Apr 14, 2023

April 14, 2023 There is a book that makes me feel better with its mere presence on the shelf. It is always there; still, checkered, blue-gray, mysterious. I have not read it and at this point it is unrealistic to think that I will read it in life. There comes a time when you have to accept limitations. Everyone has issues collecting dust out there, it’s the passage of time. This book lives with me and I will have read its first pages many times that I can’t remember. There it is, half virgin. I see it from the table. The important thing is what it promises. According to the flap, the emotion of infinity. How can I miss something like that? I rest my eyes on her bluish back and fantasize about reading it on a deserted island, after the shipwreck. It’s the only way. I can see myself reading the 828 pages in front of the reefs. The book penetrates me and makes me a better person, more intelligent, generous and creative. I run through the sand, among seagulls. It’s too bad there’s no one else around here to share my new inner state with. Why do I want it then? Gödel, Escher, Bach: an eternal and graceful loop, of Douglas R. Hofstadter, turned into fodder for seagulls. I take the book from the shelf, I like to feel its weight. I go to the bathroom scale, I weigh myself without it and with it; together we increased a kilo and a half. I hug him in front of the mirror, would you read it on the island or would time go by watching the return of the waves once more? Perhaps you, who kindly read these lines in some place that I can’t even imagine, have read the book. It is statistically possible because it was a best seller, as well as a Pulitzer Prize winner. Getty Images/iStockphoto Perhaps you have read the book; it was a bestseller; why don’t I read it? Why don’t I read it? The flap scolds: “Can a system understand itself? Every language, every formal system, every computer program or thought process arrives, sooner or later, at the limit of self-reference: of wanting to express themselves. Then the emotion of infinity arises, like two mirrors facing each other and forced to reflect each other indefinitely”. We listen to Bach, we look at Escher and we don’t understand Gödel’s theorem, but that eternal and graceful loop of the title is an amatory intellectual promise. So I start the damn book, once again, determined to read it through in the big city because it’s never too late in a spiral. read also *The article has been translated based on the content of Portada by www.lavanguardia.com . If there is any problem regarding the content, copyright, please leave a report below the article. We will try to process as quickly as possible to protect the rights of the author. Thank you very much! *We just want readers to access information more quickly and easily with other multilingual content, instead of information only available in a certain language. *We always respect the copyright of the content of the author and always include the original link of the source article.If the author disagrees, just leave the report below the article, the article will be edited or deleted at the request of the author. Thanks very much! Best regards! Report Content