The Dramatic Monologue in The Poetry of Jorge Luis Borges: Marlene Gottlieb
The Dramatic Monologue in The Poetry of Jorge Luis Borges: Marlene Gottlieb
The Dramatic Monologue in The Poetry of Jorge Luis Borges: Marlene Gottlieb
Marlene Gottlieb
One cannot really say that the dramatic monologue was a dominant liter-
ary form in the nineteenth century. Much of its prestige derives from its
later influence; in the mid nineteenth century, it was the central mode of
expression for only one poet, Robert Browning. Nevertheless, Browning
did not “invent” the genre in isolation. Tennyson wrote a small number of
monologues before Browning did and continued to write new ones and
tinker with the old ones throughout his career. (200)
Nevertheless, it has only been in the last seventy to eighty years that the
dramatic monologue has been increasingly used in Spanish language po-
etry, both in Spain and Latin America. In Spain, although used by some
earlier poets, the genre was promoted by some of the Generation of 1927
tions as, Who speaks? What kind of a man says this? To whom does he
speak? Of whom is he talking? Where is he? At what point in the conversa-
tion do we break in upon him in the unconscious utterance of his life and
motives? Then, last of all, -What is the argument? The general subject and
thought will gradually become plain from the first question and the argu-
ment may be pretty clear before all the points are presented. (94-95)
1 The development of the genre in Spanish poetry has been well studied. That is not
the case with Latin American poetry, however. The author of this study is currently un-
dertaking this project.
2 “Poema conjectural” was first published in the literary supplement to the Buenos
Aires newspaper La Nación on July 4, 1943. It was subsequently included in the volume
Poemas (1943, 1952, 1958), El otro, el mismo (1964) and Obra poética (1964, 1966, 1967,
etc.).
the differences between the nineteenth-century dramatic monologues of
Browning and Tennyson, themselves quite distinct from one another, and
those of the twentieth century, of T.S. Eliot, Pound, Edgar Lee Masters, to
name the most frequently cited.
Borges was an avid reader and admirer of Browning. He referred to him
repeatedly in several essays and poems3 and considered him one of the
foremost precursors of modern literature (Burgin, 57). Perhaps the most
recognized reference pertinent to our study is Borges’s poem “Browning
61
resuelve ser poeta,” itself a dramatic monologue and belonging to the
1975 collection La rosa profunda, the volume that contains a great number
of Borges’s dramatic monologues, possibly in tribute to Browning. In this
3 See the Index to Borges of the University of Pittsburgh Borges Center for a list of cita-
tions: http://www.borges.pitt.edu/search_results.php?all-search=browning
4 All poems from La rosa profunda and subsequent volumes are quoted from Jorge
Luis Borges. Obra poética, 3. Madrid: Alianza Editorial, 1995.
The second characteristic the speaker cites is the need to relinquish
the lyric “I,” the Romantic self (“Viviré de olvidarme” 17) and replace it
with the creation of characters: “Ser la cara que entreveo y que olvido” (17).
Nevertheless, the use of the word “máscaras” for these characters reveals
the special hybrid nature of their persona, for their creator is always hid-
den behind them; albeit in the shadows, his presence is felt. Furthermore,
it is through the assumption of these characters as masks that the poet,
the creator, realizes and sees himself for who he really is.
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Máscaras, agonías, resurrecciones,
destejerán y tejerán mi suerte
y alguna vez seré Robert Browning. (17)
Marlene Gottlieb
5 Given that this poem is perhaps Borges’s best known and has been repeatedly ana-
lyzed by several critics (Jones, Alazraki, Carilla, among others), I have chosen to simply
refer to the poem without further discussion.
y de polvo de imperios
y de rumor de hexámetros
y de altos caballos de Guerra
y de clamores y de Shakespeare.
Yo quiero recordar aquel beso
con el que me besabas en Islandia. (140)
The dramatic monologue allows Borges not only to revisit and re-view the
past but to actualize it, placing it in the present moment in all its dramatic
64 intensity. A listing of the titles of his dramatic monologues6 reveals this
predilection for a revisionist dramatization of history and culture, espe-
cially those lesser-known aspects, perhaps foreign to many of his readers:
Marlene Gottlieb
6 Both Linares and Cervera include listings of the dramatic monologues of Borges.
Their lists do not entirely coincide given their somewhat different definitions of the
genre. My own list basically coincides with Linares’s, although we don’t always coincide
on the volume from which the poems are taken.
