{"Affiliation":[{"label":"Affiliation","value":"Arts, Faculty of","attrs":{"lang":"en","ns":"http:\/\/vivoweb.org\/ontology\/core#departmentOrSchool","classmap":"vivo:EducationalProcess","property":"vivo:departmentOrSchool"},"iri":"http:\/\/vivoweb.org\/ontology\/core#departmentOrSchool","explain":"VIVO-ISF Ontology V1.6 Property; The department or school name within institution; Not intended to be an institution name."},{"label":"Affiliation","value":"French, Hispanic, and Italian Studies, Department of","attrs":{"lang":"en","ns":"http:\/\/vivoweb.org\/ontology\/core#departmentOrSchool","classmap":"vivo:EducationalProcess","property":"vivo:departmentOrSchool"},"iri":"http:\/\/vivoweb.org\/ontology\/core#departmentOrSchool","explain":"VIVO-ISF Ontology V1.6 Property; The department or school name within institution; Not intended to be an institution name."}],"AggregatedSourceRepository":[{"label":"Aggregated Source Repository","value":"DSpace","attrs":{"lang":"en","ns":"http:\/\/www.europeana.eu\/schemas\/edm\/dataProvider","classmap":"ore:Aggregation","property":"edm:dataProvider"},"iri":"http:\/\/www.europeana.eu\/schemas\/edm\/dataProvider","explain":"A Europeana Data Model Property; The name or identifier of the organization who contributes data indirectly to an aggregation service (e.g. Europeana)"}],"Campus":[{"label":"Campus","value":"UBCV","attrs":{"lang":"en","ns":"https:\/\/open.library.ubc.ca\/terms#degreeCampus","classmap":"oc:ThesisDescription","property":"oc:degreeCampus"},"iri":"https:\/\/open.library.ubc.ca\/terms#degreeCampus","explain":"UBC Open Collections Metadata Components; Local Field; Identifies the name of the campus from which the graduate completed their degree."}],"Creator":[{"label":"Creator","value":"Chatzivasileiou, Evangelia","attrs":{"lang":"en","ns":"http:\/\/purl.org\/dc\/terms\/creator","classmap":"dpla:SourceResource","property":"dcterms:creator"},"iri":"http:\/\/purl.org\/dc\/terms\/creator","explain":"A Dublin Core Terms Property; An entity primarily responsible for making the resource.; Examples of a Contributor include a person, an organization, or a service."}],"DateAvailable":[{"label":"Date Available","value":"2009-10-07T00:00:00","attrs":{"lang":"en","ns":"http:\/\/purl.org\/dc\/terms\/issued","classmap":"edm:WebResource","property":"dcterms:issued"},"iri":"http:\/\/purl.org\/dc\/terms\/issued","explain":"A Dublin Core Terms Property; Date of formal issuance (e.g., publication) of the resource."}],"DateIssued":[{"label":"Date Issued","value":"2001","attrs":{"lang":"en","ns":"http:\/\/purl.org\/dc\/terms\/issued","classmap":"oc:SourceResource","property":"dcterms:issued"},"iri":"http:\/\/purl.org\/dc\/terms\/issued","explain":"A Dublin Core Terms Property; Date of formal issuance (e.g., publication) of the resource."}],"Degree":[{"label":"Degree (Theses)","value":"Doctor of Philosophy - PhD","attrs":{"lang":"en","ns":"http:\/\/vivoweb.org\/ontology\/core#relatedDegree","classmap":"vivo:ThesisDegree","property":"vivo:relatedDegree"},"iri":"http:\/\/vivoweb.org\/ontology\/core#relatedDegree","explain":"VIVO-ISF Ontology V1.6 Property; The thesis degree; Extended Property specified by UBC, as per https:\/\/wiki.duraspace.org\/display\/VIVO\/Ontology+Editor%27s+Guide"}],"DegreeGrantor":[{"label":"Degree Grantor","value":"University of British Columbia","attrs":{"lang":"en","ns":"https:\/\/open.library.ubc.ca\/terms#degreeGrantor","classmap":"oc:ThesisDescription","property":"oc:degreeGrantor"},"iri":"https:\/\/open.library.ubc.ca\/terms#degreeGrantor","explain":"UBC Open Collections Metadata Components; Local Field; Indicates the institution where thesis was granted."}],"Description":[{"label":"Description","value":"This primarily theoretical study is situated within the field of Latin American Studies, since\r\nit examines poetry written in Spanish by two contemporary Latin American women. The\r\napproach develops concepts introduced by Derrida and Levinas to discuss their poems in\r\nrelation to feminist debates about identity and difference\/alterity. Many feminists believe\r\nthat the struggle for the emancipation of women must orient itself toward a politics that\r\naffirms their sexual identity as women or as lesbians. Others argue that such affirmations\r\nare problematic, because they are posited within a masculinist, heteronormative context\r\nand necessarily adopt the stereotypes and biases implicit in such a frame. This dissertation\r\nsupports the point of view of radical feminists, for whom maintaining a radical heterogeneity\r\nand difference in relation to this normative binary framework is the only way to avoid (re-)\r\nassimilation into phallocratic structures.\r\nThe first chapter provides a theoretical framework based on Derridean deconstruction and\r\nnotions of alterity and difference that enable the philosophical construction of a radical heterogeneity\r\ncalled here hetdsrography. This invented concept gives rise to other inventions of\r\ndifference and multiple alterities, creating an alternative to essentialist concepts of identity\r\nand otherness. The second chapter examines the Argentinian poet Diana Bellessi's Eroica\r\nand proposes a reading based on the radical heterogeneity of \"woman.\" Drawing on the\r\npolitical reality of los desaparecidos in Argentina, the unidentified woman is construed as\r\n\"disappearance.\" The third chapter applies a similar approach to a reading of the Chilean\r\npoet Soledad Farina's Albricia, developing the concept of impasse. The discussion focuses\r\non the deconstruction of Farina's homogeneous or essentialist category of lesbianism and\r\nproposes an-other, more radical hyperlesbianism that is indeterminate and exceeds essentialist\r\ndefinitions. Hyperfeminism\/lesbianism link women's and lesbians' emancipation to\r\nwider issues of democracy, justice and ethics, as discussed in the fourth and final chapter.","attrs":{"lang":"en","ns":"http:\/\/purl.org\/dc\/terms\/description","classmap":"dpla:SourceResource","property":"dcterms:description"},"iri":"http:\/\/purl.org\/dc\/terms\/description","explain":"A Dublin Core Terms Property; An account of the resource.; Description may include but is not limited to: an abstract, a table of contents, a graphical representation, or a free-text account of the resource."}],"DigitalResourceOriginalRecord":[{"label":"Digital Resource Original Record","value":"https:\/\/circle.library.ubc.ca\/rest\/handle\/2429\/13680?expand=metadata","attrs":{"lang":"en","ns":"http:\/\/www.europeana.eu\/schemas\/edm\/aggregatedCHO","classmap":"ore:Aggregation","property":"edm:aggregatedCHO"},"iri":"http:\/\/www.europeana.eu\/schemas\/edm\/aggregatedCHO","explain":"A Europeana Data Model Property; The identifier of the source object, e.g. the Mona Lisa itself. This could be a full linked open date URI or an internal identifier"}],"Extent":[{"label":"Extent","value":"17971021 bytes","attrs":{"lang":"en","ns":"http:\/\/purl.org\/dc\/terms\/extent","classmap":"dpla:SourceResource","property":"dcterms:extent"},"iri":"http:\/\/purl.org\/dc\/terms\/extent","explain":"A Dublin Core Terms Property; The size or duration of the resource."}],"FileFormat":[{"label":"File Format","value":"application\/pdf","attrs":{"lang":"en","ns":"http:\/\/purl.org\/dc\/elements\/1.1\/format","classmap":"edm:WebResource","property":"dc:format"},"iri":"http:\/\/purl.org\/dc\/elements\/1.1\/format","explain":"A Dublin Core Elements Property; The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource.; Examples of dimensions include size and duration. Recommended best practice is to use a controlled vocabulary such as the list of Internet Media Types [MIME]."}],"FullText":[{"label":"Full Text","value":"Hetaerography or Inventions of Radical Alterity: Reading Two Latin American Women's Poetry by E V A N G E L I A C H A T Z I V A S I L E I O U B . A . , York University, 1994 B . A , Aristotelio University of Thessaloniki, 1989 A T H E S I S S U B M I T T E D IN P A R T I A L F U L F I L M E N T O F T H E R E Q U I R E M E N T S F O R T H E D E G R E E O F D O C T O R O F P H I L O S O P H Y in T H E F A C U L T Y O F G R A D U A T E S T U D I E S (Department of French, Hispanic and Italian Studies) We accept this thesis as conforming to the required standard T H E U N I V E R S I T Y O F B R I T I S H C O L U M B I A July 2001 \u00a9 Evangelia Chatzivasileiou, 2001 In presenting this thesis in partial fulfilment of the requirements for an advanced degree at the University of British Columbia, I agree that the Library shall make it freely available for reference and study. I further agree that permission for extensive copying of this thesis for scholarly purposes may be granted by the head of my department or by his or her representatives. It is understood that copying or publication of this thesis for financial gain shall not be allowed without my written permission. Department of FZf.NCH H\\SPANIC huh nfiimN STUDIO The University of British Columbia Vancouver, Canada Date Qg-JQ- Ol DE-6 (2\/88) Abstract This primarily theoretical study is situated within the field of Lat in American Studies, since it examines poetry written in Spanish by two contemporary Lat in American women. The approach develops concepts introduced by Derrida and Levinas to discuss their poems in relation to feminist debates about identity and difference\/alterity. Many feminists believe that the struggle for the emancipation of women must orient itself toward a politics that affirms their sexual identity as women or as lesbians. Others argue that such affirmations are problematic, because they are posited within a masculinist, heteronormative context and necessarily adopt the stereotypes and biases implici t in such a frame. This dissertation supports the point of view of radical feminists, for whom maintaining a radical heterogeneity and difference in relation to this normative binary framework is the only way to avoid (re-) assimilation into phallocratic structures. The first chapter provides a theoretical framework based on Derridean deconstruction and notions of alterity and difference that enable the philosophical construction of a radical het-erogeneity called here hetdsrography. This invented concept gives rise to other inventions of difference and multiple alterities, creating an alternative to essentialist concepts of identity and otherness. The second chapter examines the Argentinian poet Diana Bellessi's Eroica and proposes a reading based on the radical heterogeneity of \"woman.\" Drawing on the poli t ical reality of los desaparecidos in Argentina, the unidentified woman is construed as \"disappearance.\" The third chapter applies a similar approach to a reading of the Chilean poet Soledad Farina's Albricia, developing the concept of impasse. The discussion focuses on the deconstruction of Farina's homogeneous or essentialist category of lesbianism and proposes a,n-other, more radical hyperlesbianism that is indeterminate and exceeds essen-tialist definitions. Hyperfeminism\/lesbianism link women's and lesbians' emancipation to wider issues of democracy, justice and ethics, as discussed in the fourth and final chapter. 11 Table Of Contents Abstract ii Preface vii Acknowledgments xiv Chapter I Introduction 1 Hetaerography, an Invention of a Radical Al ter i ty 1 Overview 1 Hetceroglossary: The Knot of In-Betweenness or Hetasrography's Diphthong <\u00a3 . 4 To Invent the Ghcest 20 The Diphthong Spooks 24 The \"Ethics\" and \"Politics\" of Heteerography and the Ghasst 25 Writ ing With-out Other(s) 31 Overview 31 The New Woi^ld Other or Otherness Wanted 32 To Promise: Language as Bread Given to the Gh&st 39 Itineraries 42 \"Methodology\" 43 Notes 47 Chapter II The Disappeared (Other): Reading Poems From Diana Bel-lessi's Eroica 50 i i i Overview 50 Footnotes of Dance: \"Methodological\" Notes 55 Footnotes of Dance: To Begin the Dance of Puppets and Strings 62 The \"Context\" of Diana Bellessi's Eroica 63 The Hyperfeminist Dance of the Puppet as Indeterminacy or as the Im-possible Woman 66 Dcedalus 73 Of Feminine Writing and Other Ruins 79 Hy(i)lography as Trauma 81 Beyond Feminine Writing as Weaving 85 Woman's Unique Face Effaced: An Excessive Ethics and a Hyperfeminism of the Figure-less 99 Footnotes of Dance: The Dance of the Disappeared 104 An Altar to the Ghaest: E l desaparecido and el trasladado 108 I Ghaest or I am the Other's Mouth: Ventriloquism 122 To Receive the Figureless Ghaest or To Commune the G-host 126 Capucha 128 Notes 131 Chapter III The Dead 3 8 n d or the Im-passable (Other) : Reading Poems F rom Soledad Farina's Albricia 134 Overview 134 \"Methodological\" Notes and Strategic Inventions of Impasse 140 iv The \"Context\" of Soledad Farina's Albricia 150 The Lesbian Literary \"Context\" of Albr ic ia 159 Albricia or the Gift of Justice: Faith in the Coming of the Other 169 Albr i c i a is a Gift of Justice 169 Faithfully Waiting Till Dawn 177 Loving the (Hyperlesbian) Other Passionately 191 Lengua as Valve or Death 191 Absolute Corn-Passion or the \"Ethics\" of Hyperlesbianism 203 Suspected to Be 218 Maran tha or To Pray 231 Notes 233 Chapter I V Conclus ion: W r i t i n g Stigmata 236 Post-Scriptum 244 Notes 247 Glossary 249 Notes 260 Works C i t e d 261 A p p e n d i x : The Poems 279 From Diana Bellessi's Eroica (1988) 279 First Poem 279 v Second Poem 285 Third Poem 286 From Soledad Farina's Albricia (1988) 291 Gabriela Mistral's Cited Poem 291 First Poem 291 Second Poem 293 Third Poem 294 Notes 295 vi Preface This study is situated at the intersections of several disciplines, including philosophy, l i t -erary cri t icism, feminist theory, religion and ethics. It is mainly concerned with alterity, as it is treated by two li t t le known Lat in American women poets, but incorporates refer-ences to a wide range of discussions on otherness. Although produced within a literature department by someone whose academic formation is principally in Hispanic Studies, the exploration I initiate here would not have been possible if my native language were not Greek (in so far as a \"native language\" can exist) and if I had not previously been trained in Classical Studies and in Theology. M y knowledge of Ancient Greek and Lat in and relative familiarity with theological and philosophical issues proved to be highly relevant. The outcome is not simply an interweav-ing of disciplines but also a constant intersecting of different languages and cultures. This is a \"meshwork,\" written in English by a Greek l iving in Canada about two poets who write in Spanish. It is composed of strands, mes-tizaje, \"interwoven (metissees), ill-woven (mal tissees), but woven (tissees) one into the other\" (Nancy, 1994b, 118). This m.al tissee text that slides between Spanish, Lat in , French, and Greek is written in English, in gringo: \"Gringo [is] the name [which Spanish-speaking people] use for the white American (who claims to be white), [and] derived from Griego, the Greek, who was in the past, the typical foreigner\" (Nancy, 1994b, 117). I write in gringo and I am Greek, that is, a foreigner. I would have been positioned as gringa \u2014 meaning foreigner, in general, and a woman \u2014 whether I wrote this study in English or Spanish or even Greek. Neither English nor Spanish is my native tongue; neither \"North American,\" nor \"Hispanic\" culture is my culture; I am (dis)loyal to more than one discipline and more than one genre of academic writing; I have studied in more than one department; \"back home\" I am accused of being a traitor for studying Hispanic language and literature(s) rather than Greek literature, for having Albanian blood, and for abandoning my country to pursue an education abroad. I do not belong: I am, like my study, mal tissee, gringa, Greek, a foreigner; I betray everyone \u2014 including myself\u2014 and wi l l claim that this may be the only way to betray no-one. vn The analysis presented here is also gringo, in the sense that, although concentrates on recent poetic works produced by two Lat in American women, it also goes beyond Hispanic Studies and the Hispanic world \u2014 boundaries and territories that are in any case problematic and porous. This project should be read as a theoretical, philosophical, ethico-political inquiry into issues of otherness and difference, framed by the ideas of Derrida and Levinas, rather than as a study of poetry written by an Argentinian poet named Diana Bellessi and a Chilean poet named Soledad Farina. The first chapter presents a theoretical, philosophical discussion of issues related to alter-ity and difference. It offers a critique of philosophico-theoretical economies that reduce alterity and difference to aberrations of identity. Against these economies, I propose two radically heterogeneous and undecidable \"concepts\" of otherness, hetaerography and the ghdsst, which both, inspired by Derrida's differance and his recent work on alterity, denote a number of spectral and uncanny effects. They stand for an unencompassable otherness and difference, or an inappropriable foreignness in general. The second chapter reads poems by Diana Bellessi, from her book Eroica (1988), and takes issue with this poetic discourse's essentialism that reduces difference to sexual or feminine difference and subsumes alterity under the essentialist and privileged categories of \"Woman\" and \"Mother.\" Intermingling the sexual with the ethico-political and borrowing from Argentina's poli t ical context of the disappeared, this chapter introduces an excessive (hyperfeminist), ghostly-ghastly otherness or a disappeared (other) that is inaccessible, in the sense that it is impossible to identify it with Bellessi's essentialist concept of \"Woman-Mother\" or with any self-present, existing and privileged pseudo-Other. In the third chapter I discuss Soledad Farina's poetry in her book Albricia (1988). Here, I am concerned with her text's enterprise to demarcate, and therefore restrict, alterity and difference by reducing them to the privileged category of sexuality, and in particular the identity or subjectivity of the \"Lesbian.\" This discourse's exclusive category of sexuality and the essentialist de-limit-ation \"Lesbian\" is haunted by what it excludes, its others. The issue of sexuality is discussed in conjunction with ethico-political issues, which in this case include politico-religious experiences of non-passage, such as Pinochet's fascist regime, and Spain's Catholic fervor in the Middle Ages which led to the expulsion of its vni religious and ethnic others. Allowing the l imit (\"border\") of sexuality to be permeated by the others that it excludes produces another figure of excessive alterity, the hyperlesbian, \"who\" is impossible to de-term-ine essentially, and therefore remains inaccessible. This hyperlesbian alterity illustrates difference as non-passage, impasse or impassable, showing how all identity and self-determination conserves within itself its own self-difference, self-prohibition, self-exclusion or impossibility-impassability. In sum, each chapter of this study proposes a fugitive, structurally deferred otherness and difference that always escapes the circumscription of ontological \"borders\" or prisons and remains foreign (a haunting ghcest) to all projects that strive to confine it within a definition and essentially assimilate it. The choice of Diana Bellessi and Soledad Farina needs justification since both these two poets are fairly new and so far there has been nothing written about their work. It wi l l become clear that my interest in their work stems from the fact that they both belong to an \"emerging\" generation that attempts to challenge the previous Lat in American literary canon, in which women, gay and lesbian writers, including poets, remained invisible. Be l -lessi and Farina also both deal with themes, such as sexual difference, sexuality, femininity, lesbianism, which were excluded from the literature produced by their male predecessors, who were mostly concerned with more general issues of class or poli t ical oppression in Lat in America . I am interested in this poetry because it comes from, and speaks with the voice of the excluded, as well as achieving formal sophistication. Both women's work is fascinating, not only because it announces a challenge to the previ-ous male-dominated canon coming from women and lesbian poets, but also because their challenge is expressed in powerful language, using new images and tropes. I espouse and support Bellessi's and Farina's attempts to resist and undo the cultural marginalization, invisibil i ty or silence to which women, lesbians, gays and other \"minorities\" have been confined by most previous writers and literary critics in Lat in America . There is no doubt that both Bellessi and Farina respond to a long-awaited need to speak up and act against the marginalization of women and lesbians. To use a familiar image derived from Lat in America's poli t ical past, the male literary canon had \"vanished\" women and lesbian po-ets from cultural sight, converting them into disappeared victims. I am not simply using ix metaphors here. It could be said that the previous canon and its supporters maintained their own cultural prisons, camps, and graves into which women, lesbians, gays and other \"minorities\" were thrown or buried alive, effaced or defaced: in this sense, women and lesbians must be added to the list of Lat in America's countless missing. They were also its desaparecidos(\/as), displaced, prohibited, pronounced dead, annihilated, scarred; they were both disappeared others and impassable others. Chapter Two and Three of the present study are entitled \"The Disappeared (Other)\" and \"The Im-passable (Other)\" respectively, alluding to the missing woman and the forbidden or displaced lesbian in relation to Lat in America's literary canon. This is my way of paying homage to the courage of Bellessi's and Farina's poetry and an attempt to commemorate the women and lesbians who haunt all the inventions of radical alterity which I construct throughout this study. A l l these inventions conserve the imprint of the defaced woman and the silenced lesbian. However, their poetry raises the issue of essentialism, to which both Bellessi's and Farina's poetic discourses fall prey to in their attempts to protect the alterity of the feminine and of lesbianism. Although I align myself unconditionally with their efforts to safeguard the oth-erness of women and of lesbians, I nonetheless disagree that the solution to their disappear-ance or repression lies in the reduction of their alterity to an essentialist self-determination or self-identity called \"woman\" or \"lesbian.\" The violence committed against women and lesbians within and beyond Lat in American must not only be eradicated and never al-lowed to exist again, it must also become absolutely impossible to repeat it in any form of exclusion. On the one hand, this study is mobilized by the same cause that inspires Bellessi's and Farina's poetic discourses, on the other hand, it diverges from them regarding the way this cause can be furthered. M y critique of Bellessi's and Farina's poetic discourses is a feminist critique and a call for a feminist-queer-activism., which I wi l l later designate as hyperfeminism or hyperlesbianism. Ul t imately it questions the poli t ical effectiveness of Bellessi's and Farina's essentialist approach to the problem of women's or the lesbians' disappearance or repression. Does their solution manage to eliminate their marginalization or safeguard their alterity from any projects of assimilation that would end up displacing them or vanishing them once more? Is the transformation of feminine or lesbian alterity into an identity that mirrors (and reproduces, inverted) the displacing agent (in this case the heterosexual male-dominated canon) polit ically useful to women and lesbians or to the feminist movement in general? How can the confinement of women and lesbians to a hierarchical or dialectical system of displacements help their emancipation? As a feminist and a woman, I find myself not at all being at ease with restriction to a phallocentric system that excludes me and represses me, or conversely makes me repeat and consolidate it as its mirroring and servile other. I say servile, because in the end I am subservient to the same paternal law that excluded me in the first place, and thus consolidate it further. Therefore, I vanish once more into this law's dialectical prison, I become again displaced, defaced, silenced and invisible, just as I was before: the disappeared woman\/lesbian. In Un poquito de justicia, A d a M a r i a Isazi-Diaz (1996) celebrates this inversion as mu-jerismo, the counterpart of machismo, based on the Spanish for woman. The ideology implici t in this inversion is supposedly no longer machista (no longer from the male or the macho point of view), but adapts the point of view of the previously excluded woman and is allegedly an emancipatory ideology. In my view, mujerismo does not emancipate women or lesbians, but subordinates them and imprisons them to the same phallocracy or machista ideology \u2014 albeit in inverted terms \u2014 and negates them, violates them and disappears them once more. I share the opinion of Chantal Mouffe, that as feminists whose goal is \"the struggle for the equality of women,\" (Mouffe, 1992, 382), we need to consider that such a goal should consist in the transformation of all the discourses, practices and social relations where the category \"woman\" is constructed in a way that implies subordination. Feminism, for me, is the struggle for the equality of women. But this should not be understood as a struggle for realizing the equality of a definable empirical group with a common essence and identity, women, but rather as a struggle against the multiple forms in which the category \"woman\" is constructed in subordination. (Mouffe, 1992, 382) Mouffe urges us as feminists, to direct our struggle against any form of discourse (whether machista or its essentialist counterpart, mujerista) that constructs women and lesbians in subordination: \"the critique of essentialism and all its different forms: humanism, rational-ism, universalism, far from being an obstacle to the formulation of a feminist democractic project is indeed the very condition of its possibility\" (Mouffe, 1992, 382). This feminist xi democractic project cannot be content with the inversion of a dialectical or hierarchical economy in which the feminine principle replaces phallocracy, while the phallocratic hege-mony \u2014 albeit camouflaged \u2014 and woman's subordination to it st i l l remain intact. In order for a feminist democratic project to be polit ically effective, it must seek to overthrow the hierarchy itself, to exceed the hegemonic system that masters or suppresses women and lesbians, whether in an overt or disguised way. In the following chapters this feminist democratic project as overthrow or excess of the hegemony responsible for the subordination of women and lesbians is called hyperfeminism or hyperlesbianism. This concept of a hyperfeminist democracy is connected to the fact that Bellessi and Farina are writing at a very important historical moment in Lat in America. It is not coincidental that their generation is becoming visible just as dictatorships are beginning to collapse and be called to account \u2014 the most notorious example of this being Pinochet in Chile. The new generation of writers prides itself on being witness to the downfall of phallocratic or machista literary hegemony in Lat in America's canon, coinciding with the end of fascism at least in some countries and the return of so-called democracy. Their poetry considers itself to be a subversion of patriarchal hegemonies in politics and literature. M y theorization of hyperfeminist\/lesbian democracy would be impossible without Bellessi's and Farina's feminist poetics. This \"excessive\" feminist democracy, situated between po-etics, ethics, and politics, stems from their feminist project of subverting patriarchal hege-monies and canons. But it also differs from it , since this hyperfeminist democracy implies that women's and the lesbians' escape from any form of subordination is not possible through a mere inversion of the old, violent patriarchal structure, but only through going beyond it. I share their feminist goals but, differ on how to approach these goals. I wi l l suggest that their projects lack polit ical effectiveness, in not being able to avoid ultimately the subjection of women and lesbians to the same old phallocentric or heterosexist law. But I do not dismiss their demands or deny their poli t ical interests and aims. In the end, it is a matter of choosing between a feminism based on identity politics and a feminism oriented towards the radical heterogeneity of women and lesbians, not only in their difference from men or heterosexual women, but among and within themselves. The construction of hyper-xn feminism\/lesbianism represents a preference for radical heterogeneity following the \"path\" of indeterminacy, aporia, and excess, against all hierarchical and exclusionary structures including oppositional inversion or dialectics. While the essentialism espoused by Bellessi and Farina may be considered \"strategic,\" in the sense developed by Diana Fuss, I wi l l draw attention to the dangers of that strategy. As Chantal Mouffe points out: \"we must be aware of the fact that (those) feminist goals can be constructed in many different ways, according to the mult ipl ici ty of discourses in which they can be framed: Marxis t , l iberal, conservative, radical-separatist, radical-democractic, and so on. There are, therefore, by necessity many feminisms\" (Mouffe, 1992, 382). The poems by Bellessi and Farina permit me to connect Lat in America's poli t ical and social reality with questions of gender, sexuality, sexual difference, and so on. The associations I attempt to establish here would perhaps have shocked the previous male, misogynist literary canon; but they also point to issues the \"new\" poetic generation itself tends to exclude or forget, namely questions of other oppressions that must be never forgotten, or dismissed as irrelevant. The images in Bellessi's and Farina's poetry also allow me to propose a number of deconstructive \"concepts\" related to alterity and difference, such as hetcerography, the ghcest, the disappeared, the transferred, the closet, valva, etc. which, although inspired by and greatly indebted to Derrida's deconstruction, have not been theorized as such before either within deconstructive theory or in the field of Hispanic Studies. This study causes deconstruction wander into Lat in Amer ica , while showing that Lat in America , like a phantasmatic foreigner, haunts deconstruction. In attempting this mestizaje, in making both specters (ghassts) possess each other, it wi l l no longer be possible to know with certainty which one is the foreigner, and in whose land, or what might arise from this strange combination that makes the one absolutely open and hospitable to the other. Xlll Acknowledgments M y enormous gratitude to a number of individuals who have made this dissertation possible cannot be expressed simply with a short list of acknowledgments. These individuals have left their profound imprint on the dissertation itself. I am most indebted to my supervisor Valerie Raoul for her insightful and critical comments, turns of phrase and images and suggestions of style as well as her patience and tolerance with the anxiety that accompanies the writing of a dissertation. Many thanks to Lorraine Weir, a constant interlocutor whose polit ical and theoretical keenness shaped much of this study. I am grateful to Isaac Rubio who, during my graduate studies, never failed to remind me of materialist aspects, and shared with me invaluable dialogues, different points of view and debates with remarkable intellectual wisdom and openness. I owe enormous gratitude and love to Kenneth Golby, my first professor of Spanish literature and a very good friend, whose passion for poetry, sensitivity and humanity, his enthusiasm, courage and friendship were so generously given to me. Every single line of this dissertation would have been impossible without his inspiring presence in my intellectual and personal life. I am thankful to the government of Canada and the Social Sciences and Humanities Re-search Council of Canada for a research grant. I also thank the University of Br i t i sh Columbia for providing me wi th The Graduate Student Fellowship and other grants dur-ing my graduate studies. I owe heartfelt thanks and the deepest love to my parents, Vassi l iki and D i m i t r i Chatzi -vasileiou, who taught me an unforgettable lesson of generosity and who, despite their poverty, gave everything for their children's education. M y profound love also goes to my son Mario for being in my life and for reminding me of life, and to my partner, friend and great interlocutor Ray Blaak, for asking unthinkable questions, and sharing with me hopes, frustration and the need to overcome imperfection that sparks better understanding and more thinking. xiv For Ken, Vassiliki, Dimitri, Ray and Mario xv Chapter I Introduction Hetaerography, an Invention of a Radical Alterity \"Come . I shal l show you the j udgemen t \/o f the great w h o r e . \" . . . T h i s \" C o m e , \" I do not know what it is... Jacques D e r r i d a 1 . . . it seems that one could only invent it in its very otherness, at the moment of address. Jacques D e r r i d a 2 Overview The title of the first section of this introductory chapter indicates that this part of the study wi l l dwell on the justification of hetterography as a construct, or an invention, that designates an inaccessible alterity. Before proceeding to examine the philosophical, l in-guistic and etymological basis of its undecidable play, I wi l l explain in general terms what I understand as hetaerography. In a very schematic manner \u2014 it wi l l later be elaborated further \u2014 hetaerography is an invention to convey a radical and aporetic alterity. This alterity cannot be understood ontologically as a being, an essence, presence, identity, con-sciousness, person, sex\/uality, experience and so on. Hetaerography is simply a structural condition of making something both possible and impossible, of enabling while disabling the constitution of a being or an essence. Above a l l , it is not meant to be conflated with any particular concept or category of Other , 3 whether this Other is identified as Woman, or as Homosexuality, Humanity and so on. Not only do I not wish to reduce hetaerography to any singular Other-being, even more radically I do not wish to give it a being and say that hetaerography is or is not. Furthermore, I want to insinuate that it is the very decon-stitution of being. As we shall also see, it cannot even be defined as the notion or category \"other,\" for it harbors within itself two different others: in relation to, and beginning with itself, it is therefore even other than itself. Hetaerography is also heterogeneous in what concerns itself. 1 The reason I have resorted to inventing such an undecidable construct is that I wish to suggest an alterity that cannot yet be identifiable as such as an alterity. Thus, it cannot be appropriable in determinations such as Woman-Other, Lesbian-Other, or any concept of Other, which some discourses single out, universalize and strive to reclaim and emancipate. These essentialist Alterities st i l l move within identity politics, for they are already pre-established as such. They also become exemplary and unique sites of Otherness whose singularity excludes other others. For instance, some so-called feminist discourses give priority to Woman. This means that what cannot fit into this essentialist category of Other becomes secondary, less urgent, or a lesser other than the Woman-Other. It is consequently driven out, expelled from this privileged space of feminine Al ter i ty considered exclusively worthy of liberation. Hetaerography can be no unique Other. It is, rather, the very structure of disordering such a unique Other, when this Al ter i ty appears to close upon itself as a self-identical category (in the singular name, for example, of Woman). M y invention takes issue with an identity discourse which is disguised as alterity or difference discourse but in which Alter i ty and Difference can sti l l be identified with this or that category and therefore are nothing but a pseudo-Otherness and a false Difference. I call this identity discourse Allocentr ism, in which centrality, privilege and priority are awarded to, or reserved for, the One and exclusive Other. I designate as homoiophylophilia \u2014 a term that wi l l later be explained in detail \u2014 the reduction of Al ter i ty into the selfsame of a universal concept of Other, whether this Other is a gender, a sexuality, or any specific Heterogeneity or Other transformed into a subject. Homoiophylophilia \u2014 against which I wi l l counterpose hetaerography and its various mutations \u2014 is a discourse that attempts to assimilate the Other by determining it as such and by identifying it . The structure of hetaerography owes its theoretical basis to deconstruction and commu-nicates with a number of Derridean \"concepts\" of difference. Hetaerography's focus is on alterity \u2014 although difference and otherness are inseparable. Hetaerography's play with at least two different others reiterates the play of differance between at least two differences (difference-deferral), while, beyond differance, hetaerography is more explicit ly concerned with the other. W i t h differance what is interrogated is a metaphysics of presence, identity, and so on, in any of their forms, while with hetaerography I wi l l specifically critique a 2 metaphysics of Al ter i ty and Difference when they are converted into essential instances, into as such, into categories of presence monopolized by a unique Other. In this section I wi l l explain mostly the undecidable play of the invention of hetaerogra-phy between two others: heteros and hetaeros. I wi l l recall the etymological as well as philosophical, \"ethical\" and \"polit ical\" significations and ramifications of these two words. They are connected to a relationship between hospitality and hostility and hostage tak-ing, between host and guest, and wil l render a structure denoting an essentialist Other's self-estrangement or self-expropriation that I wi l l call the ghasst. This is another invention of non-appropriable alterity. It is a concatenation of host, ghost, guest and het<aerography, via its diphthong ae. In this fashion, questions of Derridean writing as difference are linked with an \"ethics\" and \"politics\" of ghcEstly otherness that has not yet assumed a figure, or a face that has not yet become anything or anyone at a l l , remaining therefore always other, a guest or a ghost, deferred, fugitive and absolutely non-assimilable. The diphthong ae of hetaerography insinuates a heterogeneity which is more originary and radically other than the metaphysical concepts of the Others to be deconstructed, therefore I have placed emphasis on this ligature. I wi l l be playing with this diphthong because, like the a of differance, it hints at an inaudible diacritical alterity between two others. The diphthong's letters mirroring each other provide me with a graphic representation of the spectral game of specularity and exemplarity, the return of an essentialist Other to its selfsame, to its own, to the proper, the return home through the detour to another other. This return is simultaneously a self-estrangement, a deferral, one's straying away from oneself. The return as detour is denoted by the a special character I have created by breaking the in-between spine of the diphthong ae. The t^z also implies the constitution of oneself as trauma (as oneself being one self and other), which is playfully signified through the word a ^ f e e . In a ^ t e I transform the specular selfsame of ae into its crack, the detour of The a ^ t e is also an allusion to Derrida's r x ; , or putting a metaphysical concept under erasure \u2014 in this case the concept of the singular Other. Further, the a ^ t e is intended to suggest that hetaerography is an undecidable structure that exceeds the specular or oppositional two, the either\/or of dialectics. This excess would be presupposed in an ideal (but impossible in the context of a thesis) formatting of the 3 two sections of this introduction. The reader should imagine the text to be cut into two parallel columns presented across from each other on the page, representing a self-reflexive ae. The blank space in between these two columns would represent a cut, as i f the se were severed by an invisible Another, supplementary column, the second section of this introduction, would be thought of as if running vertically on the page, again interrupting the specular game of the first section. The visual effect would be three separate columns as a ^ t e is also presented as self-wound(ing), as if it were itself ghostly inhabited and traumatized by the other it speculates upon, tending towards its assimilation. This master discourse is wounded by the ghcest or the other it presumes to discuss as its subject. Hetceroglossary: The Knot of In-Betweenness or Hetdsrogra-phy's Diphthong CB plek: blend, fold; braid, twist, weave. This [Indo-European] root has two main offshoots, changing from p to f to b . . . (I) The p forms. From Greek, a number of rhetorical terms, ploce: a weaving of repeti-tions through a passage, symploce: a combination of anaphora.. .anadiplosis: folding back... L[atin] plectere, plexus: fold, weave, plexus, solar plexus: network of nerves behind the belly, \"sun\" ofthe abdominal nervous system.. .plat, pleach, pleat, plait; p l i -able, pliant, plight, as in sorry plight (the gh from blending with plight: pledge, exercise, from... [OldEnglish] plegan, whence also play\/ complicate, duplicate. . . implicate; replica, replicate, supplicate, supplicant, supple, supplement... (II) The f forms. Lfatin] flectere, flexurn. bend. flex...flexion,...inflection, reflect... flask.. .fiasco: first a spoiled flask, used for cheap liquor, flax, its fibers woven... From the Germanic base, fol, came E[nglish] fo ld . . . (III) The b forms. Sp[anish], dubloon, doblon. double, double entendre. Fr[ench] double entente: twofold meaning... exactly In this sense, my discourse on this non-appropriable alterity Joseph T . Shir ley 4 4 I wi l l begin thinking of the invention \"hetaerography\" by focusing on its diphthong 35 , which makes this word sound paradoxically and simultaneously both familiar and unfa-mil iar to our ears. This double play between familiarity and strangeness is also one of the undecidable effects that affect even the term hetaerography itself. O n the one hand, it gives one the sense that hetaerography can be recognized as a form of heterogeneity, while on the other hand the diphthong ae of hetcEro insinuates a strange alterity: this is an-other, quite different heterogeneity. Through the diphthong something does not quite fit with what we are accustomed to defining as heteros or other. Through this ligature we cannot yet identify that hetceros is truly other. We cannot be absolutely certain of such an other, at least as a conceptual or even grammatical identity. Hetaerography, through this diphthong, is first of all a grammatical, nominal, and conceptual impropriety. There are two structural and inseparable \"logics\" implici t in hetaerography, which are in-tertwined and which must always be kept in mind: 1) The first concerns the idea that hetaerography is a structure of alterity, the \"law\" that gives rise to concepts and to any es-sentialist notions of Other; as such a structural \"law,\" it exceeds any category of Other and all oppositions. 2) The second \"logic\" derives from the name or the concept hetaerography itself. Because hetaerography cannot become another self-identical category of alterity that would close in itself and simply replace another selfsame Other, it must also be other to what concerns itself. Hetaerography is subject to its own self-deconstruction: it is other than Other. These two \"logics\" are of great importance here and wi l l be put to work in all of hetaerography's variants in this chapter and those that follow. They not only com-prise my methodological modality for deconstructing all metaphysical notions of Otherness, but also propose an indeterminate alterity that exceeds any attempt at identification and therefore at appropriation. I have begun to explain hetaerography through its mark of difference-otherness, the diph-thong ae that insinuates an-other impossible and inaccessible other. Whi le doing this, in a parallel fashion I wi l l be exploring hetaerography's etymological and philosophical com-plexity, and its theoretical points of departure. To mitigate this complexity this section is divided into shorter passages, preceded by the definitions of a number of concepts whose prefix is the Greek word heteros for other. In this way, but without necessarily dwelling 5 on these definitions, I wi l l expose and discuss some of hetaerography's \"ramifications\" and \"attributes,\" as if I were composing a hetasroglossary, an inventory of my invention. Of course, this inventory is a false one, for hetaerography is not a fixed category with this or that attribute that can be inventoried. However, I have already started this presumed inventory by giving here the root plek, to allude to hetaerography's com-plex-ity and to the diphthongal embrace of ae wi thin this word. The root plek is interesting, because it relates the ligature ae and hetaerography with notions that wi l l appear in this and in subsequent chapters, such as the play (including the puppet or oscillating play), the pledge or promise of the other, replication, and most significantly the double or twofold bind, in short, the indeterminacy which is conserved in the duplicity of the a*\"te and in al l the structures of hetaerography throughout this study. The diphtong ae is located exactly in the middle of the word hetceros. In due time I wi l l discuss the play between e and ae also occurring at the word's midpoint. Derrida writes of the hymen that it is a structure of indeterminacy, \"a medium located between the two . . . What counts here is the between, the in-betweeness of the hymen . . . Right ly or wrongly, the etymology of 'hymen' is often traced to a root u that can be found in the Lat in suo, suere (to sew) and in hyphos (tissue). Hymen might then mean a li t t le stitch (syuman) (syuntah, sewn, siula, needle; schuh, sew; suo).n Hymen is related to \"uphaind (to weave, spin \u2014 the spider web \u2014 machinate), . . . [to] humphos (textile, spider, web, net, the text of a work . . . and . . . [to] humnos (a weave, later a weave of a song, by extension a wedding song or a song of mourning) . . . The hymen is thus a sort of textile\" (Derrida, 1981, 212-13). 5 Like the undecidable hymen that weds and separates, the ligature ae of hetaerography is a plexus that spells out in-betweenness. It is a li t t le stitch that holds together and differen-tiates not only a word \u2014 the word hetaerography \u2014 but also different concepts of other. Being the in-between space or the distance that separates two different others, heteros and hetceros, but without identifying with either of the two, the diphthong designates an inter-stit ial alterity that has not yet been defined: it is in-between this other and that other. It is their interim where no other has yet been constituted as such. The diphthong suggests an alterity that is as yet no-thing, has not yet come into being and cannot even be called other. 6 Here I am connecting hetaerography with the hymen and a number of other Derridean con-structs such as differance, archi-trace, archi-writing and so on. Through the differential mark of its diphtong 33 , I am attempting to articulate hetaerography as an invention of alterity based on what Derrida calls the play of in-between, entre or spacing and inter-val. 6 In plain words, hetaerography is the Other that is not yet. The not-yet is the keyword here. Not-yet-Other means this Other is not-yet transformed into anything at all ; it is not-yet named as the identity of \"Other,\" is not-yet an essence or a recognizable being. It remains always non-identifiable, that is, always deferred, always other, always heterogeneous. For example, in an allocentric context of retrieving and rehabilitating the Other, recognizing it or naming it as the female Other, it can be said that Woman is while she-is-not-yet. This wi l l be an-other other that the female Heteros is: Woman is absolutely hettero-geneous to \"herself.\" Like Derrida's archi-trace, but in the context of deconstructing an essentialist Other, hetaerography is intended to express the following min imal synthesis: any Other (whether called Woman, (m)Other, Lesbian, or victimized Other, and so on) appears as a self-identity or as essence through its self-refraction into another other. The self-identical Other \u2014 again, let us say for instance Woman, to simplify \u2014 retains in its \"selfsameness\" the mark of another other. It is therefore never self-present but always already divided and self-diverted. It is always already not-yet determinable and other than a metaphysi-cal, unique and self-identical Other. To tease the Levinasian expression \"Otherwise than Being,\" let us say that hetaerography is an other otherwise than any essentialist Other. No unique name of Other can monopolize hetaerography. Because it exceeds and makes possible all names and categories of the Other, it is precisely a more radical alterity than any exclusive concept of Other. Not One privileged Other, or dominant and essentialist category of Al ter i ty can appropriate for itself this radical otherness designated as het-aerography. Hetaerography is the force of not-yet, refraction and interruption by which a singular and hierarchically exclusive Other is constituted. As such, hetaerography is the very possibility of this unique entity or concept of Other that under the singularity of its name comes to dominate and exclude other others. To give one more example, in reading Diana Bellessi's poetry and deconstructing its feminine essentialism or Allocentr ism I wi l l argue that Woman becomes a singular and most imperative value of Otherness and Dif-7 ference when she is disappeared as such a predominant Other and as a privileged figure of difference. Hetaerography cannot be attached to any particular Other or to any particular Difference. Consequently, by emphasizing its differential mark, the diphthong ae, situated at the heart of hetaeros, I attempt to insinuate more than one other. Hetaeros is other than simply heteros. The diphthong is a type of medium, in-between all circumscribed notions of Other that posit themselves as determined categories. I do not write \"heterography.\" I play with two (ae) and even more than two Others and therefore I write \"hetaerography.