"...a frozen memory, like any photo, where nothing is missing, not even, and especially, nothingness..." -- Julio Cortázar, "Blow Up" Mirror-mad, he photographed reflections: sunstorms in puddles, cities in canals, double portraits framed in sunglasses, the fat phantoms who dance on the flanks of cars. Nothing caught his eye unless it bent or glistered over something else. He trapped clouds in bottles the way kids trap grasshoppers. Then one misty day he was stopped by the windshield. Behind him, an avenue of trees, before him, the mirror of that scene. He seemed to enter what, in fact, he left.
Commentary
When I read this poem I thought that i was able to understand the poem and infer what I thought was the main idea of it. Was mainly talking about the idea of the mirror and how it seems to look at all the things around it. Seeing the reflection of various things throughout the world. Explains how this mirror seems to be entering a new world but with out even realizing that he had left.
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