7 Although the title doesn’t openly reveal the content, “El advenimiento” is a dra-
matic monologue in which the speaker is the painter of the Altamira caves.
“Gunnar Thorgilsson (1816-1875)”8
La cifra (1981): “Descartes”
Los conjurados (1985): “Góngora”
Borges’s characters are, on the whole, heroes, men of action engaged and
victorious in battle (Magnus Barfod, Muirchertach, Omar I, Tamerlain,
Hengist the King), men who have faced and overcome great challenges
(Alexander Selkirk, Adam), renowned authors (Descartes, Cervantes, Gón-
gora) and literary and mythological personages (Don Quijote, Macbeth, 65
Asterion, the Minotaur). In a fashion typical of Borges, no distinction is
made between authentic historical characters, literary personages, mytho-
logical figures, and purely fictitious, imagined creations, for all history is a
dramatic, theatrical, oral aspect of the genre interested Borges less. His
characters speak as if they were writing; although the language he uses
is simple, it is not colloquial. The characters think aloud, and, as in most
of Borges’s short stories, they are ideas, not fully developed psychologi-
cal beings. The characters of the Borges’s dramatic monologues share the
major obsessive themes and often echo those of his most famous short
stories, especially “Las ruinas circulares”: literary creation is parallel to di-
vine creation. All human beings are characters in the dream of another
who in turn is being dreamed by yet another in a series of reflecting mir-
rors. The created, i.e. dreamed, character sees himself as autonomous from
his creator when in fact his every move has been manipulated in a destiny
over which he has no control. In typical fashion, the two sides of the coin
are lived simultaneously, Janus figures with two inseparable faces: at once
the active subject and the passive object, oneself and the other. One freely
chooses one’s path and identity yet ironically the pattern has already been
predetermined by another. In the poem “E.A.P” Edgar Allan Poe dreams
his most famous works, and in “Cervantes,” the Spaniard, dreams his Qui-
jote (29). In a kind of companion poem “Ni siquiera soy polvo,” Alonso
Quijano, who consciously fashions himself into Don Quijote, recognizes
his dual fate as creator and created:
Ni siquiera soy polvo. Soy un sueño
que entreteje en el sueño y la vigilia
mi hermano y padre, el capitán Cervantes,
que militó en lo mares de Lepanto
y supo unos latines y algo de árabe…
Para que yo pueda soñar al otro
cuya verde memoria será parte
de los días del hombre te suplico:
Mi Dios, mi soñador, sigue soñándome. (137)
In the short poem “Macbeth” the character exists to vindicate the author:
“Maté a mi rey para que Shakespeare/ urdiera su tragedia” (30).
The ironic twists of fate and the inversion of opposites so common
in the short stories are present in the dramatic monologues as well. Cer-
67
vantes declares that he has had both positive and negative experiences,
and he considers his most positive his imprisonment since it was there
that he dreamt the Quijote (29). And in the poem “El ingenuo” the char-
though he tends to leave the situation more vague since ultimately the
idea the character represents overshadows his existence as a distinct and
individual psychological entity
Numerous characters populate Borges’s poetry, either as the speaker,
the topic of the poem or the person addressed. Borges has actually toyed
with all three voices: the first person speaker, the second person to whom
one speaks, and the third person subject about which one is speaking. In
the dramatic monologue, each of these has an important role. In Borges’s
dramatic monologues, the speaker’s voice is the determining factor for the
genre. The role of the implied listener in the dramatic monologues is less
explicit than in Browning’s, and in fact, the audience to whom the subject
directs his monologue can easily be interpreted as the reader. The listener
is virtually absent from the poems and often the monologues seem more
like soliloquies. There are a few dramatic monologues, however, in which
there is a declared listener: “El enemigo generoso;” Al hijo;” “Ni siquiera
soy polvo;” “Gunnar Thorgilsson (1816-1875)”. Ironically, in a kind of
corollary to the dramatic monologue genre, in an inordinate number of
Borges’s poems that are not dramatic monologues and as early as in his
first volumes and increasingly in the volumes beginning with El otro, el
mismo, the poetic subject addresses a specific listener other than the reader.
In this sense Borges’s poetry has always had a dramatic bent.