\" Both the word and its diphthong remark on the \"logic\" of alterity, whereby there is never a determinable Other in herself, himself, itself, just as \"[t]here is no metaphysical concept in and of itself\" (Derrida, 1982a, 329). In effect, one can say that a fixed and privileged concept of Other cannot appear without its difference from, and even opposition to, other categories of alterity that give it form: \"no concept is itself, and consequently in itself, metaphysical, outside of the overall textual operation in which it is inscribed\" (Derrida, 1972, 42). Because hetaerography is neither a unique Other nor its opposite pole, but their difference that defines them \u2014 i.e. the fact that they can never appear unrelated or in and of themselves \u2014 hetaerography's diphthong also alludes to an undecidability of n-either this n-or that, and an in-betweenness that threatens all metaphysical determinations of Other, as well as all oppositions of fixed terms. In the duplicity and plexus of its diphthong, hetaerography \"outwits and undoes all ontologies, al l philosophemes, al l manners of dialectics. It outwits them and \u2014 as a cloth, a tissue, a medium again \u2014 it envelops them, turns them over, and inscribes them\" (Derrida in the context of the \"hymen\" adjusted to hetaerography; 1981, 215). Caputo might have called this hetaerographic in-betweenness \"a heteronomic difference . . . not [as] multiplicity, but alterity . . . [I]n this difference . . . [ total ization is . . . destroyed . . . by an unencompassable other which throws the same into confusion, so that the same and the other cannot fold into unity\" (Caputo, 1993a, 59). In my context, hetaerography would be such an \"unencompassable other(ness),\" dispersing any \"selfsame\" category of Other. Heterography: Spelling that differs from current standard usage; spelling, as in modern 8 English, in which a given letter or combination of letters does not always represent the same word. (Webster, 1988, 633) I wi l l now justify this differential spelling or misspelling of hetaerography, making use of the etymology of the word(s) \"hetasros\" and other philosophical and linguistic aspects of the diphthong 33 . The definition of misspelling quoted above to introduce this discus-sion, which is incidentally called heterography, is not to be confused with the structure of hetaerography. Hetaerography, marked with the diphthong ae, is not simply a mispro-nunciation, a mis-conception, and a misplacement of the terms heteros-hetaeros. However, with the above definition I suggest that misspelling, phonetic and etymological mistakes are nothing but some of hetaerography's effects, that affect even the name hetaerography itself. Hetaerography misspells and mis-conceives the selfsame term heteros or any unique concept of Other. The misconception of \"hetaerography\" also exercises its effects on the word \"other,\" in so far as the word \"other\" behaves as a grammatical and conceptual unity, a fixed category identical to itself. Here, I take issue with the unovocality of the word \"other.\" In discourses on alterity the term \"other\" is taken as a fact and is often used without questioning its self-identity as a concept or as a grammatical category. The \"other,\" is assumed to be a given as if one knows beforehand what the word or concept \"other\" means or \"is.\" Such discourses presuppose, at least conceptually and lexically, the term or definition \"other\" as an essence and a self-identity already pre-established. The \"other\" already \"is\" something (in this case, a univocal term). The \"is\" here denotes that the other has come to be situated, fixed or has become a presence, an identity. The \"other\" is an essentialist category. 7 From here on, one can easily take the next step. If one already has posited the \"other\" and knows what the other \"is\" \u2014 for example, a univocal and self-identical concept \u2014 one can also claim that the other is also a particular gender, a particular being, a particular species (human, for instance), a particular minority, a particular sexuality, a particular race, and so on. One then proceeds to establish not only the essence of the \"other,\" but a series of fixed essences and categories that strip the other of its alterity and convert it into an identity (for instance, the identity of Woman, Black, Indian, Lesbian, etc., including the identity \"other\") from which other others are excluded. The play and misspelling of 9 hetaeros, beyond the unique concept of \"the other,\" also questions all these assumptions, making the other sound hetasrogeneous, (at least) double and sti l l unfamiliar to us. I wi l l keep returning to this very important aspect of hetaerography. W h y does the diphthongal knot ae, this alterity marked in hetaerography, fascinate me? Certainly, it is because it misspells and misconceives heteros, conveying an unrecognizable, not-yet determinable, and perhaps monstrous and spectral Other: a misconception. But the same diphthong, the same mistake, is interesting because it also indicates a play of interrupted specularity and resonance. The suspension of reflection is of great importance here because in the second chapter of this study it wi l l be seen at work in Bellessi's poems as ghostly replica-tion, figuration, ventriloquism, etc. Let us patiently examine the two letters ae that pretend to mirror each other impeccably. First , however, I wi l l very schematically present here (and later in more detail) the following explanation. In Greek the ligature ae can be phonetically rendered as e. If one were to pronounce the word \"hetaerography,\" one would say it as \"heterography,\" that is, one would mispronounce it . In this case, the difference between heteros and hetaeros is lost phonetically but not graphically. One can tell the difference between the two only when the word \"hetaerography\" is written. There are two things that this reveals through the fact that this alterity or difference is constructed so that it st i l l remains unspoken. 1) M y first aim is to imply an other without a voice yet, s t i l l unheard and unidentifiable as a vociferous and vict imized object of lack with only claims and needs. The muteness of hetaerography suggests an other that has no voice and is nowhere to be posited yet to speak (up), particularly as a mouthpiece to a louder Voice and to a supposedly superior Subject that pretends to emancipate the other, restore its speech, and protect it from extinction. In a sense, in its silent diphthong, hetaeros is like Spivak's \"quite other\" \"that cannot speak\" (Spivak, 1994a, 104). The mute hetaeros is not resonance or amplification: it is absolutely inaccessible and impossible to assimilate as an amplifier of an even more loudmouthed voice, the voice of the saviour of a helpless and impotent v ic t im. 2) A t a second level I attempt to articulate another very complex relation of failed reflec-tion, representation and echo. This second relation draws on Derrida's deconstruction of the phonologocentric idea in which writing has a specular and lesser value than speech. 10 The written sign, as the sign of a sign, mirrors and resonates a presumably fully-present speech. Note that this relationship between speech and writing is almost equivalent to the hierarchical relation established between the Voice of an all-encompassing and presumably self-adequate Subject and its other \u2014 its object of emancipation \u2014 which is used as a narcissistic amplifier to consolidate its own superior Self and Voice that allegedly liberates aphonic victims in need. Allocentr ism and phonocentrism are intertwined here. For Der-rida, the fact that writing repeats and reverberates speech perverts and refracts speech as supposedly self-present and self-adequate. Consequently, beyond a self-identical speech and writing as its image and satellite, this unaccomplished specularity and failed repre-sentation constitute the difference from which both speech and writing originate and upon which they depend: In this play of representation, the point of or ig in becomes ungraspable. There are things like reflecting pools, and images, an infinite reference from one to the other, but no longer a source, a spr ing. There is no longer a s imple or ig in . For what is reflected is spl i t in itself and not only as an addi t ion to itself of its image. T h e reflection, the image, the double, spli ts what i t doubles. T h e or ig in of the speculation becomes a difference. (Derr ida , 1976, 36) Hetaerography writes but does not speak. Like Derrida's difference as differance, hetaerog-raphy is a heterography, \"a kind of gross spelling mistake . . . a mute irony\" (Derrida on differance^ a, 1982c, 3). The duplicity of hetaerography's diphthong splits and doubles. It refracts a unique Other as a \"selfsame\", for the word hetasros writes ironically two different others: i.e. heteros and hetasros. No Other can yet speak and be retrieved and appropri-ated as voice or as its lack, that is, as the essentialist category of the vict im-Other coded as deprived of speech. Hetaerography is the quiet alterity and\/or difference on which both Others, heteros and hetaeros, depend. To summarize and simplify the two levels of the diphtongal play to which I have referred above: 1) Hetaerography is the yet-unspoken alterity and\/or difference from which both (and any) others originate; 2) writing here, which comprises the second half of hetaerog-raphy, is not taken in its colloquial sense as graphic representation. In Derridean terms hetaerography's writ ing is the alterity and\/or difference, the mute trace that intervenes between heteros and hetaeros and between writing and speech. The key word here is again the \"between,\" that has already been alluded to. It is the not-yet, the delay, the spacing (trace, etc.) of the ligature ae, a hymeneal medium or mute intervention in-between one 11 Other and an-Other, in-between heteros and hetaeros. Thus, hetaerography is a general alterity that exceeds both heteros and hetaeros, both speech and writ ing, and it cannot yet be identified with either one or the other. Hetaerography, through its diphthong, is an otherness as the failure of specularity, where no self or self-identical Other and its opposite ever return to themselves, or yet speak. Like archi-writing, it is a force of \"arche-violence, loss of the proper, of absolute proximity, of self-presence, in truth the loss of what has never taken place, of a self-presence which has never been given but only dreamed of and always already split, repeated, incapable of appearing to itself, except in its own disappearance\" (Derrida, 1976, 112). In unravelling hetaerography's misspelled diphthong, and in order not to lose the weave in-between heteros and hetaeros, I ask again: why does this diphthong as fascinate me? Hetaerography, through its diphthong, has been invented as a critique of exemplarity. B y the term exemplarity I understand a hierarchical economy whereby a certain Other identified sexually, racially, anatomically, and so on, and a certain Difference (sexual, poli t ical , cultural, linguistic, etc.) become primary and universal models elevated above all others and above al l other differences. These models are paradigmatic. They affirm a unique Difference and recognize a unique Other, and this is the problem, for in the face of this exemplary Other (Woman, for example) any other other becomes secondary and disappears. Privileged categories of Al ter i ty and Difference are given priority over all others. This exemplarity and its desaparecidos or disappeared wi l l be seen at work in both Bellessi's and Farina's poetry. M y critique of exemplarity in the face of the above universalized Others is inspired by Derrida's questioning of the same economy in terms of the national example: What is exemplarity . . . in the history of national, self-affirmation? What happens when a 'people' [for example, the German people, etc.] presents itself as exemplary? Or when a 'nation' declares itself endowed with a mission by virtue of its very uniqueness; as of bearing testimony, and of having a responsibility, all of which are exemplary; in other words of bringing a universal message? (Derrida, 1991d, 93) One can extend these questions to the sexual example: what constitutes an exemplary or unique example of sexuality and sexual difference? What is in this case paradigmatic and 12 singular about the dialectics of the couple, woman, man, \"the figure 2, in our culture, that is 1+1, or rather 1 against 1\" (Derrida, 1995c, 158), in which some feminism is frequently caught? Or, to direct these questions to essentialist politics and a feminist Allocentrism of sexual otherness: what is so exceptional and imperative about the feminine that in such discourses it becomes so urgently a universal Other and installs \"herself\" as an al l -encompassing example of Alter i ty that must name, and be given priority over, all others? In various feminist discourses, Woman is the Other Example par excellence. Similar questions can be raised regarding exemplary (homo)sexualities, languages, cultures, genealogies and even exemplary victims and oppressions. What does the transformation of the Other into a model entail? Can any Other be an example or object upon which we can speculate, which we can assume to know before-hand, identify, or claim to make it speak without violating it? Does such an Other not serve as a pathetic mirror to reflect ourselves onanistically and to echo our superior voice? Hetaerography is the suspension of both exemplarity and the hierarchy such an exemplar-ity creates when it affirms and privileges a unique or universal Al ter i ty at the expense of others. In the duplicity of its name, as well as in its diphthong, hetaerography misspells the all-encompassing and singular example of Other, making it no longer determinable, and converting it into a monstrous and gross mistake. We cannot yet single out One example of Other to speculate upon and transform into an object of so-called emancipation, or inquiry, which becomes a violation. Let me intersect this cancellation of exemplarity with Irigaray's reproach directed at phal-lologocentric specularity, \"the desire . . . for the self (as same, and again of the similar, the alter-ego, and, to put it in a nutshell, the desire for the auto . . . the homo . . . the male\" (Irigaray, 1985a, 26). In contrast to Irigaray, and more radically since she st i l l conserves the feminine as a paradigmatic Other, what I try to do with hetaerography's multiple others is to show that we can no longer single out even Woman as the Other Example. We shall no longer be able to universalize her as such an exemplum of Al ter i ty and turn her into (an)Other speculum for our so-called feminist, or mujerista narcissis-tic auto-contemplation. Hetaerography is an undecidable and self-deconstructive alterity. Its undecidability implies that all essentialist examples of Otherness have never been so 13 exemplary, paramount and unique. A l l exemplary categories of Other are privileged identities or essences that end up exclud-ing and \"disappearing\" other others. Again , the verbs \"exclude\" and \"disappear\" are not coincidental here. They are deliberately chosen to allude also to the Lat in American exam-ple and its countless acts and instances of disappearance, its horrors of exclusion, genocide, exile, death, annihilation, mass-extermination, torture, mass-graves, deportations and i m -prisonments. A l l exemplary Others actually reinstate the hierarchy that displaced them in the first place, since they claim to be unique and more urgent than any other other. Throughout this study I wi l l interweave discussion of the implic i t or potential violence of such exemplarity or universalism and Lat in American examples of despotism and fascism. I use the word \"interweave\" here because once more hetaerography, with its ae, is an undecidable alterity in-between, across, and beyond sexual and poli t ical paradigms. I have encountered no analogous theoretical analysis in such terms in La t in American studies. The structure of hetaerography and its variants in the following chapters (such as the ghasst, the desaparecidos, the trasladados, the tornadizo, valva, and so on) link two exemplary Others, Woman and Lesbian, with the wider poli t ical context. One other always affects the other and vice versa, one heteros pointing to another heteros, inhabiting one another like spectral and parasitic ghcests, but without ever settling into one or the other, the place is always indeterminately in-between two others (heteros and heteros): hetaerography is not-yet one example (the essentialist category of Other identified as Woman, for instance) or the other (the essence of \"the disappeared\", for instance). The rationale behind this invention of hetaerography, its diphthong and its mutations, is to provide a tool for a feminist democratic critique of any exemplarity, universalism or homoiophylophilia (a term to be discussed later), a critique of any hierarchical appropriation of otherness by a privileged and universal concept or category of Alteri ty. As Chantal Mouffe suggests: T h i s type of democrat ic project is also better served by a perspective that al low us to grasp the diversi ty of ways i n which relations of power are constructed and helps us to reveal the forms of exclusion present in a l l pretensions to universal ism . . . T h i s is why the cr i t ique of essentialism and a l l its different forms: human i sm, ra t iona l i sm, universal ism [or exemplar ism]. far f rom being an obstacle to the formula t ion of a feminist democrat ic project is indeed the very condi t ion of its possibi l i ty . (Mouffe, 1992, 382) The structure of hetaerography and its other variants \u2014 sti l l wi thin the field of Lat in American Studies \u2014 relates to traumatic experiences of displacement, disappearance, dis-14 figurement or defacement, the loss of home, experiences of uprootedness, persecution and powerlessness, death, torture, extermination, incarceration, expulsion and so on, without quite being these experiences. Hetaerography cannot be any experience or anything at al l . Otherwise it would be transformed into an appropriable category of Otherness itself, and this is precisely the appropriation I am trying to deconstruct here. In one sense, hetaerography is like the trauma any hierarchical exemplarity of a unique Other inflicts on another other that this particular self-universalizing Other has excluded in order to have the upper hand. The hierarchy itself is, in the first place, such a v i -olence or trauma: \"we are not dealing with the peaceful coexistence of a vis-a-vis, but with a violent hierarchy. One of the two terms [one Other, for example] controls the other (axiologically, logically, etc.), holds the superior position\" (Derrida, 1972, 36). More radi-cally, however, hetaerography is the very injury, the very displacement that the exemplary Other must first suffer in order to be exemplary, privileged, or unique. In this second sense, hetaerography is the violence performed on the previous violence, or the overthrow of the hierarchical regime. It is the structure of the exemplary Other's self-constitution through self-disappearance and self-effacement. I want to emphasize that hetaerography is the general effect of alterity, whereby a singular Other is a singular and all-encompassing essence only on the condition that it suffers in itself the very dislocation and traumas it in-flicts on other others. Consequently, in a context of female exemplarity in Diana Bellessi's poetry I shall say that Woman suffers in \"herself\" the disappeared, or the out of sight transferred (los trasladados): \"she\" suffers them to such a degree that \"she\" misses herself and becomes the missing. In a context of Lesbian exemplarity in Soledad Farina's text I shall say that Farina's Lesbian is tornadiza, turned away from \"herself\" and self-encrypted. \"She\" becomes impossible-impassable like those \"her\" unique and aggressive subjectivity displaces or prohibits. Because I am talking here about structures and effects that precede and give rise to al l exemplary (universal) categories of Other, it follows that hetaerography (and its variants), like Derrida's differance, cannot be identifiable with any sexually, politically, biologically, or linguistically determined Other, conceptual category, subject, or person or any es-sentialist concept of difference (such as \"feminine\" or \"sexual difference,\" for example). 15 Hetaerography is an impossible \"concept\" that exceeds all exemplary categories and \"no longer allows itself, never allowed itself to be understood in the previous [hierarchical] regime\" (Derrida, 1972, 36), for hetaerography would be the very wounding and vanishing of all exemplarity and hierarchy. Outside of, and threatening to, all regimes, hetaerog-raphy (and its alterations in the subsequent chapters) is an other more unthought than any exemplary Other, because it wi l l always evade us. No liberal Allocentric discourse of emancipation of a unique Other \"is prepared to master i t . A n d it (is) that which must elude mastery. Only presence is mastered\" (Derrida, 1982e, 65). I have already suggested that the radicality of hetaerography consists in exceeding with hetaeros the only-One-Other schema. It is therefore a sort of \"non-concept in that it cannot be defined in terms of oppositional predicates; it is neither this nor that; but rather this and that . . . without being reducible to a dialectical logic either\" (Derrida, 1984, 110). In hetaerography's misspelling the diphthong ae reiterates the play of \"this and that.\" For instance, hetaeros would represent both Woman (as Other) and the disappeared (as another other), recalling and exceeding both and without settling into either one. Hetaeros is an etymological knot that condenses contradictory and incompatible meanings in order to allude to a non-assimilable and fugitive otherness that escapes any oppositional mastery and identification. Like differance this non-concept is impossible to restrict to, or condense into a unique or exemplary name; it \"is the play which makes possible nominal effects, the relatively unitary and atomic structures that are called names . . . in which, for example, the nominal effect differance [or hetaerography] is itself enmeshed, carried off, reinscribed, just as a false entry or a false exit is st i l l part of the game, a function of the system\" (Derrida, 1982c, 27). What this means is that hetaerography in its very diphthongal doubleness and in the duplicity of its others carries within itself its own self-deconstruction. It is thus heteronymous to itself. H e t e r o n y m o u s : Of, or having the nature of, a heteronym; having different names as a pair of correlatives; designating or of the two crossed images of something seen when the eyes are focused beyond it. (Webster, 1988, 634) In general terms, hetaerography comprises two different words in one, inscribing difference 16 within itself. Before its diphthongal alteration, this heteronym would have consisted of the prefix hetero-, which stems from the Greek trtpoq, meaning at an obvious level \"other\" or \"different,\" and graphe, which is writing. More significantly, hetaerography knots together two different grammatical forms: the two adjectives heteros and heteros and the sub-stantive graphe. Hetaerography plays simultaneously with two entirely different adjectives, heteros and hetaeros, which in English are pronounced the same and heard as heteros, although in Greek they are distinct. In English the difference between the e of heteros and the ae of hetaeros is graphic and impossible to render phonetically. There are a number of significations I wish to account for, in combining these two different words, and they bring us closer to concepts of home, host, hospitality, enemy, guest, ghost, hostage, hostility, etc. A l l these notions are important. Because I am conserving them simultaneously in the invention of hetaerography, they make this word undecidable, an aporia that wi l l assist me in questioning the exemplarity or economy of selfsameness that I call homoiophylophilia. Homoiophylophilia is a term that relates to notions of home, homogeneity, affiliation, kinship, genealogy, proper(ty), belonging in general, fraternity, friendship, etc. Again , I wi l l postpone a more detailed justification of my use of this term for the moment. To return to the two others of hetaerography, to heteros and hetaeros, in Greek heteros has the meaning of \"different\" and \"other,\" as does alios, which in turn is related to the Lat in alter. When alios, through its Lat in detour of alter, returns to Greek, it becomes allows, \"the altered,\" \"the changed,\" \"the mutated.\" Alios is also related to the Lat in alius, conveying a hostile and polemical difference. In this case, the different other becomes the alien, the enemy, the foreigner, the stranger and even the barbaric. In hetaerography the concept of heteros, of this in imical , inhospitable and hostile other refers to, and is altered by, such a reference through the mark of yet another other: hetaeros has completely different meanings from heteros. Hetaeros is a friend, a brother or sister, a companion, a partner, a relative, a fellow citizen, homoracial, homoethnic peoples (in the plural; these are translated literally from Greek); that is, people that belong to \"the same race, tribe and nation.\" In Greek, hetaeros is linked to ethnos, a community, a totality of people, crowd, population, race, tribe, class, genus, nation, body of citizens, and so on. It is 17 also related to ethos as habitation, custom, character, nature, manners, morals and ethics. From hetaeros stems also another other: hetaera or prostitute, defined in the dictionary \u2014 and paradoxically defying the relationship of hetaeros to ethos and ethics \u2014 as \"a woman lacking 'ethos'\" or morals (Dormbarakis, 1995, 342-43 and 52, 255). Beyond Greek in its Indo-European roots, heteros alone appears to imply a combination of \"selfsameness\" (similarity, identity, unity) and simultaneous alterity. In Indo-European, heteros conserves certain meanings that are found in the apparently unrelated hetaeros. Heteros stems from the Indo-European sm-tero-. The prefix sm., which gives the English o o \"same,\" means \"one,\" \"together, similar, equal, the same, identical\" (Kle in , 1966, 726). In order to begin discussing the term homoiophylophilia, let us say that the prefix sm relates that which is other and different to the homogeneous, the same, in Greek the homoion. This is a true paradox: heteros is both other and same. The suffix -tero comes from the Sanskrit itara or other and expresses comparison, alternatives (Kle in , 1966, 1378 and 1603). To turn now to heteros, the stem of this word is *swe, which connects hetaeros with notions of kinship, property, companionship, alliance (by marriage), and friendship. According to Benveniste, the root *swe alludes to the concept of self and not only indicates at the same time both distinction and separation, but also relation. Benveniste's tracing of hetaeros's conceptual ancestry mobilizes a number of notions that associate selfhood with belonging, ownership, property and fraternity (Benveniste, 1973, 271). In hetaeros's ancestry there is atomization, alienation, estrangement, and non-relation, but also community, affiliation, association, companionship, identification, fellowship, and even partnership and together-ness. Heterograf t or xenograft: graft of shin, bone etc. from an individual of another species; allograft: a graft of tissue or an organ taken from an individual of the same species as the re-cipient, but with different hereditary factors. (This is a summary of the definitions of heterograft as xenograft or as allograft. Webster, 1988, 633, 1544, 37, respec-tively) What can be seen in the etymological roots of both words are significations that separate 18 them but also connect them. But what is most interesting is not their semantic richness, their common roots and meanings, for here \"etymology and philology interest us secon-darily\" (Derrida, 1981, 220), but their concatenation, the grafting of the one other onto the other, and the contraction of all their meanings. What is fascinating is the grafting of multiple others and the invention of an unrecognizable and monstrous concept-ion of alterity: \"This graft, this hybridization, this composition that puts heterogeneous bodies together may be called a monster . . . The monster is also that which appears for the first t ime and, consequently, is not yet recognized. A monster is a species for which we do not yet have a name . . . \" (Derrida, 1995f, 385-86). M y gross spelling mistake, my heterogra-phy or heteronymy \u2014 simply put, my construct, hetaerography, is otherwise written and meant, and otherwise named; it is an other otherwise than the other \u2014 a monstrosity that gestures towards an otherness that st i l l remains foreign or strange, a \"figure of the future . . . which can only be surprising . . . [and] for which we are not prepared\" (Derrida, 1995f, 387). This is any exemplary other, and no particular one. It could be aporetically this and that. One wil l be unable to comprehend i t , fix it into either category of heteros-hetaeros, or attribute any particular property or value to it. One wi l l be incapable of normalizing the monster, calculating it, converting it into a determination or norm, transforming it into a program or a manifesto of liberation and trying therefore \"to domesticate it , that is, make it part of the household and have it assume the habits\" (Derrida, 1995f, 387). W i t h the in-between play of heteros-hetaeros one wi l l even be unable to give this alterity the unique name \"Other,\" or even call it an \"Alteri ty.\" Hetaerography wil l be a monster, or in Haraway's words an \"inappropriate\/d other\" that \"cannot adopt the mask of either ' se l f or 'other' offered by previously dominant, modern Western narratives of identity and politics\" (Haraway, 1991, 299). It is not entirely fortuitous that I have brought together the words heteros and hetaeros and all their significations. They touch upon ethico-political questions that relate otherness to notions of home, hospitality, hostility, the stranger, the guest, family, ethnicity, citizenship, belonging to a class, nation, sex, affiliation and separation, friendship and enmity, and so on. They even allude simultaneously to philosophical questions of sameness, similarity, identity, subjectivity, alterity, and difference, and explicitly to ethics through the word 19 hetaeros. If my enterprise consists in interrogating the inherent potential violence of any universalism\/exemplarism, I must begin by inventing a monstrosity that wi l l inhabit and destroy this exclusionary system from within, and which the hierarchical structure wi l l be unable to recognize, circumscribe and assimilate. Again , this is a methodological aspect that wi l l be left aside for the moment. However, the above observation gives me the oppor-tunity to open my discussion of hetaerography in two interconnected directions. The first one concerns the reasons for designating hetaerography as a monstrous invention, a ghostly hollowing out of violent systems that rehabilitate the other. The second one, to which the rest of this section is dedicated, entails hetaerography's relation to \"ethico-political\" issues of hospitality that wi l l be examined, mainly with the assistance of Benveniste, Levinas and Derrida. To Invent the Ghcest The watchword of deconstruction, one of them at least, is the open-ended call viensl, come let something new come. John D. Caputo8 Hetaerography is an invention. I do not say this because this theoretical construct is my own invention and therefore I want to announce my property rights over this figure of radical and multiple alterity. In my understanding, such an alterity is \"inappropriate\/d\" and cannot be possessed in any sense by me or by any one at a l l , because it does not exist in the first place. The phrase \"hetaerography is an invention\" 9 means simply that hetaerography is not yet anything at all that can belong to someone or be owned by any particular person, theory, discourse, etc. It means that the other is st i l l undetermined or yet to come (a venir) \"beyond being\" (Derrida, 1999b, 166). This is an invention of an unanticipated, incalculable other, the entirely other: Like the future. For the time to come is its only concern: allowing the adventure or the event of the entirely other to come. Of an entirely other that can no longer be confused with the God or the Man of ontotheology or with any of the figures of the configuration (the subject, consciousness, the unconscious, the self, man or woman, and so on). (Derrida, 1989c, 61) If my invention of hetaerography cannot exist yet, cannot have a being or an ontological status, cannot be identified as man or woman, cannot assume the face of any exemplary 20 Other, cannot even be the Other and cannot be possessed as One universal Other, then it can be said that hetaerography is \"the other [that] is not yet possible\". Hetaerography is an \"invention of the impossible\" and the non-assimilable that inhabits phantasmatically economies of the self-identical or the \"selfsame\" and attempts to deconstruct them from within, without itself being able to be conflated with any of these economies. It is an impossibility that disrupts from within any \"program of possibilities within the economy of the same\" (Derrida, 1989c, 6 0 ) . This is why, in its phonetic resemblance wi th heterogeneity, hetaerography phantasmatically mimes heteros, mimes what we are accustomed to thinking of as the self-identical category of \"Other.\" But hetaerography is not what is habitually thought of as the heterogeneous or the Other as such. It is entirely other than such an Other (i.e. it is beyond the heterogeneous as such, beyond the essence of \"the heterogeneous\"). It is beyond the invention of the possible, beyond programs and manifestoes of normalized, domesticated and univocal Otherness: O u r current tiredness results from the invention that is always possible. It is not against i t but beyond it that we are t ry ing to reinvent invention itself, another invent ion, or rather an invention of the other that would come, through the economy of the same, indeed while miming it or repeating it ... to offer a place for the other, would let the other come. I a m careful to say \"let it come\" because i f the other is precisely what is not invented, the in i t ia t ive or deconstructive inventiveness can consist only i n opening, in uncloseting, des tabi l iz ing foreclusionary structures so as to al low for the passage towards the other. B u t one does not make the other come, one lets it come by prepar ing for its coming . T h e coming of the other or its coming back is the only possible ar r iva l . . . (Derr ida , 1989c, 60; my emphasis) I am inventing something entirely strange, undecided, and even aporetic: the ghasst. This word is also an invention that borrows all of hetaerography's multiple meanings and ap-parently contradictory concepts involving hospitality and hostility, friendship and enmity, familiarity and strangeness (the unheimlich), and hostage taking. The ghasst is in-between a (g)host and a guest. It insinuates an indeterminate and unsettling otherness, the not-yet other-that-is-to-come, by retaining the diphthong ae of hetaerography and all the defer-ral effects that such a diphthong entails. Here I am approaching the terrain of excessive \"ethics,\" of a hyperpolitics that takes into account the spectral figure of the entirely other \u2014 in Levinas's or in Derrida's words the tout autre \u2014 or the wholly stranger. 21 The ghest (alias hetaerography) is a structure of the unencompassable foreign in general, where the foreign is not to be understood in any sense as a person, experience or status. The ghest w i l l appear throughout this study as connected either with uncanny figures of spectrality (like the puppet) and the ghosts and shadows of the missing in Bellessi's poetry, or wi th death, the strangest of al l , the cryptic and the other-to-come in Farina's poetry. Notice how the word ghcest is so deformed, haunted and self-estranged that it can no longer be recognized in terms of the ghost, host or guest, but simultaneously traverses all of these. What exactly do I intend to convey with such a monstrous heterograft (or xenograft, literally the grafting of the xenos or of the foreign)? This question leads us back to the issue of exemplarity, of any universalized Otherness. What both hetaerography and the ghest are intended to haunt is any exemplarity which wi l l be designated as homoiophylophilia, a term that recurs throughout this study. Homoiophylophilia combines notions that also emerge, deliberately and for strategic reasons, in some of hetaeros's significations. Although the entire word is a combination of Greek terms, it nonetheless plays phonetically with English, French and Spanish connotations. Homoio is an allusion to sameness (in Greek homoiotes), selfhood, similarity, analogy, identity, the English home, the French homme, or the Spanish hombre. Phylon is genus, people, race, species, but also the sex of a person. Phylon links gender and sexuality with nationalism. Philia refers to friendship, fraternity and love, and by phonetic or conceptual association, to filiation, kinship and community. The concatenation of all these terms borrows also from a number of concepts examined by Derrida in his critique of the Western history of friendship based on the phallogocentric schema of fraternal love, symbolically \"homoerotic,\" related to the \"double exclusion of the feminine, the exclusion of friendship between a man and a woman and the exclusion of friendship between women\" (Derrida, 1997, 290). B y the detour through Derrida's Politics of Friendship, homoiophylophilia hints at eros as philia or friendship; homophilia (the pun in this word is between man and same); and philautia, which makes friendship \"proceed from self-love\" (Derrida, 1997, 24). In another sense homoiophylophilia is analogous to exemplarity and narcissistic specularity. The friend is our double, the Ciceronian, fraternal, phallocentric echo, 'our own image' . . . Cicero uses the word exemplar, which means portrait but also, as the exemplum, the duplicate, the reproduction, the copy, as well as the original, the type, the model. The two meanings (the single original and the multipliable copy) cohabit here; they are or seem to be the same . . . Now, according to Cicero, his exemplar is projected 22 or recognized in the true friend, it is his ideal double, his other self, the same as self but improved. (Derrida, 1997, 4). Derrida's observations on self-love and exemplarity are conserved in homoiophylophilia, but given a further ramification. I have already said that what I am interested in questioning is the self-exemplarity of a unique Other. W i t h the diphthong ae of the constructs hetaerog-raphy and ghcEst on the one hand, I maintain the mirroring and narcissistic effects whereby a universal category of Other appears to recognize its true self through another other (its double). This Other is no longer therefore unique, but just a refraction. The diphthong is like a refracting mirror, or an exemplum in Derrida's words. Notice that my play with the diphthong \u2014 which is equivalent to the double other, heteros-hetaeros \u2014 is based on two different letters (a and e) that combined in the ligature ae seem to resemble or reflect each other. Given back-to-front and upside-down, the letters seem to be each other's double. But my play does not end here. Through the etymology of the word diphthong, I also add to the above reflection an acoustic mirror, resonance and echo. Diphthongos is a Greek concatenation of di (two, double) and phthongos (voice and sound). Phthongos stems from phthegma \u2014 voice, tongue, logos, speech, loud noise, and musical sound. In this manner the diphthong ae in ghcest and hetaerography suggests acoustic duplication, and a distorted phonic exemplarity. It is now the unique voice of a unique Other that is refracted and dispersed: this voice is thus not-yet unique, and does not originate from a univocal source either. The Other's exemplary voice does not return to itself in a narcissistic and self-loving auto-reproduction. It can only resonate and hear-itself-speak10 as an echo. (One should also bear in mind that with this echoic distortion I already repeat the fact that hetaerography can only be a spectral echo: it can only be written rather than spoken.) Homoiophylophilia is another economy of a \"selfsame\" Other \u2014 whether this Other is called woman, mother, the lesbian and so on \u2014 and of homogeneity based on resonance, self-exemplarity, resemblance, etc. This Other believes itself capable of always returning to itself, to the \"who\" or to the \"what is.\" Bu t , homoiophylophilia and self-exemplarity are only optical or acoustic illusions, for nothing comes back the same as itself. The phantasmatic effects that govern these two economies of amour-propre and through which a universal Other never succeeds in materializing as such, w i l l not cease to fascinate me. They 23 wil l appear throughout this study as haunted\/haunting labyrinths and graves, uncanny shadows, figures, and masks, the vanished, the transferred, crypts, and ghostly closets. They wi l l always be the escaping ghtest haunting homoiophylophilia or the Other as a selfsame. O n the other hand, the ghcest and its diphthong mockingly mime some of the concepts implici t in homoiophylophilia, which I shall critique. Consider, for instance, that the diph-thong resembles ties, a ligament of filiation and sisterhood, joined or embraced friends, lovers, brothers, sisters, \"a solid friendship founded on homogeneity, on homophilia, on solid and firm affinity\" (Derrida, 1997, 91). It resembles a knot of kinship, community, communication, family, genealogy. It recreates a circumscribed space, the idea of home, and the proper contained within barred borders. The diphthong is like an umbil ical co rd , 1 1 or genealogical ties and blood relations that recall a maternal, paternal, or fraternal body. Its two letters share the same spinal or umbilical cord, and in this way they seem to be articulating intimacy, brotherhood and love. Two letters, like twin brothers, exist within earshot in the proximity of their joined body and the immediacy of their voice: the diph-thong seems to be a graphic representation of both community and communication. The Diphthong Spooks The ligature ae of (the) ghcest mimes and haunts homoiophylophilia. It implies nothing but spectrality, duplicity, the not-yet, deferral, \"the spectral distance,\" (Derrida, 1997, 288) that affects any category of Other that appears as such, as a homogeneity. It implies that this Other as a selfsame \"would itself be inhabited and invaded by its own specter. It would be constituted by specters of which it becomes the host and which it assembles in the haunted community of a single body. Ego = ghost. Therefore, 'I am ' would mean 'I am haunted' . . . Wherever there is Ego, es spukt, ' i t spooks'\" (Derrida, 1994a, 133). The words ghtest and hetaerography articulate otherness as uncanny strangeness. Their diphthong se signals in this sense what Kristeva calls, in an analogous context, \"[t]he repetition that often accompanies the feeling of uncanny strangeness [which] relates it to the 'compulsion to repeat'\" (Kristeva, 1991, 184) and to echo. The diphthong might not speak but it spooks. The diphthong says: Ego = echo. 24 What I wish to haunt here is any concept of Other that can appear familiar \u2014 and hence is part of a homoiophylophilial economy \u2014 and recognizable as an \"I am Woman, Mother, Lesbian, V i c t i m \" and so on. This homoiophylophilial \"I am\" is (the) unheimlich ghasst originating within oneself: To discover our disturbing otherness . . . at the heart of what we persist in maintaining as a proper, solid 'us.' By recognizing our uncanny strangeness we shall neither suffer from it nor enjoy it from the outside. The foreigner is within me, hence we are all foreigners. If I am a foreigner, there are no foreigners. (Kristeva emaphasizes only \"our,\" 1991, 192) The \"Ethics\" and \"Politics\" of Hetcerography and the Ghcest Keeping in mind Kristeva's \"I am a foreigner\" transversed by the phantasmatic \"I am ghcest\" I begin here my \"ethico-political\" reading of the inventions ghasst and hetaerogra-phy. Emi le Benveniste gives us a number of etymologies, some of which one can encounter in the two others, heteros-hetaeros, of hetaerography. These etymologies relate host and guest, host with hostility, hospitality and hostage taking, and ghostis as stranger with the Lat in hostia or sacrificial v ic t im. The following is a brief summary of Benveniste's chapter on hospitality in Indo-European Language and Society: In Latin 'guest' is called hostis and hospes < *hosti-pet-. What is the meaning of these elements? What is the meaning of the compound? 1. -pet-, which also appears in the forms pot-, Lat. potis (Gr. potis, despotes, Skr. patih, and -pt- (Lat. -pte, i-psel) originally meant personal identity. In the family group (rfem-) it is the master who is eminently 'himself (ipsissimus, in Plautus, means the master); likewise, despite the morphological difference, Gr. despotes like dominus, designated the person who personified the family group par excellence. *swe, *se [the root of hetaeros], literally 'of oneself derived from the ancient *poti-. The primary sense of *potis had a strong force: 'master,' whence in marriage, 'husband,' or in social terminology the 'chief of some unit, whether house, clan, or tribe. A verb derived from *poti-, like Skt. pdtyate, Lat. potior, 'to have power over something, have something at one's disposal,' already marks the appearance of a sense 'to be able to.' With this may be compared the Latin verb possidere, 'possess,' stemming from *potsedere, which describes the 'possessor.' The notion of'power' (theoretical) is constituted and it receives its verbal form from the predicative expression pote est, contracted to potest, which gives rise to possum, potest 'I am capable, I can.' 2. The primitive notion conveyed by hostis is that of equality by compensation: a hostis is 25 one who repays a gift by a counter-gift. Hostis in Latin corresponds to gasts of Gothic and to gosti of Old Slavonic, which also presents gos-podi 'master,' and formed the hospes. Like its Gothic counterpart, gasts, Latin hostis at one period denoted guest. Ghostis is stranger, hence to be welcomed or feared. Lat. hospes, hospitis, hosti-potis is lord of strangers (cf. also the hosts of hostile armies and hostage). A very well-known word, hostia, is connected with the same family: its real sense is 'the victim which serves to appease the anger of gods,' hence it denotes a compensatory offering, and herein lies the distinction which distinguishes hostia from victima in Roman ritual. The classical meaning of hostis as 'enemy' must have developed when reciprocal relations between clans were succeeded by the exclusive relations of civitas to civitas (cf. Gr. xenos 'guest' 'stranger'). 3. Because of this, Latin coined a new name for 'guest': *hosti-pet-, which may perhaps be interpreted as arising from an abstract noun hosti 'hospitality' and consequently meant 'he who predominantly personifies hospitality,' is hospitality itself. The study of a certain number of expressions relating to exchange, expecially those based on the root *mei-, like the Latin munus, 'an honorific post implying an obligation to recipro-cate,' the personification of a reciprocal contract, *mei-t- in the Latin mutuus (munus and mutuus are related to munis, imunis, communis, parallel to the Gothic ga-mains, German gemein 'common'), Skt. mithu- 'changed (falsely)' > 'lie' also leads us to a word for 'guest': mehmdn in middle and modern Iranian. Another word for 'guest' in modern Iranian, ermdn < aryaman, links up with a very special kind of 'hospitality' within a group of the Arya, one of the forms of which is reception by marriage. (Benveniste, 1973, 71-83) I am expanding hetaerography and the ghcest to Benveniste's ghostis, a stranger to be welcomed and feared, and to Levinas's and Derrida's tout autre and the stranger other. Derrida does not synthesize an undecidable structure (which I call hetaerography) that con-nects an unidentifiable and strange other with effects of hospitality and hostility, friendship and enmity, hosting and hostage-taking, familiarity, foreignness and strangeness. However, he does speak of absolute hospitality, a relation of openness of the self to the wholly other. In his reading of Levinas, he writes of this relation in terms of the host being a guest in his home, being dispossessed of his place precisely when he thinks he is at his place, when he thinks that he is master. This is very important here. Deconstructing all self-identical con-cepts of Other and even the category \"Other\" itself, hetaerography and the ghcest describe an originary displacement, expropriation and dispossession, which can extend to the case of all essentialist categories of Other, particularly when this Other has been consolidated as such, when, that is, it behaves as a self-identity. This Other is absolutely estranged: heteros-hetaeros, host-guest, a ghcest: 26 we must be reminded of this implacable law of hospitality: the hote who receives (the host), the one who welcomes the invited or received hote (the guest), the welcoming hote who considers himself the owner of the place, is in truth a hote received in his own home. He receives the hospitality that he offers in his own home; he receives it from his own home \u2014 which in the end, does not belong to him. The hote as host is a guest [the ghaest or heteros is hetasros]. The dwelling opens itself to itself, to its \"essence\" without essence, as a \"land of asylum or refuge.\" The one who welcomes is first welcomed in his own home. The one who invites is invited by the one whom he invites. The one who receives is received, receiving hospitality in what he takes to be his own home, or indeed his own land . . . Rosenzweig emphasized this originary dispossession, this withdrawal by which the \"owner\" is expropriated from what is most his own, the ipse from its ipseity, thus making of one's home a place or location one is simply passing through \"even when it has a home, this people [the eternal people], in recurrent contrast to all other peoples on earth, is not allowed full possession of that home. It is only 'a stranger and a sojourner'.