The last proposal of the journal, “Open call to the PIIGS for a text-mining of the troika”, can be aligned

against the growing, more anti- than democratic, institutionalization of language/s. The SOUTH political
fiction tries to turn around, “along the making of the everyday life”, the extractivist schoolyard that
countries such as Spain or Greece constitute for Central Europe. While the Troika drains itself through the
PIIG, Rocha inscribes and tests an “aesthetics of dispossession” able to mine the lettered textualities that
would gather the onto-political distortion by which the PIIG is codified, for example, in “menus, delivery
notes, furniture renta, confirmations, accommodation receipts, invoices, promissory notes, certificates”
(140). There is no bread enough to eat them. The bread is baked: ‘having one’s hands in the dough.’,
‘mother dough-mass’. There is no valid state alongside the dough-mass. And not the one that’s thought of
as impotent and formless among the fingers of an invisible hand. The moment of mashing (with Vainica
Doble), the preparation, the baking, matter. “4h 09” in the oven, or some months in the Sun. In and
around “Fervor Salado” (Remedios Linares), between immolation and neologism, one can find the care
for the instant which massive inflammatory interventions forget. There is no mashable dough-mass, but
hands that mash. Mashing words to be read-heard: “he de decir / me gustaría decir / poder decir” (122).
The response to letters and expedients and application forms and ballots that in the end do not wish for
any answer. The “persecución de un zumbar”, “mientras otros escriben poesía” (124). The poetry
collected in L/E/N/G/U/A/J/E/o tends to thematize, and at the same time, perform, the zones in which
language, subjectivity and discourse find each other. Six poetic works, apart from the one by Linares, are
specific objects of analysis/reproduction: the already mentioned Luz Pichel, the mysterious ‘Madrileña’?
poet Miriam Martín and the Argentinian poets Daniel Durand, Martín Gambarotta, Marcelo Díaz and
Tomás Bartoletti.
The entry to Argentinian poetry is made through an analysis in linguicist terms of the poetry of Martin
Gambarotta done by Sergio Raimondi, a poet himself. In the subjects that inhabit Punctum, Seudo or
Angola, the language is experimented pathologically, as a consequence of the impossibility of naming and
recognizing one-self inside of the neoliberal regime. The grammatical articulations of past-present-future,
additionally, won’t be effective for keeping the historical-political experience (the linear temporality is
interrupted: “Sacó el cuchillo y en cualquier momento corta”). “Díptico para ser leído con mascara de
luchador mexicano”, de Marcelo Díaz, places us in a similar situation: prints of some “they” who appear
on a presumably ‘theirs’ place, with images of that space as a background ("el cartel azul y verde que dice
MOVISTAR" (116)) that recalls their past usurpation and contains a local? indigenous? population “que
juzgamos típic[a]” (11), “aunque no sepamos / típicos de qué, de pie y agradeciendo la llovizna”.
Neoliberalism and minor stories: if the language keeps, as use, that which the discourses of the neo-liberal
order mean to erase, how to look for “a new political language” (57)? If it does not remain, what to do?
The end of Raimondi’s text leaves us puzzled: is he proposing the liberation of linguistic uses, or rather
are we in front of the populist hypothesis of winning by naming?
The conflict caused by this question is precisely the object that articulates a work such as Mujer de
Manuela, written at the moment immediately prior to the victory of Ahora Madrid, and reviewed in
L/E/N/G/U/A/J/E/o by Carlos Rod. Experiment of writing & calque of Hombre de Cristina (Washington
Cucurto, 2013), Mujer de Manuela condenses “a super precise moment” (110), towards which the
Hombre and the Mujer seem to hold different positions: while Cucurto declares himself man of Cristina,
in the woman of MDM live together “allegiances and ironies” (113) that show the impossibility of
univocity in the here&nows, as well as the effort required in order to close what is lived in the shape of
‘History’. It is over this closure where Amparo Arróspide places La Kelpertina, by Tomás Bartoletti, a
poetry book that puts us in front of the act of naming, this time to look at what is “Argentinian” on the
Malvinas: “el bautismo del territorio nacional” (74), which functions granting nominal property to what
can only be immaterial, paradoxically using that no-place to build its core (“no es el con / tenido / lo es la
conchi / tución” (75)).
The article by Erea Fernández Folgueiras addresses the articulation of poetry and politics in reverse of
identity formation, departing from El Estado y él se amaron, written by Daniel Durand, poet on the side
of chaos and hot mess. If Raimondi looked for the slogan, Durand is recalled precisely from the side in
which naming is not about finding an “empty signifier” (Laclau), but about inscribing what is lived.
Fernández Folgueiras lists all of those nominations that build worlds and memories in El Estado y él se
amaron: "Mi madre, mamá, Gómez Ricardo, Pérez Héctor, Cristina, César, Martínez, Echeverry José
Pedro, Segovia (...)", reminding us, with the poet, that the proper noun is not necessarily the emptiest of
all the signifiers (not at least without a trick, as Laclau would have wanted). Conversely, on the one hand,
the proper noun would be the noun that makes more world-memory: stream of experiences; on the other,
it would be the dehorizontalizing conviction of whoever writes inside a literary field (“el poder en mi
apellido: Durand”: 64). The poet would not be able to stand on the side of the nation, but only on the side
which stacks worlds, a process by all means “more democratic (in the precise sense that it belongs more
to the people) because it contains more voices” (67-8).
“How would a popular verbal democracy be, in order to ensure the right and duty of every speaker or
communal core of speakers to take over their tongue (…)?” (6): this Seminario Euraca’s question, in the
“Greetings” (“Saludo”) to the readers, opened up a heterogeneous body of texts that, without seconding
any single theoretical position, propose practicable poetic-political chores to a citizenship on
emancipation of “centuries of lettered culture at the service of a few” (83). From a precarious horizon of
subsistence within the frame of the chronical crisis of the Spanish State, L/E/N/G/U/A/J/E/o conforms a
zone of utopian overexistance and resistance through the poetic, where participation, rather than
discipline, could always and foremost be readiness.