Borges has repeatedly underscored the symbiotic relationship between
the author and the reader, the creator and the re-creator or interpreter: “El
que lee mis palabras está inventándolas” (“La dicha,” La cifra 207). The
text is the object that triggers the unique experience of each. While cer-
tainly Borges’s work is enhanced by a well educated, “privileged” reader
(to use the term Riffaterre coined in The Semiotics of Poetry), a reader who
is able to understand the double entendres and the intertextual allusions,
nevertheless, most of Borges’s work, both in poetry and prose, can be read
on multiple levels. Even in the most literal reading, where the reader is
unaware of the numerous historical, literary, and even autobiographical
references, the main theme is expressed so clearly through the plot and
situation that its meaning becomes apparent even to the less discern-
69
ing reader. Furthermore, Borges often includes notes to assist the reader
with his more esoteric references. Unlike the footnotes to the short stories,
where Borges toys with his readers giving them false references and lead-
10 The count is as follows: El hacedor: 5; El otro, el mismo: 7 (in addition to the 5 from
Hacedor); Seis cuerdas:1; Elogio:2; El oro de los tigres: 9; Rosa profunda: 8; Moneda: 5; Historia:
4; Cifra: 3; Conjurados:1.
11 Browning also had a predilection for marginalized characters whose redemption
was generally perceived as perverse, according to Langbaum: “most successful dramatic
monologues deal with speakers who are in some way reprehensible. Browning’s con-
temporaries accused him of ‘perversity’ because they found it necessary to sympathize
with his reprehensible characters” (85-86). He further points out that “The American
poets, Robinson and Masters, use dramatic monologues to make us sympathize with
misfits of the American scene, and Frost uses the form (often first-person narratives) to
expose aberrations of mind and soul in New England. Eliot writes of asexuality and fear
of life in ‘Prufrock’ and ‘Portrait of a Lady’” (93).
En la pública luz de las batallas
otros dan su vida a la patria
y los recuerda el mármol.
Yo he errado oscuro por ciudades que odio.
le di otras cosas. (31)
Abjuré de mi honor,
traicioné a quienes me creyeron su amigo,
compré conciencias,
70 abominé del nombre de la patria.
me resigno a la infamia. (237)12
The conqueror, on the other hand, celebrates his courage and valor, de-
spite the pain he has inflicted. He cares little for the ideologies his actions
Marlene Gottlieb
represented, and he openly rejects the black legend of his avarice. He is the
heroic archetype of strength and bravery (repeatedly seen in Borges’ cult of
masculine power in his portrayal of the “barbarous” gaucho):
Ni Cristo ni mi Rey ni el oro rojo
fueron el acicate del arrojo
que puso miedo en la pagana gente.
12 This poem appears in both La rosa profunda and La cifra. The only variant in the two
poems is the final line: in La rosa profunda the verb is in the past “Me resigné a la infa-
mia”, whereas in the later volume, La cifra, Borges opts for the verb in the present tense,
making the infamy more pronounced and long lasting: “Me resigno a la infamia”.
avant-garde poets of the period idolized the Spanish Baroque poet Luis de
Góngora, Borges, even at the height of his ultraísta period, found him too
ornate and excessive for his taste. In this poem, rather than alter his own
view of Góngora, he presents a kind of mea culpa in the voice of Góngora
himself as he renounces his hermetic labyrinthine poetry (“Hice que cada/
estrofa fuera un arduo laberinto/ de entretejidas voces, un recinto/ vedado
al vulgo” [313]) and, just as Borges once did, returns to the simple and the
commonplace, exclaiming: “Quiero volver a las comunes cosas:/ el agua,
71
el pan, un cántaro, unas rosas… (314). In typical fashion, he uncovers his
secret destiny, his cabalistic fate: “¿Quién me dirá si en el secreto archivo/
de Dios están las letras de mi nombre?” (314).
13 In several interviews Borges indicates that he often uses this technique of donning
the mask of another author to express concerns about his own work. This is the case
with the poem “Gracián”, as he explained in an interview with Gonzalo Sobejano: “That
is not a poem that makes fun of Baltasar Gracián. It’s a poem that makes fun of me. I am
the Gracián of that poem
and that poem is really an autocaricature, say. I never thought
of the historical Gracián; I thought of myself” (Cortínez, 43).