\" . . . [T]he inhabitant [is] a guest [hote] received in his own home . . . the owner [is] a tenant . . . the welcoming host [hoie] a welcomed guest [hote] ... (Derrida, 1999a, 41-2) Hetaerography and the ghcest must neither be conflated with the experiences of hospitality and foreignness, nor with any actual persons and conceptual determinations. They are simply impossibilities. They are relations of positing an exemplary and selfsame Other as stranger to her\/him\/itself . \"The other is a dispossessed place\" must be understood as \"the Other has no self, is not her \/h im\/ i t . \" It is nothing, or it is a ghcest, or in Rosenweig's way of thinking it is \"the 'owner' [who\/which] is expropriated from what is most his own,\" that is, her\/his\/ i ts own self. The fact is that hetasrographically the ghcest and hetaerography are relations of difference and otherness that evoke experiences of displacement, estrangement, exile, and dispossession without being them. This is because there can be no ethics and no politics that do not recall, and start from, utter and unconditional bereavement and loss. This is so true that \u2014 radically speaking and following here both Levinas and Derrida \u2014 even this loss is lost, this displacement disappears itself, the estrangement is gone, this dispossession vanishes, this ghcest (always undecidable) itself escapes. These aporias wi l l recur throughout this study. Let me explain: one might read here that the disappearance (or the disappeared) has itself disappeared without leaving a trace. Or, in another instance, I might write, and I have 27 indeed already suggested, that hetaerography is an other without other. What this means is that \"the Other only ever ' is ' its own withdrawal . . . The Other is not at first the identical other, but the withdrawal of this identity \u2014 the originary alteration\" (Lacoue-Labarthe and Nancy, 1997, 27). I am simply moving within a hyperethical and hyperpolitical \"logic\" where I do not wish to construct anything that could ever be appropriated in any sense. To put it simply, I do not even wish to define alterity essentially as estrangement or as disappearance and this is why I shall be saying that such a disappearance is not one, or it is a disappearance without. W i t h i n an \"ethics\" and \"politics\" of excess, this is an other that is unconditionally lost and inappropriate\/d. (The quotation marks around \"ethics\" and \"politics\" denote that this excessiveness also affects what is traditionally and essentially understood as the concepts of ethics and politics.) This excessive process wi l l be repeated with all the variants of hetaerography and the ghcEst. For example, in the third chapter I wi l l be using the familiar (to gay studies) term \"closet,\" but not as it is commonly understood: I wi l l be writing that this closet is not one or is no longer the category or the experience of the \"closet.\" Such a \"closet\" is an otherness or difference that conceals, and encrypts itself, or escapes all definition. Another aporetic way of saying exactly the same thing wi l l be to write that \"this is the loss of the loss,\" or \"it is the alteration of the alteration,\" or the \"hetaerogeneity of heterogeneity,\" etc. Now, within this \"ethics\" and \"politics\" of excess, all my inventions describe also an alterity of excess that is yet-to-come. This is a relation to the other as a postponing, patient, differed-deferred experience of the trace \u2014 understood both in Levinasian and Derridean terms as spacing or temporization \u2014 which has never been present or taken place. This is the other as hetaeros which is always displaced, or is always the stranger gh&st. This relation could be expressed as the following: I ghmst therefore I am. Here the \"I,\" the subjectivity, or identity assumed by any exemplary Other, becomes dispossessed, haunted and emptied. It becomes a g-host, a host and a hostage. It becomes hetaeros, an other otherwise than an identifiable Other, and otherwise than being-Other. Al ter i ty \" in the ethical sense has to be thought 'otherwise than B e i n g ' \" (Ziarek, 1997, 131). Hetaerography and the ghasst are instances of unconditional hospitality. They are, as in Derrida's \"Shibboleth,\" the opening of the door to El i jah or the welcoming of the stranger 28 as the wholly other one always awaits, invites to come, or is. They draw from Levinas's concept of \"[subjectivity . . . [as] hostage, both in the sense of being held captive by the other. The other is like a parasite that gets under my skin\" (Critchley commenting on Levinas, 1999b, 66). This is a haunted subject or an identity that \"suffers for the Other\" (Chalier, 1991, 127) or suffers itself as other. This is Levinas's ethical subject as \"the being-host, the being-hostage . . . [where] the subjectivity of the subject . . . [is] responsi-bil i ty for the Other\" (Derrida, 1999a, 55). \"Ethical ly\" or \"polit ically\" speaking, identity and subjectivity must always exceed themselves: they become absolutely dispossessed and expropriated. The ghcest, however, is not so much an invention concerned with decon-structing the subject \u2014 although it does exactly that. The ghcest or the I ghcest therefore I am is concerned with deconstructing any category of homoiophylophilial pseudo-Other that assumes the position of a dominant subject placed above al l others: the ghcest is \"an alterity without hierarchical difference lying at the root of democracy\" (Derrida, 1997, 237). The ghcest haunts any exemplary Other that appears as an identity, a human, sexual, ontological, conceptual determination (for example as Woman, Lesbian, and even the con-cept of \"Other\"). Expanding Derrida's and Levinas's \"ethics\" and \"politics\" of the subject as hostage to an essentialist Other as dispossesion, hetaerography implies that the Other as subject or as the essence \"Other\" is hostage. This exemplary Other-essence\/subject is in question ... [I]t finds itself under accusation ... where it passively finds itself and finds itself contested, interpellated, implicated, persecuted, under accusation. We must thus think . . . this other way of inhabiting, of welcoming or of being welcomed. The host . . . is a hostage insofar as he is a subject [or in my context an exemplary determination of Otherness such as feminine alterity, for instance] put into question, obsessed (and thus besieged), persecuted, in the very place where he takes place, where as emigrant, exile, stranger, a guest . . . from the very beginning, he finds himself elected to or taken up by a residence . . . before himself electing or taking one up . . . (Derrida, 1999a, 56) Hetaerography and the ghcest affirm a radical anti-essentialism that refuses to have the other appear in any sense: \"The other's appearing as other is constituted by non-appearing\" (Caputo, 2000, 41). Absolute hospitality to the ghcest, to this other that cannot yet be known and encompassed, is an opening to the absolutely displaced, to the other which is not yet determined, to the other which \"do[es] not belong 'here,' and perhaps . . . do[es] not belong anywhere.\" As Caputo further comments: \"The stranger is to be treated as a friend, as a guest to whom we offer hospitality, like a traveler who is displaced, expelled, or expatriated, who does not quite belong here, who is 'unsuitable' . . . lacking his or her 29 own place, lacking a bonding affinity with us\" (Caputo, 2000, 64 and 81, respectively). To invent hetaerography and the ghcest is to open my discursive space, to open my \"home\" where I\/we supposedly master the other to the unsuitable and the incalculable, to the unprogrammable, the not-yet assured, that is, to that which cannot be mastered. In fact, no discourse is ever able or has the power to appropriate the other, for the other is not; it has no particular gender, no proper sexuality, no race, language or culture, belongs to no existing species, no country; it belongs to no one and nothing at al l . It is always the stranger ghasst, that which escapes mastery and assimilation. I invite the impossible possible and undecidable other, the strange hetaerography, to come into (in-venire) my discourse, my \"home,\" because I profoundly distrust and indeed fear all determinations of exemplary Others, al l barriers of essentialist Alterities, all forms of homoiophylophilia, all exemplarism, despotism and mastery, all common grounds of sisters and brothers, all machista or mujerista structures, all families whether of M a n and Father or of Woman and Mother, all heterosexual\/sexist \"fortresses\" or communities, all that dissolves into one common essence or singular name. I am frightened by the implici t terror, death and annihilation such secure grounds continue to spell for those who do not fit under the name of a unique and exclusive Other. I fear the barriers that essences build, be it the essence of truth or being, of art or language, of tradition or community . . . [I] fear the walls that \"community\" builds against those who are outside the walls, who are exiled, excommunicated, expelled, who seem to those inside to put the community at risk. For after all a \"fort,\" a fortified dwelling, a structure that is walled on all sides from the approach of the other, is one of the most literal senses of community, which is fortifying (munire) of ourselves all around (com). A community is precisely what does not want to take any risks when it comes to the other, to minimize the risk of the coming of the other. (Caputo, 2000, 57) In the experience of the unheimlich, the spectral interval of the not-yet, the always atopic \u2014 without place, without becoming a subject, a common topic, ground or theme \u2014 an unpredictable other, hetaerography and the ghcest and all their variants wi l l be an appeal to an also atopic democracy of the a venir beyond the certainties of principles, barrier essences and determinations. Based on the always strange and incommensurable, this democracy always starts from utter dispossession and displacement and it is itself displaced or postponed. Like the un-known or not-yet hetaerography and ghcest, this democracy is the excess (and the excess of the political) that moves beyond exemplarism, beyond the 30 despotism of a singular Other, beyond a calculable Other. This is a deferred democracy never present or existent, but always at the point of arriving, as \"the Messiah is always and structurally 'to come,' so that even if he were actually to show up one day, the question we would put to h i m is, 'when wi l l you come?' That is because his coming is something that is both given and deferred, as also something we both long for and fear\" (Caputo, 2000, 74). Writing With-out Other(s) Overview [Djespite all appearances, there is no concept of the Other. We would have to reflect upon this word \"Other\" [Autrui] in an artisan-like way, in the realm where philosophy and philology constrain each other, writing their concerns and their rigor \u2014 this word \"Other\" circum-scribed in silence by the capital letter which ever increases the neutrality of the other, and which we use so familiarly, even though it is the very disorder of our conceptuality. Jacques Derr ida 1 2 The question of democracy arising from the strange ghcest leads to other \"ethico-political\" aspects of hetaerography involving a messianic promise. I wi l l now elaborate on other implications of hetaerography that wi l l appear in subsequent chapters. This section consists mainly of exposing these implications followed by a brief outline of the two chapters to follow. Methodological issues wi l l also be dealt with here. In this section I explore how hetaerography, in its allusion to the notion of the sacrificial v ic t im or host(ia) challenges metaphysical categories of the Other constructed as victimized human beings. Beyond issues of the identity of the v ic t im Other, hetaerography reveals the \"disappearing\" of such a v ic t im as an (other) g-host that sacrifices itself or gives itself up: the v ic t im is no v ic t im. I wi l l also discuss another ramification of hetaerography that makes use of the eschatological promise of the incommesurable ghcest that is yet to come, in relation to language. This use of language is not to be understood in any literal sense. In both Derridean and Levinasian terms this language simply means (\"ethical\") commitment to the other, being responsible towards the ghcest, and responding to the call of the other. 31 The New World Other or Otherness Wanted Otherness, like everything else, has fallen under the law of the market, the law of supply and demand. It has become a rare item \u2014 hence its immensely high value on the psychological stock exchange, on the structural stock exchange. .. Our sources of otherness are indeed run-ning out; we have exhausted the Other as raw material. Jean Baudrillard13 Parodically adapting the liberating speech of politicians and demagogues and with his usual polemical irony, Baudri l lard addresses the v ic t im Other of the demagogue in these mocking words: ' \" Y o u r rights, your destitution, your freedom interest us ' \" (Baudri l lard, 1996, 140). What Baudri l lard rants about is \"[t]he new identity [which] is the vict im's identity\" (Baudril lard, 1996, 137), \"the psychodrama of perpetual introjection or rejection of the other\" (Baudril lard, 1993, 129), academic or leftist scenarios and soap-operas of oppressed victims, good democrats' fetishes of despondent and impotent Al ter i ty that awaits saviours and protectors. As Baudri l lard might say, like the deficit or the international debt, all these messiahs of the suffering Other buy and sell their vict ims ' misfortune in the speculative market. They demand the Other's rights and the restitution of her\/his stolen voice \u2014 usually robbed by his\/her oppressors. They expose the Other's wounds and afflictions as if displaying a pathetic and pitiful v ic t im in the meat market of so-called progressive intellectuals. This Other, coded as lack, is usually a human, and preferably has a suffering face and no speech. This Other awaits a rescuing enterprise that wi l l restore to her \/h im, his\/her rights and voice, freedom, subjectivity, essence, identity, being, existence \u2014 a better existence. I call this rescuing enterprise of the Other \"as [victim] with needs or problems\" (Laurence, 1992, 182) Allocentr ism (or Allophonocentrism). Allocentrism is a metaphysical or on-totheological discourse preying on an exemplary Other identified in advance as Woman, V i c t i m , Human, Lesbian, Marginalized, Oppressed, and so on. Here, a unique Other fig-ures as the principal, central and privileged category that forms the essentialist ground of such a discourse. Allocentr ism presumes to know the \"who\" of the Other, and by extension its gender, its sex\/uality, race, anatomy, class, state or existential conditions, etc. It also presupposes in the first place that the Other is something that can be. It assumes that the 32 Other can exist, be a presence, a species, a thing, a person, an entity, a being. It takes as a given that the Other is human, alive and accessible. It presumes that the Other has certain attributes through which it can be recognized as such. Allocentr ism grounds the Other, or Al ter i ty in general, as an ontological truth and posits it as substance, materiality, figure, consciousness. This essentialist Other can be\/have a particular name, language, culture, skin, sex, class, etc. It can be found, located, addressed, recognized, classified, victimized, and possessed. As such, this Other can be appropriated because Allocentrism's Other is no longer other: it is an identity, an in-itself, a being, a vict imized essence that can be posited, and domesticated as such. When I say that Allocentrism's Other can be assimilated, I am not implying in any way that alterity can actually be mastered. What is appropriated here is a pseudo-Alterity, or a self-identical Other, for the other can never be mastered, since the other is not. It is precisely what always escapes mastery and determination. Derrida notes that \"one cannot and should not submit the other in general, in other words the 'who' of the other that would only appear absolutely as such by disappearing as other\" (Derrida, 1995i, 275). Otherness cannot exist or appear as such. It can be said even more radically, thinking of the proposed \"terms\" of hetaerography or ghcest, that the other can only appear by displacing itself, by dislocating itself or by disappearing. The other is other when it is no longer accessible conceptually or in any sense and cannot be addressed as a being, or even as the univocal concept \"Other.\" This aporetic relation, where something is without being (x without x ) describes the self-effacement of the Other as such. To use Derrida's earlier terms (lately replaced wi th the hyperethical \"without\"), this is a process of putting something (in my case, the concept \"Other\") under erasure: Dfcfeer. There are two ways I attempt to indicate this differential and ghostly process: 1) The play between heteros and hetaeros and between ae an e gives me an inaudible, invisible and phantasmatic alterity. This is the other that is crossed out and appears as disappearance, as the blank and ghcestly space of \"het( )rography\" that one cannot quite hear or perceive. 2) Playing wi th the diphthong ae, breaking the ligature in the middle exactly where the two letters a and e unite, creates a third symbol, the ? t which looks like Derrida's x for crossing out a concept or putting it under erasure. B y this association, \"under erasure\" 33 becomes \"under the a ^ t e \" . The a ^ t e , which wi l l re-appear frequently, is versatile in that it acquires extremely im-portant hyperethico-political dimensions, describing a number of other effects apart from the \"under erasure\" or the \"without\" and toying with numerous significations. Here I wi l l mention schematically a few of its dimensions. Others wi l l be explained further in the following chapters, and some wi l l be left to the reader's imagination. I have already mentioned impl ic i t ly that the a^fee stands for the disruption and dissem-ination of specularity and of the exemplarity of a unique Other. It is the not-yet, the interval or spacing that prevents something (the Allocentric Other, for instance) from clos-ing in upon itself. It is the undecidable rift opened up in between a particular metaphysical Other, which allows any essentialist Other to be posited or situated as such. The is like the x of\" x\u00b0jpa o r t h e abyssal chora, itself beyond \"any proper determination\" (Derrida, 1995a, 99). It is the indeterminacy that makes all determinations or al l determined Others possible. The therefore, is a chasm, an opening, the open door of hospitality to the unknown hetagrography or the non-assured other. In deconstructing Soledad Farina's essentialist discourse, I wi l l critique her creation of borders and \"terms,\" or barriers of essences called the \"Lesbian\" or \"(homo)sexuality.\" I wi l l challenge her enterprise of converting the other and the lesbian into an aggressive subjectivity, a selfsame, a pseudo-Other, another home, community, place reproducing the phallogocentric home, etc. In this case, any allusion to the f\\z w i l l indicate the open or welcoming door to an other not-yet defined as the universalized essence of \"Lesbian,\" or constructed as a violent subject. The a ^ t e is the unencompassable tout autre. It denotes the violence inflicted on violence of exemplarity and hierarchy, and in the implici t mastery of a unique pseudo-Other. This is why the diphthong is made to look like a violent weapon, an a ? t e \u2014 also alluding to the hyperethical or undecidable and aporetic double bind of deconstruction. The a ? b e is a \"(hetaero)graphic instrument,\" a \"methodological tool\" whereby the \"graphic 1 or \"writing\" mean here difference \u2014 a difference connected to the double other implici t in the invented word hetaeros. The a ? f e e suggests deconstruction's general strategy or double gesture, called also \"split writ ing,\" \"double,\" \"bi-phasing\" or \"bi-focal writ ing.\" 34 This strategy \"avoid[s] both simply neutralizing the binary oppositions of metaphysics and simply residing, while upholding it, in the closed sphere of these oppositions\" (Derrida, 1972, 35). \"Bi-focal writ ing\" or what I designate here as the a ? t e entails first \"a phase of inversion\" of a specific opposition, but secondly and more importantly, an excess of the opposition itself (both in its original and in its inverted form) and the construction of an irruptive . . . new \"concept,\" a concept which no longer allows itself, never allowed itself to be understood in the previous [binary, hierarchical] regime . . . . [This undecidable \"concept\"] escape[s] from inclusion in the philosophical (binary) opposition . . . [while it] nonetheless inhabit[s] it, resist[s] and disorganize^] it, but without ever constituting a third term, without ever occasioning a solution in the form of speculative dialectics. (Derrida, 1972, 36) Thus, the \"new concept\" heteros entails undecidably two others at once that are not opposed to each other or do not negate each other. I enact hetaeros's bi-focal otherness continuously with all the other structures I invent in the following chapters. When I discuss both Soledad Farina's and Diana Bellessi's poetry, I \"write\" or create other analogous a ? t e - l i k e or double \"concepts\" of otherness (see also \"Glossary\") that involve at once, and exceed, both the masculine and the feminine (the machista and the mujerista account, the phallocentric and the (ph)allocentric economy), the sexual and the poli t ical , the human and non-human, etc. (See below \"Methodology\"). It is an almost impossible task to enumerate the various uses of the a ? t e in reading Diana Bellessi's poetry. Let us keep in mind that here (because of the deconstructive double bind I am methodically applying to the readings) I am constantly working on two different levels simultaneously: something is taken literally and then exceeded and transformed into something else, something entirely other (see below, \"Methodology\"). I also give the a J ' t e both a literal and an excessive meaning. On the one hand, the a ? t e is an instrument: it is a tool for writ ing or sculpting and even a torture instrument for disfiguring and defacing. It is also writ ing, including ecriture feminine in literal terms. Through an allusion to the labrys, the double a ^ f e e , to the labyrinth and female genitalia (labia), the a ^ t e becomes Woman, the exemplary Other of feminist essentialist discourse. The ^ t ; is the wooden part from which a puppeteer manipulates her puppets and refers to instrumentality or manipulation in general. On the other hand, the a ^ e exceeds and threatens \u2014 indeed like an axe \u2014 these concrete determinations. It is archi-writing as the vanishing of self-35 presence. It stands for my own \"methodological\" tool for \"writing,\" hetaerography, and for difference, or alterity, for \"writing\" indeterminacy, or in other words for moving beyond all essentialist categories of identifiable Alteri ty. The a ^ t e is the unheimlich dance or oscillation of undecidability. It is the structure of self-disfigurement as self-disappearance or the putting the self-exemplarity of the Other Woman under erasure, under the a ? t e . It is missing the unique female Other, the effacement of sexual difference and its contamination by polit ical difference. It is self-exclusion. The a ? t e is the violence (betrayal) that the exemplary Woman exercises by excising (cutting off, \"tearing\") other others from \"her\" paradigmatic space and the violence as self-defacement \"she herself\" must ini t ial ly suffer in order for \"her\" to be so privileged and singular. This , finally, brings us to a usage of the a ^ t e that is of great \"ethico-political\" significance and which in a sense is a common thread that ties the following chapters together. Always according to the specific context I discuss, or depending on the individual case of exemplary Other and homoiophylophilia, the a ^ e is employed to denote the promise of trauma. It is not fortuitous that the e\\z resembles an opening o r . a wound and in fact is created by splitting open two embraced letters. The a ^ t e is a scar (a scar itself wounded and unrecognizable: a laceration without; an a * \" t e under erasure). Again , I am working in two directions at once. The a ^ t e as trauma relates strategically to those that one could call (and even convert into) victims, although the v ic t im is an essentialized identity that st i l l remains problematic and wi l l be questioned. The lesion that is the a ^ t e mimes all \"victims\" of violence: the disappeared, the tortured, the disfigured, the unidentified, the battered woman, the bashed lesbian, the exiled, the deported, the dispossessed, the outlawed, those \"that the law treats like shit,\" \"the fragments, the leftovers, the leftouts, the remains, the morsels, the outsiders (Caputo, 1997b, 152), los desaparecidos, the missing, shadows, ghosts, the living-dead, those that are so traumatized that they are absolutely beyond recognition. They are so annihilated or disfigured that one can no longer even recognize them as victims or as Others with any particular sexual or racial identity, as woman, man, child, or even human. As Derrida suggests: One of the meanings of what is called a victim (a victim of anything or anyone whatsoever) is precisely to be erased in its meaning as victim. The absolute victim is a victim who cannot even protest. One cannot even identify the victim as victim. He or she cannot 36 even present himself or herself as such. He or she is totally excluded or covered over by language, annihilated by history, a victim one cannot identify. To meditate on writing, which is to say also on effacement \u2014 and the production of writing is also the production of a system of effacement, the trace is at once what inscribes and what effaces \u2014 is to meditate constantly on what renders unreadable or what is rendered unreadable [victim] . . . [T]here is also the unreadability that stems from the violence of foreclosure, exclusion, all of history being a conflictual field of forces in which it is a matter of making unreadable, excluding, of positing by excluding, of imposing a dominant force by excluding, that is to say, not only by marginalizing, by setting aside the victims, but also by doing so in such a way that no trace remains of the victims, so that no-one can testify to the fact that they are victims or so that they cannot even testify to it themselves. The meditation on writing is a meditation on this absolute weakness, the weakness of what you are calling the victim. (Derrida, 1995f, 389) The a ? b e \"writes\" absolute weakness. Just as Derrida, in the above citation, exceeds in a very radical way the identity of \"v ic t im\" and all vict imizat ion, so too the a * \" t e has the radical sense of traumatizing all identity or all vict imized Alter i ty. The a ^ t e implies absolute weakness in the sense that no trace of a victimized Alterity remains: there is no vic t im whom a discourse can determine as such, know beforehand, \"read,\" have as its subject, or subject and victimize further. The a ^ t e (hetaerography, the ghcest, and all the other traumatic structures in this study) is the identifiable Other precisely as an identity beyond recognition. It is the traumatic promise that all identity \u2014 including the privileged category of the vict imized Other \u2014 begins as disfigurement and as lesion. In the specific case of the allocentric essence of the \"victim(ized) Other,\" let us say that the a ^ t e is created deliberately to allude to both a wound and a deadly weapon; and hetaerography and the ghcest, through the etymologies provided by Benveniste, evoke both the gift of a host (and by extension, hospitality) and the v ic t im or hostia. This is how the gift of the a ^ t e \u2014 following Derrida's hyperethical gift of death \u2014 is understood. It is a promise that all essence, including that of the v ic t im, is given away: the v ic t im gives itself up, or gives up the g-host. The v ic t im is incense-essencelessness, an offering \"[p]ure and figureless . . . 'an essenceless by-play . . . of the substance [victim] that rises without ever setting . . . without becoming a subject, and without consolidating through the self . . . its differences'\" (Derrida in a different context, 1991a, 42). Derrida's \"cinders\" \u2014 which is also another word for trace \u2014 is an offering of ashes. The allusion here \u2014 terrible in its frankness but also effaced, encrypted \u2014 is to incineration and to the 37 victims of the holocaust: The cinder is that thing . . . that remains after a material has burned, the cinders or ashes of a cigarette, of a cigar, of a human body, of a burned town. But from the moment this concept of cinders becomes the figure for everything that precisely loses its figure in incineration and thus in a certain disappearance . . . It is a trope that comes to take the place of everything that disappears without leaving an identifiable trace . . . Non-identifiable . . . Everything is annihilated in the cinders. Cinders is the figure of that of which not even cinders remains in a certain way. There is nothing that remains of it. (Derrida, 1995f, 391) The v ic t im is ghcest, g-host, cinder, an offering of ashes such that nothing remains of it. To say \"7 g-hcest therefore I am''' implies that the v ic t im is that which is always given away, vanished or missing. It is a host or hostia, that is, it is offered, sometimes eaten, sacrificed, capitulated, given up. The v ic t im, the category \"v ic t im,\" is an identity, an essence becoming ashes, incense, holocaust \"that happens to translate Opfer . . . sacrifice all holos is burnt (caustos) . . . the putting into play or the setting on fire of everything\" (Derrida, 1991a, 46). The v ic t im is no v ic t im, and strictly speaking this vict im's offering is not an offering. This sacrifice, this gift also gives itself up or disappears: it becomes itself cinders in the sense that it is no longer (ve)present-ab\\e, is incinerated and never becomes a presence, a determined concept called \"offering\" that can be appropriated. The offering vanishes, offers or bypasses itself so that it can never be transformed into another essence, or present thing. What I am trying to articulate is that \u2014 like Derrida's cinder (or trace) which appears by disappearing, by becoming itself \"effaced . . . carried off, incinerated\" (Derrida, 1995f, 391) \u2014 the v ic t im is the ghcest that presents her\/himself when s\/he is un-present-able, given up or when s\/he loses her\/his identity as v ic t im. Aporetically said, the v ic t im and her\/his vanishing or offering are not (or are by not being): they are put under erasure or under the a ? t e . The v ic t im as ghcest is an impossibility, therefore it is non-assimilable. It is the impossible v ic t im and the impossible host(ia) that must dispense with all determinations, that must even give itself up, including giving up all humanity. The ghcest bypasses the humanism of Western ontotheologies and all Allocentrisms that circumscribe the v ic t im as being-flesh or as being-Other-human (Woman, Lesbian, and so on): \"It has become meaningful in religious cultures for which carnivorous sacrifice is 38 essential, as being flesh. The other such as this . . . is indeed the other man: man as other, the other as man. Humanism of the other man\" (Derrida, 19951, 279). To Promise: Language as Bread Given to the Ghdzst There is one final observation that I wish to underline, which in an excessive, \"ethical\" sense concerns the \"promise\" of trauma, the gift of hetaerography, the gift of a?fee etc., in relation to language. This issue is very significant because the \"language\" I propose moves beyond the fact that I shall be reading as a Greek (gringa) two poets who write in Spanish and discussing them in English. The \"language\" I propose \u2014 which, strictly speaking, is not a tongue any longer \u2014 exceeds and challenges the uniqueness or exemplarity of Spanish or any other language, as well as what is celebrated in various Allocentric discourses as exemplarily feminine or, homoerotic writing, or mother tongue, or bi- or pluri-lingualism, heteroglossia, babelism, the recovered voice of the oppressed, orality, the Other's speech or the Other's writing, the Other's tongue. (To differentiate between what is commonly understood as language and the \"language of promise,\" I put the latter wi thin quotation marks.) Like all the undecidables that I shall be inventing, this \"language\" cannot be identified with anything at a l l , with any essence, or category of existing language or \" l in-gualism,\" or \"glossia,\" and cannot belong or be proper(ty) to femininity or to masculinity, to hetero-, b i - , or homo-sexuality, to animals or to humans, to a specific culture or ethnic-ity, to any particular Other. The \"language\" I am speaking of implies the disappearance of all identity, including its own identity. It is the ghcest, a phantasmatic \"tongue\" that effaces itself (its own self-identity), \"returns to the other, it exists assymetrically, always for the other, from the other, kept by the other, and returning to the other\" (Derrida, 1998a, 40), to the other otherwise than an Allocentric Other. Here neither the ghcest nor Derrida's other is to be understood as any category of person, subject, consciousness, etc., but rather as the structure of the \"promise.\" This extends to hetaerography Derrida's proposition of \"monolanguage\" as the pledge to the other. This is the \"promise\" of the other that informs or precedes any given language or languages in their \"givenness,\" in their as suchness or in the \"there is\" or \"there exists any language in particular.\" A n y language is essentially misspoken \u2014 just as the ghcest or hetaerography are misspoken \u2014 and fails to reach its self, its home. Hetaerographic 39 de-propriation entails this failure of language not only to be owned by any particular Other but also to own itself, to gather a unique identity for itself in the one (for example monolingualism) or two (in bilingualism) or two+n (in multi l ingualism). Derrida's \"we only ever speak one language and we do not own it ,\" his concept of a \"monolanguage,\" is not an allusion to monolingualism in any literal sense, and must not be understood as opposed to b i - or pluri-lingualism: This experience. . . [is] neither monolingual, nor bilingual, nor plurilingual. I t . . . [is] neither one, nor two, nor two+n.. . [This is a] properly improper (uncanny, unheimlich) situation of an uncountable language. . . . The One of the monolanguage of which I speak, and the one I speak, w i l l . . . not be an arithmetical identity or, in short, any identity at all. Monolanguage remains incalculable, at least in that characteristic. (Derrida emphasizes only \"n\" and \"unheimlich\". Derrida, 1998a, 29-30) Note here that I am distinguishing between what is commonly understood as language(s) and \"language\" as the effacement of identity. I am playing with two different levels. In the first instance the word language is taken literally and in the second, the same word means something else: namely, alterity. In accordance with the \"method\" of the double reading (established above) the usual (or literal) concept of language becomes a \"new concept\" (an invention) that aquires a different meaning and designates difference. This is analogous to Derrida's usage of writing in its literal sense and in its deconstructive meaning, whereby \"writing\" is employed as difference. Just as one \"writing\" should not be confused with the other, so too one \"language\" (as otherness) should not be conflated with the other or with any language in its literal meaning (French, English, Indo-European, Lat in , etc.). Just as hetcerography and the ghcest represent the incommesurable other, they also convey an incalculable and even impossible other \"tongue\" (\"language\" or \"writing\" in Derridean terms) beyond any exemplary and self-identical Other. They are a \"monolanguage\" that belongs to no determinable Other and cannot be recognized as feminine, masculine, ho-moerotic, written, spoken, human, heterosexual, or as belonging to any one. In a sense, the ghcest- \"language\" I am proposing is what in the preface of this study I designated as gringo language, expressing foreignness in general: foreignness as the originary condition by which all identifiable language begins by being other than itself. Hetaerography and the ghcest are a \"promise\" older than any identity or essence. They are an affirmative 40 excess that opens in hospitality into the future, as a \"messianic word\" given in advance to the as yet unrecognizable other or to what is to come: \"The promise of which I speak ... resembles messianism, soteriology, or eschatology. It is the structural opening, the messiania'iy [without messianism]\" that \"promises the impossible but also the possibility of all speech\" and the possibility of all self-identical (determined) language. This ghcest-\"language\" \"speak[s] of something else and . . . addressfes] itself to the other\" (Derrida, 1998a, 68 and 69, respectively). The diphthong ae or the 3r\\zG again convey this pecu-liar eschatology nicely: a for an arche \u2014 think here of arche-wri t ing \u2014 older than any identity and G for eschaton, the messianic promise of the other-to-come. Hetaerography is the other as CLrche and end. The ligature ae repeats what in Levinasian \"ethics\" is \"language\" as bound to alterity or as an ethical ob-ligation to the other. The ligature ae is ob-ligation to the ghcest. Once more the excessive \"language\" that hetaerography is, is offered in absolute hospitality like a host(ia), a gift to the other-ghcest, just as in the following extraordinary image taken from Levinas's hyperethics: \"language\" is bread given to the other, a \"gift . . . like the tongue (language) of my mouth when I tear bread from it to give it to the other\" (Derrida, 1991c, 20). The \"language\" I am speaking of in Levinas's terms is not verbal (see Chapter III), but a response and responsibility to the unencompassable and entirely other; it is commitment to the other that precedes and \"command[s] me 'to give to the Other by taking the bread out of my own mouth, and making a gift of my own skin. It means 'a denuding, an exposure to being affected, a pure susceptiveness.' Thus we have to understand the meaning of a self that is 'for the Other\" (Critchley on Levinas, 1991, 125). In this sense, hetaerography and the ghcest imply that all identities, al l exemplary, exclusive and masterful categories of a unique Other are powerless and susceptible, host-ages given to the incalculable other-ghcest wi th which everything begins (a rche) as a powerlessness and a trauma and ends (eschaton) as such: all essentialist (pseudo-)Others are impossible. This \"promise-language\" is traumatic, because it requires that one become other or lose one's identity and one's mother or father tongue, one's writing, voice, speech, etc. In the second chapter I wi l l call this \"tongue\" of oneself's absolute weakness a language of anguish and stammering blood and in the third chapter a language of re-morse and com-passion. 41 Itineraries As already indicated in the preface, this inquiry crosses more than one boundary and more than one discipline, moving between, beyond and across the philosophical, the ethical, the poli t ical , the literary, the theoretical, and people's actual experiences. A l l these barriers are traversed, cut and patched up, intertwined and negotiated, so that none of them remains intact and none dominates exemplarity over the other. I wi l l both read poetry and theorize, \"analyze\" and \"deconstruct\" poetic texts and simultaneously propose a possible theory of a fugitive, incoercible and erasable other, a hetasros on the run that can never belong or be in any sense. The inventions proposed are new, but singularly appropriate in the Hispanic context. Furthermore, the constructs of these inappropriate\/d alterities are not the same for each poet or each case of Allocentr ism (essentialist feminism, or essentialist lesbianism), and the a im is not a unique construct encompassing all others. These inventions spring from hetaerography as a general \"concept\" for deconstructing a metaphysics of Al ter i ty or Allocentrism, and although they work in one general direction, they can be adapted to individual cases of essentialist identities and determinations (such as masculine or feminine, heterosexual or bisexual, etc.) or exemplary (pseudo-)Others under deconstruction. In this sense (and never abandoning the double bind), they are all the same yet differ from hetaerography and from each other, as well as from Derrida's structures, in so far as they depend on, and are constructed according to, the specific context of the particular poet in question, to the extent that it can be delineated. In the following two chapters, I wi l l focus on two mujerista accounts or Allocentrisms, each grounded on, or privileging, a specific exemplarity or a singular (pseudo-)Other. The second chapter takes issue with the Allocentrism that favours Woman-Mother and sexual difference in the Argentinian Diana Bellessi's Eroica (1988). The third chapter questions the essentialist concept of the Lesbian Other and the category of sexuality in the Chilean Soledad Farina's Albricia (1988). Each analysis develops a set of related images. Bellessi's onto-theo-logics of sexual difference, uses weaving as an image of essentialist ecriture feminine, implying a female essence that reflects Irigaray's position that \"women's liberation, and indeed the liberation of humanity [!] depends upon the definition of a female generic, that is, a definition of what woman is\" (Irigaray, 1996, 65). I w i l l invent 42 a structure called hy(i)lography, alluding simultaneously to the Greek hyle as matter and the Spanish hilo as thread. This invention playfully combines and exceeds a number of concepts that serve to un-ground the Allocentr ism of an essentialist feminism based on Woman-Other in Bellessi's poetry. In the Argentinian context hy(i)lography wi l l serve to recall the disappeared. The third chapter wi l l deconstruct Farina's (ph)allocentrism or homoiophylophilia founded on the category of homosexuality and the Lesbian Other, which both function as essentialist identities. A n aporetic structure that I call valva, drawn from Farina's text, becomes a codeword which plays with attributes that are male, female, human, non-human, animal, or inorganic, etc. It simultaneously evokes notions of passage and impasse, border closing and opening, passing (it) and so on. It is linked to closeting as the encryption, self-withdrawal and self-effacement of the \"Lesbian\" essence. Valva implies the self-surviving or endurance of the exemplary Lesbian Other as being other than herself, and therefore is what is described in Levinasian and Derridean terms as utter selflessness or com-passion, the mortification and losing of oneself. The structure of the valva or valve evokes (without being conflated with) other histories of impasse and no pasardn: Chile 's mil i tary junta, and Spain's violent history of expulsions of its religious and ethnic others. \"Methodology\" The reason I surround the word \"methodology\" within quotation marks is to indicate that the \"methodology\" of this study borrows heavily from Derrida's \"exorbitant procedures\" in Of Grammatology, and by extension it recalls all the problems Derrida has posited with regards to the system, the unity, the identity and the concept of method. I have already alluded indirectly to \"methodological\" questions throughout this introduction to hetaerography. I wi l l attempt in this subsection to sort them out and reassemble them, in order to provide a general and compact view of my approach to the texts I wi l l read. Although the same general \"methodology\" wi l l be applied to the two texts to be discussed, it wi l l be adapted to the context of each individual text and the reading tools each of-fers. Following Derrida, who applies a number of different structures (similar but never identical) in his readings of different texts, derived from the texts he reads, the inventions 43 produced here to discuss alterities wi l l differ for each text, and affect the readings. The deconstructive, hetaerographic \"concepts\" introduced are never external to the text I read: \"Deconstruction does not consist in passing from one concept to another, but in over-turning and displacing a conceptual order, as well as the non-conceptual order with which the conceptual order is articulated\" (Derrida, 1982d, 329). These evocations of alterities originate in the text as its own \"signifying structures\" (Derrida, 1976, 158) and function as the very im-possibilities of both that particular text and the exemplary or essentialist concept of Other that grounds and inspires i t . The general approach is as follows: 1) A l l possible resources or means of reading are strategically and provisionally extracted from and returned to the texts. When these alterities are re-attached to the text they become altered into something other than themselves. No longer of the same conceptual or metaphysical order as the discourse from which they were previously extracted, they are now something other than it; they are the unthought structural possibility of this Allocentric discourse and of its exemplary Other. 2) To recapitulate, the goal is to deconstruct the metaphysics of Alteri ty, to reveal the exemplarity of al l unique and essentialist Others and the hierarchy such an exemplarity creates. On the one hand, the unthought inventions of otherness produced resemble an other excluded from the individual discursive system of exemplarity that they unsettle. For instance, the structure of hy(i)lography and the disappeared in Bellessi's poetry com-municates with Argentina's missing, excluded from this poetry. However, I do not wish to favor one other at the expense of another. To privilege the disappeared over Woman would be to substitute one hierarchy and one Allocentr ism for another, and to repeat the disappearance or exclusions the feminine had suffered within phallologocentrism or within \"patriarchical\" structures. To privilege one over the other would not effect the overthrow of hierarchy and exemplarity, which are in fact the problem, but consolidate them sti l l further, and by extension would reassert previous exclusions and violent acts committed against the feminine. The unthought disappeared communicates ghostly or paleonymically with an excluded other (and with woman when \"she\" is the 44 excluded), but it exceeds both Argentina's missing and Bellessi's essentialist Woman. It resists exemplarity and hierarchization, in so far as it is an-other other, a hetaeros, a heterogeneity, a hetaerographic invention that make im-possible both the hierarchy and its opposing poles: it is beyond the sexual (Woman) and the poli t ical (the disappeared prisoner). It is analogous to Derrida's paleonymic invention of archi-writing, which is not writing in any literal sense, but a \"new\" concept miming the old concept of writ ing and exceeding both speech and writing, as well as \"the . . . logocentric hierarchy,\" which was favoring one over the other (Derrida, 1982d, 330). Here, archi-writing indicates difference-deferral. Tending towards the more \"ethical\" and \"polit ical orientations\" of Derrida's recent work, this study wi l l insist on an unencompassable hetaeros or other, and the approach wi l l sug-gest a radicalization of the tactics of paleonymics without abandoning them entirely. M y tactics can be called hetcerographics, the invention of terms for impossible alterities be-yond Allocentr ism that can no longer be singled out, essentialized, hierarchized, identified, categorized, assimilated and subjugated. They elude an identity and thus cannot be anni-hilated or disappeared as such. Hetaerographics is constructed as a tactics of hospitality, a welcoming invitation to an inappropriable ghcest, the open door to the future other yet to come. The \"future other that is yet to come\" does not refer to an imaginary, non-existent, or utopic other, since it relates to concrete historico-politico-sexual experiences and existing categories of otherness (such as the disappeared, women, lesbians, etc.). The above phrase is used as as safeguard against re-presenting or knowing the (real) other and subject-ing \"her\" alterity. Above all the words \"future\" and \"yet to come\" are not employed literally to mean something that does not exist but have themselves a paleonymic differential sense. (For a further discussion of these aspects see chapter III). 3) I wi l l frequently make use of another Derridean reading strategy, which wi l l become more prominent in the third chapter. Instead of anulling and\/or neutralizing contradic-tions, paradoxes, aporias and inconsistencies inherent in the texts, I wi l l actively insist on them and exacerbate them by leaving them open, unresolved and unsettled. These unsettling indeterminacies, aporias and inconsistencies constitute and threaten al l A l l o -centric discourses and all so-called principal, exemplary, and re-presentable, subject-able 45 and determined categories of Other. The \"logic\" of aporia and undecidability, is conserved in all these inventions, like the threat of the a ? t e destabilizes all determinations, exem-plarity and mastery. The other cannot be exemplified, re-presented and known, cannot be mastered. Apor ia is inevitable in theorizing a structure that implies \"Woman with-out Woman,\" yet I do not abandon feminism and the feminine. Rather, I attempt to radicalize them by open-ing them aporetically to their other. The same can be argued in regard to queer discourses, and even Marxist discourses (as in Derrida's famous \u2014 and much misunderstood \u2014 aporia Marxism without Marxism in Specters of Marx). M y discussion does not offer any secure grounds to found any such centrism with its own agendas. M y proposition of a hyper- or excessive feminism is intended as a feminist proposition. Hyperfeminism is an invention, another name for undecidability, for keeping the \"feminine\" and the \"lesbian\" structurally indeterminate, \"messianic,\" and thus inappropriate\/d. Consequently this aporetic femi-nism of the with-out cannot be reduced to a dialectical schema that either opposes and negates woman or converts woman into an exclusionary agent that ultimately reproduces and secures an inverted phallogocentrism and displaces someone else. I wi l l come back to hyperfeminism in the second and third chapters as well in the \"Conclusion\" of this study. I avoid relating this \"feminism without feminism,\" to debates over strategic essentialism, a term which has been so much misused and abused, so that it ends up re-affirming and consolidating essentialism (which now favours an excluded other, for example, Woman). M y aim is to pass from this phase of affirmation to a more disruptive and excessive one that requires moving beyond all essences, including that of woman or lesbian. This study takes issue with discourses and systems of representation that in my view essentialize women's and lesbians' alterity and effect this alterity's assimilation. Its most urgent concern is to safeguard women's and the lesbians' otherness from any attempts (intentional or innocent, open or disguised) to reduce this otherness to another instance of appropriable identity. This project tries desperately to maintain women and lesbians and their alterity as radically hetaerographic or hetaerogeneous. 