I remember a PostSecret from many years ago that was a picture of the title plate of Ficciones, and the "secret" was somebody saying they wished that they could have just one night in front of a fire with a bottle of malt whiskey and the person who introduced them to that work. I had never read Borges before, but I liked that sort of a feeling a book could create, so I trudged to the bookshop and found a copy, and then settled into a corner of a cosy pub (I live in England), not far from a fire and a golden retriever, with a pint of ale and settled in.

Changed my life, when it comes to literature.

The feelings you get from that work are hard to describe, but unique and engaging and marvellous. But when you step back and look at it from a critical reading, it's all a bit odd and silly and mocking.

There is no writer I want in my pocket more than Borges though, particularly when it's dark and cold outside and the fire is burning, and a friend who also appreciates him is nearby to discuss.