Making Words Magic Again, in a Hall of Mirrors

"To make words like magic again, we forget what they mean. Say any one of them over and over again so that it is just a sound thrumming inside you, drilling its emptiness into your soul. Sentences as sounds precede their sense as purpose. It seems to be only the human beings who name things. The people. The place. The not-human. The voice. The change. Accident or design? The world is still the same and not the same. It is language that wants it to be one or the other. The name must hold. And the thing is gone as soon as we have identified it. Left with only the name, we hold empty words. These incantations and syllables swirl around the elusive subjects of reality. If only words could be more than words! Trap any one of them in a corridor of parallel mirrors, and the single name immediately echoes to infinity. Inside the scale of that sound is a region of magic, where what is awesome pushes through the confines of reason."
—David Rothenberg, Wild Ideas, 1995, p. 140

Mirror

The magic is in you, and the mirrors reflect it.
—Uma Reed, Developing Your Intuition With Magic Mirrors (1998)

Mirror. There is a “shivery thrill” [1] to the word. “Mirrors have been used as special, magical devices for thousands of years. . . . It is not surprising that the magical words ‘Mirror, mirror on the wall’ play such an important part in the story of Snow White.” [2] As in Lewis Carroll’s famous novel Through the Looking Glass, mirrors entice us with the idea that they might show “alternative worlds or realities.” [3] Small wonder that mirrors have played such an important, historical part in the art of conjuring.

In Literature:

• “Mirror, mirror, mirror. The words reflected back and forth endlessly in his mind.” —Ian Irvine, A Shadow on the Glass (1998)

• “This is a magic mirror. I know. You’ve probably heard of a magic mirror before. There was a magic mirror in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Let me see if I can remember the magic words to say to the magic mirror. Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all? That’s right. Well, this isn’t the same mirror, it’s better. Here are the magic words to say to this mirror: Mirror, mirror in my hand, show me evil in the land.” —Lisa Bany-Winters, “The Snow Queen,” On Stage (1997)

[1] Ian Irvine, Dark is the Moon (1999)

[2] Richard Webster, Soul Mates (2001)

[3] Stephen R. Donaldson, Mirror of Her Dreams (1986)

Magic Mirrors of Ink

While painting magic words onto a talisman, a magician of old spilled a puddle of ink and discovered something marvelous. Reflecting and absorbing light at one and the same time, an inkblot is a magic mirror.

Egyptian magicians use magic mirrors of ink to open one's eyes "in a supernatural manner," to make one's sight pierce into "the invisible world." Magic mirrors of ink are poured onto parchment and empowered by beseeching two genii whose names are Tarshun and Taryooshun. Traditionally, the persons best equipped to gaze into a magic mirror of ink are prepubescent boys, virgins, pregnant women, and dark-skinned bondswomen. For a detailed account of the preparation of a magic mirror of ink and the visions it granted, see Jorge Luis Borges' The Mirror of Ink (1998), pages 1-5, or An Account of the Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians (1890), pages 247-252.

Here's a link to artist Teresita Fernandez's "Ink Mirror (Landscape)," a slab of highly-polished black fiberglass.