46 Notes 1. Derrida is citing John's Apocalypse (The Bible, Revelation, 17: 1) in Derrida, 1999b, 152. 2. Derrida, 1989b, 39. 3. From now on, when the word \"Other\" is capitalized, it refers to an essentialist Otherness. However, when the same word appears in smaller case it alludes to an undecidable \"concept\" of alterity that cannot be converted into a determinable essence or identity. 4. Joseph T. Shirley, 1984, 320-22. 5. Derrida contends: \" l[H]ymen'... at least in the context into which [this]... word [has]...been swept, no longer simply designatefs] [a] figure of the feminine body. [It]., .no longer do[es] so, that is, assuming that one knows for certain what a feminine or masculine body is, and assuming that anatomy is in this instance the final recourse.\" (Derrida, 1995d, 105). The hymen is a structure of undecidability. 6. In Derrida's terms this is the becoming-space of time or the becoming-time of space, which connect the hymen with differance, the structure of the archi-trace, archi-writing, etc. Spacing and interval describe the movement of the not-yet, delay, belatedness and interruption, which a self-present element must suffer in order to be self-present. In Differance, Derrida gives a succinct account of spacing and temporization: It is because of differance that the movement of signification is possible only if each so-called \"present\" element, each element appearing on the scene of presence, is related to something other than itself, thereby keeping within itself the mark of the past element, and already letting itself be vitiated by the mark of its relation to the future element, this trace being related to the future element, this trace being related no less to what is called the present by means of this very relation to what it is not: what it absolutely is not, not even a past or a future as a modified present. An interval must separate the present from what it is not in order for the present to be itself, but this interval that constitutes it as present must, by the same token, divide the present in and of itself, thereby also dividing, along with the present, everything that is thought on the basis of the present, that is, in our metaphysical language, every being, and singularly substance or the subject. In consituting itself, in dividing itself dynamically, this interval is what might be called spacing, the becoming-space of time or the becoming-time of space (temporization). (Derrida, 1982d, 13) 7. Note that here I am attempting to raise philosophical or conceptual questions about the term \"other\" and create the multiple hetaeros as that term's excess just as Derrida in Of Grammatology, for example, questions Saussure's concept of difference and constructs differance. My purpose at this point is not to discuss issues of what is the general consensus about this word or any word, term or category. What deconstruction has shown time and again is precisely that all words or concepts (including the word 47 \"other\" or \"difference\") can never be identical to themselves. Derrida's trace implies that any concept's self-identity is always shifting and impossible to come back to itself. For a feminist critique of the issue of consensus concerning concepts of language see Jane Flax's \"The End of Innocence,\" 1992, 453. 8. Caputo, 1993b, 457. 9. The term \"invention\" here does not mean \"imaginary.\" Invention in Derridean terms relates to differance, and describes something that comes (in-venir) as a differed-deferred presence or postponed identity. This is why invention is linked to the not yet which is not the utopic or the unreal. (For a detailed discussion of this aspect, see Chapter III.) 10. To hear-oneself-speak is Derrida's expression. In Speech and Phenomena Derrida points out that in Husser-lian terms: The voice is heard. Phonic signs. ..or the phenomenological voice... are heard [entendus = \"heard\" plus \"understood\"] by the subject who proffers them in the absolute proximity of their present. . . My words are \"alive\" because they seem not to leave me: not to fall outside me, outside my breath, at a visible distance . . . When I speak, it belongs to the phenomenological essence of this operation that I hear myself [je m'entends] at the same time that I speak. The signifier, animated by my breath and by the meaning-intention (in Husserl's language, the expression animated by the Bedeutungsintention), is in absolute proximity to me. The living act, the life-giving act, the Lebendigkeit which animates the body of the signifier and transforms it into a meaningful expression, the soul of language seems not to separate itself, from its own self-presence. (Derrida, 1996, 76-7) Derrida calls this hearing-oneself-speak \"pure auto-affection:\" [H]earing oneself speak [s'entendre parler] is experienced as an absolutely pure auto-affection, occuring in a self-proximity that would in fact be the absolute reduction of space in general... Requiring the intervention of no determinate surface in the world, being produced in the world as pure auto-affection, it is a signifying substance absolutely at our disposition. For the voice meets no obstacle to its emission in the world precisely because it is produced as pure auto-affection. (Derrida, 1996, 79) In this experience everything originates and comes back to self in an acoustic and narcissistic auto-reflection. 11. The diphthong is like a tissue, a cord of lineage. The Greek word omphalos for umbilical cord is linked to uphe and uphainein or woven cloth and \"to weave.\" See also Derrida's discussion of the rhetorics of omphalos and weaving in Freud's concept of (psycho-)analysis in \"Resistances,\" 1998c, 14-5. 12. Derrida, 1978e, 104-5. 48 13. Baudrillard, 1993, 124. 49 Chapter II The Disappeared (Other): Reading Poems From Diana Bellessi's Eroica Overview To deconstruct the subject of feminism [\"woman\"] is not . . . to censure its usage, but, on the contrary, to release the term into a future of multiple significations, to emancipate it from the maternal or racialist ontologies to which it has been restricted, and to give it play as a site where unanticipated meanings might come to bear. Judith Butler 1 This chapter focuses on the poetic work of Diana Bellessi in her book, Eroica, published in 1988. The text of the poems in Spanish and in English (my translations) is appended to this study. Li t t le information is available about Bellessi, who belongs to a new poetic generation recently emerging in Lat in America . The poems collected in Eroica emphasize questions of gender, the female body, its anatomy, sexuality, its pleasures or its desires. Her poetic descriptions make use of references to other art forms such as textiles, puppetry, and architecture. There are eighteen poems in the book, written in an extremely hermetic and complex language, illustrating one reason why some critics have characterized the poetry of this generation as elitist. The poems that wi l l not be discussed here deploy many of the same themes and images as those which I wi l l analyze. Throughout Eroica there is a constant preoccupation with writing (as body-writing), the poetic word, language use, textual production, and the female body. A great number of images explored in this chapter appear in many of Eroica's poems. These images that recur connect poetry with other art forms and cultural artefacts, and refer to masks, ghosts, shadows and shadow theatre, sculpting and dissecting, weaving, dancing, the hand, the body linked to the word, voice and music. A number of poems (in particular those included in one of Eroica^ sections called \"Dual\") deal with the themes of the double and replication, and raise the philosophical questions concerning sameness and difference\/otherness explored here. The poems I wi l l read have been chosen because they bring together most of the above themes 50 and images. Although there are as yet no crit ical works that I am aware of about Bellessi's poetic work that can inform my own reading, I wi l l deal here with the \"context\" that gives rise to her book, and that her book challenges, and examine both the themes and tropes of her poems. However, this chapter is not simply a crit ical reading of Bellessi's poems; it also offers a discussion and critiques of concepts of sexual difference grounded in the exemplarity of a female Other identified as such. I wi l l attempt to destabilize the concepts of sexual differ-ence and of Woman , 2 precisely because in Diana Bellessi's Eroica they are two paradigmatic categories that name and reduce difference to the sexual, and master alterity in the unique name of Woman. According to my argument, this type of feminist, essentialist reclamation of the female Other is ultimately nothing but the return of Woman to the metaphysics of identity, essence, presence, consciousness, self, etc. This is a return to the onto-theo-logy of Difference and of Woman. In this feminine allocentrism or egocentrism of the singular female Other, female alterity is no longer an alterity. It is a determined and rehabilitated Other given a name, a gender, an anatomy, hetero-sexuality, and even a feminine writing that Bellessi identifies as maternal weaving. B y extension, encompassed under the singular category of the sexual, and of Woman, sexual difference is no longer difference. Both the so-called female Other and sexual difference are instances of identity that can be appropriated as such. The main argument of this chapter is that there are no such things as the female Other and sexual difference, and there never have been, and therefore they cannot be reclaimed and assimilated by any discourse. To make this point I wi l l write about female alterity and sexual difference in terms of disappearance. The following deconstructive reading is of a type rarely, if ever, attempted in feminist and Hispanic studies; it is risky and, I am therefore being very cautious and scrupulous in explaining the terms I use in specific ways. The term disappearance here is derived from the poli t ical reality of Argentina's missing (los desaparecidos), while it is simultaneously modified because it makes use of Derridean effects of effacement and disappearance. Although in my reading \"to be missing\" is perhaps one of the most significant effects of alterity, there are a number of such terms that play with the two theoretico-political 51 contexts mentioned above (i.e. Derridean \"concepts\" of disappearance and Argentina's reality of the missing) in order to insinuate that the other, any other, is that which is always inappropriate\/d and \"vanished.\" The other is gone, disappeared, transferred, missing. Because specifically the female Other is at issue here, some of these terms play at another level with a (presumably) feminine materiality that Diana Bellessi's poems propose. In order to sort out some of the \"notions\" drawn from Bellessi's poetry (but here altered into hetasrographic structures of disappearance), the following list is useful \u2014 with the warning that it is reductive and is created only provisionally, to facilitate the suggested reading paths: 1) Hy(i)lography, for instance (a combination of the Greek hyle as matter, hilar, to weave and hilo, thread), toys with and exceeds the problematic notions of female anatomy based on a reproductive matrix: Woman's sex and her natural threads of shame, weaving as feminine writ ing and so on. \"Natural threads of shame\" is my ironic reference to Freud's misogynous conception of female pubic hair as a \"thick vei l\" supposedly given to Woman by nature so that she can conceal her so-called genital deficiency. Freud considers plaiting and weaving \u2014 cultural inventions of domesticity, which, according to h im are proper to Woman \u2014 as imitat ing nature's model: namely, Woman's pubic hair or natural threads hiding the shame of her genitals, just as clothes cover the nakedness of the body (see Kofman's citation introducing my \" 'MethodogicaP Notes,\" below, p. 56). Because the poems continually refer to natural and cultural threads \u2014 as if almost repeat-ing Freud's misogynous conception \u2014 such as textiles, masks, cloths and covers, I wi l l open this feminine specificity to the poli t ical and the ethical by l inking Woman, the exemplary female Other, to a cover or cowl of betrayal (capucha). This gives me the opportunity to raise hyperethico-political issues and to argue that any exemplary and privileged Other in becoming unique, excludes, erases and betrays all others, in \"her\/its\" unique name. Again, capucha is a \"term\" taken from the Argentinian poli t ical reality of collaborators with the mil i tary junta. 2) Sometimes hy(i)lography wi l l be called hy(i)loglyphics. Here the hilos or strings are connected with \"uncanny\" puppets \u2014 their \"uncanniness\" wi l l be explained soon \u2014 and wi th statues, through the Greek glyphics which is related to sculpture, to a mil i tary coup, 52 or to a writ ing instrument, and has the same etymology as kolpos, the Greek word for vagina. Glyphics wi l l designate a type of violent writ ing \u2014 beyond ecriture feminine \u2014 that effaces, or disappears the essence \"Woman.\" In its association with the a ^ t e , glyphics is an allusion to scarring, defacement and torture, again drawn from Argentina's polit ical past which haunts this chapter. 3) The \"uncanny dance of puppets\" denotes indeterminacy, the dancing or the unsettling of sexual signs, and in particular of the sign \"Woman.\" Again , two different contexts are implic i t ly intertwined in my theorization of this dance, the one affecting the other. The first is taken from Derrida and his \"polysexual dance,\" a choreography or a \"chorus of blended voices\" that moves beyond one Other, beyond a singular sex and even beyond the feminine (Derrida, 1995d, 107-8). The second opens the first dance to polit ical dimensions. The dance I am theorizing is also a reference to a kind of torture in Argentina called \"the dance,\" which the privileged female Other of Bellessi's poetry inadvertently re-enacts by excising and erasing the polit ical other (i.e., the disappeared) from its exemplary space. Bellessi's advocacy for feminine writing effects this violent excision, as the stylus of ex-emplary feminine weaving becomes a scalpel, an instrument of torture. If Woman or the female Other (as categories) wants to be unique and exemplary and dance alone, then such a privileged category's dance of exemplarity is a violent dance of exclusions. 4) \"Daedalus\" is a god of crafting, sculpting and writing, whose name is etymologically related to female genitalia. Here this word reiterates the significations of hy(i)lographics and hy(i)loglyphics. It is further connected to other effects that denote the uncanny ghcest: spectrality, specularity, simulation, disfigurement, defacement-effacement, shadows, repli-cation, ventriloquism, etc. In its \"polit ical dimensions,\" Daedalus is an allusion to the cavernous, the prisons, the graves, the torture chambers where one disappears for ever. This god of the a ^ t e implies: a) a traumatic self-disappearance and self-defacement; b) the implici t exclusion and violence that the exemplary feminine Other inflicts upon others given lesser value because they are not included (here Argentina's poli t ical prisoners). This list wi l l be enriched with other het aerograph! c structures all presupposing one another. These structures, drawn from Bellessi's text itself, show it as a book of poetry grounded in the allocentric category of the female Other that reads itself against itself, never returning 53 complacently to its selfsame. We shall have the opportunity to consider these structures in detail. A further explanation is needed here, concerning an ideal reading of the following section. There is a visual effect which I shall give only once, but which is presupposed throughout this chapter, divided into sections called \"Footnotes of Dance.\" This is a title that seems to be dangling from strings attached to the symbol (as presented in the following section entitled \"Footnotes of Dance: 'Methodological ' Notes\"). I have created this symbol by splitting the diphthong 33 of hetaerography. The *\\z here resembles the wooden cross from which a puppeteer controls her\/his puppets. Because I am speaking of a dance of oscil-lation and indeterminacy, of unheimlich figures and \"feet that dance by themselves,\" and of a traumatic and violent dance that communicates with torture \u2014 without quite being it \u2014 I provide dance foot-notes suspended on the page like uncanny puppets. The word \"footnotes,\" is taken in various senses. It refers to Freud's uncanny \"feet that dance by themselves,\" or to his discussion of the uncanny based on wooden dolls, automata, or wax-work figures as severed limbs and bodies. I wi l l later elaborate on this with the assistance of Marjorie Garber's essay on puppets, \"Out of Joint.\" \"Footnotes of Dance\" is also an allusion to Derrida's polysexual choreography, literally a notation made by dancing feet. \"Footnotes\" further refers to what is conventionally called a footnote in academic writ-ing, obviously altered here into something else, and it even suggests disfigured \"dancing\" bodies, where dance is torture and the ftz is a wounding instrument. The entire visual effect is intended to evoke the implici t exclusions that Bellessi's exem-plary female Other inflicts on its others and Woman's own self-disappearance and self-defacement. In addition, and more importantly, it is meant to haunt and traumatize my own discourse, to suggest the displacement and disappearance my discourse exercises upon its own others, to those my writing keeps silent about and forgets. This is a hyperethical moment. Inscribed here and within any discourse, carved with an a ^ t e , are al l these others one wants to disappear and forget about, but that one is never able to forget. For they keep haunting Bellessi's Woman, and this chapter, like ghassts, just when one thinks that one has managed to chase them away. \"Footnotes of Dance\" is also an altar and a monument to the memory of this study's own disappeared. This is why the first \"foot-54 note\" is framed as i f it were a sculpted altar or gravestone, carved with an a ? t e . Another \"footnote\" wi l l later make the same point by simply giving actual names of people who \"disappeared\" during the mil i tary regime in Argentina. Quotations introduce these eary and spectral \"footnotes\" that inhabit my text, citations from either critics or other writers, which are relevant to various themes of this chapter, such as the puppet, the labyrinth, etc. \"Methodological\" Notes \\ '[A]ctL8a\\o<;: [Dsedalos] SaiSciXeoq 'artistement travaille;' AacSaXoq; SaiSciXXto 'tra-vailler avec art': skr. dalati 'crever, eclater' dalayati 'fendre' dalam parte arrachee, morceau, moitie (puis danda- m. ou n. 'baton, gourdin, massue' < i.-e. *dol-ndo- ou *del-o o ndo-...), lat. dolo 'faconner, charpenter' dolabra 'doloire' dolium 'tonneau'...mod. 'forme, figure'...,m.h.a. zol( l) . . . is-zolle 'glacon' m.b.a. tol tolle 'branche, extremited'unebranche' need, tol '*cheville; toupie'...; < *dl-no- *dl-na-. . . v. norr. taiga 'coupe, taille' telgia o o 'tailler'm.h.a. zelge zelch 'branche' (base dele-gh cf lit. dalgis 'faux'v. id. dluigim 'scindo' in-dlung 'Undo')... dalis 'parte'(= skr. dah'h 'motte de terre'...) tal 'empreinte signe, vers' talem j' imprime, je marque au fer chaud'... cf. s.v. SciXXei [dallei], StXroq [deltos], [SeXra, delta], SnXtopac [deleomai], [8r\\Xr)rr\\piov, deleterion] AtXra: [Delta] < hebr. dalet, cf delet 'porte'; par analogie, pays en forme de A: 'delta' ^ ; des bouches du Nil...; 'aiSofov ^vvatKtiou' [lit. honte feminine ou organes genitaux ^ y feminines]...; f etym. qui, dans ce dernier sens, faisait de SeXra un mot independant (< \\ i *g^e\\-)apparentea skr. jartuh Vu\/va'jatharam 'ventre'got. ki lpei 'matrice'(...cf. s.v. . ^ I \u00b0 \u00b0 I ^ \/ v ^ 55 - ^ \\ Bpt4>oq [nouveau-ne, be'be, petit enfant]) \u2022 [Tympanum, vestibular canal] \"Anatomical term. Irregular cavity that is part of the in-ner ear. Genital vestibule, the vulva and all its parts up to the membrane of the hy-men exclusively. Also the name of the triangular space limited in front and laterally by the ailerons of the nymphs [small lips of the vulva] and in back by the orifice of the ure-thra. .. \" Littre. . .Tympanum, Dionysianism, labyrinth, Ariadne's thread. We are now trav-eling through (upright, walking, dancing), included and enveloped within it, never to emerge, the form of an ear constructed around a barrier, going round its inner walls, a city, therefore (labyrinth, semicircular canals \u2014 warning: the spiral walkways do not hold) circling around like a stairway winding around a lock, a dike (dam) stretched out toward the sea; closed in on itself and open to the sea's path. Full and empty of its water, the anamnesis of the concha [in Spanish, slang for cunt], resonates alone on a beach. Jacques Derrida4 If woman is silent, if she keeps a \"thick veil\" drawn over herself and her sex, she must have her reasons, and good reasons, for wishing to remain enigmatic: she has to hide that \"cavity filled with puss,\" she has to hide the fact that she has \"nothing\" to hide. By seeking to make herself enigmatic, woman is only continuing the work begun by nature, which covered over her sex with pubic hair. Woman, in inventing weaving, was only \"imitating\" nature. .. [Freud:] \"Shame [Scham], which is considered to be a feminine characteristic par excellence but is far more a matter of convention than might be supposed, has as its purpose, we believe, concealment of genital deficiency. We are not forgetting that at a later time shame takes on other functions. It seems that women have made few contributions to the discoveries and inventions in the history of civilization; there is, however, one technique which they may have invented \u2014 that of plaiting and weaving. If that is so, we should be tempted to guess the unconscious motive for the achievement. Nature herself would seem to have given the model which this achievement imitates by causing the growth at maturity of the pubic hair that conceals the genitals. The step that remained to be taken lay in making the threads adhere to one another, while on the body they stick into the skin and are only matted together.\" Sarah Kofman5 It is the exemplary Other sex that this chapter \"deconstructs.\" Because the poems llll Emile Boisacq 3 I I 56 Bellessi that I shall be reading insist on a female corporeality presumed to be specifically centered around female genitalia, the reader wi l l notice that many of my differential struc-tures play with this so-called feminine or sexual specificity while exceeding it and making it vanish. Even what I call hy(i)lography plays with feminine writing as weaving, only to overcome it and become the very disappearance of the essence of \"feminine weaving.\" For feminine weaving becomes an essentialist, maternal counterpart to the paternal logos, celebrated by a certain feminism. Weaving as a form of ecriture feminine is an essentialist category like the concept \"female Other,\" which sustains \"feminist\" (ph)allocentrism in a reversed economy. In this \"feminist\" (ph)allocentrism it is not the Law of the Father that now has the upper hand, but its Other: feminine writing, Woman, the mother, the previously excluded. \"Feminist\" (ph)allocentrism replaces phallo-logo-centrism, a mujerista economy replaces a machista account, but the potential violence of exemplarity remains. Matter and body, mother and Woman, writ ing, the Other Sex (which is not one, to recall Irigaray) t r iumph over spirit, logos, speech, the One Sex (read male): but nothing has changed, there is st i l l a head and a phallus\/variation or equivalent, an exemplary excluded Other, that now herself excludes and dominates. The master has only changed names: female ph-Allos for male phallus, gynocentrism versus phallocentrism, and mujerismo versus machismo. In this chapter and in general, I align myself with radical feminists who seek to theorize Woman as \"inessential\" or as an impossibility. Beyond the constraints of gender, sexu-ality, sexual difference, the number and the opposition of two, the identifiable sexes and opposites W o m a n \/ M a n , and the dialectics of mujerismo versus machismo, I shall write of the Woman-Other as yet more radically other or otherwise than such an essence of a st i l l identifiable Alteri ty. I shall appeal to the innumerable, an unrecognizable Woman that has disappeared as such, has not yet happened, \"does not exist. She can never exist, and this is because she is always to come\" (Caputo, 2000, 144). I shall write of woman as ghcest, the stranger, wholly other, to whom we owe the most absolute hospitality. This hospitality entails a resistance to identifying her, giving her a proper name of Otherness, or a property we can allegedly reclaim, vindicate, and possess. We owe this welcome to the other: to never know \"her\" as a \"who,\" or whether the other is a \"she,\" or i f it \"is\" at al l : \"one 57 cannot and should not submit the other in general, in other words the 'who' of the other that could only appear absolutely as such by disappearing as other\" (Derrida, 1995i, 275). W i t h i n the Derridean and Levinasian hyperethical context of the tout autre, Caputo speaks of a woman as a Messiah that is yet to come. Rewrit ing Maurice Blanchot's story of the coming of the Messiah, Caputo tells this tale: Once, when the messianic woman was to be found disguised, dressed in rags, among the wretched of the earth, someone approached her and, identifying her as the Messiah said, \"when will you come?\". The point of this story, . . . is that we not confuse the coming (venue) of the Messiah with his \u2014 we rewrite \u2014 her presence. For the Messianic Woman is always to come, structurally to come, so that she cannot be identified or reduced to her presence, and indeed is'meant to confound the present, to disturb and disrupt the present. Thus, in a way that Lacan never dreamed, it is true to say that the Messianic Woman does not exist. (Caputo, 2000, 144) It could be argued that Blanchot's or Caputo's allegory is a masculine fantasy projected upon women and must be dismissed as such. However, in her \"feminist alliance with deconstruction\" Druci l la Cornell (who has inspired my own theorization of hyperfeminism) establishes an \"ethical feminism\" (Cornell , 1993, 59 and 100) which is oriented towards Derrida's and Levinas's wholly other and conceptualizes \"woman\" as the messianic tout autre that comes as excess beyond presence and identity. Instead of \"remaining] under the sway of masculine symbolism\" (Cornell , 1993, 105), Cornell 's messianic or \"ethical feminism\" implies a change of imaginaries that transforms the masculine images of the Messiah into a \"feminine\" figure. Cornell writes that woman is an impossibility, a not-yet, something that we cannot know \"what 'sex' [it] is or what it cannot be . . . Love for the Other as the heteros, as other begins where any system of knowledge that attempts to capture the Other, leaves off\" (Cornell , 1997, 197). A n in-vention (the in-coming) of the other-to-come involves a dis-appeared woman, with no assured determination or essence. A n \"ethical\" feminism \u2014 beyond a (ph)Allocentrism vindicating One exemplary Other \u2014 wil l no longer be a po-li t ical program and a manifesto recognizing exclusively the rights of the feminine and the maternal\/heterosexual at the expense of others: \"ethical feminism rests its claim . . . not on what women 'are,' but on the remembrance of the 'not yet' which is recollected in both 58 allegory and myth\" (Cornell, 1993, 59) such as the allegory of a woman messiah. I proposed an excessive feminism based on Druc i l la Cornell 's \"feminist alliance wi th deconstruction\" that wi l l not comply with any -ism, and wi l l belong neither to machismo nor to its in-versed copy, mujerismo. It wi l l not be attached to any name, anatomy, body, or person. This hyperfeminism implies a constant questioning and displacement of the constraints of sex and of the very opposition that relies exclusively on man and woman (and on human beings) hierarchically posited and pitted against each other. This feminism I am speaking of wi l l not only invent woman but also itself, inventing \"unheard-of and incalculable sexual differences . . . at a distance from the main forum of feminist activity\" (Derrida, 1995d, 93). This feminism wi l l be unrecognizable, undecidable because it wi l l be a questioning of all identity including itself; it wi l l be what puts a sexual determination under question, an unheard-of feminism, a feminism with-out feminism that exceeds itself as well as its grounding category of Woman. It \"disturbs and disrupts\" the being-present of Woman and turns towards the unrecognizable and the incalculable \"woman\" as the tout autre. This wi l l be a feminism so radically hospitable and open to the imminent and unknown heteros that it wi l l even give up its most precious possession, the essence of \"female Other,\" as well as giving itself up as Woman's (ph)allocentric proprietor. It wi l l capitulate and renounce any property claims in the most hospitable offering of all its possessions to the ghest, a gift to the \"woman\" messiah yet-to-come. Hyperfeminism does not possess anyone and anything, and in fact takes issue with all attempts to appropriate the other. Its radicality consists of the fact that it would rather safeguard women's alterity by keeping it aporetic or undecidable, and thus, non-appropriable (as identity or essence). Hyperfeminism may be thought of as a \"deconstructive process\" of violent structures from, but also beyond, the point of view of the feminine, and like deconstruction, it always finds itself in-between, never settling into any particular ontological ground, and never taking for granted any category of homogeneity, whether it be called \"the feminine\" or \"the mascu-line,\" \"the human\" or \"the non-human,\" etc. In the following citation, Derrida speaks of democracy as deconstruction, but one can also think of hyperfeminism in the same terms, namely, as a process of continuous questioning, cri t icism, deconstruction \u2014 democracy as it is understood in Derrida's radical terms (to be discussed in the next chapter). Der-59 r ida writes of deconstruction: \"one keeps this indefinite right to the question, to cri t icism, to deconstruction (guaranteed rights, in principle, in any democracy: no deconstruction without democracy, no democracy without deconstruction)\" (Derrida, 1997, 105). It is not fortuitous, therefore, that I have linked this hyperfeminism with deconstruction, with Druci l la Cornell 's \"ethical feminism,\" and with the (ethico-)political realm as it unfolds in Lat in America 's violent history of fascism. Hyperfeminism is the questioning (the decon-struction) of the violence of the unique in any of its forms, and is consequently a constant demand for democracy and justice. Although hyperfeminism is an anti-essentialist femi-nism that takes issue with all attempts to essentialize the feminine, sexual difference or woman, I s t i l l consider it as linked to a democracy and justice that takes into account the feminine, which was a previously displaced or disappeared in Lat in American culture. Hyperfeminism relates deconstruction and Derrida's idea of democracy to the feminine and to women (and lesbians), as among Lat in America 's missing vict ims. Although Derrida does not propose such a feminism or hyperfeminism connected to democracy in Politics of Friendship, he adapts the point of view of the feminine\u2014 so to speak \u2014 by critiquing the traditional concept of democracy as a phallologocentric concept. In short, hyperfeminism comes from and also exceeds the point of view of the feminine, and implies a radical in-terventionist, democratic-feminist politics that interferes with, critiques and interrupts al l exclusionary structures. In accordance with this radical feminism, which I am inventing here, the differential struc-tures that cut across the feminine are nothing but \"unheard-of and incalculable\" others or differences \"at a distance from the main forum of feminist activity,\" to use once more Derrida's observation. For example, in some of these structures one encounters a play with matter and femininity, with what are presumably female genitalia, pubic hair or Woman's sexual organs. The word organ here is very significant, for it is l inked to weaving, to puppets, to the pubic hair as strings and to Woman as an identifiable Other that becomes a manipulable organ-object in the hands of \"feminist\" (ph)allocentrism. A number of such terms used here combine an allegedly specific female corporeality with myths or mythical figures. Thus, the pubic hair is also an allusion to weaving as ecriture feminine, as well as to Ariadne's thread, 60 \"the suspended veil , the cloth\" (Smith and Ferstman, 1996, 201) that suspends, masks and disappears Woman and her proper writing so that they never return to themselves. Daedalus also has some relationship to female genitalia, as Boisacq (cited at the begining of this section), notes. A similar relationship is maintained with my invention of the a^te, which \u2014 apart from being a reference to trauma, torture and violence \u2014 conserves the mythical value of the symbol of Daedalus, the god of craftmanship, writing, sculpting or glyphics. Daedalus is the god of the a?te, writing, crafting, inscribing, sculpting, cutting, scarring, etc. W i t h the a?fce I bring together male and female elements: for labrys, which is the Greek name for axe and a feminine symbol, is in this case related to labyrinth. I shall later recall Irigaray's connection of the labyrinth with female genitalia. For the time being, let us say that labrys is also the \"double-bladed ax wielded as a scepter by the Amazonian Goddess under her various names of Gaea, Thea, Demeter or Artemis . It was a ceremonial weapon, though perhaps originally used as a battle-ax by Scythian female warriors\" (Walker, 1983, 523). This is not to imply that things are the way they appear to be, or that Daedalus, for instance, is \"writing the feminine\" and so on. Above al l , I am not attempting here to reaf-firm the same essentialism and (ph)allocentrism that I critique, by believing in a specific female corporeality or by reconstructing the essence of \"female Other\" based on symbol-isms, myths, anatomical traits, and biological determinations. On the contrary, I want to cut across this essentialist field, and inhabit the repressive regime from within, as the only effective way to intervene and produce something entirely other otherwise than a (ph)allocentric female Other. As explained in the introduction, all inventions can be ef-fective only by inhabiting the same, by passing through the violent system of exemplarity \u2014 here of female exemplarity \u2014 and scarring with an a?be, by stigmatizing (see also \"Conclusion: Wri t ing Stigmata\" at the end of the present study). Because they become the disorder of the same, these inventions can no longer be encompassed by the feminine, the metaphysical, the ontological, the biological, the anatomical, the anthropological and so on. The same could be argued regarding structures that do not relate explicit ly to the feminine but recall the poli t ical , such as the trasladado, the disappeared, capucha, etc. Appearances here are not to be trusted, including any as such, any conceptual identity, 61 including that of Woman and her sex, the Other, the feminine or the poli t ical , and so on. Paleonymy or hetaeronymy are the \"methodological\" strategies that I use here. Paleonymy is Derrida's term to designate a tactics whereby an old name is conserved while referring to something else (or new), usually a structure of difference: \"Tradition's names are main-tained, but they are struck with the differences between the major and the minor, the archaic and the classic. This is the only way, within discourse, to mark that which sepa-rates discourse from its excess\" (Derrida, 1978c, 272). Paleonymy is inseparable from the strategy of invention. I replace paleonymics with hetasronymics only to orient this tactics towards the other or hetceros that takes issue with (ph)allocentrism or a metaphysics of Alter i ty. A l l essentialist Others hetaerographically become other than themselves. They become swept, transported or trasladados into an-other context and signify something dif-ferent than themselves. As I come across terms that interest me in Diana Bellessi's poetry, I wi l l also make very clear the two different levels according to which these terms are employed in this chapter. The first level usually concerns the traditional or colloquial signification and the Bellessian usages of these concepts, and the second level concerns my rereading of them, my inventing them as impossibilities or as structures of inappropriate\/d otherness. Footnotes of Dance: To Begin the Dance of Puppets and Strings You will soon see how the cellar branches out... Not only have I imagined these games, I have also meditated on the house. All the parts of the house are repeated many times, any place is another place. Jorge Luis Borges6 Covarrubias writes on the word titere [Spanish for puppet]: \"Certain marionettes which foreigners usually employ in some puppet displays. By showing only the puppet's body they [the puppeteers] manipulate them as if the marionettes were moving by themselves . . . Another type of Uteres . . . is the ones that have wheels like those of a clock [and] by pulling their strings, the puppets make certain movements on stage, so that they seem animated persons . . . \" 62 For Corominas the origin of the word titere is uncertain. The word retablo [puppet play or display] comes to designate the altars, when imagery was introduced as a decorative element in churches. Carlos Luis Alardo7 The \"Context\" of Diana Bellessi's Eroica Bellessi's poetry, collected in a volume entitled Eroica (1988) belongs to a so-called \"emerg-ing\" poetic generation dealing with sexuality, sexual difference, gender issues and so on, which \"breached the male-dominated poetic canon in Lat in America , notorious for its ob-jectification of Woman, for its disdain of woman poets unti l very recently, as well as for its repression of homosexuality and even more of lesbianism\" (Fio l -Mat ta , 1995, 204). This poetry has been (rather too quickly) characterized by its critics as a product of an unsat-isfied bourgeoisie, since it is no longer interested in economical, class, or racial issues or issues of Lat in America's tyrannical regimes, as was traditionally the case for the works of the \"great masters of the poetic word\" such as Pablo Neruda or Cesar Vallejo. In my view, the distinction between these two generations in terms of exclusion of themes is very problematic and tenuous. It is problematic in itself because it is often observed by critics in order to serve subsequently as an accusation: the new generation has abandoned and betrayed the great Marxist ideals of its masters, through which they inspired and led the Lat in American people in their liberation. What matters now in this \"new\" poetry is no longer the emancipation of the oppressed pueblo but the liberation of Woman from an oppressive patriarchy, from the fetters of Lat in America's phallus or machismo. As wi l l soon become clear, it appears to me that this distinction is condescending, at least as far as this \"new\" poetry is concerned, and can only be useful in underlining that both poetics through opposite paths have one way or another displaced or expelled a figure. They have operated through the same hierarchy which they strive to remedy and which divides themes and interests into primary and urgent and secondary or t r iv ia l . They both have privileged an Other and a Difference \u2014 in the case of Marxist poetics, usually exemplified as class and polit ical difference, and in the case of Bellessi's poetry exemplified on the basis of gender, sexuality and sexual difference. Nothing is more telling of Bellessi's proposition of feminine exemplarity \u2014 supposedly remedying the patriarchical exclusion of 63 the feminine by the masters of Marxis t poetics \u2014 than the title of her book, Eroica, which in English translates into Eroics. E r o i c s is a \"feminine,\" \"maternal\" response of love and erotics to the \"masculine\" he ro ics of Marxis t poetry, displacing its masters and Bellessi's \"forefathers,\" who in their turn had created their own displacements of the \"feminine,\" excluding issues of sexuality and in particular female homoeroticism. Eroics replace heroics. Woman substitutes for man. Gender is placed above class. Sex-ual issues t r iumph over polit ical issues. The sexually marked body and matter (the body of the female Other), and by extension a feminist materialism, substitute for a Marxis t materialism. In this eroic enterprise of the vindication of Woman, the body demands its own ontological status, its being and meaning, \"to being meaning, to being there\" (Nancy, 1994a, 10), to being-Woman-body. The undoing of the exclusion of Woman involves her rehabilitation as body. This is a materialist variation of onto-theology whereby Alter i ty or the Other is reduced to the being of the body and the body of being. Usually, the \"femi-nist,\" (ph)allocentric restitution of bodies that matter is accompanied by the reparation of the Other's tongue, the reclamation of her previously shattered or mutilated voice. Where it was man's repressive voice heard above all (phallo-logo-centrism), now it is woman's writing in the form of a craft (weaving): the material letter and body that matter uniquely and as exemplary repress al l . To summarize, one can say that one exemplarity replaces another, but the truth is that both cases (Bellessi's and her \"forefathers'\") share the same metaphysical dream of masters and servants. Bellessi's eroics presents us with a reverse and specular hierarchy that st i l l believes in mastery \u2014 in the mastering of Otherness, in one Other being the master \u2014 and perpetuates a system of hierarchical repression. The master now is Woman rather than man, and the feminine (ph)allos rather than the phallus: \"The specular reversal of masculine 'subjectivity,' even in its most self-critical form \u2014 that is, where it is nervously jealous both of itself and of its 'proper' objects \u2014 probably represents one necessary phase. Yet it s t i l l belongs to the same program . . . \" (Derrida, 1995d, 92). Bo th eroics and heroics in their own way displace and exclude and enact violence against that which does not fit in , or belong to their exemplary space, or place of domesticity. Bellessi's unique and all-encompassing example of redeemable Otherness is Woman (and Mother) . In Marxist 64 poetics (a combination which I find problematic) the example is el pueblo oprimido, the oppressed people. But both expel and cause something or someone else to vanish. They both disappear and deface an other less urgent than Woman, for instance, from their narcissistic, allo-centric paradigms of Otherness. They both efface, in the singular name of an-Other, another other, or others we do not yet know, an other that does not yet have a name, a face, a class, that does not even have a proper voice or means of expression. This other is totally, utterly disappeared. I want to read this disappearance as an alterity more originary than the exemplary Other-Woman. I want to see this vanishing as an alterity affecting the exemplarity of Woman or as making possible the as such of Woman. W i t h this vanishing I do not want simply to reverse a hierarchy of displacement, but to exceed and disappear the hierarchical system itself. Certain concepts, which I have introduced at the beginning of this chapter, arise from Eroica, presuppose one another and assist me in this direction. I shall read those poems in which I am interested in a different order from the one in which they appear in the book. I do so because some of the ideas presented in relation to the first poem explored here serve to organize my interpretation of the second and third poems. Reading, then, the poems in this order is a matter of organizing my own thinking and concepts, facilitating my analysis of the themes and tropes of this poetry. The first poem discussed is located on pages 81-84, the second one on pages 56-58. There is also a third poem on page 23 of the book which is examined briefly. (The \"Appendix\" of this study provides both the Spanish original and my English translation of the poems). 65 The Hyperfeminist Dance of the Puppet as Indeterminacy or as the Im-possible Woman In the first poem Bellessi writes about a poem as a puppet theatre in which each scene is \"other,\" or generates another different scene: \"cada escena \/ genera otra \/ . . . \/ sobre un retablo \/ interminable\" (\"each scene \/ generates an other \/ . . . \/ on an endless retablev 82; a \"retable\" is an altarpiece, puppet play, or display \u2014 I wi l l return to this word). This constant production of different\/deferred otherness \u2014 reminiscent of the Derridean trace which never points back to itself but always to an-other trace \u2014 is also expressed in the poem as \"rotacion del signo\" (82) or \"spinning of the sign(s).\" These signs create the poetic composition referred to as \"Joyerfa minuscula \/ de la hierba\" or \"miniscule jewelery \/ of cotton grass\" (83). These lines allude to tapestry and weaving. Another scene in the poem is about the dance of a dancer disguised behind a mask, whose identity is never disclosed by the poem: \"como alza un bailarin \/ con infinita gracia \/ su rostro \/ tras una mascara\" (\"like a dancer [who] lifts \/ with infinite grace \/ [his] face \/ behind a mask\" [81]). This refusal to identify specifics, to have a sign or a scene point at an-other, is precisely a dance; one that makes sexual signs and identities disguised or unrecognizable: \"a dance [that] changes place and above all changes places. In its wake they [proper places] can no longer be recognized\" (Derrida, 1995d, 94). \"Bai lar in\" or \"dancer\" is masculine here, but there are a number of metaphors that are superimposed one upon the other, one indicating an other exactly as i f they were spinning signs or scenes on an endless tapestry, altarpiece or puppet play. \"Bai la rm\" refers mainly to the paper on which the poet alluded to writes \"her\" poetic composition. In the same poem Bellessi writes that \" E l papel \/ habla\" or \"The paper \/ speaks\" (84). The paper's voice is perhaps an allusion to the poetic text inscribed on the page. In Spanish \"papel,\" for paper, is grammatically masculine, but the same word also means \"(theatrical) role.\" The Spanish expression \"desempenar un papel\" is rendered in English as \"to play or to perform a (theatrical) role.\" \"Papel\" is used to signify a character in a play, or the role or function of someone or something in general. Regardless of the fact that \"papel\" and \"bailarin\" both refer here to \"paper\" and are both grammatically masculine in Spanish, in Bellessi's poem the word \"paper\" is taken literally as a writing page, but also becomes 66 a \"retablo,\" the stage of a puppet play, the page-textile and page-stage of spinning or dancing textual signs and scenes. The paper is, furthermore, like the endlessly unfolding signs-scenes it contains; it is spinning \"role(s),\" a dancing persona itself, a dancer. Thus, this word (and the word \"bailarm,\" which connotes \"papel\") must be understood here beyond its masculine gender. In fact, paper signifies the very disorder of gender identity (whether masculine or feminine). \"Papel\" is a persona, the dance of identity, and identity is \"papel\"-persona. One is reminded of Judi th Butler 's ideas on the performativity of sexual identities. It can be said that in Bellessi's poem, paper is the dance of personae, like the dance of the ghcest (the other) or of ghosts. (Person as related to persona is both face and mask and this is an ambivalence I wi l l retain in the term \"rostro\" taken from Bellessi's poem.) In this dance (as in spinning signs or scenes) a sexual identity has the face (that is, wears the mask) of another identity, points to an other, is always other, perpetually deferred. This identity (which is never able to close upon itself) is disappeared; it is a persona-ghcest. The paper as a dancer that wears a mask describes the dance of the puppet, an object symbolizing oscillation and pendular indeterminacy, ironically playing with and exceeding sexual signs or any signs of identity dialectically opposed to each other: \"The puppet's ground is not . . . [a stable] ground\" (de M a n , 1984, 287-8). This is the dance of deferral, displacement and disappearance of any essence or identity, whether called Woman or M a n , whether in (ph)allocentric, mujerista eroics or phallologocentric, machista heroics. M a n or Woman are faces, that is, masks, that is, personae. When the puppet dances it oscillates. It is an (n)either ... (n)or, never settling into One (person) or the Other. The puppet's dance, indeed, is a dance of excess, cutting across more than One exemplary sexual sign that \"can dominate with a single voice, a single tone, the space of . . . the 'proffered discourse' [which] is then signed by a sexually marked patronymic\" (Derrida, 1995d, 107), or in Bellessi's matronymic. Beyond masculine or feminine mastery, the puppet's pendular dance signals a \"choreograph [y] [of] poly sexual signatures . . . [beyond] the neuter, the apparently least suspect sexual neutrality of 'phallocentric or gynocentric' mastery\" (Derrida is not speaking here of puppets but of a polysexual choreography; 1995d, 107). In the puppet's oscillating dance, Woman has not yet occupied her own place: \"[A]ll the 67 signs of sexual opposition . . . [might change]. M a n and woman [might] change places. They [might] exchange masks ad infinitum''' (Derrida, 1979, 111). Woman has not yet become the occupant of a proper place, of her own sex, anatomy, body, etc., which a certain \"feminism\" can in its turn occupy and domesticate. The puppet's dance therefore is a hyperfeminist dance insinuating the not-yet of Woman (and Man) , the im-possible, the disappeared \"woman\" dancing with her face, which is a mask, a persona for an-other. I shall be returning to this dance to discuss a number of other implications. For the moment, suffice it to say that the lines cited from Bellessi's poem give us the opportunity to connect two things: dance and puppetry. These are two terms that \u2014 as I have already started to imply, at least in the case of dance \u2014 describe something beyond two different modes of artistic expression, beyond dance and puppetry as they are generally understood. Simply put, both dance and puppetry describe a certain disappearance of the sexual determination \"Woman\" (or Man) and account for a certain undecidability. In a hetaerographic context, one can say that they are ghcests, effects of displacement and indetermination: they are other than, and exceed the female Other (and all identity categories, including that of M a n , human, etc.). There are a number of influential essays written on puppets, mostly as a mode of artis-tic expression. Although these essays do not read marionettes in terms of the ghcest, they nonetheless supply a theoretical context from which I can pivot to the phantasmatic structure of alterity I call the ghcest, and which I understand as disappearance or as the impossibility of Bellessi's essentialist female Other. Although Majorie Garber's \"Out of Joint\" does not take issue with an allo-onto-theo-logical female Otherness, especially in the hetaerographic terms I am proposing to descontruct it with, her essay nonetheless deals with puppets, in a reading of Freud's \"The Uncanny:\" Freud's essay \"The Uncanny\" took as one of its starting points Hoffmann's fantastic tale about the wooden doll Olympia, and the \"impression made by waxwork figures, ingeniously constructed dolls, and other automata;\" Freud singles out \"dismembered limbs, a severed head, a hand cut off at the wrist, . . . feet that dance by themselves\" . . . as \"peculiarly uncanny . . . especially when, as in the last instance, they prove capable of independent action.