to theme merits a study in and of itself. Borges repeatedly claimed that
the subject dictated its verse form, and in the prologue to La moneda de
hierro, he states: “Cada sujeto, por ocasional o tenue que sea, nos impone
una estética peculiar” (70). Whether or not there is any visible pattern to
his choice of verse form is a study yet to be undertaken. However, at first
glance, there doesn’t appear to be a hard and fast rule. In some volumes
of poetry, there is an overwhelming number of sonnets (almost evenly
divided between Shakespearean and Petrarchan in El hacedor and El otro,
72
el mismo and then increasingly Shakespearean), free verse poems, and
rhymed hendecasyllable quatrains. These are gradually reduced after La
rosa and La moneda and replaced primarily by free verse and unrhymed
Marlene Gottlieb
as part of the human experience. The speaker addresses the wife of the
enemy soldier he has just killed. Rather than exult over the historic victory
of his troops, he concentrates on the personal loss his enemy’s wife will
feel when she experiences her husband’s absence, finding herself alone
in their marriage bed. The poem opens with a simple short five-syllable
direct line: “Nadie a tu lado.” No background has been given other than
the title. The speaker is not identified. Clearly, the theme is personal loss,
human pain, presented out of its historical context, thereby universalizing
the experience, making the particular event the archetype of human loss, a
constant practice in Borges’s work. The poem continues with the speaker
narrating the events in a very stark and direct prose style, capturing the
bare facts with complete sentences and strong verbs: “Anoche maté a un
hombre en la batalla/ La espada entró en el pecho […]/ Rodó por tierra.”
The speaker refers to the enemy not as the woman’s husband but simply
as the anonymous “un hombre,” once again underscoring the universal-
ity rather than the peculiarity of the experience. He pays tribute to the
worth of his enemy (“Era animoso y alto, de la clara estirpe de Anlaf”), yet
his description of his death emphasizes man’s ultimate insignificance as
he becomes nothing more than a thing, a thing for the crows to feed on, as
the repetition and line split underscore: “Rodó por tierra y fue una cosa,/
una cosa del cuervo.” The next six lines address the wife, “mujer que no he
visto,” again not a particular woman but the anonymous woman as wife,
the archetypal role taking precedence over the individual. The lines begin
with “en vano” followed by the strong “no” that initiates the subsequent
lines, again emphasizing loss, over which we have no control. The penulti-
mate verses “Tu lecho está frío/ Anoche maté a un hombre en Brunanburh”
return us to the beginning of the poem, framing the entire composition
with the historical action and its personal consequence. The variant in the
final verse now incorporates the title and completes the picture. The free
verse allows the poet to narrate the actions in long verses of nine to fifteen
syllable lines, while the human experience of loss and absence is captured
primarily in short verses of five to seven syllables.
For “Ni siquera soy polvo” from Historia de la noche Borges chose a 75
long series of blank unrhymed hendecasyllables. The syntax is prosaic
with simple direct phraseology, no hyperbatons, few adjectives, primarily
verbs and nouns. The absence of rhyme contributes to the natural oral-
14 A line reminiscent of Neruda’s “Sucede que me canso de ser hombre,” although
with a very different meaning: Borges confronts the dilemma of man’s uncontrollable
destiny, whereas Neruda expresses contemporary human anguish in an absurd and
meaningless society.
uses the name “don Quijote” because the flesh and blood historical real-
ity of Alonso Quijano supersedes his intangible invented self. Despite his
efforts, Man cannot choose his own identity. He is at the mercy of another
who allows him to be. Borges’s speaker is not afforded Hamlet’s renowned
dilemma to choose “To be or not to be.” His reality is in the hands of an-
other. As facing mirrors technique of “Las ruinas circulares” (a duplication
technique also known as the Chinese box, Russian doll, concentric circles),
Borges places the parallel figures of God the creator/Cervantes the author
76
alongside one another as they dream their creations, man/fictional charac-
ter Alonso Quijano, who in turn both attempt to dream their own chosen
identities, only to find that these have no substance (“Mi cara (que no he
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visto)/ no proyecta una cara en el espejo”), not even the humiliating Biblical
dust that man ultimately becomes. The title “Ni siquiera soy polvo,” haunts
the text like an echo throughout, as the speaker attempts to define his other,
his chosen self. Once again, Borges’s protagonist is at once a particular indi-
vidual as well as an archetype: Alonso Quijano’s fate is that of all men.
