This question has sparked a whole host of thoughts in me. I'd like to
try and give some kind of coherent word picture of them.
Gabriel García Márquez, with his magical realism, has always pleased me.
I find his books easy to understand; and appreciate. A phrase of T S
Eliot's runs through my head; mixing memory and desire, though Márquez
mixes memory, illusion, myth, and some other things in his cauldron. But
the main strand of truth underlies it all.
Jorge Luis Borges, with his garden of forking paths, labours relativism.
That's what echoes in my head when I read him; truth is a butterfly that
you can't catch. And science fiction thunders loudly; parallel
universes, time warps, the quantum microscopic world straying into the
macroscopic world of classical physics.
It's probably this way of looking at his books that he's unhappy with.
He'd like them to be appreciated in the same way that we view Márquez;
wherein the artistry hits you rather than a search for the underlying
explanation.
Ed