\" (Garber, 1997, 41) 68 The reference to uncanny \"feet that dance by themselves,\" denotes a kind of disfigurement, a body in parts. This is the dance of alterity, the dance of the severed l imb and \"the unjointed ' jo int '\" (Garber, 1997, 41), is an uncanny choreography of apparitions and ghosts and \"dancers behind a mask.\" It is the dance of alterity in the sense of a refusal to identify, of deforming identity, deforming a specifically sexual corporeality, de-facing a human substance, in the sense of d i s j o i n t i n g the subject: the \" 'subject is in the most radical sense 'out of joint ' : it constitutively lacks its own place\" (Zizek cited by Garber, 1997, 39). The body is disfigured into disjointed parts like a puppet, like \"feet that dance by themselves.\" The body can no longer be organ-ized and form a whole by which one could attach to it a sexual identity, a properly female substance, for example. W i t h a polit ical twist appended to the sexual, I shall return to this disfigurement and lack of organ-ization, connecting them with the dance of torture. The extremeness of my attempt to recall the tortured \u2014 an unrecognizable phantasm or ghcest, reduced to absolute figurelessness and thus to an impossible identity beyond recognition \u2014 is not intended to raise pathetically pitiful and demagogic empathies for victims of polit ical violence. Rather, this extremeness is designed to haunt Bellessi's female Other in al l the potential violence of its own exemplarity and the disfigurement such an exemplarity impl ic i t ly exercises upon its forgotten others. Neither is this extremeness intended to substitute the polit ical example for the female example, to return, that is, to Bellessi's \"forefathers\" and their ideals. A replacement or reversal of examples is the first phase and the most superficial level of my deconstructive reading of Bellessi's poetry. In the second phase, I shall c laim that the disfigured, the disappeared other or ghcest exceeds both Woman and the poli t ical prisoner, the missing and the tortured victims of Argentina's poli t ical reality. This unthought-of other and figureless excess, \"woman\" as the tout autre is a differential structure responsible for both the allocentric category \"Woman\" and the category \"missing.\" But one could also say that the figureless v ic t im is by definition so deformed and so absolutely erased, defaced and damaged by the violence of a unique master or tyrant that not even the essence or the category \"figureless\" v i c t im remains or makes any sense. It is meaningless to say that something or someone is figureless because, by definition, that which is figureless is not 69 there, is nothing. Al ter i ty is not Woman exclusively, exemplarily. The other is precisely an uncanny and broken figurine \u2014 like those of Freud \u2014 that one cannot figure out as any particular category of Other. Alter i ty is the defaced or it is the dancer's \"face behind a mask,\" as in Bellessi's poem. Alter i ty is a ghcest-puppet. I am not taking the word \"puppet\" in its literal sense, or as a mode of artistic expression, but in the hetaerographic context as figurelessness, the refusal to identify an exemplary Other \u2014 in this case, Woman. Neither, however, am I entirely abandoning the feminine but making it more open and hospitable to something other than itself. As I have said in this chapter's \" 'Methodological ' Notes,\" my differential structures play on two interconnected levels, which in the \"Introduction\" to the present study were explained as the double bind or bifocal writing. On the one hand, these structures are related in a min imal sense with a feminine corporeality and are therefore a figure of the feminine. On the other hand, they exceed this feminine specificity, or make it disappear, and are therefore this specificity's impossibility or figurelessness. On this second level, they step around the feminine because they denote effects of difference. This practice informs what I have called excessive feminism or a feminism of the with-out (which is simultaneously associated with, and moves beyond, the feminine). To return to the puppet, employed to designate such an effect of difference or figurelessness, I retain a trace, only a trace, of the feminine in this puppet, as etymologically both the words marionette and puppet relate to Woman, pubis, pupa, doll and gir l , poverty, etc: \"the puppet may be seen . . . as diminutive and t r iv ia l , a mere doll or plaything\" (Shershow, 1995, 23). One must not forget, however: 1) the wooden materiality of the puppet; 2) its manipulation through strings and 3) its cultural value as a metaphor of a hierarchy of masters and servants: \"the servant (who is literally mastered by 'authority') is, by the momentum of this associative structure, construed as figurally inanimate (passive matter available for authoritative form)\" (Shershow, 1995, 77). This cultural value invested in the puppet was already there for Plato, who \"compares man to a marionette, manipulated by the hand of the gods according to their passions. Aristotle imagines the God of the Universe to be just like a puppeteer who moves men as though they were puppets\" (Simmer, 1975, 35). 70 How can these three significations of the puppet serve my critique of Bellessi's grounding allocentric category, that is, the figure of Woman? I wi l l start from the third signification, moving my way back to the first. Bellessi's poetry, whether inadvertently or not, creates a violent hierarchy in the name of its feminine eroics. Woman (and particularly the mother, as we shall see) comes above all else. In this and in most of Eroica's poems, \"Woman\" appears as a unique and most urgent Other: where is the lesbian, the child, the man, the poor, the non-human, the polit ical prisoner, etc.? They are eclipsed and totally disappeared, effaced under the singular name-face of Woman. The exemplary female Other has expelled them and driven them out of \"her\" paradigmatic space, and therefore they become the figureless other, the ghcest or the ghosts of Bellessi's discourse. Bellessi's Woman is the master of alterity: \"she\" encompasses and represses all others. Similarly, Sexual Difference is what masters al l other difference in general. Bellessi's female Other dreams of elevating \"herself\" from the position of the servant (the marginalized, the excluded) to that of the master, from the position of the puppet to that of the puppeteer. This dream resembles that of a tyrant erected above all else, in whose sovereign hands others become puppets, disappear or die, are scarred, defaced and tortured, become instruments of \"util i ty . . . and . . . docility . . . of submission\" (Foucault, 1995, 25) and ultimately face death. Bellessi's supposed feminism risks becoming any -ism's dream of dominance in the name or in favour of a singular essentialist category of \"Other.\" The exclusive feminine is made to behave like a M a n , a \"dictator,\" a \"despot,\" that is, it behaves exactly like the masculinism that had effected the repudiation and displacement of Woman in the first place. One could object that Bellessi is employing a feminist strategy that attempts to undo Woman's marginalization by making her self-consciously imitate M a n . I do not deny the feminist goals of such a strategy to destabilize the displacement of the feminine, but find its polit ical effectiveness, its implications and consequences, prob-lematic. Judi th Butler cautions us that our feminist \"strategies always have meanings that exceed the purposes for which they are intended. In this case, exclusion itself might qual-ify as such an unintended yet consequential meaning\" (Butler, 1990, 5). Thus, Bellessi's strategy ends up marginalizing Woman once more, for it re-affirms all the phallocentric structures that many feminists have critiqued as recognizing the primacy of M a n and the 71 reduction of Woman to a phallic aberration. Indeed, Bellessi re-asserts what Elizabeth Grosz describes as phallocentrism: \"the use of one model of subjectivity, the male, by which all others are positively or negatively defined. Others are constructed as variations of this singular type of subject. They are thus reduced to or defined only by terms chosen by and appropriate for masculinity\" (Grosz, 1989, 105). Irigaray has argued (and I agree with her) that the feminine is constructed as lack, a subservient Other defined in terms of M a n and perpetuating a \/lomme-sexual culture: \"[t]he 'feminine' is . . . described in terms of deficiency . . . as the other side of the sex that alone holds a monopoly on value: the male sex\" (Irigaray, 1985b, 69). Rather than being radically heterogeneous to both M a n and phallocentrism, Bellessi's Woman becomes the Other side of the male sex \u2014 or in Spi-vak's words \u2014 \"an Other that would consolidate\" (Spivak, 1994a, 88) the selfsameness of M a n or the primacy of \"his\" sex and subject status. Bellessi's female \"subject\" (or Other) seems able to assert herself only by imitat ing a masculine subject\/model or emphasizing a \"femininity\" defined in relation to that model. To return to the wooden materiality of the puppet, the fact that a marionette is ma-nipulated through strings is significant. A puppet, as a manipulated object, symbolizes instrumentality. Judi th Butler, tracing the etymology of the Greek word \"hyle\" for matter, writes that hyle \"is wood that already has been cut from trees, instrumentalized and in-strumentalizable, artifactual, on the way to being put to use\" (Butler, 1993, 32). It must be noted that the concept of the \"female Other\" (or \"Woman\") becomes itself instrumental-ized, and the feminine becomes a manipulable puppet in the hands of Bellessi's \"feminism\" or any (ph)allocentric discourse (and as we saw in the hands of M a n and phallocentrism) that seeks to recover and domesticate i t . In this sense, the category of Woman becomes once more a matter of surplus conceptual value, by which Bellessi's \"feminism\" (and by extension, phallocentrism) narcissistically perpetuates and recognizes itself in its mirroring object, subject or figure(ine): the Woman, a body or matter that matters, returns such an essentialist \"feminism\" (and Man) to its selfsame. But , as Butler argues: \" ' ident i ty ' as a point of departure can never hold as the solidifying ground of a feminist poli t ical movement\" (Butler, 1992, 15). The dream of such a \"feminism\" is to instrumentalize the other, represented by the exem-72 plary face of Woman, assuming that one is capable of pulling the strings of alterity which, in my view, can never be attached to anything or anyone at a l l , and cannot therefore be-come the submissive instrument appropriated by any discourse. Contrary to this so-called feminist gesture or (ph)allocentric dream, only identity can be pinned down, attached to someone or something. A n d this is why \"identity,\" and the category of \"Woman\" \"cannot be the solidifying ground of a feminist poli t ical movement.\" Identity politics ensures the downfall of such a movement. Only identity (the identity Woman, for example) can have strings attached that can be manipulated and domesticated. The other is not manipulable because it is absolutely heterogeneous and figureless. If feminism is to safeguard woman, it must resist subjecting and attaching her otherness to any (obvious or well-disguised) iden-tity politics. It must avoid converting woman into the Other side of M a n , \"an Other that would consolidate\" Man's selfsame. Hyperfeminism must always keep \"woman\" unidenti-fiable, figureless and other: it must keep her deferred, capable of evading all projects of homogeneity, and even be the disordering and disappearance of the homogeneous\/Ziomme-geneous. Dcedalus It is this figurelessness that appears to haunt this poem by Bellessi (poem, pp. 81-84), its exemplary Woman and its allegedly feminine eroics. This harrowing and ghastly figureless-ness can be seen at work in this poem that writes about a poem (a \"poetic composition\"), as if it were writ ing about and doubling itself, in a phantasmatic act of replica-tion. The poem speaks about itself, or rather echoes itself, through the figure of another poem to which it alludes. The poem speaks about itself, through a persona (the function of \"papel\" or theatrical role), a dummy, an \"impersonation.\" Like \"a dancer [who] lifts . . . \/ [his] face \/ behind a mask\" (81), Bellessi's poem is its own mask, its own replica-tion into a poetic \"[cjomposicion . . . [que] salta \/ . . . \/ rostro muerto\" (\"[composition . . . [that] leaps \/ . . . \/ dead face\" [83]). Whether the poem is like a l imb, a dead face, a phantasm, a mask or its own echo, the poem's identity becomes refracted into its dead and substanceless figure (just as puppets are associated with the lifeless), into something else that leaps like uncanny feet that dance by themselves. 73 The labyrinthine effects of refraction, replica-tion and figuration run through this poem as its double, its shadow, or its figure. Through the metaphor of the \"dead-alive\" and leaping poetic composition the poem recalls Daedalus, the god of graphics 8 and glyphics whose name is also a synonym for labyrinth. The dexterous Daedalus was renowned for his shrewedness, craft and cunning in building Knossos's labyrinth, whose key is held by Ariadne. Daedalus is also a \"cave . . . cavern or crypt . . . the knot in binding and loosing . . . entrails and the bowels of earth\" (Cooper, 1978, 93). Furthermore, it seems that Daedalus is the god of figurines and puppets, called in Greek XOANA. Elaine Scary reminds us that Daedalus was associated with limbs as well . . . [He] made arms and legs and attached them to xoana, \"the shapeless primitive statues of the gods\" . . . [A]s Socrates reminds us, [he] ma[d]e statues famed for looking so alive they seemed to observers to move. He supplemented human arms with powerful wings in order to enable the escape from the labyrinth; and the other tools he invented, such as axe and saw are also prosthetic transformations of human limbs. (Scarry, 1994, 94) What is fascinating about this mythical creature is that in Western representations Dae-dalus comes to represent an array of crafts: puppetry, sculpture, weaving (knotting) and writing, and the materials of wood and thread (HYLE and HILO). He becomes a god of dead-alive statues, of inscribing and sculpting tools, either an a*-^e or a pen, perhaps a spinning shuttle \"de la hierba\" (\"of cotton grass,\" Bellessi, 83) that inadvertently writes and scars and weaves and refracts and replica-tes Bellessi's poem and bifurcates it, like Borges's labyrinthine house of Asterion, into infinite galleries, illusions and mirages, endless scenes, personae and shadows that generate others, never allowing the poem to return to, and recover, itself. Daedalus makes this poem figureless. Bellessi's text speaks about itself; it is a poem about a poem and a poet, a Woman poet of eroics. Bellessi, the poet, writes of a poet-subject as a double actor, a puppet, a \"subject out of joint,\" to recall Zizek, which describes and is in turn inscribed, sculpted and scarred as if with an a ? t e . In the following lines, note how the sentence \"dentro de m i \" (\"inside me\") makes the poem and the poet (\"el poema\" and \"la poeta\") be seen from the inside exactly as if they were both cavernous Daedaloi or crypts; as if both poem and poet were graves or en-graved in their sollipsistic auto-contemplation; selves reflecting upon themselves and therefore entombed alive in themselves: \"Protagonista doble \/ describo \/ 74 para que escriba \/ dentro de m i \" (\"Twice a protagonist \/ I describe \/ so that \"he\" [\"it\"] writes \/ inside me\" [83]). The self is its own tomb, a cave or a sculptured grave inside which the self disappears like un desaparecido, like a missing person. Hy(i)lographics or hy(i)loglyphics is this self-disappearance, the burial of oneself in oneself. Bellessi's poetic composition writes about itself and doubles itself in the face of its own replica, namely, the poetic composition to which the poem I have been commenting on alludes: \"Composicion \/ . . . \/ ella salta \/ Joy erf a \/ mimiscula \/ de la hierba\" (\"Compo-sition \/ . . . \/ it \"[\"she\"] leaps \/ miniscule \/ jewelery \/ of cotton grass\" [82]). The text (as well as the poetic subject) constitutes itself by being labyrinthically ramified into its own replica, into its impersonation. The text is stone-dead, a figure, a statue \"a ghostly, harrowing thing\" (Gross, 1992, 19). The word impersonation is not chosen accidentally. Bellessi's poem flirts with puppet histrionics, with personas, faces, masks, \"rostros,\" fig-ures, dummies, statues and the ghcest in general, to the point that it becomes one itself. This is true to such an extent that the status of Bellessi's text is indeed like the status of a statue \u2014 to paraphrase de Man's question: \"Is the status of a text like the status of a statue?\" (de M a n , 1984, 95). Eroic poem and poet are the figureheads of something or someone else, for one can be exclusively and exemplarily oneself only as other, as a puppet or as a dummy. Whether it is Woman or her feminine poetics-eroics, that which poses itself ontologically as such and positions itself above all others can only stand \u2014 for the Greeks being is that which stands upright, erect (Derrida, 1978d, 184) \u2014 as a double, a ghost or a statue. As explained in the \"Introduction\" to this discussion, the exemplum is the ghcestly double retained in the uncanny replication of hetaerography's and Daedalus's diphthong 38. Bellessi's poem is populated by masks: \"Tienta \/ . . . como alza un bailarin \/ con infinita gracia \/ su rostro \/ tras una mascara\" (\"It tempts and touches \/ . . . like a dancer [who] lifts with infinite grace \/ [his] face \/ behind a mask\" [81]). The poem is haunted by shadows and dreams: \"Tienta \/ la textura en sombra \/ donde el sueno nace\" (\"It tempts and touches \/ the shadowy texture \/ where the dream is born\" [81]).9 It is a text within a text, a textile or a puppet play of interminable scenes always recalling another. It is a text that itself points to another text: \"Cada escena \/ genera otra \/ ^Aisladas \/ sobre 75 un retablo \/ interminable?\" (\"Each scene \/ generates another \/ Isolated on an endless \/ retableV [82]). There is no one-word English equivalent for the Spanish \"retablo,\" which, as I have mentioned before, means altarpiece, reredos, but also puppet play and display. I retain this polyvalent semantics by rendering the Spanish \"retablo\" as retable in quotation marks, alluding to al l the significations of that specific word simultaneously. This poem, as well as the next one I shall discuss, is also a retable. It is an altar to the missing, to those others that Woman as an exemplary Other implic i t ly disappears from her paradigmatic space. The poem is a grave monument replete with ornaments, metaphoric animals, a bird-like or beaked fish, a frog: \"Pico \/ Bagre \/ de panza plateada,\" and \" E l l a salta \/ . . . \/ \u00a3,rana?\" (\"Beak \/ a silver belly \/ catfish,\" and \"It [\"she\"] leaps \/ . . . \/ a frog?\", 82 and 83, respectively). The poetic composition \u2014 both the one to which the poem refers and the poem one reads \u2014 is presented as, or scattered with, toys, copies, paintings: \"miniatura \/ . . . en mi mano\" (\"miniature \/ . . . in my hand\" [83]). W i t h i n a mirror-like and deceptive duplicity of marionette histrionics the poet-subject is no longer the puppeteer or the master consciousness whose author-ity controls the strings and masters \"her\" text, \"her\" product, \"her\" so-called feminine poetry or writ ing. The Woman-poet-subject can no longer say, as the puppet-master Leatherhead said of his marionettes: \"I am the mouth of 'em a l l \" (cited by Garber, 1997, 40) \u2014 \"I am the mouth of my text.\" Like the poem, the poet becomes herself double and impersonated, ventriloquized. The poet is herself a dummy, a puppet on a \"retable.\" She is \"feet that dance by themselves:\" \"Protagonista doble \/ describo \/ para que escriba \/ dentro de m i (\"Twice a protagonist \/ I describe \/ So that \"he\" [\"it\"] writes \/ inside me\" [82]). The author writes and is written, inscribed, indeed carved (another of the meanings of Daedalus's name) like a wooden puppet (hyle), like a stone statue. She is the master becoming a puppet, a servant, an instrument, an organ. The transformation of the master-poet-Subject into a figurine, into \"feet that dance by themselves,\" seems to reverse the Western ontotheological hierarchy whereby the puppet serves as \"a discursive site where the metaphysical oppositions of truth and image, presence and representation, intersect with the social and cultural oppositions of high and low . . . master and servant\" (Shershow, 76 1995, 15). It is a self-present Woman, the Other Subject, who in Eroics seems to believe she can undo her previous marginalization by claiming her own proper poetry, feminine writing, a unique and uni-vocal mouth that speaks of and above a l l , that now becomes repeated, replica-ted, and mastered. I have not yet dwelt upon specific indications in this poem of this hierarchy of feminine exemplarism in relation to the claim to a proper means of expression called feminine writ-ing, but I wi l l discuss them soon. There is, however, a clarification pending in relation to the female-poet-Subject whom I read as a mastered marionette \"out of joint.\" One might find it provocative that from its masterful position the female Other descends into a lower position, becoming a puppet, an instrument, an organ. The reader might protest indig-nantly that I subject \"Woman\" to the same representations and marginalization \"she\" has suffered under patriarchy, but one must consider the following. In the first place I want to indicate that the term \"partriarchy\" remains unclear to me, at least as a presumably coherent field of domination over pathetically powerless victims that are usually and ex-clusively women \u2014 why only women? The term \"patriarchy\" seems to be one of those essentialist and universalized categories that, as Chandra Talpade Mohanty suggests: structure the world in ultimately binary, dichotomous terms, where women are always seen in opposition to men, [and] patriarchy is always necessarily male dominance . . . Thus, both men and women are always seen as preconstituted whole populations, and relations of dominance and exploitation are also posited in terms of whole peoples \u2014 wholes coming into exploitative relations. It is only when men and women are seen as different categories or groups possessing different already constituted categories of experience, cognition and interests as groups that such a simplistic dichotomy is possible. (Mohanty, 1994, 212). I wi l l repeat Mohanty's wise words to further claim that patriarchy is a concept that \"structures the world in ultimately binary, dichotomous terms, where women are\" always preconstituted as powerless victims and men as powerful masters. This logic of the term \"patriarchy\" that codes women as the powerless group in a sense repeats the phallocratic myth that women are the weak and impotent sex. It is detrimental for both feminism and feminist activism because it is a vicious circle of logic: if women are defined essentially as the exploited, or the dominated, then it is impossible for them \u2014 according to this definition \u2014 to undo or escape their oppression. This definition has women perpetually under domination or under patriarchy \u2014 so to speak \u2014 and man is always defined as their 77 master. It is true, however, that Bellessi \u2014 moving sti l l wi thin dichotomic terms, within an alleged feminism defined by Isazi as mujerismo \u2014 wants to lift Woman from the position of the powerless to that of the powerful. Woman or the feminine becomes for Bellessi an essentialist category of exemplary mastery. In my reading of the \"she\" as inscribed or carved with Deedalus's a^te, like a puppet, it is not women this reading is attacking, but the essentialism or hegemonic exemplarism that masters \"woman,\" or makes Woman into a dominant figure. M y analysis does not take issue with feminism per se and its goals, but with a feminism oriented towards identity politics that wants to reduce woman into something that is no longer other, but looks more like a matriarch or a patriarch, an Author-i ty or a God-like Subject. Ult imately, as it is formulated by Butler , my reading asks these questions: \"[W]hat poli t ical possibilities are the consequence of a radical critique of the categories of identity? What new shape of politics emerges when identity as a common ground no longer constrains the discourse on feminist politics?\" (Butler, 1990, ix) . The scar of Daedalus \u2014 the fact that the Bellessian Woman is replica-ted or refracted, or becomes less than her masterful self, for instance \u2014 is inflicted upon the master in general. The wound is inflicted upon the master, any master whatsoever, whether one thinks of h im\/her in terms of what mujerista feminism calls the patriarchical phallus, or what I call such a phallus's variation and disguise, a (ph)Allos, a pseudo-Other that masters all else. Equally traumatic and deadly to any form of author-ity and domination, Daedalus inscribes and injures with his pen or a^te any form of exemplarism, prevalence and despotism, any form of author-itative regime. The injury of the a?te constitutes and makes impossible any archy in the sense of the Greek meaning of the word archy as power, ruling, hegemony, sovereignty, state (status), etc. This clarification anticipates my critique of feminine exemplarism in Bellessi's Argentinian letters of eroics in conjunction with polit ical despotism in Argentina. Let us return to the poem that writes upon and about itself, and the poet who acts (\"pro-tagonista\") like a puppet, and describes and is acted\/written upon: the author becomes a plaything, the figure of the poem, a figurine. This is a relation between puppets and strings. Both these words must be thought of here hetaerographically, or as altered, as the 78 structure of hy(i)lography which describes effects of alteration such as disappearance, re-fraction, replication, echoing, figuration. Hy(i)lography is the vanishing, the im-possibility of eroic poem and poet. B y reflecting upon themselves, both the poem and the poet become in two differenct senses subject and subject, master and servant, puppeteer and puppet. The poet-subject discusses \"herself,\" is \"her\" subject, is one of \"her\" themes. Evoking once more Butler 's etymology of hyle (matter), it can be said that the poet's in-strumentalizable matter is \"herself.\" The poet also controls and holds the hilos, or strings, of \"herself.\" Poet and poem represent, and reflect upon, themselves as if speculating upon the possibility of their very presence, the possibility of their own identity, as if the events \"poet\" and \"poem\" were here in question or were at issue. Rather than knowing \"who\" they are or if they are anyone or anything at all (for example, if they are the sexual de-terminations \"feminine,\" \"Woman,\" \"eroic-Other-subject,\" etc.), poet and poem are sti l l figuring their identity out. They become themselves their subject in question; they become themselves the figure, the marionette other. If one were to replace Derrida's \"the book\" with Bellessi's \"poet\" and \"poem,\" the following citation from Derrida's \"Edmond Jabes\" describes eloquently the fact that Bellessi's \"feminine\" becomes simultaneously a subject and a subject(ed), a master and a puppet, in doubt and in need of figuring itself out. This is true with al l forms of self-reflection: The poet is .. . the subject of the book, its substance and its master, its servant and its theme. And the book is indeed the subject of the poet, the speaking and knowing being who in the book writes on the book. This movement through which the book, articulated by the voice of the poet, is folded and bound to itself, the movement through which the book becomes a subject in itself and for itself, is not critical and speculative reflection, but is, first of all, poetry and history. For in its representation of itself the subject is shattered and opened. Writing is itself written, but also ruined, made into an abyss, in its own representation. Thus, within this book, which infinitely reflects itself and which develops as a painful questioning of its own possibility, the form of the book represents itself . . . (Derrida, 1978a, 65). Of Feminine Writing and Other Ruins Hy(i)lographics or hy(i)loglyphics is writ ing in ruins, like a grave, a stone-dead \"city con-structed over buried, more archaic layers of ruins and mutilated fragments.' (Gross in a different context, 1992, 35). In another poem in Eroics, Bellessi writes of a text as an assemblage of amputated statues: \" E l texto \/ el cuerpo . . . \/ . . . \/ . . . elige \/ la sutileza de la piedra \/ . . . Torsos oceanicos \/ colas nalgas de pez y de sirena \/ los pechos \/ . . . 79 \/ particulas\" (\"The text \/ the body . . . \/ . . . \/ . . . chooses \/ the subtlety of the stone \/ . . . Oceanic torsos \/ tails, buttocks of fish and of mermaid \/ breasts \/ particles\" [23]). Wri t ing is petrified and petrifying. It is death itself. The image of writ ing as death, like that of lifeless statues and inanimate puppets, recalls an entire phonologocentric Western tradition privileging the spoken word and grounded in the idea that writing, in contrast to l iving speech, is the dead letter that kil ls . This is a \"cadaverous . . . writ ing [that in Plato] had held up the l iving spoken word\" (Derrida, 1981, 79). The image of the mermaid, in a Freudian context, reinforces another value accorded to stone-dead or petrifying writ ing. This time, writing is the statue of the Gorgon. In popular modern Greek culture, the Gor-gon is not the horrifying Medusa, but a mermaid (Gorgona in Greek). The ancient Greeks, however, gave the Gorgon's face \"to everything that was alien or other, everything chaotic and destructive, especially those violences and harmonies that disrupted what Greek cul-ture tried to define as the domain of the human . . . The face of the Gorgon was also the face of the dead, the face of . . . a ghost . . . a mask, a daemonic dead-alive fragment\" (Gross, 1992, 24). Figurelessness returns to haunt Bellessi's poetry as a violent writing of ruins, amputa-tion, disfigurement, death, ghosts. This violent glyptics is the figureless otherness (just as i n Derrida, \"writing\" stands for difference\/differance), an unrecognizable phantasm that comes as one's own death, as one's own defacement or self-effacement; or as Druci l la Cor-nell might say, connecting Derrida's figureless cinders and ashes with \"woman,\" that it comes as essencelessness and remains: \"[i]f she remains other, she remains . . . The vul-nerable tenderness of the Cinder can be heeded as the trace that points beyond itself\" (Cornell , 1997, 198-9). Unidentified and disappeared, the self is a dancer of death behind a mask, and consequently the other is the effect by which a self is always an unidentified disappeared. The other is the dance of death and of missing. The other is the relation of oneself to oneself as being missing, as being a ghost or a ghcest. In this sense, I understand hy(i)lographics-glyphics as this absolute, not-yet other that can be determined neither ex-emplarily as Bellessi's Woman nor as \"this Woman's\" proper means of expression, whether it is writing or weaving. F\u00a3y(i)lographics is the other as Woman's self-inscription, \"her\" self-disfiguration, or as Woman in ruins. Woman is the remains. She is \"woman\"-remains 80 that point beyond herself. But there is also a trace of the essence Woman that remains like the \"trace of otherness, that always remains beyond\" (Cornell , 1997, 199). What I mean by that phrase is that although hy(i)lography is the very disappearance of Bellessi's Woman, there is st i l l a thread (hilo), or a trace of \"her\" that remains in hy(i)lography. But hy(i)lographics would also be the erasure of Woman's proper writ ing, sex, name, or face. It would be the \"erasure or effacement of a face\" (de M a n , 1984, 100), the deformation and disappearance of any sexual marks that would determine one essential and unique Woman, or M a n , or anything at a l l . Hy(i)lography would be other than the exemplary female Other (other than man, human, etc.), other than the feminine, and other than ecriture feminine. In what follows I shall attempt to answer these questions: W h y is feminine writing at issue here? W h y is hy(i)lography constructed so as to exceed such a feminine writing? How does Bellessi treat, or rather exalt, the exemplary theme of an eroic ecriture feminine in her poetry? Hy(i)lography as Trauma Before I deal with these questions, however, I must open a parenthesis to explain why I have resorted to speaking of hy(i)lography as the category \"Woman\" defaced or \"Woman\" in ruins. The tactics here are twofold: 1) First this approach refuses to perpetuate the essentialism of an identifiable Woman ((ph)allocentrism), an other that one has first tamed and determined as such in order subsequently to master, instrumentalize, subject and appropriate \"her\" as a pitiful and pathetic object-puppet in need of a superior subject, in need of a saviour to undertake the mission of liberating her. As Derrida contends, we need to \"liberate ourselves from that very ' l iberation' \" (Derrida, 1995h, 163). This so-called liberation is ultimately nothing but the mastery and submission of the other. It is a pseudo-emancipation, the subordination of the other (of woman as the other that must always escape us), to all -isms and ( p a t r i -archies which love to identify and know the other in order to manipulate \"her\" like a puppet, batter \"her\", bruise \"her\", scar \"her\" face, disfigure and bash \"her\", treat \"her\" like a malleable object or like shit. A n d this is because, as I wi l l not cease to repeat, only identity (the identifiable Other, or Woman recognizable as such) can be scarred. The 81 other, by constrast, is the scar and disappearance of all identity and mastery. The dynamic of the above (ph)allocentric or mujerista \"liberation\" of woman is the game of masters and servants, one that in its own way tames and injures, takes by violence, or inflicts epistemic violence (by representing and knowing the other as an identity), rapes and possesses, handles with hands holding strings or distributing fists. As Spivak might say, to recognize the other is to assimilate \"her\" (Spivak, 1994a, 89). I shall add that to give a face to the other is to be able to have access to it and appropriate it like the possessive hand of a sovereign (subject or not) that reaches out to instrumentalize and brutalize his or her victims. A n d that is all done in the name of the other's \"liberation,\" a well-known myth that so many fathers, dictators, mothers or tyrants \u2014 whether in the context of Lat in America's fascist regimes or in the context of pseudo-feminist and any -ist agendas \u2014 have put to work: \"liberation\" equals violence, death, torture, imperialism, disappearance and annihilation. I am not critiquing here a movement called \"women's liberation\" or anti-sexist, anti-racist or anti-fascist movements. Rather, I am critical of the discourse on liberation and the superior subject(s) behind it claiming to emancipate powerless women and victims. In \"Can the Subaltern Speak?\" Spivak is also crit ical of this discourse, insofar as as it is linked to the restoration of (the subaltern) woman's identity, \"consciousness \u2014 or, more acceptably, subject,\" and voice (Spivak, 1994a, 90). She argues that \"the assumption and construction of a consciousness or subject . . . w i l l , in the long run, cohere with the work of imperialist subject-constitution, mingling epistemic violence with the advancement of learning and civil ization. A n d the subaltern woman wi l l be as mute as ever.\" (Spivak, 1994a, 90) . 1 0 Returning to Bellesi's mujerista, \"liberation\" and the case of Argentina, Feitlowitz writes that one of Argentina's \"liberators,\" Peron, for example, \"was at once a populist and tyrant: a champion of the descamisados ('the shirtless ones') and organized labor, an admirer of Hitler and Mussolini , a magnet for progressive Jews and the host to thousands of Nazis after the defeat of the Reich\" (Feitlowitz, 1998, 4). Who does not know, for instance, that in Lat in America all mil i tary coups used the discourse on \"liberation\" and have been erected and sanctified as \"pledges to 'fully observe the ethical and moral principles of justice . . . [and to act in] respect of human rights and dignity\"? (This is an 82 actual \"pledge\" of one of Argentina's mil i tary junta,s cited by Feitlowitz, 1998, 21.) Perhaps we must learn how to give up the other, or we must learn how to identify with, and be, the other: \"one must begin to identify with the other, who is to be assimilated, interi-orized, understood ideally . . . something one can never do absolutely without addressing oneself to the other . . . \" (Derrida, 19951, 283). We (any sovereign subject, Bellessi's Woman as such an exemplary subject or Other, I) must become the brutalized. We must become the defaced, those that do not have a body, or a face, the unidentified bodies, the missing, the annihilated, the violated, the descamisados, the erased, the buffeted, the mutilated, the amputated ruins, the disappeared. We must become the \"woman\" that is so abused, battered and deformed, that she can no longer be recognized either as a Woman or as a powerless v ic t im, and can no longer become our subject\/figure to which we have access, manipulate, control and abuse once more. We must learn that our identity, the \"who we are,\" is nothing but a wound and a bruise, is nothing but this \"woten\" that is not one. In my view, there can be no social justice that does not begin with our identifying with the tortured and the defaced, with this wounding, with this otherness which is also the disfigurement and disappearance of all mastery and masters. Social justice originates in one's response to pain. We must become the pain so as to become responsive, responsible, and sensitive to the other's suffering. 2) We are a hemorrhaging trauma, an open lesion bound to never heal, to never close upon itself ever again, to never let us be any particular identity, a superior self, or singular Other, to never let us forget the vanished and the disfigured. For in the name of our unique face we are the disfigured and the defaced, we have always been this laceration, this ghostly facelessness; we have always been an ego that equals a ghcest, \"feet that dance by themselves.\" This cut, this ruination of ourselves, makes us \"who we are.\" This means that first we are not. First we are a missing identity and then we come to assume a \"who.\" We are an after-effect because the other, which I call here the missing woman, hy(i)lography, laceration, disfigurement, disappearance, facelessness, etc., precedes our identity. Our identity is hollow like a mass grave (Daedalus) inside which there is no-body and no-thing: our identity is utterly disappeared. Like the body of the disappeared (other, \"woman\"), our identity is nowhere to be found. 83 But let us put this disappearance under the a? te or under erasure. Let us write that this is a disappearance without being one in a strict sense, in so far as there is never a priori a \"who\" or an exemplary category such as Woman that has already posited \"herself\" as such (has appeared) and subsequently comes to vanish. First , there is nothing there (i.e. no \"who,\" no subject, no Woman or singular Other, and by extension, no feminine difference) and consequently nothing vanishes. The vanishing I am considering here is not a vanishing strictly speaking. It is itself figureless. It is disfigured and subject to its own effects: it is a disappearance that itself disappears, crosses itself out, leaving no mark with which one can identify it as a proper disappearance. It leaves no recognizable trace with which one can convert it into another identifiable essence, namely, the essence of \"disappearance.\" Such a vanishing (facelessness, lesion, etc. which mimes without being all victims of v i -olence, including the battered woman, child, etc.) must not therefore be mistaken for something else: a) It cannot be equated with what are essentially and negatively con-structed as \"objects of violence\" (Marcus, 1992, 394) or as the disappeared and brutalized victims. It cannot be a vict imized essence defined as inherently rapable, torturable, violat-able, batterable, vanishable, erasable. In the case of women, to equate the vanishing I am speaking of with such a violence would simply reiterate \"an identity politics which defines women by our violabil i ty\" (Marcus, 1992, 387) by \"our\" susceptibility, by \"our\" l iabil i ty to be defaced or effaced, by \"our\" perpetual v ic t im status. In the case of Argentina's polit ical \"dissidents\" this equation amounts to repeating in a subtle way the repressive ideology that grounds all mil i tary regimes. This repressive ideology assumes that it can have power over those that it presupposes in advance to be, and treats as, fundamentally oppressable, vulnerable, pathetically defenseless victims, always liable to be submissive and subject to the regime, prone to be disfigured or disappeared into mass graves, b) The vanishing (and its variations) I suggest cannot even be positively thought of in terms of a totalizing concept, a universal figure, or an ontological status that one could attribute to Woman \u2014 for example, making woman into a positive figure that designates this vanishing. (In some feminist discourses, for instance, absence becomes a positive, essentialist value that signifies Woman.) Derrida writes of the trace that \"[a]n unerasable trace is not a trace\" (Derrida, 1978c, 265). It is rather another presence, another identity. The same could 84 be argued in regard to hy(i)lography, which I think of as vanishment, the figureless or the missing otherness. Disappearance \u2014 and by extension, all of the others with which I have associated it \u2014 must itself always be able to disappear. This is a disappearance of disappearance in the sense of articulating an absolute \"inadequacy of any representation of the Other\" (Cornell , 1997, 198). This other is absolutely impossible to represent, con-figure and essentialize, either as the essentialist category of appearance or as the category of disappearance. Beyond Feminine Writing as Weaving Having established these two clarifications, I wi l l now return to the question of feminine writing, and why feminine writing is at issue here. The response to this question wi l l deal implic i t ly with the general, essentialist category of \"feminine writ ing\" and more explic-i t ly with one of its tropes, weaving. It is, as we shall see, in the metaphor of the textile that Bellessi finds a source of so-called \"feminist\" or mujerista inspiration to recuperate her \"eroics\" and its central figure, Woman. The pseudo-feminist, or rather (ph)allocentric trope of the textile summons Bellessi's \"Woman\" back to her place of domesticity by evok-ing and subtly retelling countless myths of domesticated females called Athena, Ariadne, Penelope, Arachne and even Freud's misogynous conception of \"Woman\" with her shame-ful pubic hair, the tapestry of nature. Bellessi's \"Woman\" occupies herself by writing a \"composicion\" (composition), or spinning its signs: \"Rotacion del signo\" (82). The compo-sition is even crafted from Woman's own body, from her tissue \u2014 the pun here is between text, textile, tissue \u2014 and is procreated b y \/ i n her uterine hand: \"miniatura \/ . . . en mi mano\" (\"miniature \/ . . . in my hand\" [83]). I have deliberately said \"procreated\" because here the hand, a feminine and embodied counterpart to the disembodied and phallic logos (or speech), becomes a symbol of the matr ix \/womb by which Bellessi figuratively assists her \"Woman\" and \"Woman's\" proper means of expression (writing-weaving), to recover their essence and come into presence. Some examples of this sort of feminine ontotheology and maternal eroics in connection with fabrics must be given here. To start with embroidery Parker writes: \"Painting [as art] was produced predominantly . . . by men . . . [C]rafts associated with 'the second sex' 85 . . . are accorded lesser artistic value . . . I have decided to call embroidery art because it is, undoubtedly, a cultural practice-involving iconography, style and a social value\" (Parker, 1984, 6). Parker undertakes the mission of according to embroidery and Woman primacy and an exemplary value precisely like that corresponding to man as such. In this logic of mimesis, Woman and her craft st i l l remain secondary and servile to two indestructible presences, man and art, for there is a model (man and art) and its servile copy (Woman and craft). Further, the copy not only imitates the model, but one can say that it aspires to replace it . Let us recall that a model is in Lat in an exemplum. Embroidery and Woman have phallic aspirations: they become exemplary and positive values in (the) place of painting and man. The female (ph)Alios and her needle-pen substitutes for the male phallus or his paintbrush, while one (politically correct or presumed to be feminist) ph-Allocentr ism replaces another. However, the hierarchical opposition, and the exclusions that such an opposition creates, stil l subsist even if one has reversed the terms of the hierarchy. The essentialist and even phallologocentric terms of \"Woman,\" \"man,\" \"art,\" \"craft,\" \"embroidery,\" \"painting\" and so on, are not even once questioned or scrutinized by the critic. Parker not only assumes them as given essences, she perpetuates them by trading one for another, and even gives a so-called \"feminist\" hand to phallologocentrism and its systematic exclusion of the feminine. In the field of fabrics as quilts in conjunction with maternal eroics, I want to evoke Donnell, whom Showalter calls \"the Kristeva of quilt ing\" (Showalter, 1991, 162), perhaps because for Donnell \u2014 just as for Kristeva and a number of other theorists of the maternal \u2014 the mother's body is an exemplary essence that recovers the feminine Other. Donnell argues: \"The eminently hospitable, comforting, and enveloping nature of cloth and quilts \u2014 their purpose and their substance \u2014 make the quilt a solacing object. Quilts recall and embody the first and greatest solacing agent in our lives: our mothers\" (Donnell, 1990, 117). Obviously, it follows that for Donnell \"the purpose and substance\" of the mother, the essence \"mother,\" is to be a source of love, comfort and solace, that is to say, to be a comforter or an object. Donnell's maternal and solacing eroics is reminiscent of Bellessi's advocacy for feminine eroics exemplarily materialized as fabrics and cloth, as Woman's singular \"art\" or \"craft\" of weaving. Donnell continues: \"Used as a cover for the body [and like a mother enveloping her infant], a quilt draws from this proximity and contiguity\" (Donnell, 1990, 112). Consequently and by analogy, one can say that fabrics are one of the most exemplary and essentially defined maternal tropes by which \"feminist\" 86 allology attempts to restitute the essence \"Woman.\" Textiles are (ph)allocentrism's craft-iest trope, one that keeps us close and safely attached to the solace of the metaphysics of presence exemplarily in the presence of the (m) Other and in the place of the Father. Textiles allow the trading of the patriarch for a matriarch and one tyrant and archy wi th another: matriarchy for pratriarchy. In fact, some heterosexual or lesbian women who choose not to be mothers might find this matriarchy not at all solacing, but rather exclusive, and violent. Judi th Butler points out that [i]n the early 1980s, the feminist \"we\" [women] rightly came under attack by women of color who claimed that the \"we\" was invariably white, and that the \"we\" that was meant to solidify the movement was the very source of a painful factionalization. The effort to characterize a feminine specificity through recourse to maternity, whether biological or social, produced a similar factionalization and even a disavowal of feminism altogether. For surely all women are not mothers; some cannot be, some are too young or too old to be, some choose not to be, and for some who are mothers, that is not necessarily the rallying point of their politicization in feminism. (Butler, 1992, 15) Bellessi's matriarchy is one that comforts and welcomes some women and disfigures and displaces other women. This supposedly eroic matriarchy disappears its others (such as women who do no identify themselves with maternity) who become the figureless or the disappeared other excluded from Bellessi's maternal, heterosexual\/sexist eroics. Bellessi's poetic composition is spun by the author's womb-like hand. I am speaking here of the \"author\" alluded to in the poem and not of Bellessi as the author. The composition is identified in the poem as a \"bebe\" (a \"baby\") or as a \"miniatura \/ . . . en mi mano\" (\"miniature \/ . . . in my hand\" [82]). The image here of feminine procreation and poetic generation as analogous is based on the etymology of the words \"author\" and \"poet\" as creators. This image is intended to suggest maternal somatic genesis as a counterpart to phallologocentric creation, where the world, for example, comes into being through the word (voice)\/logos of God . In this phallogocentric and spiritualist tradition \u2014 which Be l -lessi presumably wants to counteract with her maternal and materialist eroics \u2014 creation is an oral-logic-performative result effected by God's pneumon (lung) or pneuma (spirit). The world comes into being through the respiratory organ of God , through the lung which in Greek is connected to spirit and is the male counterpart to the womb. In this spiritu-alist and ontotheological tradition, in-spiration, re-spiration, voice and phono-cosmo-logic 87 creation are all l inked by the phonologocentric concept of a spirit in-spiring, or giving substance to, the world. In a Jewish esoteric tradition, \"man has the shape of a letter\" (Gandelman, 1991, 62). I cannot resist inserting here the following association: that the letters of sacred Hebrew texts, as described by Gandelman, have the shape of figurines or puppets, exactly like Bellessi's signs that are uncanny \"feet that dance by themselves,\" or like her \"poetic composition\" that \"leaps.