An interview with Giovanna Comani, on April 2, 2025, the author of Jorge Luis Borges: Sources and Illumination, (Octagon Press, 1978, written under her surname by marriage, Giovanna de Garayalde).
In 1978, Octagon Press, the publishing predecessor of ISF published a book entitled Jorge Luis Borges: Sources and Illumination. The short work offered an in-depth study into the subject matter and themes in the writings of the Argentinian essayist, poet and short story writer, Jorge Luis Borges (1899-1986)—considered by many to be one of the greatest literary figures of modern times. Borges’ writings are of high intellectual calibre, but are also often lofty, enigmatic and otherworldly. His short fiction, in many cases, even defies our notions of linearity, time and space. Borges’ works draw on a wealth of bibliographic references and sources that can be best described as metaphysical in nature, some of which are of Eastern origin.
In Jorge Luis Borges: Sources and Illumination, [https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/56471068-jorge-luis-borges ] author Giovanna de Garayalde convincingly argues that the ideas and themes encapsulated in Borges’ writings reflect those from both the Middle Eastern and Central Asian Sufi tradition. Her book is a comparative study between Borges’ short fiction and Sufi philosophy as elucidated in the works of Idries Shah.
‘In one of the books, Idries Shah’s Tales of the Dervishes, I found various tales which I had read in Borges’ books,’ she writes, describing the genesis of her book project. ‘This coincidence intrigued me and I started looking for others. I found so many and so much concrete bibliographical data, that I could not but conclude that there was a foreshadowing of Borges’ thought in Sufi thought.’
On a recent trip to Argentina, Canadian journalist and author John Zada brought along a copy of Jorge Luis Borges: Sources and Illumination to read while there. During his stay, on a whim, he googled Giovanna de Garayalde, whose exact identity up until then had remained obscure and seemingly absent from the internet. His search results led him to an Argentinian webpage summarizing a recent talk she had given. Zada later tracked down the 83-year-old de Garayalde (now going by her maiden name of Giovanna Comani), and requested an interview with her about her book and her interest in Sufism and Borges, to which she happily agreed.
The Q&A took place by video on April 2, 2025.
How did you get the idea to write Jorge Luis Borges: Sources and Illumination?
I discovered the works of Idries Shah at a book exhibition in Argentina in 1972. Not long afterwards, I became involved in a local Sufi study group which read Shah’s works. At that time I was also reading Borges. So, I began to notice that certain Sufi names and themes mentioned in Shah’s books also featured in Borges’—and vice versa. It began to see it during my first reading of Tales of the Dervishes. That’s how I conceived of the idea to write about the coincidence of the two authors’ ideas.
I shared this book project vision with the people in my group. They were already involved in translating and publishing the books of Octagon Press into Spanish, and so we asked Octagon if they’d be interested in having me pursue this. Back then, all of the correspondences were through letters between Argentina and the UK. Idries Shah actually read my proposal and was intrigued with the idea. Octagon agreed to the book.
Both the publisher and my study group gave me lots of materials and books so I could begin research. A few other Octagon works, still only available in English at the time, were translated specifically for this book project on Borges.
What were the first similarities you noticed between the Sufi ideas presented in Shah’s books and the Borges writings?
I first noticed citations that Borges made in some of his stories: Middle Eastern references, names of mystics, aspects of the Arabian Nights, for instance. Then there were the spiritual ideas. The experiences of the protagonist in the story ‘The Aleph’ offered parallels to a lot of the themes on perception that appear in the Sufi tales. There's also Borges’ spiritual perspective in which there is no absolute good or evil. In Borges’ stories, the bad guy isn’t entirely bad; the good isn’t entirely good. The author is always trying to search that middle ground and give a more holistic and non-dogmatic view on morality. The things that interested me the most about the Sufi stories were also present in the Borges works: that there is no rigid moral code or a predictable or formulaic order to life, and that we should explore and find our own answers rather than subscribe to the ideologies of others.
Describe your process of researching the book?
It was quite simple: lots and lots of reading and note-taking. Once the book contract had been agreed, I gathered around 25 books—Borges and Octagon titles. I read all of them, one by one, looking for overlapping themes and ideas. At that time, I was raising two young daughters, so I was going through motherhood while doing all of this research manually. I spent two and a half years working like this.
What happened after you finished writing the book and sent it to Octagon?
Octagon got in touch with Borges and asked him if he would meet with me to provide any feedback on the manuscript, and ultimately give us his okay to publish the book. He agreed, and I brought the manuscript to my meeting with him.
Of course, he was mostly blind and couldn’t read. So, I had to tell him about the book myself. I first explained to him that the book was drawing a connection between his writings and those of the Sufis. When Borges heard that, he began to recount the word ‘Sufi’ and said, ‘Oh, yes, yes… aren’t they a Muslim sect’” I had trouble explaining to him what the Sufis were: and that they went beyond being just a religious derivation of Islam. I told him there is a deeper significance to them.
In that moment I didn’t see it, but Borges was leading me on. He was pretending to know less than he did and was asking questions to elicit answers that he already knew. Borges already understood who and what the Sufis were and wanted to see how I would explain it. He spent 30 minutes asking me all kinds of other questions just to see what my opinions were. He did this for a reason. There were a lot of ideological movements in Argentina at the time. With the enmity that existed with the English, a lot of people accused Borges of being an Anglophile. Many said he was anti-Peronist, while others claimed he was an atheist. Some accused him of being a traitor. Borges wanted to know if I held any of these opinions and positions.
