Luck

In Borges’s story “The Theologians”, collected in The Aleph in 1949, two churchmen of the early Middle Ages spend their lives refuting heresies. Aurelian, coadjutor of Aquileia, writes against a sect that believes history repeats in cycles. His rival, John of Pannonia, writes against the same sect more briefly and more brilliantly, and Aurelian never forgives him. Years later, when a new heresy appears, Aurelian recognizes in its doctrine a sentence John once wrote in good faith. He reports it. John is burned at the stake. Aurelian dies some time later in a fire set by lightning, and in paradise he learns that, for the unfathomable divinity, he and John of Pannonia formed a single person. …

The Gershwin lullaby that opens Porgy and Bess sets its conditions fast: “Your daddy’s rich and your mama’s good-lookin’.” That’s the benchmark. Clear it, and luck is assumed. Don’t clear it, and the rest is—supposedly—on you. I don’t clear it. My father was not rich. My country—by most international measurements—is not rich. And yet, looking back across decades, I cannot pretend I walked the same terrain as most people around me. What I had was something more subtle than inherited money, and in some ways more durable: I inherited an architecture. …