\" To return to Gandelman, he suggests that \"Hebrew letters are the body of man, but they are also the body of God\" (Gandelman, 1991, 63). Gandelman also tells us the legend of \"how the letters of the Hebrew alphabet presented themselves before God to offer their services in order to 'write the world' . But writ ing the world was tantamount to writing the Torah, since the writing of the holy book was concomitant with creation of the physical world that it apparently described\" (Gandelman, 1991, 62). Here, to in-spire the world is also to \"write\" it. W h y have I brought up these two onto-theological traditions? It is because Bellessi seems to propose their exemplary counterpart, a feminine model as problematic as the phallogo-centric paradigms it substitutes or imitates. Bellessi's (ph)allocentric proposition favours Woman versus man, creative (m)Other-author versus father-poet, materialism versus spir-i tualism, body versus spirit, writ ing versus logos and speech, and graphocentrism (the privileging of writ ing as a type of somatic weaving) 1 1 versus phonocentrism, the tactile versus the oral, hand versus mouth, uterus versus lungs, the organic versus the disembod-ied, Goddess versus God, etc. Indeed, Bellessi's image of the poet's hand giving birth to the poetic composition recalls the myth of the Great V i rg in Mother Mary, who is associated \"with the goddess tradition . . . reflected etymologically in her name, 'Mar i a , ' which comes from the Lat in mare, meaning 'sea. ' 1 2 A l l the Great Mothers are born from the primeval ocean or the watery abyss, the primordial womb of life from which all created forms emerge . . . Mary is sometimes known as the net and her son as the divine fisherman . . . \" (Baring and Cashford, 1991, 557). Bellessi's hand is a womb-loom like the one appearing in a Ger-man icon called The Virgin Mary Spinning. In this painting \"the thread from the spindle passes from Mary ' s hands directly through the brow of the baby lit up in potentia in her womb, and thus the act of spinning regains its original meaning: the mother becomes the 88 spinning goddess . . . the child becomes the fabric of her body\" (Baring and Cashford, 1991, 557). Similarly, Sawday reminds us that Woman's identity in Renaissance culture was frequently centered around her uterus, which was viewed as a cloth or cloak. Woman was \"the locus for the 'matr ix ' from which is drawn the infant, or the printer's font.\" Often the uterus was imaged as a \"garden of conception,\" a \"cavern of moist fertility,\" a \"female hortus anatomicus .. . beneath which in 'the thickest covert of that shade' is a 'pleasant arbour '\" (Sawday, 1996, 215). In accordance with these feminine images of spinning, of conception and of watery caverns, I am not at all surprised when I read in Bellessi's poem that the poetic composition-conception woven by the poet's hand might be a \"baby\" or a \"rana\" (frog). The resemblance of a tadpole to a fetus in the womb makes baby and frog a metonymy for each other, and both account for the newly-born poetic creation. I am not even surprised when Bellessi's poem hinges upon an exemplary mechanics of fluids in opposition to, and in substitution for, a masculine and rigid mechanics of solids. Again , this is an almost orgasmic or life-giving eroics in place of a war-like, deadly heroics. Bellessi's poem imparts Woman and emits waters. It \"emits [what] is flowing, fluctuating\" (Irigaray, 1985b, 112): the mother's mi lk or amniotic fluid, or the printer's font or ink. I shall mention here only two such aquatic images taken from Bellessi's poem: 1) There is an allusion to female genitalia as corals, an underwater female hortus anatomicus: \"Dejados por la marea \/ se mecen en los bajfos \/ arrecifes de camelias\" (\"Abandoned by tides \/ reefs of camellias \/ swing in the shallows\" [82]). 2) There is the metaphor of a uterine-like eye likened to \"un circulo sob re aguas\" (\"a circle on waters\" [82]). In another poem Bellessi writes overtly of a \"genital eye\" (72). The eye is also the eye of the spindle, spinning signs, or the eye of the needle (in Spanish: \"el ojo de la aguja\") by which a poet fabric-ates from her own body her feminine eroic composition. The circular eye is a womb conceiving the poetic composition. Lobanov-Rostovsky tells us that \"[i]n Aristotle 's terms, the eye becomes a matrix in which light implants its substance\" (Lobanov-Rostovsky, 1997, 199). For Bellessi the eye is a matrix that conceives and fabric-ates the substance of the poem. In this feminine version of matricentrism-ocularcentrism the eye is both an enlarged and 89 dilated pupil and a dilated womb giving birth. This is also an extremely intricate conflation of eye and matrix. This conflation depends on the play between the eye of the weaving shuttle and the womb as an eye weaving the threads of the text-ile and oozing out printing ink. Waters, fluids, print or ink come out of Woman's exemplary body. The eye or womb even becomes a \"pico\" or bird beak, like a pointed stylus or an instrument for writ ing. Of course, this reminds us of Theuth, the Egyptian god of writing, whose \"pointed beak of his ibis head looks like an instrument of writ ing\" so sharp, wounding and disfiguring that it looks as if it \"had been turned into a . . . piercing nib\" (Gonzalez-Echevarria, 1986, 230) \u2014 as if it had been turned into an instrument of self-disfigurement, a knife. Bellessi's spinning shuttle of feminine exemplarism is indeed a knife of self-disfiguration, turned against the privileged and masterful category of \"Woman.\" Bellessi's beaked eye is a writing-weaving-fabric-ating instrument but also a defacement tool and a suicidal stiletto turned against the selfsame of \"Woman.\" In another poem, which I shall analyze shortly, Bellessi \u2014 perhaps heedless of what she cannot stop herself from saying \u2014 scatters her poem with various writing and traumatic tools reminiscent of instruments of torture, and indeed, of disfigurement. Silently, the poem becomes a torture chamber, a writ ing dungeon, scarring, inflicting pain. In its terrible silence, the scene is horrifying and shattering and wi l l not cease to haunt Bellessi's poetry and its language of feminine eroics, based on the narcissistic love of Woman's own self. This scene wil l traumatize and disappear Bellessi's exemplarism and Woman's selfsame forever, so that her \"Woman\" wi l l become figureless, indeed an impossible self-identity called \"Woman.\" But it wi l l also torment and wound my own discourse writ ing about \"her.\" Bellessi's fabrics and hand of love might also simultaneously tell us another story: that they not only weave and write and touch and caress and love, but also injure, efface, deface, and scar. They not only hold a loving and peaceful pen, a spindle, a shuttle, but also possess a lancet, a knife, an 3r\\zG. Their craft (or art) might not be only a feminine writing and a maternal, solacing weaving, but also a carving, sculpting, disfiguring, violent and painful inscribing. We have seen that this maternal so-called loving and solacing weaving defaces lesbians and other women. Bellessi's craft is a graphics which is also a hy(i)lo-glyphics, recalling both Theuth's beak-writing and Daedalus (male and female writer and sculptor), craft-god of the traumatic a^fce. 90 A few more remarks concerning Bellessi's crafting hand remain. Whi le Bellessi's poetry prides itself in proposing a feminine eroics, the hand is suspiciously evocative of Irigaray's Other member of sexual difference, namely, the hand of caress, which is the member of (ph)allos, of Woman, of \"being-in-the-mother as the . . . threshold of ethics\" (Spivak, 1992, 78). In this eroics of the hand, the heterosexist-reproductive ideology subsists. I find the ethics of this hand's caress st i l l dismissive and disfiguring of female homoeroticism. Bellessi's essentialist female hand is the touch of the female Other, the touch of (ph)Allos, of matriarchal eroics and love as opposed to the patriarchal, heroic phallic logos. The female eroic hand comes before orality comes to be, [and where] touch is already in existence . . . Bringing me back to life . . . the other's hands, these palms with which he approaches without going through me, give me back the borders of my body . . . Plunging me back into the maternal womb and beyond that conception, awakening me to another birth \u2014 as a loving woman. (Irigaray, 1993, 187) Irigaray's and Bellessi's hand-womb ethics of sexual difference is problematic. The dis-course on mother-uterus-hand can imply the exclusion of an-other feminine that does not perceive itself in terms of an eroics based on maternal love, as conveyed by the image of hand\/womb. For example, some lesbian women (like Soledad Farina, discussed later) advo-cate an eroics that dismisses maternity and reproduction and is based on sexual pleasure, by using the symbolism of the clitoris \"[ijnsofar as the clitoris embodies, l i terally and sym-bolically, women's pleasure outside of reproductive functions . . . [and] a 'uterine' social organization . . . [outside of] advanced capitalism . . . [not] dependent on . . . the sanctity of the nuclear family . . . and the uterine norm of motherhood\" (Forte, 1992, 251). Forte cites Spivak, who notes that ' \" i t is this ideologico-maternal repression of the clitoris as the signifier of the sexed subject that operates the specific oppression of women '\" (Spivak cited by Forte, 1992, 251). In this sense, Bellessi's discourse on mother-womb-hand is suggestive of an exclusionary ethics and politics that repress the clitoris and non-maternal women and forms of ethical love independent of the norm of motherhood and the capitalist ideol-ogy implici t in it. Consider also that in Bellessi's discourse the hand represents love, and eroics is essentially the weaving and loving mother, in opposition to poli t ical difference, to heroes, to the warlike and violent phallus, the pen, the spear, the sword. In this respect, we can compare Bellessi's eroic hand with the heroic hands invoked by Jose M a r t i \u2014 one 91 of the most vociferous apostles of American liberation from colonization: the heroic bloody hands of a few all-knowing intellectuals, messiahs who alone can emancipate the patheti-cally ignorant and impotent masses of Indians, voiceless victims: \"<i,En que patr ia puede tener un hombre mas orgullo que en nuestras republicas dolorosas de America , levantadas entre las masas mudas de indios, al ruido de pelea del libro con el cirial sobre los brazos sangrientos de un centenar de apostoles?\" (\"In which country can a man have more pride than in our painful Republics of America , risen among the mute masses of the indigenous people, in the noise of the book with the processional candlestick in the bloody hands of a hundred apostles?\" [Marti , 1976, 15]). Bellessi's eroics are set up in opposition to heroics, mother and woman versus father and man, one woman versus an-other woman, uterus versus clitoris, weaver versus apostle, matriarchy versus patriarchy, love versus war, sexual difference versus poli t ical difference, reproductive versus non-reproductive sexuality. But the story remains the same, albeit presented with a different name. To recall the theme of the puppet once more, Bellesi's hand (in Lat in manus), within this essentialist feminism or (ph)allocentric context, mani-pulates. It fabric-ates and gives bir th to the essence \"Woman\" and \"sexual difference\" to One exemplary (heterosexual) \"feminine\" and it mani-pulates them both, like voiceless fig-urines, like Mar t i ' s pathetically powerless Indian masses at the hands of a few intellectuals naturally above, at the head of, or superior to those they emancipate. This is the story of a god-like consciousness busying her\/himself in fabric-ating or mani-pulating the strings of her\/his impotent puppets. A n d that mani-pulation or domestication of the Other in one exemplary eroic case is called the touch of maternal love and in the other exemplary heroic case, emancipation! Let us come back to the occupation of spinning. Bellessi's Woman re(dis)covers herself as a goddess of spinning \u2014 perhaps like any of the West's domesticated females, or the goddesses of weaving I have already mentioned. She recovers her occupation of weaving, and is once more domesticated and put back into her place of Woman. But this time, as Bellessi's story goes, it is to reclaim Woman, to claim back her proper essence and being, her proper means of expression. Wishing to rectify phallologocentrism's exclusion of the feminine Other, Bellessi resorts to the metaphor of the textile dear to a certain feminist 92 essentialism, as a variation of ecriture feminine. The trope of the textile comes to rectify an injustice comitted against the female Other. The voice of Woman that heroics had once marginalized and rendered silent is now heard exemplarily as weaving as well as sewing, quilting, embroidering and so on. The metaphor of the textile restores Woman's voice and repairs her essence. In Bellessi's poetry, fabric has the symbolic value of re-covering Woman. In fact, the trope of the textile (notice that I am not saying the textile per se, but referring to its metaphoric usage) acts as a cover, sheet, indeed, a protective and protectionist cloth(ing), like \"la seda \/ del vacio \/ cerco \/ levantado\" (\"the silk \/ of emptiness \/ [a] raised \/ fence\" [81]), designed to protect or salvage the female Other. In a different account, Derrida writes that \"fences are screens or protections; these protections can be . . . coverings ... spread below (like rugs) or wrapped around, etc. . . . The process of division goes on . . . unti l it reaches the woven garment and the art of weaving\" (Derrida, 1981, 122). One can see that in its metaphoric usage the textile, as well as weaving, comes to protect and restitute something that is in need of protection and restitution, something that is in danger, something that was never perhaps there, something that had already and originally disappeared: the exemplary essence of \"Woman.\" This Woman is the missing, is emptiness. As Bellessi's poem cannot avoid saying, Woman is so utterly disappeared that the cover covers nothing, or emptiness itself (see: \"la seda \/ del vacio,\" \"the silk \/ of emptiness\"). In Bellessi's (ph)allocentric context the trope of the textile is employed to restore Woman's substance or even to give to her, and\/or to be, the tissue of her body. Note once more that my pun here is between text, textile, tissue, and tactility, alluding to the above observations on the Bellessian use of the uterine hand and the touch of love. Bu t what I intend with this pun is also a critique of this mujerista (ph)allocentrism that wishes to constitute \"Woman\" as presence, substance, a biological body, etc., by having recourse to the metaphor of the textile or to weaving. I call this essentialist restoration of Woman through the figure of fabrics ontology as histology. Bellessi determines Woman ontologically, granting to her a being, an essence, a body, an organ of love with specifically biological or matr ixia l attributes, a sex, a humanity, etc., with the help of textiles. One can say that this type of \"feminist\" ontology-histology is indeed an essentialist allo-logy because 93 it aims at rectifying an exemplary Alios, a singular Other \u2014 in this case Woman and her writing-craft \u2014 that had once been excluded. This onto-histo-logy is therefore an allology (i.e. what I critique as exemplarism or (ph)allocentrism). Here, the term histology to refer to this sort of (ph)allocentrism is not coincidental. I have been saying deliberately that Bellessi \"rectifies, remedies, restores, protects, re-covers, fabric-ates\" Woman. Bellessi has Woman stand as a being, an essence, a presence, a substance. As Derrida reminds us, histos is \"anything set upright ... beam of a loom, which stood upright . . . loom ... the warp fixed to the loom, hence, the woof ... woven cloth, piece of canvas . . . by anal[ogy]. spider web . . . by anal[ogy]. shinbone, leg\" (Derrida, 1981, 65). Histos is also organic tissue. In another poem I shall examine, Bellessi writes that the poem is an organ-ism. Histos gathers together all the symbolic values attached to Bellessi's female body, its text-tapestry and its writing of threads, the materiality of hilos, the idea of the weaving trope setting upright or re-covering Woman, even the fact that Bellessi mani-pulates Woman like a puppet on strings, like \"feet that dance by themselves.\" But most importantly, histos comes from histanai, which means to stand. Bellessi's exemplary weaving is an attempt to articulate Woman ontologically as a standing being, perhaps as a standing mother tongue, or an erect maternal ph-Allo-logos, eroic and swollen, and full of itself proposing its auto-conception, generation or auto-insemination \u2014 in other words, proposing Woman's ontological reproduction. (Like the Bellessian hand-womb, the textile is a cover-womb that gives birth to Woman's being and at the same time functions as this being's cover, as its \"solacing\" protection. As I have claimed, however, this cover is not at all \"solacing,\" for it brings no relief to Woman's already damaged or disfigured essence.) Heidegger refers to a histo-onto-logy analogous to Bellessi's: \"In a certain broad sense the Greeks looked on language from a visual point of view, that is starting from the written language. It is in writ ing that the spoken language comes to stand. Language is, i.e., it stands, in the written image of the word, in the written signs, the letters, grammata\" (Heidegger cited by Derrida, 1978d, 184). Just like Gandelman's Hebrew alphabet, where letters have the shape of man, so too letters in Bellessi's text alluded to within her poem are the tissue of Woman's being. A n d just as writing sets speech up, so weaving rectifies the mutilated voice of Woman. Weaving 94 is like an orthopedic cast (histos, shinbone, leg) placed over Woman's disfigured being and tongue. It is like a splint designed to straighten up and assist something already injured and damaged: namely, the (ph)allocentric or ontological category of Woman and her proper language. I am speaking figuratively here, but it can be argued that weaving operates in this poetry like a cloth, a remedial bandage placed over an original trauma: the wound of oneself not being oneself. This observation recalls once more Daedalus's a?fee, the original disfigurement that constitutes any essentialist, standing or tumescent being. In this sense, histology in Bellessi's poem functions truly as a remedy \u2014 Derrida might say as a prosthesis or as a supplement 1 3 \u2014 an orthopedic means that serves to restore an originally or already missing Woman. Bellessi's trope of weaving is like a false leg, a crutch, the stilt not of a standing, but of a l imping female Being. Histology is intended by Bellessi to make Woman hard and full of herself. She now has her proper means of expression, of weaving, an eroic writing as loud as heroic or apostolic speech. Weaving is the mother tongue, the Other's voice erected and restored in all its logocentric might and splendor. Weaving, the exemplary writ ing of Woman, recovers the Other's speech, and Bellessi reclaims her Woman and her Other tongue, restoring also Allo-phono-centrism (i.e. the privileging of one Other and its proper expression or voice). The graphic sign is spun and mani-pulated by Woman's uterine hand and becomes a poem full of life (or so it seems) that dances like a puppet, or hops on the page: \"Rotacion del signo \/ . . . \/ Composicion \/ . . . E l l a salta \/ Joyerfa \/ minuscula \/ de la hierba\" (\"Spinning of signs \/ . . . Composition \/ . . . \/ it [\"she\"] leaps \/ miniscule jewelry \/ of cotton grass\" [81-83]). This is the image of ink and typographic thread that make up the poem. It also denotes written signs presented as female genitalia or the jewelry of chastity. W i t h \"hierba\" \u2014 which in Spanish is also marijuana \u2014 Bellessi repeats (inadvertently perhaps) almost intact Freud's misogynist conception of Woman and her \"thick vei l\" of pubic hair designed to cover her sex, that \"cavity filled with pus.\" \"Hierba,\" the written sign or pubic hair, is a woven cloth. Woman's body (tissue), genital \"strands of nature,\" text-ile or poem, are all equated here. The metaphor conforms with the histological reparation of Woman by l inking the weaving of Lat in American Women's eroic poetry or feminine writing with a specific female anatomy \u2014 which is ultimately disturbing in its allusion to 95 Freud's Woman as the deficient sex. The graphic sign is a sexual sign. Feminine writ ing (text-ile, tissue, \"strands of nature,\" etc.) is the body of Woman. I am reminded here of many problematic conceptions of writing, of the materiality of poem, book, etc., implici t in Bellessi's images, which come either from Western phono-logo-centric values or from a \"feminist\" (ph)allocentrism as questionable as the phallologocentrism it claims to counteract. Cixous, for example, thinks of writ ing as coming from the womb. Cixous's images resemble Bellessi's metaphor of the uterine hand (see: \"miniature in \/ my hand\" [83]) that spins the poetic composition. Here is Cixous relating writing to the maternal body: \"[Writing] is deep in my body, further down, behind thought . . . Somewhere in my stomach, my womb\" (Cixous, 1993, 118). In another instance, Cixous writes that Promethea's \"vocabulary comes always from the guts, hers or the earth's. It comes out smoking and violent, with roots st i l l permeated with birthing blood, with earth, with salt, wi th o i l \" (Cixous, 1991, 23). Jane Marcus goes even further. She tells us that \"the book . . . is the mother's body\" (Marcus, 1988, 237). In this type of feminism, materialist (ph)allocentrism, biologism, humanism and essentialism conflate. The human, Woman, and the maternal reproductive body become the exemplary figures that lend their unique materiality to text, and to writ-ing taken as physiological, feminine tissue. Very few of these writers or artists bother to question the essences of human, woman, mother, writing, text, or book which they assume always as given (Cixous may be one of them). Very few question their own exclusionary biologism that privileges exemplarily the human or woman, life versus death, the hetero-sexual body versus a homosexual corporeality, the organic versus the inorganic, writ ing or weaving versus other means of communication, and so on. Few are wil l ing to challenge their absolute faith in an external referent (Woman, mother, the maternal body) that is determined biologically and heterosexually as such and comes as an indestructible Goddess presence to inspire the book, to fill wi th its presence the writing of the book. In this so-called feminism the external referent is exemplarily Woman. It is admissible and perfectly reasonable for this (ph)allocentric discourse that the feminine or the maternal body can be the singular substance of the book and can name a wri t ing as feminine writing and a tongue as a mother tongue. This is not only extremely problematic, 96 but also dangerously exclusive. For to take this claim to its logical conclusion, it follows that it is also admissible to have a racially, sexually, etc., determined writ ing, one that not only has a feminine tissue \u2014 however this word is understood here \u2014 but also a skin, an exemplary color of skin. It even follows from this claim that some writ ing defined essentially and paradigmatically in terms of race or even of class can merit more privileges than others. It further follows that i f there is a feminine writing, a writing-weaving that recalls Woman's fabric-body (with a proper anatomy, pubic hair and all) , there can also be naturally and exemplarity a white writing, an Aryan tongue, a pure-blooded or upper-class language, a book that is the dictator's body! All such exemplarism is nothing but supremacy. I am not simply speaking theoretically here \u2014 although I am st i l l not certain what the univocal category of the theoretical signifies here. I am not merely referring to a theoretical violence of exemplarism as supremacy removed from reality. What is called rather quickly theory, as well as praxis, history and reality are built upon this violence. In the case of the sex, the humanity of writ ing, or the materiality, the skin or the class of the book, I would remind the reader of the following historical moments and very real examples of supremacist exemplarity. One of the first measures taken by fascist regimes, by mil i tary juntas everywhere (including those of Lat in America), even by so-called democratic systems with the purpose of consolidating the supremacy of the few, is to censor, destroy and burn the other writings, the other books that do not conform to the singularity of One writing and One official language. This way, the system not only aims at burning and disappearing the book, but also incinerating and defacing the other, setting the body of the other on fire, obliterating it, burying it under ashes or in graves. Even in systems presumed to be democratic, it is on the basis that the written verb assumes the flesh (body, skin, sexuality, etc.) of \"dissident\" people that books are stopped at the border (see Canada's Li t t le Sisters' case); or the reading or teaching of certain books is prohibited in schools as destructive to family values; or, as in many Lat in American fascist regimes, books and people classified as Marxist (or in the German nationalist example, as Jewish) are reduced to ashes; writings are condemned to fire and their writers to death and death threats are even issued against those that supposedly write against a unique system or religion 97 (see Salman Rushdie's case). For these systems, and for certain discourses, there exists a unique writing attributed to a particular sex, class, religion, sexuality, skin, body, sexual or political orientation, and consequently, by virtue of this writing's essence, uniqueness and universality, whatever does not identify with such writ ing must be turned into charred pages, in the \"best\" of cases, and in the worst case, it must turn into charred flesh and tortured or disappeared bodies. But perhaps it is this essentialist writ ing, this and any hegemonic and official tongue, that must turn itself into grave dust and ashes. It is the unique, the proper, the exem-plary writing and body that must identify with, or become, what such singular writ ing excludes, burns, censors, vanishes, and disfigures beyond recognition. This writing must itself become so disfigured that we can no longer recognize it as exemplarily and univer-sally feminine or masculine, heterosexual or homosexual, maternal or paternal, white or black, with this or that anatomy, with a penis or a vagina, a phallus or a womb, a skin color, and so on. A l l self-identical or essentialist writ ing and the exemplary body behind it is hy(i)lography; that is, all such paradigmatic and violent essences are missing. What I mean by this is that all such essentialist writing is a mere shadow of itself, \"the shadow of the undeclared\" (Levin on Derrida, 1998, 274), the shadow of the unidentified and charred books or bodies, the not yet recognized as such. A n essentialist feminine writ ing is made up of hyle and hilos. It has the materiality of a wooden doll , a puppet, and a woven cloth upon which a shadow of itself is cast and is itself a shadow puppet. It is a figurine, a ghost, a dead-alive walking figure, a ghcest empty of itself. It is like the phantasms \"of Auschwitz and the ashen silhouettes of Nagasaki\" (Gross on statues adjusted to my context, 1992, 28). Bellessi's feminine, heterosexual\/sexist weaving is the ghost of its disappeared. Her feminine writing is never itself and therefore it is itself a disappeared, or as Bellessi says in another poem, a \"[sjigno . . . \/ . . . \/ . . . pequeiio fantasma\" (\"[s]ign . . . \/ . . . \/ . . . l i t t le ghost\" [37]). It does not yet have an anatomy or a name (called feminine, for example). Contrary to what Bellessi's discourse might wish to advocate, her feminine writ ing seems to \"figure [itself] only in the shadows of print cast, like dust, or like ashes over the silent whiteness of the page\" (Levin, 1998, 283). Bellessi's feminine writ ing is in the state of being haunted by the ghcest, of being emptied of itself, of being disappeared: \"Death strolls 98 between letters\" (Derrida, 1978a, 71). Is not Bellessi's page upon which this so-called feminine writing is cast a texture (textile-tissue-cloth) of shadows? Bellessi indeed writes that the paper is \"la textura en sombra\" and \"la seda \/ del vacio\" (\"the shadowy texture\" and \"the silk \/ of emptiness\" [81]). Behind this cloth or mask, which the paper is, there is a face of a dancer, but we never see the face, only the mask. The true face is effaced, perhaps defaced in this theatre of shadows. The true face is a dead face, a \"rostro muerto\" (82). A n d the shadows are phantasms. They are those that never show (appear) their face in Bellessi's poetry. They are the shadows of those that Bellessi's unique Woman excludes and the disappeared ghcEst(s) that return to haunt \"her.\" They are the shadows of the disappeared. The words \"the disappeared\" here indicate simultaneously: a) a general other that has not yet appeared as such, and thus remains st i l l figureless, unidentified and unknown, in contrast with an essentialist and all-encompassing Other identified as Woman; b) all other(s) \u2014 including other women, lesbians, etc. \u2014 that Bellessi's \"feminine\" defaces and vanishes; and c) Argentina's los desaparecidos. Woman's Unique Face Effaced: An Excessive Ethics and a Hy-perfeminism of the Figure-less The word \"rostro,\" repeated twice in this poem, ultimately represents the ghcestly face of death. The defacement of self is \"the giving and taking away of faces, . . . face and deface, figure, figuration and disfiguration . . . [A] ' se l f is never in itself\" (Derrida, 1986b, 27-8). \"Rostro\" is itself a haunting word, for in Spanish it has three different and contradictory meanings: it is both face and mask, but also beak. In Greek prosopon is both face and person, but also prosopoTon or mask. In an oneiric scene in Bellessi's poem which I described earlier, there is an eye-womb. Perhaps because of its supposed roundness, this eye also resembles the face of the moon reflected upon waters like a beak or beacon of light: \" E l ojo pasa \/ U n circulo sobre aguas \/ Pico\" (\"The eye passes \/ A circle on water \/ Beak\" [82]). One can read this \"rostro\" as a variation of hy(i)lography in the special sense I have given to this word and which means in general a process of self-defacement or self-disfiguration. This disfigurement recalls other 99 scarifications, whether one thinks of them as having occurred in Argentina's dungeons or prisons or as denoting those less privileged others that Bellessi's exclusive feminine, heterosexual Other wants to efface in its unique face. M y understanding of \"rostro\" as figurement-disfigurement also implies a play with the French word figure, wi th the figurative or metaphoric, with the English \"to figure (out),\" and with figurine in the sense of a shadow silhouette or a puppet and in the sense of the ghost or ghcest, i.e., the empty, figureless. In the sense of the figurative or the tropic, I read \"rostro\" in the following terms: it is an effect of self-difference whereby something or someone is the figure or the mask of something else, but never itself. Being the figure of something else, the self is haunted: it is a self by being an-other. The self becomes a ghost of itself. It becomes defaced or never returns specularly to itself. The self is a ghcest. This , of course, allows me to say that Bellessi's exclusive and exemplary feminine Other is the \"rostro\" of the disappeared (los desaparecidos), or \"she\" is the face of those others that \"she\" disappears\/defaces\/elides. In a hyper-ethico-political sense, it can be said that Woman's exemplary face becomes an-other's face. A n d since Woman's face, at least in Bellessi's poetry, signals exclusively Sexual Difference and one Other (i.e. the maternal feminine), it can be further argued that Sexual Difference and the Feminine Other also exceed themselves and become polit ical difference and a polit ical other. In other words, what I am articulating here in regard to the face is this: Bellessi's Woman is an exemplary Other that becomes another other ov acquires \"someone\" else's face, while being herself. Therefore, she is at once herself and other than herself. Similarly, sexual difference is not simply a singular, dominant and exclusive difference. It is sexual while being also ethico-political. Both Woman and sexual difference are ef-faced or are de-faced. What this means is that they both are while they are not. They point simultaneously and exclusively at themselves while being other than themselves, while excluding themselves. They are figured while they are disfigured. Again, to recall the play of puppets and shadows, I suggest that Woman is, indeed, a rostro, a person or a face (of Woman) which is also the mask of something other than herself. Woman is an im-person-ation or a dummy, and I wi l l agree with Cixous, who writes of Woman as a \"person-plus-shadow... I am one who is only two, one of them a shadow\" (Cixous, 1991, 16). 100 Do I attempt to disfigure Woman and her face or dismiss the feminine and the sexual as irrelevant? Not at al l . If I were doing so, my act not only would have demonstrated a certain naivete on my part, but also would have signified a violence directed toward Woman and towards a (feminine) alterity. I must repeat that my gesture is a hyperfeminist gesture that relates the feminine to its excluded others, but without entirely abandoning the one in favour of the other. To replace one with another would be to reenact the same exemplarism I critique. I do not neglect the feminine (or by extension the specifically Argentinian and polit ical other), but I relate it to something other than itself. This is why I say that Woman maintains her face by being effaced. In herself she is other: she is an ego-ghasst, beyond (the \"beyond\" here signifies excess, the \"hyper\") any (ph)allocentric mujerista \"egology\" and even \"egoism\" that affirms exclusively the priority of one Other (the heterosexual Woman and the (m)Other) at the expense of others. Implicitly, my complaint here \u2014 other than the following point \u2014 is directed against Irigaray's powerful critique of Levinas. It is true that Levinas \"abandons the feminine other\" which, according to Irigaray, \"is left without her own specific face.\" Irigaray writes that for Levinasian ethics \"the feminine does not stand for an other to be respected in her human freedom and human identity . . . On this point, his [Levinas's] philosophy falls radically short of ethics.\" Advocating an essentialist recovery of Woman's face and against Levinas's disfigurements of the feminine, Irigaray claims: \"To go beyond the face of metaphysics would mean precisely to leave the woman her face, and even to assist her to discover it and to keep it. Levinas scarcely unveils the disfigurements brought about by ontotheology\" (Irigaray, 1991, 113-14). In fact, Irigaray's enterprise, like that of Bellessi, is to figure out Woman exemplarily. Their enterprise is to assist her to discover her true face and to keep it, to assist her to recover her human freedom and her human identity, in Irigaray's precise words. Thus, once more the feminine, the human, identity, the true face, etc., are values or so-called \"feminist\" ontotheological concepts that acquire a certain exemplary priority: the feminine is now placed above man, the human above the non-human and above the animal, and identity, a paradigmatic identity called feminine or maternal, is even placed above alterity, and sexual difference above ethical difference. 101 It is true that Levinas makes sexual difference secondary to ethical difference. As Derrida argues, however, the feminine would be more other than Other; it would be in Levinas's discourse the other to his wholly Other. The feminine would be the other to Levinas's ethical Other marked by the masculine pronoun \"he.\" (Derrida, 1991c, 4 2 ) . Bu t is it not also true that, by reclaiming the feminine and Woman's face, Irigaray and Bellessi enact something analogous to Levinas's disfigurements, simply by changing the disfigured terms? Is it not the case that both Irigaray and Bellessi deface another other in the exclusive face of Woman, in the importance they both accord to sexual difference over, say, ethico-political difference? Is it not true, for instance, that for both Irigaray and Bellessi, the non-human, the animal, man, the non-maternal, the lesbian woman, or non-mother, the ethico-political etc., are secondary to Woman, to the (m)Other, to the sexual? One might say that Levinas would rather have the ethical have the upper hand and Bellessi and Irigaray would rather have the sexual dominate the ethical and the poli t ical . In either exemplary case, someone prioritizes and defaces in the masterful name of a unique face. In both cases someone disfigures. The disfigurement in Levinas's case occurs in the priority given to the ethical face of the Other marked singularly as \"he\" or always as human: \"The [Other's] face that calls me [the subject] into question is not the face of the animal\" (Llewelyn, 1991, 242) . It is a human face: \"The door of . . . [Levinas's ethic] would seem to be slammed in . . . [an animal's] face, assuming that . . . [it] has one\" (Llewewlyn, 1991, 242) . The defacement in Bellessi's and Irigaray's case occurs in the priority accorded to the sexual face of the Other marked exclusively as feminine, human, and even maternal, heterosexual, etc. As I suspect, in particular with Bellessi's discourse and its reclamations of a feminine face, the door of its eroics would seem to be slammed in a lesbian's (non-mother), a poli t ical prisoner's or disappeared'''s face, assuming that she\/he has one! A n d one can, of course, include other countless doors being slammed here in the face of everything that does not qualify as maternal or as feminine. M y position is different from Levinas's, Irigaray's, Bellessi's or her forefathers' heroic and masculine politics, in that it cuts across both the sexual and the ethico-political. It should be noted that this is not, strictly speaking, a position, but the excess of all positions that seek to posit the other or to establish an exemplary Other. This position appears to me 102 reluctant to settle into One and all-encompassing face, whether it be called sexual or ethical or poli t ical , whether it be a feminine or a masculine face, human or animal, and so on. M y excessive position, in effect, is this: instead of slamming doors we need to open them widely, and even create as many doors as possible, and welcome in absolute hospitality those that do not yet possess a (unique) face, those that are shadows. We even need to welcome those who are a threat to our own unique face. We need to open the door to the utterly defaced, to those we cannot yet figure out and thus possess. We need to open the door to the as yet figureless (\"woman\"), the disappeared, the ghcest. (Note that the disappeared here is not quite the missing of Argentina, although the word deliberately conserves a relationship with the actual missing and conveys a non-essentialist figure of the feminine or the missing \"woman.\") We need to understand that the other has many, incalculable and unrecognizable faces, and that it is impossible to single out exemplarily one face and exclude others. This would be a hyperethics and a hyperfeminism of faces in the plural, the one always pointing to another, the one always disappearing, becoming effaced and leaving its unique place to another. This would be an egoless\/figureless face of a face, like Derrida's trace of the trace. This would articulate an ethics beyond Levinas's masculine ethics, a feminism beyond Irigaray's and Bellessi's feminism, and a politics beyond the heroic politics of fathers, apostles and messiahs guiding an ignorant \"pueblo.\" This would be the dance of more than One face and more than one Sex. This would be the dance of more than one \"bailarfn,\" moving beyond Bellessi's \"ballet dancer.\" It would exceed Bellessi's feminine poem that hops on the page-stage like a human organ, like a diminutive body, like a puppet on a string, in a shadow theatre, in a tapestry or in a dancing scene; or like an organ-letter analogous to those described by Braccielli 's alfabeto figurato as \"choreographic figure[s] . . . [of] bodies [presented] as physical metaphors of written characters or symbolic designs . . . the body . . . was a figure of language\" (Franko, 1993, 15-7). It would be a dance that steps over and beyond the letters of a specifically feminine materiality, beyond Woman's organs and heterosexually determined body, beyond a feminine, maternal writ ing or feminine sign that uncovers One face (Woman's) and signals One erect Feminine Being, or any singular Being. This dance would be a sign of 103 the disappearance of any unique Being and the vanishment of the violence of exclusions that this Being's exemplarity brings about. This dance would be the violence upon the violence of the One Face: it would be the dance of the disappeared and of the defaced. Footnotes of Dance: The Dance of the Disappeared Caught i n the power of gravi ty the art iculated puppets can r ight ly be said to be dead, hanging and suspended l ike dead bodies . . . albeit . . . dead cleansed of pathos . . . [T]he puppet 's dance . . . [is] a continuous mo t ion . . . [opposed to] a dialect ic . . . [which] can never be a dance . . . [I]t is a dance of death and m u t i l a t i o n . . . [D]ead, mere pendula . . . they follow the law of pure gravi ty . . . T h i s dance . . . is the u l t imate . . . [fall], as unavoidable as it is deadly. P a u l de M a n 1 4 Personae Dramatis In Order of Disappearance These are the 16 guerrillas executed by their warders in the Admiral Tzar air-sea base at three-thirty in the early morning of the 22nd of August, 1972, according to the description given by their fugitive comrades in Chile. CARLOSHERBERTOASTUDILLO (Revolut ionary A r m e d Forces, R A F \/ 28years old. RUBEN PEDRO BONET (People's Revoluc ionary A r m y , P R A J , 30 years old. EDUARDO ADOLFO CAPELLO (PRA), 24 years old. MARIO EMILIODELFINO (PRA), 29years old. ALBERTO CARLOS DEL REY (PRA), 26years old. ALFREDO ELI AS KOHON (RAF), 27 years old. CLARISA ROSA LEA PLACE (PRA), 24years old. SUSAN A LESGART (Montoneros), 22 years old. fOSERICARDOMENA (PRA), 20years old. MIGUEL ANGEL POLTI (PRA), 21 years old. MARIANO PUJADAS (Montoneros \/ 24years old. MARIA ANGELICA SABELLI (RAP). 23years old. ANNA MARIA VILLAREAL DE SANTUCHO (PRA), 36years old. HUMBERTOSEGUNDOSUAREZ (PRA), 26years old. JORGEALEfANDRO ULLA (PRA), 28years old. Tomas E l o y M a r t i n e z 1 5 104 I begin writ ing this section in fear and trembling. I want to write not with ink, but with blood and tears. I want to write responsibly and respectfully, I want to write in pain and fear, with the madness of pain, to write with the anguish of a writing that is not a \"deter-mined pathos,\" but the responsibility of \"angustia towards the dead.\" Wri t ing , for Derrida, \"is the anguish of the Hebraic ruah, experienced in solitude by human responsibility\" (Der-rida, 1978b, 9). But here, this writing \"you\" are about to read is the angustia and agony of the disappeared. I am beginning this tremendous and agonizing section with faces, with \"rostros,\" with personae. Is it a drama, a theatre of shadows, or a deadly dance that takes place here? I am holding a pen that writes, incises and sculpts this page. M y pen might indeed be an a r t e that en-graves sixteen disappeared names, carves out their faces on a \"retablo,\" an altar to the dead. \"Retablo\" is used by Bellessi as altarpiece, puppet play and display, but in Lat in Amer ica a \"retablo\" in general is also a sculptural artifact used in the ritual commemoration of the dead: \"Memory and ceremonies of memory . . . pivot on the annual celebration of the Day of the dead and the tradition of altar-making. [On dia de los muertos home] altars are constructed to honor and sanctify the dead\" (Gaspar de A l b a , 1998, 74). I find it astonishing how the word altar sounds (and looks) almost like alter, the Lat in word for other. I even shudder at the thought that \"retablo,\" employed so innocently by Bellessi to describe eroic thoughts on poetic language, insinuates violence, death and torture. It even insinuates graves, tombstones, epitaphs placed on graves, the monumental, names of the dead chiseled on a gravestone, names of the disappeared inscribed upon the gheestly whiteness of the page, itself a white mask of death beginning this section. But then, both Bellessi's and my pages might be graves, might be \"retablos\" in memory of those each one of us in her own way strives to disappear and forget. Lest we forget, we (myself, Bellessi, any one of us) might instead have become the altar-alter, the other entombed, disfigured, vanished, tormented. We might be the \"rostros,\" the \"papel,\" the personas or the masks, we might be a \"silk of emptiness\" through which the dead speak. We might be like those masks which Feitlowitz evokes, recalling a march by surviving desaparecidos in Argentina who \"wore [dead-like] white plastic masks that covered all their faces (except for their eyes) and most of their heads . . . Appearing out of darkness [like ghcests or ghosts, indeed] 105 they were an unnerving sight . . . [W]earing the mask gave you [also] an involuntary sense memory of being in capucha\" (Feitlowitz, 1998, 192). Capucha means hood and denotes here the cowl worn by traitors and\/or collaborators with the mil i tary regime. Capucha is also the cowl often worn by polit ical prisoners about to be executed, disappeared or transferred to another prison. But I am running ahead of myself. First , I need to remind my reader that this part, entitled \"Footnotes of Dance: The Dance of the Disappeared,\" is ideally intended to be read like the first section of this chapter, which I had framed like an altar. I also presuppose an ^t, a wooden cross by which a puppeteer controls her\/his figurines and which must be imagined as attached to the title of this section by invisible strings. For \"I,\" myself an all-knowing and encompassing subject-master, might simply be the puppet. The ? t is also Daedalus's a^te, a sculpting, writing and torture instrument, inscribing these pages or this altar in memory of countless shadows, the missing. In a sense, this section is a \"retablo\" commemorating the disappeared, the dead, the disfigured and the effaced of my own discourse. Without intending to assume any false pathos, the hypocritical pathos of the demagogue whose em-pathetic words truly hide a narcissistic self-love, I want to write: I am haunted, I can even say, tormented by those I erase and deface. I am followed by my own shadows and ghosts \u2014 but are we not all? This \"I\" that addresses \"you\" might be nothing itself but a ghcest figured like a shadow of print cast on the white page. This \"I,\" that addresses you might be the plaything. This \"I\" that at moments speaks with the arrogance of the intellectual that knows and masters it a l l , is no less violent than the violences it attributes to Bellessi's discourse. It is no more innocent because it is the critical I\/eye that reads between the lines and accuses Bellessi's feminine eroics of being exclusionary. This \"I\" might itself be hollowed out with an aJ-^e, might itself be an altar-alter, an altar to the other. Unbeknownst to it, this \"I\" might be its own ghasst, an ego spooked, scared away, disappeared: a masterful \"I\" always under the a ? t e (under erasure, in Derrida's terms). This section therefore must be read as visually recalling effects of hy(i)lographics-glyphics, recalling effects of violent self-erasure, of the traumas which a self, any masterful self, must suffer in order to be itself. This trauma is the suffering of the other upon oneself. To repeat 106 again briefly what was elaborated in the previous section: we must become the other's pain, her\/his injuries and scars, her\/his screams and bruises, her\/his terrifying cries and torn flesh, the fear and agony, the blood, the sweat of fright, the tears that plead for mercy, and the open wound, the tortured body left like a mutilated and discarded ragdoll, like a dead puppet, her\/his dead body, the unidentified missing, or the corpse. We must become not the master but the bodies savaged and brutalized like playthings in the hands of the master. We must become the other. Only by becoming the other(s) do we begin, beyond our \"I\" or ego, to hear and respond to the other. To remember Levinas and Derrida, adjusted to my context, responsibility to the other means absolute selflessness, the disappearance of one's own self, of one's most precious possession: one's \"I\". The self, therefore, is an altar to the other, in fear, anguish, and trembling. 