At the end of our chat, Borges said that he was interested in reading the book, but that he was blind and that his mother, who usually read to him, was also no longer well enough to do so. So, I suggested that I read him the book. He liked that idea. When we couldn’t find a mutually agreeable time because of conflicts of schedule, Borges told me he’d cancel his daily nap time (which was a fairly important practice for him) to accommodate me. His naps were like a religious ritual.
It’s amazing that you wrote a book about one of the greatest writers of contemporary Spanish-language literature, who then subsequently asked you to read to him your entire work. What was that experience like?
It was wonderful. I loved the time we spent together. Borges was very attentive. He sat quietly and listened to all of it.
At the time, my colleagues who were studying Shah pushed hard to have me bring some sort of recording device to document the reading. Either an audio tape recorder or VHS video camera. But I felt that this would be a bit of an insult to Borges—and to the process. Not just because our reading was a private and intimate session. Argentina had gone through a military coup, and it was fairly common for the school principals to spy and inform on what teachers were saying to their students. There was a lot of surveillance in society. So, the idea to record the session with Borges, I felt, would be in bad taste.
And how did Borges react when you read him the book? How did he feel about the work?
He only interrupted to make some grammatical changes and to correct misspellings and wrong transliterations. At the end of it, I apologized for having taken up all of his nap time. He responded: ‘No, please, it is a great honour for me to have been linked to the Sufi mystics.’
Borges added that he was very glad that I made these connections between the Sufis and his works. He understood the linkages, agreed with them, and was also impressed with the importance I placed on those connections.
After a week or so, Borges got in contact with Octagon Press. I don't know exactly what kind of conversation they had, but he apparently gave the okay for the book. The plan was to publish the book in the original Spanish in which it was written, as well as in English. Our study group was planning to work on both versions. But there were political concerns. Some Spanish editions of Octagon’s other books had drawn the attention of the regime. So, it was decided to publish the book just in English in the UK under the title Jorge Luis Borges: Sources and Illumination.
Was there any feedback once the book was published? How was the book received as far as you knew?
Because of the language barrier and distance from the English-speaking world, I didn’t know how the book was received by readers. I saw the book often in the catalogues that Octagon sent to our group. The publisher also passed along Doris Lessing’s review of the book. It was only later when Lessing won the Nobel Prize, that I realized how important her review was.
Months later, Octagon Press asked if I’d be interested in doing a similar comparison between Sufi literature and certain other Spanish works—books like Don Quixote. But I decided not to pursue any more comparative studies. I was overworked and tired of books and writing and research. I had also just got a job as a theatre teacher, and was eager to do something more hands-on that didn’t require so much constant reading.
Was that the end of your involvement with the subject of Borges, then?
There was more! When I became a theater teacher, I adapted two of Borges’ stories for the stage. Those productions took place nine years after I published the book. And at that time, by coincidence, Borges was in our city and was invited to see the last rehearsal before the premiere. The adapted stories were Man on Pink Corner and its prequel The Story from Rosendo Juárez—two completely different versions of the same narrative, written 35 years apart. Borges was interested in knowing how we had staged the play since he had seen a film about the first story that he had not liked.
Incidentally, did you ever meet Idries Shah? Or were there any communications with him?
No, never. There were some problems communicating with Britain due to the Malvinas Islands (i.e. Falkland Islands) dispute and war that was happening during part of this time. This complicated things a lot.
Near the beginning of your book you write: ‘If I am seeking to establish a link between the author and Sufism, my intention is not to affiliate him to Sufism nor to show a conscious attitude on his part, but simply to establish points in common between Borges’ writing and this teaching—which is seemingly just as disturbing—in order to better understand this mysterious man by drawing an analogy between him and Sufism.’
Having said that, how do you explain the remarkable coincidence of the two thematic streams without Borges having known anything about many of the Sufi works you cite?
As you say, Borges didn't know the Shah books themselves, and what they contained. He knew about the ideas. He was very knowledgeable about mysticism in religions in general. He knew about the mysticism of Christianity, Judaism, and Islam. He knew a lot about those deep cultures and traditions rather than the pop culture interpretations that most people have of them. He knew Sufism in a historical sense. And he knew some of the medieval Sufi writers by name. When I began my research and went through Borges’ works, I noticed that he mentioned a lot of the writers from the Sufi tradition that I also knew. Because he mentioned them in his writing, you could say Borges was also somehow inspired by them.
In retrospect now, what are your thoughts about Idries Shah’s books? How much of an impact did they have on you?
They were life changing. When I picked up his books for the first time in 1972, I was completely surprised to read works that didn't force ideas on you. They were books that were somehow about nothing in particular, but at the same time said so much. They were unlike any other books I’d read at the time. Shah’s works both changed the way I thought, and altered my view on books themselves. They also changed my approach to motherhood. I didn't want to force ideas on my daughters. Instead, I wanted them to search for their own meanings in life. After they grew up, they had their own conversations about spirituality, and even about Sufi ideas, which they explored in their own ways. As a family it has been a very large part of our lives. The book I wrote covered only one chapter of it.
Giovanna Comani (formerly de Garayalde) is a retired professor of literature and Latin, and a former theatre arts teacher, who lives in the town of Concordia, Entre Ríos, Argentina. She is the author of Jorge Luis Borges: Sources and Illumination.
John Zada is an author and journalist based in Toronto, Canada.