loss and the House's identity(ego)-stripping nature mean he believes his confined existence is the entirety of reality. This Platonic allusion elevates the novel beyond a simple fantasy, making it a profound philosophical commentary on the nature of reality, perception, and knowledge. The House becomes a modern "cave" that creates a subjective, limited reality for Piranesi, highlighting how easily one can be confined by one's own perceptions or by external manipulation. His eventual escape is not just a physical one but an epistemological liberation, suggesting that true understanding requires challenging one's deepest assumptions about reality, a process that can be both deeply disorienting and liberating.   ​
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Jorge Luis Borges's Short Stories

Piranesi draws parallels to Borges's "The Library of Babel," with its infinite rooms and books, and "The House of Asterion," which offers the Minotaur's perspective within a labyrinth. Borges's influence, particularly "The Library of Babel," speaks to infinite spaces and the overwhelming nature of knowledge. "The House of Asterion" offers a labyrinth from the perspective of its isolated inhabitant. The Borges allusions reinforce the novel's core themes of overwhelming knowledge, the subjective experience of confinement, and the search for meaning within an impossibly vast system. The "infinite" nature of the House, like Borges's library, suggests that true knowledge is perhaps unattainable in its entirety, and that the act of cataloging, Piranesi's central mission, is a human attempt to impose order on an inherently chaotic or boundless reality. This connection deepens the philosophical inquiry into epistemology and the human condition within incomprehensible systems.   
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Giovanni Battista Piranesi's Carceri d'invenzione

Clarke was inspired by the 18th-century artist Giovanni Battista Piranesi's etchings, Carceri d'invenzione (Imaginary Prisons), which depict huge underground vaults with disappearing staircases and massive machines. The direct inspiration from Piranesi's "Imaginary Prisons" is not just visual but conceptual. These etchings portray impossible, overwhelming architectural spaces. The visual inspiration from the Carceri etchings transforms the House into more than just a physical setting; it becomes a conceptual prison. This connection suggests that the House is less a literal place and more a manifestation of a psychological or existential state of confinement. The "imaginary" aspect of the prisons implies that the boundaries of Piranesi's world, and by extension our own, might be more fluid and constructed than they appear, deepening the novel's exploration of perception and reality.
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Reflecting on the Labyrinth Within

Piranesi stands as a testament to Susanna Clarke's imaginative prowess and her ability to craft worlds that are both intellectually engaging and emotionally resonant. It is a haunting exploration of the mind's capacity for wonder and curiosity in the face of a journey into the true unknown. The novel challenges readers to consider the walls we build around our perceptions of reality and the endless possibilities and knowledge that lie beyond them. It dares individuals to "see Beauty in the ordinary" and confronts them with questions about what to do when their deepest assumptions are proven wrong.   
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Despite the challenges and revelations of betrayal, Piranesi is ultimately described as a hopeful book. Piranesi's courage, acceptance of his circumstances, and his compassionate approach serve as lovely examples. His profound advice, "The Beauty of the House is immeasurable; its Kindness infinite," offers a powerful message of finding hope and meaning even in life's labyrinths. Piranesi endures profound betrayal and the shattering of his perceived reality. Yet, the book is described as hopeful , with Piranesi demonstrating "courage and acceptance". His advice emphasizes finding beauty and kindness in the House. The novel suggests that true resilience and hope are found not in clinging to a false reality, but in the courage to confront and accept a shattered one, and then to find beauty and meaning within the new, often harsher, truth. Piranesi's journey precipitates a re-evaluation of what constitutes a good or meaningful life, implying that peace can be found even after profound disorientation, by embracing a deeper, more authentic understanding of one's environment and self. This offers a universal message about navigating personal and existential crises.   ​
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Conclusion: Embracing the Mystery of Recursive Existence

Ultimately, whether we navigate the infinite libraries and temporal mazes of Borges, confront the visual paradoxes of M.C. Escher, or delve into the self-referential architecture of consciousness proposed by Hofstadter, we find ourselves grappling with similar fundamental truths. The Boy and the Heron and Piranesi stands as  powerful explorations of how the human experience, much like Borges's narratives and Hofstadter's theories, is defined by recursive journeys through self-created and perceived labyrinths, where meaning and identity emerge from the acceptance of life's inherent complexities and imperfections. The strange loop, much like the labyrinth, is not merely a puzzle to be solved, but a profound pattern that reveals the recursive, often paradoxical, nature of reality and the self. Embracing these loops encourages a shift in perspective, moving beyond simplistic linear solutions to appreciate the inherent complexity and often counter-intuitive beauty of existence, inviting a deeper, more humble engagement with the intricate, self-creating dance of our perceived reality.
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Next week we will continue our journey into the other worlds by looking at the surrealist landscapes of Leonora Carrinton and Remedios Varo. We will also journey down the rabbit hole with the connection of dream worlds and Alice in Wonderland. 

Welcome to the Garden. 🌹
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Here is a sneak peak:
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Down Below: Leonora Carrington’s Descent Into the Esoteric Underworld

“I was in a world that was not this world.” —Leonora Carrington, Down Below
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The Art of the Underworld

Several of Carrington’s artworks can be read as visual maps of Down Below—expressions of her descent and transformation through surreal and alchemical language:
  • "The Pomps of the Subsoil" (1947) — a pageant of hybrid beings moving through an underworld procession.
  • "And Then We Saw the Daughter of the Minotaur!" (1953)— echoes the descent into the labyrinth, with the feminine figure as seer and rebirth-bringer.
  • Mysterious chambers labeled with names like “the cell of the abyss,” “the corridor of eyes,” or “the room of the hyena”
  • Pathways and thresholds between zones, often inscribed with cryptic, mythological references
  • Zodiacal gates and planetary houses suggestive of astrological time.
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The Hyena

  • Her double. She appears in earlier stories like The Debutante. A trickster, a shapeshifter. ​
Picture
Leonora Carrington's map of the Down Below


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    Sarah Liénard 

    Esoteric Researcher, AfterlifeRoad Productions, Documentary Filmmaker
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