107 An Altar to the Ghaest: El desaparecido and el trasladado The body no longer has any members, if members are the functional parts of a whole . . . Nothing ever becomes the sum or the system of the corpus. A lip, a finger, a breast, a strand of hair . . . is . . . temporary . . . and elsewhere. This elsewhere is all over the body, . . . and in all other bodies, which each can be part for another, in an indefinitely ectopic corpus. Jean-Luc Nancy 1 6 What intrigues me about Nancy's observation on the ectopic body is not so much the idea of a body in parts, but his notion of elsewhereness. On the one hand, the disarticulated body might remind us of the motif of the disjointed puppet. The body corresponding to its dismembered organs is a body whose feet, articulii, joints or members dance by themselves. A fragmented body is a disfigured and unrecognizable body. For example, one can no longer be able to identify such a deformed body sexually, to give it, that is, a feminine identity, or human, or any identity at al l . The disarticulation of the body, and by extension, of identity is implied by alterity, as a structure of disfigurement: alterity as disarticulation is \"the very possibility and process of embodiment: it conditions . . . bodies . . . [and] makes them other than themselves, other than their 'nature,' their functions and identities\" (Grosz, 1994, 209). On the other hand, the disarticulation of the body and of its identity implies a certain disappearance of the body as a totality, a system. In Nancy's elsewhereness the body might have disappeared because is has become something else or someone else's body. The body might be missing because it has been lifted off its feet, it has left itself and has been transferred elsewhere. It is this disappearance-transferral, this elsewhereness that wi l l occupy me in reading an-other of Bellessi's untitled poems encountered on pages 56-58 of Eroica. (For a reproduc-tion of the original and a translation, see the \"Appendix\" of this study.) This poem is from a section of Eroica (preceding \"Dual\" in which the poem on pages 81-84 discussed above is located) called \"Intempesta Nocte.\" This poem, like other poems from \"Intempesta Nocte\" or the entire book, reveals a preoccupation with poetic image, word, language, and text and uses theatrical tropes that link it to puppetry. For example, the poem's violent, bloody imagery with its connection to theatre or puppetry can also be found in another poem from \"Intempesta Nocte,\" in which Bellessi's writes: \"De un manotazo \/ 108 los hilos que sostienen \/ la escena \/ E l anfiteatro se llena \/ de sangi-e \/ sangre sobre las gradas \/ Huye el Core- \/ Queda la tragedia \/ sin publico ni prueba\" (\"From a smacking \/ the strings that support \/ the scene \/ The amphitheater \/ fills with blood \/ blood in the rows \/ The Chorus flees \/ The tragedy remains \/ without spectators \/ without proof [also performance]\" [53]). This citation, in which the text is viewed as a bleeding scene or as a \"texto \/ . . . [como] drama\" (\"text \/ . . . [as] drama\" [53]), employs the same images seen earlier (in the poem on pages 81-84), when Bellessi portrays the text(-ile) as a play of puppets in which \"[e]ach scene \/ generates another\" (82). In \"Intempesta Nocte\" there are references to music, violent or screeching guitars, bloody tuning (60), the poetic voice as \"open wound\" (61), screaming (63) etc. The entire group of poems is marked by constant allusions to blood, torment, violence, shadows (and ghosts), darkness, all related by the title \"Intempesta Nocte\" (freely-translated as \"late at night\") to poetic language or textual production. I wi l l now examine in detail the poem on pages 56-58 of Eroica and return to alterity as disappearance and to Nancy's \"elsewhereness\" introduced at the beginning of this section. Although \"missing\" and \"transferred\" (like the figureless, Daedalus, the puppet and so on) are constructed as a critique of feminine exemplarity and of Sexual Difference they could easily be applied to the deconstruction of any exemplary Other and any exemplary Difference. In a hyperfeminist sense, they are constructed so as to exceed all examples. They both also allude (without17 being them) to Argentina's los desaparecidos and los trasladados, simply because Bellessi's singular Eroic Difference must relate itself to its other: namely, it must relate itself to the elsewhere, to the poli t ical which Bellessi's feminine eroics transfers out of sight and elides. Using the concept of organ, playing with its derivatives and even creating a number of neologisms based on that word, Bellessi speaks of a poem as organic matter \u2014 exactly like the tissue of the mother's body \u2014 which the poet articulates and organizes. W i t h the word \"poet\" I am not referring here to Bellessi as a poet, but to the poet Bellessi suggests in these particular verses. This suggested poet is, of course, Bellessi's own replica or figurine, the poetic subject in question, as I argued earlier in this chapter. In any case, both in the extract I wi l l immediately cite and in general throughout this poem (and in the 109 section in which the poem belongs), what strikes me most is the use of extremely violent images. Bellessi writes of \"sangre \/ tartajeada \/ organizando \/ la . . . \/ materia organica \/ en orgonas \/ en orgotas \/ en organigramas \/ que ni siquiera \/ las celulas \/ atisban \/ en su lento suefio de plasma\" (\"stammering \/ blood \/ organizing \/ the . . . \/ organic matter \/ in orgones \/ in orgotes \/ in organgrams \/ that not even \/ the cells discern \/ in their slow sleep \/ of plasma\" [57]). M y English translation of these very complex verses and neologisms might indeed be what is stammering here. The images have an anatomical quality to them and even the words that constitute them are cut words, neologisms created as if they were being sliced, word-organs. (There are other violent poems in Bellessi's book that dissect the body. See pages 25-28) 1 8 It seems as i f these words were written with a disfiguring stylus, an a?fce or a scalpel. Language is stammering, words are carved out like diminutive altars. The neologisms have as their root the word organ. From \"organizing\" Bellesi moves to the poetic, organic matter or the poem as organism, and then such matter becomes a) \"orgones:\" this is Bellessi's neologic concatenation combining \"organ,\" perhaps \"gonium\" or \"cell\" and even the Greek \"gono,\" meaning \"procreation,\" \"offspring,\" \"semen, \"seed\"; b) \"orgotes\": this is another neologism that plays with \"organ\" and the Spanish \"gota\" or \"drop,\" an allusion perhaps to organic fluids such as blood or orgasmic discharge; c) \"organgrams\": this is a combination of \"organ\" and the Greek \"gramma,\" meaning \"letter\" or \"graphic sign.\" Certainly Bellessi refers to the poem as a combination of organgrams, and the text as composed of organs-members, as a body engendered by the mother-poet's hand. Not only does she refer to it as such, but \"Bellessi herself\" enacts what she says by creating a poem made up of wounded organs and broken words. This time the pen that writes, or the spindle that weaves the fabric of the poem, has become a dis-figuring scapel, a dis-articulating and sharp instrument of excisions and cuts. In fact, this is a deformed and disarticulated poem that bleeds like an injured body or like an excised organ \u2014 articulus is member, organ \u2014 and does not articulate. To use Bellessi's exact words: it \"stammers,\" bleeding (see: \"sangre tartajeada\"). I want to return to this change of writing-weaving instruments, as it is expressed in this particular poem. But before I do so, I wi l l very briefly compare Bellessi's organgrams and the violence 110 they inspire with analogous anatomical images taken from one of Peter Greenaway's films. Bellessi's verses \u2014 both the ones commented on earlier as well as the poem I am now reading \u2014 recall for me a specific scene from Prospero's Books, almost in its entirety. In this scene, the written word becomes an organ and even aquires human and maternal flesh. Prospero appears to hold a book of anatomy \"full of descriptive drawings of the workings of the human bodies which, when the pages open, move and throb, and bleed\" (Elliot and Pardy, 1992, 181). The drawings on the pages of Prosperos's book \"open up to reveal more drawings underneath . . . most of al l \u2014 of images of procreation. As he turns the pages Prospero's fingers appear to become covered in blood . . . the organs of the body become three-dimensional . . . then red ink floods the page . . . and then black ink. There are the sounds of babies' cries\" (from the film's script, cited by Ell iot and Pardy, 1992, 182). From one of the pages of Prospero's book the birthing body of his wife emerges. As was true in Bellessi's case, in Greenaway's film the maternal body emerges also as the metaphoric locus of the book's conception: the poet organ-izes, that is, \"she\" conceives. The book becomes the fabric of Woman's body, sharing with it the materiality of its human tissue. Bellessi tells us that the poetic matter is organic, bleeding matter. Everything here \u2014 from the book, to the letters, to writing, to text \u2014 is linked to the womb through obstetrical images of childbirth, organs, the laboring female body, flowing blood or ink, etc. The written word becomes Woman's flesh, an organ-ism sharing Woman's organic materiality. To conceive, to create are in Bellessi's (ph)allocentric context, maternal functions. The body of Woman breaks open and bleeds exactly like the poetic word, like organgrams, like the poetic universe flesh of her flesh, blood of her blood, coming out of her body. Irigaray tells us something analogous, connecting Woman's lips that speak together with the mother's vaginal lips open to generate. Irigaray's story is in certain respects another phonologocentric legend privileging orality \u2014 although this time this orality is a polit ically correct one, since it evokes the mother tongue (langue) and an essentially constructed \"feminine individual\" (Irigaray's words). Irigaray proposes that \"[t]he importance of the lips may correspond with that of the generation of the universe . . . [Tantric] traditions tell us that in order to indicate that which is not yet manifest, one must say m keeping the lips together. We often find the m in the word for mother.\" Further down in the same article Irigaray associates Woman's lips with the word labyrinth: Labyrinth may perhaps come from lapis, stone, or share the same origin. But my hypothesis 111 is that the word has the same etymology as lips: labra, plural of labrum. The labyrinth \u2014 through which Ariadne, for example, would know the way \u2014 may thus be the labyrinth of her lips. The mystery of women's lips: their opening to create the universe, and their closing to touch each other again, so that the self-identity of the feminine individual may be perceived. (Irigaray, 1989, 135) Perhaps Irigaray is right, and perhaps not. Perhaps Women's lips are connected to the oral (in-spiration, Irigaray tells us later), linked to generation and life, in a feminist, (ph)allocentric essentialism that st i l l wants to hold on to the exemplary figure of Mother and Woman, to \"the self-identity of the feminine individual\" (Irigaray, 1989, 135). I say \"perhaps\" only to condition both Irigaray's and Bellessi's essentialist feminism. I say it because the etymology Irigaray is eager to reject in regard to the labyrinth, because she favours the oral, the feminine, the maternal, generation and life, is also an etymology that relates labyrinth to exactly opposite significations, to lapis, stone and by extension to glyphics-graphics, to en-graving, writing, and scarring, monumental inscription, altar-making and even death. What Irigaray therefore hastens to reject might relate the feminine to elsewhere, to a beyond \u2014 in fact to death, sometimes thought of as the elsewhere and the beyond \u2014 to the a ^ e of Daedalus, to violent blades, to prisons and to graves. A n d this Daedalus wi l l exceed Irigaray's labyrinth and Bellessi's conceiving Woman. This is because Daedalus relates this feminine self-identity and its lips to something else without the feminine having entirely been disavowed. (Again, note that Daedalus, a male god, is etymologically linked to female genitalia; and \"lapiz,\" the Spanish word for pencil, comes from lapis or stone.) This exemplary feminine would still be itself, but on the condition that it become the very grave in which something other than itself is entombed. To use a word alluded to in Bellessi's poem, this singular feminine would be itself only because it is itself the \"vault\" (\"boveda\" [58]) of an-other, the altar to another other (i.e. it is an altar to the alter). Listen. Listen to the violence that in-spires Bellessi's feminine eroic lips: \"Pinza y bisturf \/ Picana \/ E l cuerpo abajo \/ confesando \/ la trampa \/ U n a mancha de sangre \/ sobre el marmol \/ . . . \/ Trocadas \/ imagen y palabra\" (\"Pincers and scalpel \/ Goad \/ The body down \/ confessing \/ the trap \/ A blood stain \/ on the marble \/ . . . \/ Exchanged \/ 112 are image and word,\" 58). \"Pinza\" also means clothes peg, pin, tweezers or forceps, and \"picana\" also signifies \"cattle prod.\" Bellessi tells us how the poet's eroic lips speak, or rather how \"she\" writes (or organ-izes) \"her\" poem. She tells us this by using images of torture instruments, referring to a writing desk or to the writer's page as a marble table stained by blood. Elaine Scarry writes of another table, a torture table: \"In Braz i l there were forms of torture called 'the mad dentist' and 'the operating table' \" (Scarry, 1985, 42). I am not sure I hear loving words from Bellessi's feminine lips or in her language. I might be listening to something entirely other than the description of a poet's laboring over her poetic conception. This conception is a body on an anatomic (re)table, a body in pain. Listen. Listen to the other voice that in-spires and at the same time spirits Bellessi's poem away from itself. Listen to this poem's ghcest, to its ghosts and its own disappeared that haunt i t . You might even discern an agonizing shout, a dreadful howl, someone else's animal cry covered by music, covered by Bellessi's eroic poem itself: \"electrica pesada \/ y voz \/ en hilo fino \/ tejiendo el sortilegio \/ sangrante rock 'nd roll \/ Llorar es \/ llorar\" (\"stodgy electrics \/ and voice \/ in fine thread \/ weaving the spell \/ bleeding rock 'nd roll \/ To cry is \/ to cry\" [57]). Music was frequently used by torturers in Argentina to veil their vict im's cries of pain or to prevent them from being heard. Music is here another of the covers Bellessi likes to weave. Her poem itself, which considers its self (that is, its poetic matter), is such a cover thrown over something else; keeping silent, keeping a secret. Behaving like the torturer's music, the poem is a cover-up: it disappears and transfers something out of sight. Like all of Bellessi's fabrics, paper sheets, tapestries, shadows, veils, masks and so on, the poem is a cover, not of maternal love and solace, but for (of) violence. In a sense, it is noche y niebla, night and fog, \"Intempesta Nocte\" (deep darkness, late at night, as the section of the book in which the poems belongs is called). Feitlowitz reminds us that the terms desaparecido and trasladado (transferred) are figurative inventions of the Argentinian military, inspired by \"Nazi rhetoric . . . N N refers to noche y niebla, Spanish for Nacht und Nebel, or night and fog.\" Feitlowitz further comments: In Argentina the infernal mist of Nacht und Nebel was ushered in by the unprecedented, obscurant usage of a single word: desaparecido. It was coined by the Argentine military as a way of denying the kidnap, torture, and murder of thousands of citizens . . . Officially . . . [t]he explanation was at once totally vague and resoundingly final. Night and fog drawn like a curtain in the collective mind. (Feitlowitz, 1998, 48) 113 Bellessi's auto-contemplative poem can, then, be read as the narcissistic song of \" la cigarra [que] sigue \/ . . . como s inada\" (\"the grasshopper [which] continues \/ . . . as if it did not matter\" [56]). Here the feminine eroics of Bellessi's poetry (re)covers another meaning: it conveys the violence of exemplary self-love. Narcissistically thinking about itself, the poem hears only itself speak; it is like music disguising terror and pain. It is like a curtain drawn over the tortured and the disappeared, as if indeed the poem is a theatre of shadows. It is, in fact, striking that Bellessi chooses to express her ideas about poetic creation by speaking of the suggested poem in terms of a theatrical play or perhaps as a puppet show. She announces the poem she alludes to as i f she were herself a theatrical impresario, in other words, an organ-izer: \"Sehores y sefioras: \/ aqui hubo \/ un tumulto \/ una tormenta \/ de sangre \/ tartajeada\" (\"Gentlemen and ladies : \/ there was here \/ a turmoil \/ an upheaval \/ of stammering blood,\" 56-57). This poem becomes \"[e]l anfiteatro [que] se llena \/ de sangre\" (\"[t]he amphitheater [that] fills \/ wi th blood\" [52]). Listen to the writing of anguish. Hear this poem's own song or own ghosts. Perhaps you might hear the agonizing pain of a human while s\/he is cut, torn, beaten, savaged, burned, mutilated, transformed into the dis-articulated, dis-organ-ized body of a ragdoll. I am alarmed at the despicable, inarticulate, figureless meaning that Bellessi's so-called eroic writing instruments might have: the pincers of a \"mad dentist\" (\"pinza y bisturi\"), forceps supposedly helping, pulling out the poet's presumably poetic conception, the clothes-pegs that recall a tortured body hanging like an empty and discarded garment, a prod inscribing with fire, a surgical scalpel, a stylus of blood, amputating, excising, \"working\" on an \"operating table.\" These are glyphics and graphics in all their violence and horror. I am frightened and troubled by Bellessi's references to a lobotomized gesture-word: \"Lobotomfa \/ melancolfa \/ que traba el gesto \/ la palabra\" (\"Lobotomy \/ melancoly \/ that stammers the gesture \/ the word,\" 56). Is it the word or a body that might here be dis-organized, mutilated, and lobotomized? I shudder at the shouts of agony this poem-music wants to cover by the fact that it is speaking narcissistically of itself, or has as its own subject its own self, its poetic language. This poem-cover terrifies me, for it veils the howl of the disfigured and the tortured, who are no longer distinguishable as humans or animals, Peter or a wolf: \"Gr i t a Pedro \/ en las fauces del lobo\" (\"Peter shouts \/ at the wolf's fauces\" 114 [58]). I can only hear this poem's song as terror. I read Bellessi's allusions to \"lobotomy\" and \"lobo\" otherwise than as images suggestive of feminine, love-inspiring, eroic, poetic laboring. One could object that Bellessi is simply deploying a well known analogy of poetic pro-duction as maternal creation. I have already discussed the essentialism of a maternal, feminine poetics that recalls Irigaray's feminine lips (linked to the labyrinth and the con-ception\/creation of the universe) and proposes \"the self-identity of the feminine individual\" (Irigaray, 1989, 135). I have also argued that this maternal eroics might not be very wel-coming to women who do not define themselves in terms of reproduction or do not think of their self-identity in terms of a \"uterine symbolics\" and \"the norm of motherhood,\" to recall Jeannie Forte's precise words (Forte, 1992, 251). The point here is to illustrate that the poem and its maternal eroics imply exclusions and that these exclusions haunt both the poem and its grounding or privileged figure, the mother. These haunting displacements are constitutive of both the self-identity of the poem and the self-identity of its feminine, maternal principle. They cause poem and mother to be heard otherwise, to become other (than themselves). Lobotomy implies dismemberment and excised organs such as the cerebral lobe (\"lobo\" or \"lobulo\" in Spanish), the earlobe, and perhaps, by phonetic association between \"lobo,\" \"labia\" and \"lips\", the extraction of the tongue and the destruction of language \u2014 that is, the inability of the tortured v ic t im to articulate. Language is inscribed as angustia: it is an animal cry of anguish and pain. I read \"Pedro\" (who screams) as a monumental name, as \"una piedra.\" \"Peter\" comes from the Greek petra meaning literally stone or rock. Pedro is a stone-name, a petrifying\/ied name like any disappeared's name inscribed on a tombstone, on an altar, buried under and kept silent by this poem like a missing person, like anyone vanished forever in a torture chamber, a prison, a grave or a vault. Pedro is an-other other whose name is spoken in\/ through the silence of the poem. This stone-name summons up in one word the significations of Daedalus, lapis (and Idpiz), death, the sepulcher, the cold prison, the marble-like writing desk or operating\/torture table, the cavernous and atrocious death dungeon. It is a name evoking graphics and glyphics, the sculptural and the scriptural, hy(i)lography as a writing of anguish. It is 115 the name of a horrifying ragdoll or of a mutilated statue, of a ghost haunting this poem and its Woman, making them other. It is the name of ruins, of dead-alive fragments, of grave-stones and of remains that wi l l always torment Bellessi's exemplary feminine eroics. It is also the name of the disappeared phantasms, the violence and destruction that wi l l spook away any dictatorial exemplarism and persecute it incessantly and with no relief. Peter is the rock that rocks the ground, that ungrounds and scares away any such fascist exemplarism: the stony eyes of the dead and the disfigured. It is the name of the terror and pain and anguish that come, heavy as the burden of an impossible rock, to crash upon the violence of al l fascism. It comes in the form of Argentina's haunting history and past, of tombs being opened or discovered, of camps, in the form of a photo of a missing person, as a piece of the beloved's torn dress or hair, as entire families being bereft of their daughters, sons, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, or partners, as entire families laid waste and left bare like Argentina's empty and desolate cities, like any people, any city in ruins, like \"Buenos Aires . . . [que] se define asi por ausencias. Ausencias y distancias . . . cada habitante de la ciudad la sintio rodeada de la nada, signada por una originaria nada . . . Buenos Aires lejos, Buenos Aires incomunicada\" (\"Buenos Aires . . . defined by absences. Absences and distances . . . every inhabitant of the city felt her [Buenos Aires] surrounded by nothingness, sealed by an originary nothingness . . . Buenos Aires far away, Buenos Aires in solitary confinement,\" Jauregui and Penhos, 1999, 85-6) . 1 9 It is interesting that Bellessi's discourse on poetic creation, inattentive to the violence in-spiring its eroics, uses the word \"golfo,\" literally \"gulf.\" The word \"inattentive\" here (and other such words used below) alludes to a deconstructive or \"methodological\" point, ac-cording to which a discourse is always unable to think of its other, its own self-delimitation. A discourse is unaware of its own self-impossibility. In this specific case the violent images of the poetic creation described by Bellessi's poem are in-spired by an-other violence the self-reflexive poem cannot consider. (Recall that deconstruction always attempts to pro-duce what Derrida calls a discourse's unheard-of, or unthought-of other.) Bellessi's poem refers to a: \"Punetazo \/ contra piano \/ abovedado \/ . . . del golfo se desoye \/ A l mar\" (\"Punch \/ against [a] vaulted plain \/ . . . \/ is ignored from the gulf \/ To the sea\" [58]). The image is evocative of a blow, a vault, perhaps of burial grounds or mass graves. Bellessi's 116 \"golfo\" is an intriguing word. The entire image of a punch against the wall might denote a writer's frustration with the process of writing or organ-izing her poetic matter! But keep-ing in mind the word \"golfo,\" I see it as repeating the (hy(i)lo-)graphic or glyphic effects which the name Peter has in Bellessi's poem. \"Golfo\" is related to the Greek kolpos, a word signifying the \"feminine.\" Kolpos, from which \"golfo\" derives, means bosom, fold, gulf, matrix, belly, cavity, vagina. B y this etymological connection, \"golfo\" is also a relative to kolaphos, which is a slap or a blow to the face, reminiscent indeed of Bellessi's allusion to a \"punch.\" \"Golfo\" is further associated with: a) the Greek kalamos, which is a reed, a cane, a pen; b) glyphein, from which glyptics comes and which means to sculpt, carve, engrave, write; c) glossa, which is tongue, language or langue; and d) the Spanish \"golpe,\" which is a blow, but more importantly is commonly used in Spanish to refer to a coup d' etat: a mil i tary coup is called a \"golpe mil i tar .\" Again , what \"is ignored\" by Bellessi's poem, or what the poem inadvertently writes through this \"feminine golfo,\" blow, grave, vagina or vault, might sound now more like a feminine exemplarism, or the \"golpe mil i tar\" of the unique and all-encompassing feminine being, itself being overthrown. I am reminded here of Derrida's \"writing\" as a remedy-poison difference, as pharmakon. Derrida tells us that \"pharmakon means coup . . . so that pharmakon wi l l have meant: . . . an armed enforcement of order [un coup de force] . . . a shot fired [un coup tire] . . . a planned overthrow [un coup monte]v (Derrida, 1981, 170). In this context Derrida recalls the god of coups, \"Theuth who invented writing . . . the calendar . . . the calendar trick [le coup du calendrier] ... the unexpected dramatic effect [le coup de theatre] . . . the writing trick [le coup de V ecriture] ... the dice throw [le coup de des] ... two in one blow [le coup double] ... kolaphos ... glyph ... colpus ... coup . . . glyph . . . scalpel . . . scalp\" (Derrida, 1981, 170). Might not Theuth be Daedalus? Daedalus's name is also related to other Greek words for poison, decoy, trap, bewitchment. Daedalus, the god of graphics and glyphics, the god of the pen and of the a?^e, comes more handy in my context, in threatening Argentina's poli t ical \"golpes\" or Bellessi's exemplary feminine Al ter i ty that wants to impl ic i t ly disfigure its others. (\"Feminine Al ter i ty\" is understood here to be a category of identity. It is identity that excludes and disfigures its other(s).) Daedalus is a blow to the blows of al l exemplarism. It is the overthrow of any exemplarism, the turmoil 117 (\"tulmuto\") or \"upheaval\" (\"tormenta\") \u2014 to use Bellessi's words. The trick of this radical sledgehammer (a^fce), of this punch against the violence of the unique is this: the coup monte, the overthrow, happens when the One is so narcissistically bemused by itself that it believes itself to be alone, to be a unique Other that has turned a deaf ear to its others (see Bellessi's \"se desoye\"). The sledgehammer of Daedalus strikes when the exemplary Other in its auto-contemplation believes that it has managed to efface and disappear its others. Significantly, \"golpe\" in Spanish means also a type of sledgehammer like a labrys or an axe. Daedalus's coup is the unexpected \"dramatic effect\" of the ragdoll: it is le coup de theatre, for the exclusive Other becomes the ghcest or the puppet, those that it vanishes and disfigures. Indeed, Bellessi's verses might not be announcing the articulation of a feminine eroics, but this unanticipated coup de theatre: \"Gentlemen and Ladies: \/ there was here \/ a turmoil \/ an upheaval \/ of stammering blood\" (56-57). Let us listen carefully to this poem. Although Bellessi wants us to hear its eroic voice, I hear it instead as something else. The poem is a ghcest. I say this to insinuate the self-effacement of the poem and Woman (\"who\" is the poem's in-spiring exemplary figure). I say this while associating effects of self-haunting, self-disappearance, and self-disfigurement, or self-inscription with historical experiences, events, moments and locales that recall, but also haunt, fascist regimes and dictatorial exemplarism. This is how I understand the poem and Woman as ghcest(s). In one sense, the word ghcest here has a relationship with the English guest \u2014 as well as other words such as ghost and host. Bellessi's poem experiences itself inadvertently as a \"guest r o o m . \" 2 0 These last two words allude, for me, to the lexicon of terror used in dictatorial Greece. During the mil i tary junta in Greece the torture room was called a \"guest room\" (Scarry, 1985, 40) . 2 1 The poem writes itself as torture (see its agonizing broken words, language or stammer of terror), as the anguish and agony of those it excludes. One can even say that the poem and the category \"Woman\" become the dance of the puppet, or the ragdoll, the dance of those they implic i t ly disappear, dis-articulate, dis-figure, and veil like a cover of music, a feminine, tissue or maternal body, like Nacht und Nebel, night and fog, \"intempesta nocte\". (The lesbian body is also one of those bodies disappeared by Bellessi's \"Woman.\") In fact, this dance is reminiscent of a type of torture in Argentina that was named \"the dance.\" Scarry writes that torture draws from various \"cultural events, ceremonies and games.\" Apar t from \"the dance\" in Argentina there is . . . \"the birthday party\" in the Phillipines, and \"hors d' oeuvres,\" and \"tea party\" and \"tea party with toast\" in Greece. Though the primary act of eating or moving, along with all primary acts of the body, will at some point be brought into the torture process, 118 it is naturally not the acts of eating or moving themselves, but the self-consciously civilized elaborations of these acts, the dinner party or the dance, that the torturer's words reach out for. (Scarry, 1985, 44) M y use of ghcest implies that in my reading this eroic poem and its exemplary figure of \"Woman\" are the hosts-crypts of their own shadows and ghosts: that is, of the unnamed and the unmarked, the unidentified, the utterly missing, those they excise from their paradigmatic space. Poem and Woman are a disappearance: they can be themselves, only as being other than themselves, as missing, as los desaparecidos that have disappeared from Bellessi's eroic poetry. They can be themselves only by recalling in their self-identity the tortured and disfigured bodies of the other that the sexual difference, the exemplary feminine or maternal Other, excludes, excises, defaces, en-graves, censors. They can be themselves only as totally lost and never to be found, as the other disappeared, for the other is the ghcest, that which never appears to be reclaimed and possessed: it is the disappeared par excellence. Bellessi's exemplary poem and Woman are the missing whose body never turns up either dead or alive. As Feitlowitz tells us, a \"desaparecido was someone who was 'absent forever . . . was neither l iving nor dead, neither here nor there\" (Feitlowitz, 1998, 49). This recalls Derrida's differance: el desaparecido is always deferred, not yet there but elsewhere. Bellessi's poem and Woman are the unheimlich ghasst(s): they are inhabited and haunted by that which they implic i t ly displace to such a degree that they become the vanished, the tortured and the displaced. They are the trauma they inflict, or what Nancy calls the \"exhausted body.\" They become \"the deported, massacred, tortured bodies, exterminated by the millions, piled up in charnel houses . . . These bodies are no longer bodies: spiritualized into smoke, as an exact reversal to those who evaporate into spirit . . . The body is but a wound\" (Nancy, 1994a, 22). These bodies are any-one's body and no-one's body. These bodies are any-bodies and no-bodies: they are the utterly deformed, figureless and vanished. There is in this poem a verse that describes poetic writing, or feminine conception as a photographic act: \"foto \/ apresando el acto\" (\"A photograph \/ seizing the act\" [57]). I read these verses also otherwise: a) either as being evocative of the photograph of an Argentinian Mother's missing relative, a picture of a desaparecido like those displayed by 119 las Madres de la Plaza de Mayo in Argentina; or b) a photograph seizing another violent scene, silenced by this poem's \"act\" of self-reflection, namely, the act of a \"body \/ . . . on the marble\" (58) of torture. Bellessi's poem and its Woman are \"feet that dance by themselves:\" they return to them-selves by being lifted off their feet, by escaping from themselves, by moving away from themselves to elsewhere. To borrow once more from one of Argentina's effects of fascist exemplarism and terror, one can say that Bellessi's eroics and its feminine subject suffer upon themselves the other other that their exemplarity loses sight of, elides, censors and transports elsewhere. They become trasladados, transferred out of themselves or out of sight. The term trasladado to describe this relationship is almost a synonym for desapare-cido, and was often used in Argentina to refer to the missing. Ci t ing the actual testimony of an Argentinian ex-prisoner during the mili tary dictatorship in Argentina, Feitlowitz gives the following definition of un trasladado: \"Trasladar (v. [sic] to transfer, to move). To take prisoners away to be kil led. Traslado\/a [sic] (n. transfer). Trasladado\/a (... one who had been transferred, one who was a transfer, one who had 'got his ticket ') . ' Y o u quickly' learned that you were in the pit for only a l imited period of time . . . Then, transfer\" (Feitlowitz, 1998, 52). Having read Bellessi's poem on poetic language as experiencing itself as something else or elsewhere (the poem as becoming a\"guest room\"), I now see this relation of the poem to itself as a relation of self-disappearance or self-transfer. This ghatstly effect of otherness and difference is not to be conflated with any particular other. This effect of alterity or structure of self-difference is more radical and originary than Bellessi's essentialist female Other and sexual difference. It is also beyond, and anterior to the category of \"the disappeared,\" \"the transferred,\" \"the tortured,\" the v ic t im of polit ical exemplarism in general. It is only a tactical maneuver to evoke the poli t ical experience of el desaparecido and el trasladado. Let us say that if in an opposite scenario political difference were the exemplary category here, excluding the feminine, I would have chosen a name for its deconstructive im-possibility that would have strategically alluded to such a poli t ical difference's excluded other, namely the feminine or sexual difference. Beyond the opposites of poli t ical difference and sexual difference, el traslado \"names\" a more originary difference and an-other impossible other 120 as a lifting off the ground or off the feet, as a sliding off, the continuous taking off from self by which a self is possible. El desaparecido or el trasladado is the gh<\u00a3st. It is (a) figureless and impossible other by which sexual difference (and all essentialist and unique categories of the Other and of difference, whether they are determined as \"the feminine,\" \"Woman,\" (m)Other, \"the po-l i t ica l ,\" \"the disappeared,\" \"the v ic t im\" and so on) grounds itself through what it vanishes and transfers somewhere else and out of sight. El traslado names the originary alterity as the effect by which an essentialist Other relates to itself: any exclusive essence, in order to be unique and come back to itself, tends to transport away and disappear its others, those precisely that are a threat to its oneness, exemplarity and wholeness. This is true for any exemplary regime, for any hierarchical imposition, and any system of the One and the exclusive. It is true whether one speaks here of One Other that \"turns a deaf ear\" to its others or of a repressive, mil i tary regime based on a singular person or dictator, a hegemonic class, an encompassing people, an imperialist country or a population. Any-thing unique can only reappropriate itself because it has always been threatened by what it excludes, tortures, detains, transfers elsewhere, expels, eradicates, disappears, assassinates, removes out of sight, disfigures, and even transforms into a mere shadow, a figure of death. Consequently, anything unique is, from the start, un trasladado, a transferred out of itself: it is from the start a disappeared. From the start one(self) is not one(self): one(self) begins as disappearance, and as transfer outside of, and elsewhere from one(self). One has always already gotten one's ticket \u2014 to remember Feitlowitz's traslado. What I am striving to express with el desaparecido and el trasladado is what Derrida might have called the structure of expropriation whereby by being oneself one is expropriated or loses oneself: \"one comes back to oneself, recognizes oneself, outside oneself in oneself\" (Derrida, 1982b, 25). El traslado is hetaerography, a detour within oneself; it is the not-yet of oneself. 121 \/ Ghaest or I am the Other's Mouth: Ventriloquism Ventriloquism [is] literally the act of appearing to speak from the abdomen or belly, . . . for . . . the voice proceeds from a locus other than the organs of speech. Elizabeth Harvey22 The body . . . is hollow . . . The entire body is a mouth. Michel de Certeau23 The question of the organ as it is mani-pulated by Bellessi in this particular poem deserves further attention. In one sense, organ here can be read as another word for instrument or puppet. It might be the tortured body hanging l imp in the hands of author-ity or of exemplarism: the severed body of the ventriloquized ragdoll controlled by the master (or so s\/he thinks), the plaything in the hands of the torturer. But in fact, the organ is the very trauma, dis-figurement or dis-articulation of mastery by which the master is instead the voiceless organ or the deformed slave. The master is \"the feet that dance by themselves\" and the mouthpiece of a figureless other, its animal cries, its shouts of pain., its pleadings for mercy, its incomprehensible speech, its language of anguish. The master or author (and as we have seen, Bellessi's own poem), is her\/himself the organ of another organ, the puppet of the puppet. Her\/his authoritarian voice comes out as other than itself and ventriloquized. Her\/his voice says something other than itself. The master's voice is possible only as the inarticulate angustia of the other. I have already suggested this, by reading Bellessi's poem as well as its \"Woman\" as covers (the torturer's music, the \"guest room,\" the \"operating table,\" the \"dance,\" the night and fog) unable to speak of and about themselves without speaking simultaneously wi th \/of the anguish of their other. Poem and \"Woman\" are the ventriloquized organs, the wordless \"words\" of their other. Derrida tells us that the organ is a \"place of loss because its center always has the form of an orifice. The organ always functions as an embouchure\" (Derrida, 1978d, 186). I want to read this embouchure in conjunction with what I have said so far concerning Bellessi's poem and its auto-contemplative \"grasshopper song\" that \"continues \/ . . . as if . . . [nothing else] matter[ed]\" (56). Bellessi's poem is an organ such as the one described by Derrida. Both the poem and its exemplary figure \"Woman\" are a wind 122 instrument, an embouchure. Poem and Woman are a hollow larynx or a ghccstly funnel from which, both ventriloquized and double, they leak out from thesmelves and reverberate as sepulchral. Poem and Woman pour out from themselves, the one hollow like the botomless throat of a grasshopper (the vocalizing organ) and the Other like an empty vagina or womb (the conceptual organ). They are both unable to vocalize and conceive themselves in (ph)allocentric auto-insemination. In the same poem Bellessi uses the word \"fauces.\" This is a Lat in word that signifies \"throat\" or \"gullet.\" In English the word is used in the plural (\"fauces\") and means: \"the passage leading from the back of the mouth into the pharynx.\" (Webster, 1988, 494). Etymologically, \"fauces\" is related to pharynx, the \"alimentary canal leading from the mouth and nasal passages to the larynx and esophagus.\" (Webster, 1988, 1012). In Greek pharynx is \"the opening of esophagus and larynx,\" and is connected to the words pharanx, charadra and varathron, meaning, respectively, gorge, ravine, and abyss. Pharynx is also used as a synonym for larynx, the organ of voice, and is further related to pharos or plough. Pharos has other significations. Its etymological roots are found in uphainein or weaving, and plekein or knit t ing. Pharos means piece of cloth, cloth, textile, coat, shroud, etc., and links pharynx to weaving (Dormbarakis, 1995, 857). Through these etymological connections, \"fauces,\" a relative of pharynx, evokes once more Bellessi's so-called \"feminine\" theme of textiles and eroic poetry as feminine writing-weaving. Bellessi's orifices, funnels or tubes, bir th, alimentary or vocal canals and so on, might also recall a writing stylus, a weaving or speaking instrument, images of phonetic, or reproductive or even acoustic organs, in which the poetic ear, for example, like a womb is in-spired, understood as impregnated, by logos's \"thought and semen\" (Ronnell, 1989, 416). Bellessi might even want to suggest the problematic phallologocentric image of a poet in the process of conceiving or birthing her in-spiration as if she were receiving logos's breath. In this phallologocentric tradition, \"God's breath . . . [was] actually imagined as proceeding through a tube . . . [In] a relief-representation of the Anunciat ion . . . the Heavenly Father is blowing along a tube that extends from his lips to the Virgin 's ear, and down which the infant Jesus is descending\" (Ronnell, 1989, 416). Another phallologocentric myth has Woman be the receptacle or mouthpiece of logos, reproducing the word just as 123 in Bellessi's feminine version of an in-spired poet Woman produces organgrams or words from her organs and the fabric of her body: \"Voice or language appears to emerge from her [Woman's] body in a process analogous to birth; the woman is impregnated or filled wi th voice (as, in the Christ ian tradition, Mary becomes the receptacle of the Word); she produces what issues from her belly\" (Harvey, 1992, 94). I read both poem and female poet as some type of abyssal tubes (pharynx is varathron, abyss). Their own voice becomes a hollow and haunted voice, their own language is a container for another language. They are themselves the grave, the \"golfo,\" the crypt in which something other than themselves is surrepticiously immured, alive: \"[t]he crypt is . . . the ego [that] comes to contain and keep alive within itself the 'cadaver' of the other\" (Deutscher, 1998, 164). They are themselves the pharos, the cover (textile), the shroud that contains both the other and themselves as others. They re-sound cavernously like a \"guest room,\" an underground prison or cell, becoming the (g)host of another, the voiceless \"voice\" of the other; they are altered into the disfigured and inarticulate \"voice\" of those they refuse to hear, of those they censor, veil or vanish into graves that cover their \"bodies,\" choke their \"voice\" under silent dust, earth or print, blackness, \"intempesta nocte.\" It is uncanny that the first verses of Bellessi's poem speak of a poetic \"I\" that is coming out or appearing in a \"vaulted\" world which is, in turn, thrown over this poetic subject as if to bury it alive. (Indeed, it can be said that Argentina \u2014 and Lat in Amer ica in general \u2014 is not a country but the world as nothing but graves.) This self, this subject is being vaulted, disappeared: \"Salgo \/ E l mundo se aboveda \/ en pianos vastos \/ echado sobre m i \" (\"I am coming out \/ The world is being vaulted \/ under vast plains \/ [and is] thrown over me\" [56]). These lines have also the meaning that the world transforms itself into a vault, a grave on top of vast plains. This self appears by being vanished, by becoming its missing (other). To come back to what I claimed earlier, this poem is an eroic one that says nothing of the disappeared, the tortured, the dead, etc., who are the excluded other in relation to Bellessi's (ph)allocentric feminine eroics and her exemplary Woman. This poem remains silent about this excluded other. This particular poem speaks only about poetic articulation, or about itself. But at the moment it does so, it becomes itself articulated as disfigured and dis-124 organized language, as agony and terror; speaking in relation to itself it becomes its other. It \"ignores\" or \"turns a deaf ear\" to its other (see: \"desoye\") in order to narcissistically, exemplarily and exclusively hear-only-itself-speak, and at that very moment it is in-spired by its figureless ghosts, by an-other voice, and is spirited away (soufflee) from itself. Of course, with the ghcestly pun between \"in-spire\" and \"spirit away\" I am playing here with Derrida's la parole soufflee, while giving Derrida's spirits the twist of the ghcest, of the disappeared, the transferred, the disfigured. Derrida writes that \"consciousness in general is not knowing at the moment when, and in the place where, I proffer my speech\" (Derrida, 1978d, 176). One can say something analogous about Bellessi's poem and its language of anguish. Bellessi's poem is ghcested, \"[sjpirited [soufflee]: at the same time let us understand inspired by an other voice\" (Derrida, 1978d, 176). Derrida might call this process \"expropriation\": something is by being stolen away from itself. But keeping in mind my context, I wi l l call it disappearance, ventriloquism, transferral, disfigurement, and above all the angustia of language, as the language of the ghcest, or the figureless other. In certain respects, this is the trauma of the a ? t e , related this t ime to speech and to language. In accordance with the Levinasian and Derridean hyperethics of language that I elaborated in the first chapter, this is a traumatic language rooted in the anguish of the other from which all speech, and above al l , the language of the master and the master language originate. What I mean by this is that all essentialist writ ing called feminine, maternal, or weaving, and all existing languages, whether called Spanish or English, feminine or masculine, eroic or heroic, and so on, are preceded by a more originary tongue that is \"stammering blood\" \u2014 to use Bellessi's verses adjusted to my context. All languages are spoken in response and responsibility to the other's pain, to the other's language as inarticulate agony. In this sense, we are all ventriloquized. We are the mouth of the ghosts that hollow out our speech, the mouth of the ghcest or the other. In every single instance when we open our mouths to speak, we do nothing but stammer the blood of the other. The traumatic language I am speaking of is no longer a language but stammering, pure susceptibility and pain. We speak \"swallowed, unspoken word[s], not choked back, not retracted, but swallowed in the stolen instant of being spoken . . . This voice is not language, and what is more, 125 this voice remains without vocabulary, without vocalization and without vocalics\" (Nancy, 1994a, 27). To Receive the Figureless Ghaest or To Commune the G-host Why do children like eating things shaped like persons or animals? Do we desire to eat the statue as well as look at it? Kenneth Gross24 Open your mouth and receive the host of the wounded word. Vicente Huidobro25 We speak a swallowed \"language,\" we stammer blood. In fact, the language we speak is not one and not ours. It is never exemplarily One and belongs always to the wounded other, to the disfigured, or rather, to the unrecognizable ghcest. Bellessi writes that her poetic matter is \"deliciosa materia \/ organica,\" or \"delicious, \/ organic matter\" (57). I am struck by these verses composed of, and alluding to, bloody and delicious organ-words. The word organ itself suggests appetite. Organ is related to the Greek orexis as appetite as well as to orgasm. It is also a distant relative to ergon, meaning work, artistic work, and to ergaleion, the Greek word for instrument and weaving loom. What interests me here, however, is that organ implies an appetite for the other that st i l l remains, in this poetry, unidentified, unknown and missing, and thus, truly indigestible. I say \"indigestible\" because the other or the figureless ghcest is impossible and inappropriable. The ghcest (other) always resists assimilation or cannibalization; it resists our knowledge of her \/h im\/ i t : Not having been taken back inside the self, digested, assimilated . . . the dead object remains like a living dead abscessed in a specific spot in the ego. It has its place, just like a crypt in a cemetery or temple, surrounded by walls and all the rest. The dead object is incorporated in this crypt \u2014 the term \"incorporated\" signaling, precisely that one has failed to digest or assimilate it totally, so that it remains there, forming a pocket in the mourning body. The incorporated dead, which one has not really managed to take upon oneself, continues to lodge there like something other and to ventrilocate through the \"living.\" The living dead . . . is the one who is enclosed in the crypt. (Derrida, 1985, 57-8) The other other (the ghcest) is a total stranger towards which this poetry and its exemplary female Other strive or which unbeknownst to them inhabits them from within: \"the dead person continues to inhabit me [poem and Woman], but as a stranger\" (Derrida, 1985, 58). 126 The ghcest missing from this poetry and its Woman prohibits them also from closing exemplarily upon themselves. It can be argued that their appetite to swallow the other, to eat the statue as well as the ghcest, manifests itself as an endless anxiety, indeed as a torment, or as Bellessi might say, \"una tormenta\" of stammering blood. Orexis or appetite, from which organ derives, is even a desire for food . . . [and] one has passed to the desire strained toward satisfaction, accomplishment, completude, the reconstitution of a totality, restoration . . . The ope^i<; \\orexis\\ is strained. OpeyeaOat [oregesthai] is to strain . . . to strive toward .. ., to await . . . to be strained . . . streben ... [I]t is the movement of return toward the lost place, the suffering of vdaroq [nostos] a \"nostalgia\" of\/for being. (Derrida, 1993b, 191) The way I understand Bellessi's appetites or torments is as an expression of the originary traumatic event, that both poem and Woman have always been themselves incomplete, disfigured and missing (precisely like those they cause to vanish), so that they long for, strain, strive towards self-restoration. This fact has a tremendous impact on all author-ity and exemplarism. Despite what might be the common assumption, al l exemplary beings, all powerful and masterful beings, are exclusive because they are terror-stricken and panicked at the sight of having always been themselves victims, the unidentified or the missing, the disappeared. What I mean by this is that exemplarism and mastery are after-effects, results or consequences, a nostalgic reaction to the fact that they are first themselves vanished or impossible, powerless, incomplete, disfigured, a wound: \"For contrary to what one is often most tempted to believe, the master is nothing\" for \"he does not have exclusive possession of anything\" (Derrida, 1998a, 23), and he cannot have power over anyone or anything. The other would always be el desaparecido, el trasladado, the figureless that wi l l always escape the \"master.