Eggleston, Borges

There is a magnificent phrase in Borges' poem "Llaneza", which Pereda draws attention to in his new book: "dialecto de alusiones" -- something like "dialect of allusions" or "dialect of references", "of mentions".

Here is the poem:

Se abre la verja del jardín
con la docilidad de la página
que una frecuente devoción interroga
y adentro las miradas
no precisan fijarse en los objetos
que ya están cabalmente en la memoria.
Conozco las costumbres y las almas
y ese dialecto de alusiones
que toda agrupación humana va urdiendo.
No necesito hablar ni mentir privilegios;
bien me conocen quienes aquí me rodean,
bien saben mis congojas y mi flaqueza.
Eso es alcanzar lo más alto,
lo que tal vez nos dará el Cielo:
no admiraciones ni victorias
sino sencillamente ser admitidos
como parte de una Realidad innegable,
como las piedras y los árboles.

With the expression, Borges refers to all those associations we do, on purpose or not, when we have a concept. Say, for instance, "Kaliningrad": amber, Baltic Sea, Kant, Rusia, Königsberg, etc.


When I read the expression "dialecto de alusiones" I think of William Eggleston and his unique use of color in photography. He is a master in the composition of colors, and every single shine or hue of the redish pattern fits exactly with the cold shades. Personally, I feel more confortable with black and white photography, perhaps because I am more interested in elder photographers, who used it mostly, and also because I always look for something behind the image itself (a gesture, a story, a soul). But Eggleston's colors are, as Borges put it, a "dialecto de alusiones" which can teach us always something worth about the world we live in.