In the case of the dramatic monologues in sonnet form, it is illumi-
nating to contrast Borges’s use of three sonnet forms: the Shakespearean
sonnet (“Él” from El otro, el mismo), the Petrarchan (“Adam Cast Forth”
from El otro, el mismo), and a freer version of the Petrarchan (“El ingenuo”
from La moneda de hierro). In “Él” Borges once again hides the identity
of the speaker with the generic pronoun of the title, which, as it turns
out, is a reference to God, “el Eterno,” rather than to the speaker, whose
identity is revealed in the closing couplet of the sonnet. The structure of
the Shakespearean sonnet allows Borges to develop the main theme of
the poem in the three quatrains, with their three repeated rhyme patterns,
ABBA / CDDC / EFFE. Each quatrain is composed of one main phrase with
the verse lines united by the enjambment of the first three lines in the
first two quatrains and in the third quatrain, the first two lines. Each qua-
train is capped by a summarizing clarification: “Él es la luz, lo negro y lo
Amarillo;” “Las negras hidras y los tigres rojos;” “Las porfiadas raíces del
profundo/ cedro y las mutaciones de la luna.” The theme of the quatrains
is the constant oversight15 and presence of God (“Es y los ve”) who is all
15 Borges’s emphasis on sight as conferring reality coincides with his concept of
blindness as a dream world or a world of the mind and an escape from the realities of
the surrounding physical world.
and whose “incesantes ojos” see all. He sees the listener whom the speak-
er addresses (the still unidentified “tú” of “tu carne”), and his presence
is felt in all aspects of the universe, positive and negative or simultane-
ously both positive and negative (“el brillo del insufrible sol”), expressed
in the Biblical “Él es la luz, lo negro y lo amarillo” and the terrifying “las
negras hidras y los tigres rojos.” God is not only the creator and origin of
all things, but the embodiment of them as well: “No le basta crear. Es cada
una/ de las criaturas de Su extraño mundo.” It is the rhyming couplet that
77
completes the Shakespearean sonnet, however, that permits Borges to cli-
mactically reveal the identity of the speaker as Cain (and the listener as
Abel) and enunciate his startling conclusion that God is present not only
between the grandiose moments in history and nature and those minor,
almost trivial, moments that symbolize Borges’s personal concerns: the
secret and almost magical sense and logical organization of matter (“Me
asombra que una llave pueda abrir una puerta,” a line that echoes several
in “Una llave en East Lansing”: “Hay una cerradura que me espera/ […]/
Alguna vez empujaré la dura/ puerta y haré girar la cerradura”); the aware-
ness of one’s actual physical reality (“me asombra que mi mano sea un
cosa cierta”); the obsession with the paradox of time and space as seen in
the contradiction of Zeno’s arrow simultaneously in motion and at rest
(“me asombra que del griego la eleática saeta/ instantánea no alcance la
inalcanzable meta”); the ambiguous nature of courage and valor in battle,
cruelly violent yet heroically beautiful (“me asombra que la espada cruel
pueda ser hermosa”); and finally, the merging of physical and symbolic
reality in Borges’s favored symbol of the rose. The title of the poem under-
scores the “innocent” candor of the speaker who prefers the simple to the
grandiose, a hallmark of Borges’s ars poetica.
Borges’s choice of different verse forms for his various dramatic mono-
logues thus aptly illustrates his conviction that the theme drives the form.
Furthermore, he carefully molded the dramatic monologue genre to his
own idiosyncrasies and obsessions evident in much of his poetry. While
he attempted to capture the orality of the dramatic monologue through
his prosaic syntax, the avoidance of hyperbatons, and a flowing rhythm
enhanced by enjambment and echo-like word repetitions, his language is
a combination of direct and simple words and phrases interspersed with
language characteristic of a well-educated intellectual with a predilection
for words more appropriate to written expression: “la avara suerte me ha
deparado” (136), “carne célibe” (137). He often chooses verbs more com-
monly used in their noun form: “El año me tributa mi pasto de hombres”
(28); “Cada aurora (nos dicen) maquina maravillas” (88); “fabularon los
hombres…plasma el sueño” (121); “los libros que historian cabalmente
las empresas (136); “Un hombre ciego en una casa hueca/ fatiga ciertos
limitados rumbos” (163). His choice of adjectives, quite often as epithets
preceding the noun they modify (“Crueles estrellas y propicias estrellas/
79
presideron la noche de mi génesis” (29); “el errante soldado” (85), “la pa-
gana gente” (85); una vaga sobrina analfabeta (136)) reveals a preference
for alliteration as well as abstraction (“la terca tierra,” “La primera de las