\" Note here that \"e\/ desaparecido, el trasladado, the figureless other\" refer to structural conditions by which mastery is possible and not to real people (although they allude minimal ly and strategically to the category of the disappeared). In this respect, recall my double or hetceronymic usage of terms analogous to Derrida's employment of writ ing as archi-writing, difference as differance, hymen, pharmakon, etc. Furthermore, \"mastery and violence are vanished\" must not be understood as implying that violent acts do not exist or are not committed against people. The above sentence must be understood on the one hand as a) recognizing the existence of real violence exercised upon real people; 127 and b) on the other hand as a consequence of the fact that all supremacy is an unnatural or ungrounded act, is originally disappeared or other than itself. Supremacy is (like) its other, disfigured. \"To receive the figureless ghcest\" describes a relationship of hospitality in which Bellessi's poem and Woman are hosts to their other, and where the host or the master are other than themselves. This relationship implies: a) to leave ourselves open and absolutely exposed to the wound of being other than our ravenous, expansionist self, and other than an eroic hand disfiguring and delivering blows; b) to receive, that is welcome, the other in ourselves, but without converting this reception into an assimilation of alterity. The ghcest must remain in us as sti l l missing, un trasladado, and unrecogizable, \"undigested like Jonah to the whale\" (Deutscher, 1998, 165). The disappeared ghcest has its place in ourselves, as in a crypt or grave in a cemetery or temple. Capucha As soon as I enter into a relation with the other, with the gaze, look, request, love, command or call of the other, I know that I can respond only by sacrificing ethics, that is, by sacrificing whatever obliges me to also respond, in the same way, in the same instant, to all the others. I offer a gift of death, I betray, I don't need to raise my knife over my son on Mount Moriah for that. Day and night, at every instant, on all the Mount Moriahs of this world, I am doing that, raising my knife over what I love and must love, over those to whom I owe absolute fidelity, incommensurably. Jacques Derr ida 2 6 Loyalty and betrayal wi l l close this already extensive chapter. Capucha is another ramifi-cation of Bellessi's exemplarism that I want to discuss. The word, as I mentioned earlier, means \"hood\" or \"cowl,\" and it was worn either by collaborators with the fascist regime of Argentina or by its victims, often by those prisoners that were transferred away to be kil led. Capucha, therefore, is an ambivalent term implying both the executioner and the vic t im, the traitor and the betrayed. In a sense, Bellessi's eroic poems, and certainly their exemplary face of \"Woman,\" or the 128 category of \"the feminine\" in general, are such cowls. This is not because some of their \"themes,\" or \"Woman\" as theme, are portrayed as covers, masks, fabrics, etc. It is because their exemplarity acts as a cover-up for something else. Indeed, an exemplary Other (\"Woman\") and a singular difference (\"Sexual Difference\") are what this poetry affirms, and such an affirmation causes female alterity and sexual difference to become treacherous to those they exclude, that is, to Argentina's missing and to poli t ical difference. One could mention countless others such exemplary Al ter i ty betrays, including the lesbian or homosexuality, man, animal, child, the non-human, and so on: \"There are also others, an infinite number of them, the innumerable generality of others to whom I should be bound by the same responsibility\" (Derrida, 1995b, 68). But identifying who is this exemplary Alter i ty 's betrayed other is not quite my point. In fact, one of my points is that the other is always the unidentified or the disappeared. M y main argument is this: on the one hand, Bellessi's eroics is love given to One Other (Mother, Woman) and to One Difference (sexual). To another other Bellessi's eroics raises not a loving hand but a hand that holds a violent and disfiguring knife. Bellessi's eroics is faithful to Woman, to One Alteri ty, but treacherous to an other. It can be said that in this case Woman betrays otherness. It is as if \"she\" wore the capucha of betrayal, for \"she\" assumes the very position of the traitor or the collaborator with the fascist regime: Woman disappears her other(s); \"she\" transfers them out of sight (or so \"she\" thinks). On the other hand, Woman is an Other. \"She\" is an Al ter i ty that betrays another alterity in order to remain faithful to, and salvage, her own Otherness. But is it then also the case that Woman becomes \"herself\" the betrayed? \"She\" becomes treacherous to alterity in general and this means that \"she\" also becomes treacherous to her own alterity. In this case, therefore, \"she\" wears the hood of the v ic t im. In \"herself,\" Woman is simultaneously both faithful to her own alterity but also disloyal to it. In \"her\" own unique face \"she\" is both the traitor and the betrayed at once. On her own face \"she\" wears a mask of death: \"she\" wears at the same time the capucha of the informant or executioner and the cowl of the v ic t im. Bellessi is loyal to One Other by betraying alterity, by excluding other others (and by extension, excluding even Woman). In this sense, her eroics is a gift of love and death 129 to the other, any other (the wholly other). Bu t , do we not all offer the other a gift of love which is also a gift of death? Do we not all constantly attempt to deliver an Other by betraying other others? Have we not all on one or more occasions worn a capucha of death? Wearing the (hyperethical) mask of eroics and death that simultaneously betrays and saves is, perhaps, our only aporetic way of defending anyone at al l . This is how my own discourse has been dis-loyal to \"Woman.\" In the same sense my analysis is also dis-loyal to \"women\" as another monolithic or homogenizing category \"of analysis . . . that . . . assumes an ahistorical, universal unity among women based on a generalized notion of their subordination\" (Mohanty, 1994, 207). (The term \"women\" \u2014 that evokes real referents and an authentic, coherent and invariably white community of \"we women\" as \"sisters in struggle\" \u2014 is also problematic. See Mohanty's critique of this term in \"Under Western Eyes\" [1994].) To a certain extent the paradox of the capucha implies my betrayal of Bellessi by critiquing her essentialist stance and also my loyalty to its feminist motivation centered around the \"subject\" or the category of \"Woman.\" I have simultaneously deconstructed and been faithful to \"Woman\" (or to the homogenizing term \"women\"), for as Butler suggests: the category of women does not become useless through deconstruction, but becomes one whose uses are no longer reified as \"referents,\" and which stand a chance of being opened up, indeed, of coming to signify in ways that none of us can predict in advance. Surely, it must be possible both to use the term, and also to subject the term to a critique which interrogates the exclusionary operations and differential power-relations that construct and delimit feminist invocations of \"women.\" This is . . . the critique of something useful, the critique of something we cannot do without. Indeed, I would argue that it is a critique without which feminism loses its democratizing potential through refusing to engage \u2014 take stock of, and become transformed by \u2014 the exclusions which put it into play. (Butler, 1993, 29; my emphasis) I am writing these final lines in fear and trembling, in stammering blood: a \"madness, a certain 'madness' must keep a lookout over every step, and finally watch over, thinking\" (Derrida, 1995c, 363). A 'madness' which is pure agony and suffering must be vigilant over our, and any, thinking or discourse on the other. The hyperethical aporia I have expressed with the capucha writes nothing but a maddening moment, the moment of the anguish of the other in the cowl, of any other this chapter might have disappeared and transported 130 out of its sight as if in a truck going early at dawn to an unknown destination. These final lines are haunted by the ghcest in capucha (i.e. those I have excluded). These lines are the stony eyes behind all of this chapter's own capuchas and behind all of its covers, thrown over, \"vaulting\" and censoring countless others: I am sacrificing and betraying at every moment all . . . the other others whom I know or don't know, the billions of my fellows (without mentioning the animals that are even more other than others than my fellows), my fellows who are dying of starvation or sickness. I betray my fidelity or my obligations to other citizens, to those who don't speak my language and to whom I neither speak nor respond, to each of those who listen or read, and to whom I neither respond nor address myself in the proper manner, that is in a singular manner . . . thus also to those I love in private, my own, my family, my sons, each of whom is the only son I sacrifice to the other, every one being sacrificed to every one else in this land of Moriah that is our habitat every second of every day. (Derrida, 1995b, 69). This chapter was my way of writing \"madness,\" my own eroics of stammering blood. Given to all those disappeared. Notes 1. Butler, 1992, 16. 2. From now on when the word \"Woman\" is capitalized it refers to the essentialist category of \"Woman\" under deconstruction. When the same word appears in smaller case or as \"woman,\" it alludes to a non-essentialist, excessive (hyperfeminist) alterity. This is analogous to the distinction between the word \"Other\" and \"other\" established in the first chapter. 3. Boisacq, 1923, 161 and 174, respectively. 4. Derrida, 1982a, xvii-xviii; my emphasis. 5. Kofman on Freud's \"pubic hair.\" 1985, 48-9. 6. Borges, 1964, 139. Translated from the original by J.E.I. From now on, all translations of Spanish texts, including Bellessi's, are mine unless indicated otherwise. 7. Alardo, 1976, 118. 8. The connection of Dasdalus with writing or inscription comes from Dormbarakis. The Greek philologist tells us that the verb dedallo, which derived from Dasdalus, is related to delta and \"deltos, nameplate, 131 board for writing, document, writing instrument, paper, letter.\" From deltos come deltarion, deltion, deltoomai, to write on boards, and deltographos: \"he who writes on slates or on boards\" (Dormbarakis, 1995, 210). On deltos Boisacq writes: ddXros [daltos] f. 'tablette pour ecrire': gr. SaiSdXXui [dtedallo] skr. ddlati 'crever, eclater' lat. dold 'facpnner' etc. . . . V . norr. tiald 'tente, pavilion, tapis, rideau' v.b.a. all. mod. zelt 'couverture deployee, tente'lit. delnav. slav. dlani 'paume de la main' (cf. s.v. SoXuii\/ [dolon] 'petit hunier'), que Fick l.cit. groupe en outre avec SeXro<; (sous une meme R. del 'fendre'), supposent plutot un i.-e. *dela- 'etendre, deployer; surface etendue, deployee'; Se'Xros aurait eu des lors le sens premier de 'surface deployee';... (Boisacq, 1923, 174) 9. These lines are characterized by great syntactical and grammatical complexity to the point that their translation into English becomes an extremely difficult task. The verb \"tienta\" could be: a) present tense, indicative mood and third person singular; b) imperative mood, second person singular, in which case it describes a command given by the implicit poet. In \"la textura en sombra\" the preposition \"en\" conveys interiority or that the texture is inside\/under shadow. I am very grateful to Isaac Rubio for kindly sharing with me these (and other) nuances of Bellessi's text. 10. I have dealt with this aspect in \"Stuffing the Other: Tropes of Incorporation in Coco Fusco's and Nao Bustamante's Stuff,'1 (2001). 11. I have explored this aspect of Bellessi's poetry in rather essentialist terms (which I now find problematic) in \"Somatograffas o el patos de Ecce Soma en dos episodios y un epitafio\" (2000). 12. Contrary to Baring's and Cashford's wishful thinking, this is an uncertain and perhaps popular etymology of Mary's name. It appears that Maria comes into Latin from Greek, which gets it from the Hebrew \"Miriam\" or \"Miryam.\" The association of Maria with \"mare\" is tenuous. For this correction on Baring's and Cashford's erroneous excavations of Mary's name, I am grateful to Derek Carr who kindly pointed it out to me. 13. In Glas, Derrida writes of prosthesis: The graft that sews itself..., the substitution of the supplementary seing \"constitutes\"... Its necessary heterogeneity, its interminable network of listening lines en alio... \"Prosthesis.. . n. 1. Surgical term. The part of surgical therapy whose object is to replace with an artificial preparation an organ that has been removed in whole or in part . . . 2. Among the Greeks, altar of prosthesis, a small altar where everything necessary for the holy sacrifice is prepared.\" Littre in the body. (Derrida, 1986a, 118-9) 132 14. De Man on Kleist's marionettes, 1984, 287-90. 15. This is an extract from Martinez's La pasion Segun Trelew (Martinez, 1997, 23-7). 16. Jean-Luc Nancy, 1994a, 28-9. 17. I emphasize the word \"without\" to denote the aporetic character of this observation. 18: Bellessi writes: \"Musculo tendon \/ torsion del hueso \/ sagrado \/ omoplato tendon \/ femur \/ pelvis antebrazo \/ Expulsion de sangre \/ .. . \/ dentellada de la muerte \/ que come el cuerpo \/ contorsion \/ . .. \/ palpitar de tetas \/ . . . \/ Terror de golpe \/ que invade el hueso \/ Hombro \/ antebrazo \/ brazo \/ falange \/ . . . \/ Cara . . . \/ agita . . . \/ la danza del bailarm mayor: el grupo \/ de danzantes\" (\"Muscle tendon \/ the sacred bone's \/ torsion \/ shoulder blade \/ femur \/ pelvis forearm \/ Explusion of blood \/ . . . \/ death's bite \/ that eats the body \/ contorsion \/ . . . \/ the nipple's throbbing \/ . . . the terror of blow \/ that invades the bone \/ Shoulder \/ forearm \/ arm \/ phalange \/ . .. \/ Face . . . \/ disturbs . . . \/ the dance of the older dancer: the group \/ of dancers\" [25-27]). 19. I have retained the feminine \"her\" of the Spanish original to refer to Buenos Aires, as well as translated \"incomunicado\" (also \"cut off from communication\") as \"in solitary confinement,\" deliberately. 20. This \"contradictory\" observation refers to my \"methodological\" approach: the self-reflexive poem affirms its self-identity while asserting something other than itself. 21. Scarry further comments that in the Philippines torture rooms were called \"safe houses:\" [T]he torture rooms are often given names that acknowledge and give attention to the generous, civilizing impulse normally present in the human shelter. They call attention to this impulse only as prelude to announcing its annihilation. The torture room is not just the setting in which the torture occurs; it is not just the space the happens to house the various instruments used for beating and burning and producing electric shock. It is itself literally converted into another weapon, into an agent of pain. All aspects of the basic structure \u2014 walls, ceiling, windows, doors \u2014 undergo this conversion. Basques tortured by the Spanish describe \"el cerrojo,\" the rapid and repeated bolting and unbolting of the door in order to keep them at all times in immediate anticipation of further torture, as one of the most terrifying and damaging acts. (Scarry, 1985, 40). 22. Harvey, 1992, 93. 23. De Certeau, 1985, 108. 24. Gross, 1992, 37. 25. Huidobro, translated by Cecilia Vicuna, 1992, 25. 26. Derrida, 1995b, 68. 133 Chapter III The Dead aend or the Im-passable (Other): Reading Poems From Soledad Farina's Albricia Overview [I]n some contexts... [the term \"queer\"] has marked a predominantly white movement that has not fully addressed the way in which \"queer\" plays \u2014 or fails to play \u2014 within non-white communities; and whereas in some instances it has mobilized a lesbian activism, in others the term represents a false unity of women and men . . . The political deconstruction of \"queer\" ought . . . to extend its range, to make us consider at what expense and for what purposes the terms are used, and through what relations of power such categories have been wrought. Some recent race theory has underscored the use of \"race\" in the service of \"racism,\" and proposed a politically informed inquiry into the process of racialization, the formation of race . . . The point may be taken for queer studies as well, such that \"queering\" might signal an inquiry into . . . the formation of homosexualities (a historical inquiry which cannot take the stability of the term for granted, despite the political pressure to do so) . .. Judith Butler1 [H]eterosexuality and homosexuality are only given the meaning they are within this current structure, which divides the human race sexually into two. Drucilla Cornell2 Come [ Viens] beyond being \u2014 this comes from beyond being and calls beyond being . . . \"Come\" cannot come from a voice or least from a tone signifying \"I\" or \"self,\" a so-and-so (male or female) in my \"determination\" . . . \"Come\" . . . is a drift . . . underivable from the identity of a determination. \"Come\" is only derivable, absolutely derivable, but only from the other, from nothing that may be an origin or a verifiable, decidable, presentable, appropriable identity . . . Jacques Derrida3 In this chapter I wi l l read the Chilean Soledad Farina's Albricia, a collection of \"Lesbian\" poetry published in 1988. As was the case with Diana Bellessi, there is lit t le information available about Soledad Farina, a poet who also belongs to the new generation that emerged 134 as a challenge to the traditional Lat in American literary canon. Albricia is Farina's second book (the first being El primer libro or The First Book, published in 1985), focusing on questions of (homo-)sexuality, erotic desire, voice or orality and the body, and image and word. Farina is interested in oral language and image \u2014 a theme she also explores through video art \u2014 linked to the issue of sexuality and in particular of lesbianism, in contrast to Bellessi, who is more concerned with the question of (feminine) writ ing and sexual differ-ence. One might say that Bellessi's poetry focuses on graphic expression, while Farina's poems emphasize oral expression centered around the lesbian body. Albricia contains 23 short poems, from which I wi l l read only three that condense Farina's constant preoccu-pation with orality, the poetic word and sexuality. I wi l l also analyze a short citation from one of Gabriela Mistral 's poems that is included in Farina's book. I wi l l do so because Mis t ra l \u2014 a Chilean crypto-lesbian and a Nobel-prize winning poet belonging to the tra-ditional literary canon \u2014 seems to have influenced Farina's poetry immensely and played an important role in the literary context that gave rise to Farina's book. I am interested in this poetic\/lesbian relationship or claimed partnership between these two poets and their work, and wi l l devote part of my discussion to its dynamic as established through Farina's text. The focus on this \"partnership\" underscores my reading of motifs that are constant in Albricia, such as orality and lesbianism, homoerotic love, poetic or linguistic production as sexual production, word, rhythm, etc. The relationship between Mis t ra l and Farina and their texts also forms the basis for my deconstruction of the essentialist category of the Lesbian proposed by Farina's poetic discourse and its themes, and permits me to con-ceptualize an excessive lesbianism based on the figure of Mis t ra l (or Mistral 's lesbianism), that haunts Farina's book. I want now to refer to the first citation introducing this chapter, taken from Judi th Butler 's essay entitled \"Cri t ica l ly Queer.\" The quotation is chosen because it imparts words of caution, cri t ical wisdom and vigilance over terms and categories, and even over analytical paradigms (examples) that one might have taken for granted. To be \"critically queer\" is to reconsider and even challenge the stability of our ontological grounds, analytical terms and exclusive examples. To use Butler 's words and prudent advice, this chapter embarks on the \"polit ical deconstruction of the queer\" as a universal example that, at least in 135 the Chilean Soledad Farifia's poetic context, fails to address questions of alterity and of difference that cannot be encompassed by the unique, and in my view l imited, category of sexuality. Sexuality here \u2014 whether it is understood as heterosexuality or homosexuality \u2014 is in itself an inadequate concept or term. M y critique, like Butler 's , is directed against the inadequacies of this concept as established by Farina's essentialist discourse, not against any real gay, heterosexual, bisexual, etc., people} I am deconstructing categories, discourses and systems of representation, such as Farifia's text that uses these categories or ontological terms in order to encompass or identify the Other in terms of sexuality. Ultimately, my discussion expresses our failure to know or represent the lesbian, or the other. In order to differentiate between an identifiable and thus encompassable Other (Lesbian) and a subversive, indeterminate and thus non-appropriable other (\"lesbian\") I have taken the following measures. When the terms \"Lesbian\" or \"Other\" appear capitalized, I am referring to, and am critical of, essentialist concepts of Lesbianism and Otherness. When \"lesbian\" and \"other\" are uncapitalized and usually in quotation marks, I am referring to a radical \"lesbianism\" \"as\" difference, impossible to arrest, represent and determine conceptually, or in any sense. This radical \"hyperlesbianism\" wi l l imply the destabilization of, all self-identical concepts, including the concept of heterosexuality, or difference and alterity inscribed within them. A l l the structures of an im-passable otherness proposed here wi l l be equally at odds with any form of sexual identity or sexuality determined ontologically as such and privileged over all others. Just as the effects of alterity and difference in the previous chapter moved beyond the example of the female, or maternal heterosexual\/sexist Other, beyond dichotomous sexual or poli t ical difference, the differential effects analyzed in the present chapter exceed and are the very disorder of all examples of sexuality without exception. The effects that I connect to \"im-passability\" relate not only to Soledad Farifia's text, which is grounded in the ontological category of the Lesbian Other, but to any other text which privileges a category such as man, father, woman, mother, heterosexual, etc. Here I wi l l summarize the basic argument of this chapter, drawing attention to two key-words used above, namely without exception. The \"im-passable other\" wi l l be discussed here as the impossibility of homo-sexuality and of an appropriable Other identified as the 136 category Lesbian. But I want to make it clear that the im-passable other \"represents\" equally the impossibility of all sexuality as a category or, any unique, essentialized and assimilable Other, without exception. The im-passable other \"is situated\" beyond examples, beyond unitary and ontological concepts, and beyond exceptions. The word \"beyond\" here signals excess, the hyperfeminist gesture that demands a reconsideration of our own blind spots, our own ontological grounds as feminists. It demands what Judi th Butler might understand as being \"critically queer\" or what Druci l la Cornell theorizes as the incalculable feminine that \"cannot appeal to what exists, to some core of female being, but must instead evoke what cannot exist under our current conceptualizations . . . through the masculine ideal\" (Cornell , 1993, 7). The word \"beyond\" is the excess of this masculine ideal, whether such an ideal manifests itself overtly as phallocracy or disguises itself as (reversed) \"feminist\" or hetero\/homosexist (ph)allocentrism (essentialism, exemplarism) privileging One Other identified as Woman, Mother or Lesbian. It is, in fact, the masculine ideal \u2014 and not \"our own feminine con-ceptualizations\" as some want to believe \u2014 that supplies this \"feminist\" (ph)allocentrism of Feminine or Lesbian exemplarity or specificity. It is phallocracy's and heterosexual-ity's imagery, its ideals and even its own version of recognized and normalized Otherness that cause homosexuality or the Other to exist as someone or something (for example as Lesbian), be any one thing, or to have certain attributes. Consider, for instance, what Grosz suggests: \"[a]ll the terms for orgasm, for corporeal encounters, for sexual encounters of whatever kind are not only derived and modified from heterosexual models, but, more alarmingly, from the perspective of men . . . The very terms for sex, for pleasure, for de-sire \u2014 'fucking,' 'screwing,' 'coming, ' 'orgasm,' etc. \u2014 are most appropriate for and are derived from men's experiences of sexuality (both their own and that of women)\" (Grosz, 1995, 220). Just as recognition of \"race\" can, in Butler 's view, be used in the service of racism, so too homosexuality, and in particular Lesbianism, embody an Other that can exist only under current conceptualizations and in relation to a masculine, heterosex-ual\/sexist ideal. Consequently this Other is no longer an other; it is a heterosexist \"male fantasy\" \u2014 to use Grosz's words \u2014 or a phallic satellite at the service of phallocracy and compulsive\/compulsory heterosexuality, giving a hand to the same violent structures that 137 effect its exclusions. A n y Other that can exist, be recognized or conceptualized as such within the already existing parameters of these exclusionary structures (i.e. wi thin any existing structures) runs the risk of losing \"her\" alterity and of being assimilated by these structures. Al ter i ty (and difference) must remain impossible or im-passable as anything definable according to the parameters and paradigms (examples) offered by such violent structures. In this chapter I evoke a hyperfeminist, hyperlesbian other that cannot yet pass, or be identified as anything or anyone at al l . This other is not yet, or is a hyperalterity that is always an excess, a \"beyond,\" in two senses: a) this hyperlesbian oversteps all de-term-inations that tend to assimilate a lesbian alterity; b) it is the excessive and transgressive condition by which al l self-identical concepts are possible (passable\/identifiable) because they are first impossible (impassable\/unidentifiable); they are their own overrun. In the case of Farina's text we shall soon see that this \"beyond\" or not yet is \"death\" (not in literal terms, but as an impasse itself, as the loss of one's own self). Farifia's text conveys both the essentialist category of the Lesbian and its cancellation, or impossibility which I call here the \"hyperlesbian.\" To paraphrase Cornell , we must evoke a lesbian that is not (exemplarily) One, that cannot exist within our current conceptualizations, that is beyond a masculine-heterosexist ideal and, most of al l , is the very impasse, blockage, aporia or overrun of all violent, exclusionary or dichotomous structures and ideals. Indeed, if we are to do any justice to the other or to the lesbian, we must refuse to fit i t \/her in anywhere. We must think of \"her\" as this beyond, as the im-passe, el paso (Spanish for passage or step) of \"death\" where \"she\" still remains unpresentable and unanticipated. The hyphenated word \"im-passe\" (to be discussed in more detail shortly) is a synonym for the term aporia. It conveys the undecidable meanings of aporia as passage and non-passage, tresspassing, overstepping, which are implici t in the etymology of the word and which Derrida has described in Aporias. Paso alludes to the French pas, both as negative and as step, and by extension repeats the hyphenated play of im-passe. The hyperlesbian that I consider here is such an im-passe, excess, aporia, indeterminacy, over(step) \u2014 the over denotes \"her\" again as something excessive that transgresses and overwhelms all term-inology that seeks to identify \"her,\" and all conceptual \"boundaries\" that seek to restrict 138 or restrain \"her\" alterity. This \"hyperlesbian\" remains unaffirmed and unpredictable exactly like our own self-impos-sibility or ontological death: we never know when \"she\"\/it is coming; like a stranger \"she\"\/it comes and takes us by surprise. This is a ghcest whose arrival we await, dread and long for, because \"she\"\/it signals the end of our identity and all selfhood. I construct such an unanticipated, deferred, but also imminent \"lesbian\" and \"death\" as figures of self-impossibility by relating them to Derrida's messianism. Messianism (to be explained in more depth later) is a structural condition like that of differance indicating that something is coming beyond presence or by being always postponed, unable to close in upon itself. The hyperlesbian I propose is a hetaerographic alterity (or a kind of differance), a messianic figure of the always hetasrogeneous and the not yet: \"The messianic figure is a litt le terrifying and unnerving . . . [T]he coming of the Other also fills us wi th dread. We do not want what we want . . . [because it is] something I-know-not what\" (Caputo, 1997a, 145). Beyond a determined category\/identity called \"Lesbian\" this messiah-other is an unknown ghcest that we cannot domesticate into any of our vocabularies, concepts or discourses that promote masculine or feminine, homosexual or heterosexual\/sexist ideals. If we are to do any justice to the lesbian we must open ourselves to welcoming \"her\" as an absolute and unrecognizable other, as tout autre. This tout autre is also the suspension of our own appropriating self and this self's ideals. \"She\" is our \"death,\" the impasse of our selfsame. To welcome therefore such a hyperlesbian is to welcome our self-mortification, our death. This is a sort of welcoming that is a little uneasy about what is to come, a little spooked. For welcoming is unnerving. Welcoming is really welcoming when it welcomes the \"stranger,\" when it does so truly, without falling back into a \"domestic hospitality\" which tries to force the stranger to conform to domestic standards and remain within the closed communal circle of the same. Welcoming must practice an \"absolute hospitality,\" welcoming the stranger without preconditions. That is a movement fraught with anxiety, since it involves the operation of taking into one's home the unheimlich, the one who is not part of the home, the stranger, and that is the source of considerable apprehension and anxiety, involving a very uncanny operation. (Caputo, 1997a, 145) 139 \"Methodological\" Notes and Strategic Inventions of Impasse Anxiety and anguish wi l l not cease to torment the present chapter. Later, I shall write of justice as perpetual crisis and unease. This study must at al l times and at any cost refuse to put an end to this torment \u2014 and even work consciously against such an end \u2014 if it wants to be crit ical of any ontological principles, conceptual \"boundaries\" or terms, including those that might form the ontological ground of the present study, its own vocabulary, its own tendencies to become a home where the \"stranger\" other might somehow be brought in and be seen as a part of it. This discussion cannot pretend to be at ease with itself, or pass over its own violences in silence. This point was made in the last chapter: I am speaking of my own complicity with all the violent discourses of exemplarity which I critique, whether they are developed under a masculine or a feminine symbolic, within phallologocentrism or (ph)allocentrism and whether the Other is exemplified as Woman-Mother or as Lesbian, etc. There are no neutral, innocent or non-violent discourses or language. In fact, one always begins within a violent system, its language, its phallocratic conceptualizations or its (ph)allocentric variation, and by doing so one perpetuates it. Bu t , as Derrida writes: The violence, political or otherwise, at work in academic discussions or in intellectual discus-sion generally, must be acknowledged. In saying this I am not advocating that such violence be unleashed or simply accepted. I am above all asking that we try to recognize and analyze it as best we can in its various forms: obvious or disguised, institutional or individual, literal or metaphoric, candid or hypocritical, in good or guilty conscience. And if, as I believe, violence remains in fact (almost) ineradicable, its analysis and the most refined, ingenious account of its conditions will be the least violent gestures, perhaps even nonviolent, and in any case those which contribute most to transforming the legal-ethical-political rules: in the university and outside the university. (Derrida, 1988, 112) Derrida's observation remarks on an aporetic way of challenging and even undoing vio-lence from within a violent discourse. This observation also impl ic i t ly repeats deconstruc-tion's constant engagement with the double bind (see \"Introduction\" of the present study), whereby \"[t]he movements of deconstruction do not destroy structures from the outside. They are not possible and effective, nor can they take accurate aim, except by inhabit-ing those structures. Inhabiting them in a certain way, because one always inhabits and all the more when one does not suspect i t\" (Derrida, 1976, 24). This is to say that my own crit ical discourse on Soledad Farina's exclusionary Lesbian exemplarism is necessar-140 i ly complicit , to a certain extent, with Farina's essentialism and all its propositions of a Lesbian onto-theology, including all the exclusions such propositions imply with regards to the Lesbian's displaced others. In other words, my discourse is complicit wi th Farina's discursive violence towards those others that Farina's affirmation of a Lesbian being, her recognition of a unique Other determined as Lesbian, leaves out, barring the passage or spelling out an im-passe. (Although some of those others that are displaced by Farina's unitary category of the Lesbian are other lesbians \u2014 such as Gabriela Mis t ra l , for instance \u2014 or other undecidable sexualities, the point I wi l l try to make is other than identifying who is the excluded other from Farina's discourse. I am not interested in the identity of these prohibited others, but rather in the impossibility of positing them in any sense. I am also concerned with the idea that not only does a unique and exclusive determination effect prohibitions and impasses upon its other, but that such prohibitions and displacements are constitutive of that determination.) To return to the discussion of discursive complicity, we shall see that all discourses, includ-ing both Farina's and my own, can only be sustainable on the condition that they maintain within themselves their own impossibility or their own im-passe. Although complicit with Farina's discourse, I shall inhabit it \" m a certain way.\" Borrowing from Farina's text, and from her text its own de-limit-ation, I shall call this impasse valva or valve. For the moment I wi l l briefly say that valve, which is an alterity more originary than Farina's essentialist Lesbian Other, has hyperethical and hyper-feminist\/lesbian aspects. Like deconstruction it affirms: it says yes, yes to the as yet unidentifiable other that is impossible to domesticate and enclose within the \"borders\" of the same. Valve is like a door opening within a violent discourse and releasing it to its others. It is a welcom-ing secret passage that lets something different from Farina's exclusionary and selfsame Lesbian come in . Valve, a strange word, a figure of the stranger, a ghcest, a \"source of con-siderable apprehension and anxiety,\" lets in the violence of exemplarity, its own threat of self-deconstruction, its own risk of self-delimitation, of ceasing to be violent. In an aporetic fashion, valve is the end (\"death\") of all selfsameness and exemplarism, the stoppage and prohibition or im-passe of all violent discourses. This means of impassibility embedded within an exclusionary discourse (and which such a discourse cannot think, since it cannot think its own impossibility) is the only way to interrupt such a discourse or such an econ-omy of exemplarity. This is also the only way of intervening effectively in this violent field of displacements: namely, by producing an alterity unthinkable by that field, which can no 141 longer become part of this field's domestic vocabulary, whether this vocabulary promotes a masculine or a feminine or a heterosexist ideal. As Patrick suggests: If one cannot utter a single deconstructive proposition without drawing upon the meta-physical reserve, neither is intervention in ethics and politics possible without recourse to ethico-political codes, governing reality. But deconstruction . . . intervenes . .. And if this intervention has a political dimension it is because in the deconstruction of the political or-thodoxy one is also engaged \"in a writing\" (or if you prefer, in the future production) of a language and of a political practice that can no longer be comprehended, judged, deciphered by these codes. (Patrick, 1997, 127) Engaging in the production of a future new language and a radical poli t ical praxis, in this chapter I seek to mobilize a hyperfeminist intervention, deconstructing the exemplarity of Farina's Lesbian Other re-presented as an all-encompassing and violent self. This inter-vention implies the deconstruction of an exemplary and exclusive term \u2014 as it appears in Farina's poetry \u2014 and not the deconstruction of real lesbians. In fact, it is nonsensical for one to claim that one is engaging in a deconstruction of real lesbians or real people. As Butler argues: \"To deconstruct is not to negate or to dismiss, but to call into question and, perhaps most importantly, to open up a term . . . to a reusage or redeployment that previously has not been authorized\" (Butler, 1992, 15). This hyperfeminist gesture, cor-responds to the idea of keeping a term while putting it under the a^te or under erasure, or the aporetic meanings of the Derridean without. With and beyond the term Lesbian (that is, beyond one Other defined exclusively in terms of sexuality), this chapter proposes a hyperlesbianism or a lesbianism with-out lesbianism, a queerness that is not negated but rather is opened up to its others. This \"queerness\" is always deferred and thus impossible to constrain to any category, \"boundary\" or term. Here my \"methodology\" borrows from and conforms to Farifia's textual structures. A l -though this \"methodology\" is in general terms similar to the one applied in my reading of Bellessi's poetry, it is also different in the sense that it makes use of distinctive traits derived from Farina's text. The fact that my deconstructive strategy wi l l conserve the name \"lesbian\" and recall a \"lesbian\" vocabulary conveys my reluctance to disavow the term \"lesbian\" in and of itself. Indeed, I find any such attempt suspicious. For me it is as violent to negate the category \"lesbian\" (that is, to exclude it) as it is problematic to affirm 142 this category's exemplarity above all others (that is, to make it the exclusionary agent). As, Ronell writes: \"negated otherness is what Hegel called the enemy\" (Ronell, 1992, 74) in order to affirm another sovereign subject. Or, as Derrida might say in different words the negated other is \"the negative side . . . the reassuring other surface of the positive\" (Derrida, 1978c, 259) subject or essence. Consequently, the terms borrowed from Farina's text underscore this fact: that I refuse to dismiss even what this text proposes essentially to be a Lesbian specificity. Something analogous could be argued in regard to terms that I transform into differential structures of Lesbian im-passability or im-possibility, which are drawn from a \"queer\" vocabulary or a specifically Hispanic context. This is why, for example, I use the familiar (to gay studies) word \"closet,\" to give it an unfamiliar twist denoting a Lesbian im-passability as self-encryption. There are a number of influential essays written on this term, and Butler 's \"Imitation and Gender Insubordination\" (Butler, 1991) contains one of the most compelling deconstructive critiques of this category, which I shall come back to. However, none of these essays uses the word \"closet\" as it is employed here. Playing with Derridean notions of the cryptic, the secret, the non-passage, I wi l l take issue with this repressive and negative concept and simultaneously open it up to entirely different significations, which make the closet become the unrepresentable, as yet undeclared or unrecognizable other; an other that we do not yet know as being anyone or anything at al l . I think of the \"closet\" as hetaeronymically communicating with the familiar category of the closet without being it. Here, one is reminded again of Derrida's paleonymic usage of \"writing\" or even of concepts such as the secret, the messiah and so on, derived from a certain Jewish tradition while exceeding what is properly Jewish. The same could be argued for my usage of the term closet, drawn from what is a presumably properly gay experience while moving beyond it, and expanded to include and deconstruct al l exemplary categories of self, regardless of whether this self posits itself exemplarily as queer, heterosexual, lesbian, human, woman, man, etc. The closet, for instance, would even be the encryption of the category of heterosexuality. The closet is an impossible invention, an invention of impossibility or encryption of any exemplary category or self. In this sense, I use the closet as the cryptogram of something 143 else: namely, a structure of difference, or an effect of alterity. From the Hispanic context of queer specificity, I borrow the double question $Entiendes?, which I also transform here into a codeword for something other than Farifia's Lesbian Other, an effect of alterity as self-withdrawal. ^Entiendes? is literally two different ques-tions expressed at once. It means both \"Do you understand?\" and \"Are you queer?\". $Entiendes? is used as a cryptic question among \"Spanish-speaking lesbians and gays who use the term themselves (including the Communidad Gay de Madr id , who named their newsletter lEntiendes?y (Smith and Bergmann, 1995, 1). However, understood as the ci-pher of all ontological and exemplary determination, this double and undecidable question is the not-yet of a self; it is indeterminacy itself and therefore it exceeds the Hispanic con-text from which it was derived, just as it does not quite fit into what is properly identified as denoting Spanish-speaking lesbians and gays or the Gay Community of Madr id . Similarly, the concept of impasse is on the one hand influenced mostly by Derrida's recent work on death and aporias of non-passage or conditions of self-impossibility, and Levinas's ethical notions of radical passivity as the suffering of the loss of self. In Levinas's thinking, this passivity moves beyond the exemplarity of oneself and means: \"the I's suffering for the other [which] is at one and the same moment the I's suffering and the suffering of another's suffering\" (Cohen, 1994, 294). Radical passivity is the not yet of all selfhood. O n the other hand, this particular relation of a self to alterity (i.e. the self-as-being-other-than-itself or suffering-itself-as-other), which I am calling im-passe or radical passivity alludes to what Farina's text essentially constructs as Lesbian passion referring to a ho-moerotic encounter. However, this radical passivity cannot be conflated or identified wi th homoerotic passion. I am attempting here both a connection with, and an overcoming of, Farina's essentialist or exemplary Lesbianism and its homoerotic passion, at least as they are both manifested in the poems to be discussed. This double strategy (or bifocal writing), that plays simultaneously with sexual passion and ethico-philosophical notions of passivity, provides the opportunity to l ink Farifia's (ph)allocentric category of sexuality (and of Lesbianism) with its other: namely, with (hyper)ethical passivity and suffering. Because in Farina's poetry sexual questions are privileged and given priority over other issues, I try to link Farina's sexual preoccupations with what they displace, that is, with 144 ethical issues. (This is analogous to what I attempted in the second chapter by haunting Bellessi's maternal, heterosexual\/sexist eroics and sexual difference with its other, that is, ethico-political difference.) In a similar fashion, I use the word \"come\" in a sexual sense, to allude to what is portrayed by Farina's text as a \"lesbian experience\" of orgasm. Bu t , at the same time, \"come\" becomes a hetaeronym or a hetaerographic word that expresses an other passionate moment, or event. It becomes a codeword for another type of coming, the messianic coming of an unidentifiable and incalculable other \u2014 the hyperlesbian or the ghcest \u2014 \"who\" originates in , but also exceeds, Farina's selfsame and exclusive category of the Lesbian Other. So far some effects of self-difference (such as impasse, passion, \"closet,\" \"death,\" \"come\") have been associated wi th Farina's category of homosexuality, and I try with these same effects to exceed Farina's homoerotic context, to surpass the delimitation or \"boundary\" with which some of these hetaerographic \"concepts\" communicate. These effects both recall and at the same time overcome Hispanic polit ical experiences of non-passage. This is why, in place of im-passe to convey self-impassability, I wi l l use the words no pasardn, a slogan or codeword proclaimed by forces resisting fascist regimes, including Pinochet's in Chile. Employed both in its plural form as no pasardn and in the singular as no pasard, this phrase becomes the cryptogram or hetasrogram of something else: it represents the impossibility of all exemplarism of a dominant One. No pasardn is another name for what I described above as radical passivity or as passion. I use it in the following hetaerographic sense: the exemplary self suffers upon itself the exclusions, the non-passage, death and prohibition it inflicts on its others in order to be the unique one. To use Ronell 's words in a different sense, no pasardn is \"the ethical scream that interrupts a discourse\" (Ronnell, 1994, 285) of exemplarity: a password-scream, the dead-end or impasse that blocks or puts an end to exemplarism's passage and interrupts its violence. Consequently, like other structures in this study, impasse, no pasardn and their derivatives, recall the traumatic, the a^fee as the \"impossibility\" (the \"ungroundness\") of any violence that precedes and presupposes any exclusive, masterful and singular being. The phrase \"impossibility of violence\" describes what Derrida in \"Force of Law\" designates as \"violence without ground\" or as structurally deconstructible (Derrida, 1990, 943). B y speaking of such an originary impossibili ty of 145 violence I am not trying to deny that violence exists, or that it is not everywhere in this world we live in . I am rather arguing in favor of something more radical. This no pasard or impossibility is what comes before violence as its structural condition (of possibility). A l l exclusions, hegemony and mastery are after-effects: they ensue from the profound and anterior impotence and powerlessness of the master to exclude, violate and dominate her\/his others. A l l mastery is originally powerless (radically passive, impassable, or self-deconstructible). The play of the traumatic is also expressed as endurance or end. These are codewords I have derived from one of the most significant lines of a poem by Farina that wi l l be discussed below. I have constructed the word endurance by playing wi th the conjunction \"and,\" which occurs at the end of the poem, and the \" ' l i t t le death' of orgasm [in which] the conscious, masterful, self-identical self [is momentarily] lost\" (Waldby, 1995, 266). (Endurance is an invention that toys with: a) the uncanny diphthong se in hetaerography or the ghest, that signals an other impossible or impassable alterity; b) Levinasian notions of radical passivity, the suffering of one's own end (i.e. the loss of self as death); c) Derrida's concept of enduring one's own self-impossibility, or oneself as being an other. (Endurance is the not-yet of oneself. Bearing in mind the brief descriptions given above of my usage of these terms as terms conveying self-impasse, I now want to turn to the word valva, which is taken from Farina's text and forms the \"methodological\" basis of my reading of this text. As explained above, this word not only originates in the text, but is the cornerstone of this text's structure of i m -passibility. Farina's text is constantly organized around codes and cryptograms, a language of signs and winks of the eye. The text operates as its own im-passe, like a valve, or closet \u2014 in the special sense I have given to this last word. It speaks of Lesbianism without saying i t , names it without naming i t , announces it while evading it, presents the Lesbian while hiding her. This process resembles what Derrida calls \"putting something under erasure,\" or what I designate as the process of putting an essentialist category under the a f^ee. Speaking of Heidegger's discourse in Of Spirit, Derrida suggests that this process is a kind of \" 'avoiding' which come[s] down to saying without saying, writ ing without writing, using words without using them\" (Derrida, 1991b, 2). Koestenbaum writes of 146 homosexuality in the same terms. Homosexuality is told while untold, like a voice that speaks out while keeping an open secret: \" A t once an invisible fortress and an unhinged gate, the voice can't keep a secret, or if it can, only an open secret \u2014 D . A . Mil ler ' s term for homosexuality as what we name by not naming, know by not knowing. Like the closet, the throat must be kept open, but no one is allowed to guess, in the first place, that such a door exists\" (Koestenbaum, 1991, 212). The structure of valva is informed by one more aspect apart from the significations that I intend to convey by bringing together Derrida's \"avoiding,\" \"under erasure,\" the secret, the cryptic and Koestenbaum's \"the closet.\" This is the economy of the Lesbian's \"salvation-exception,\" played out by the valva, this structure of naming her without naming her, affirming her while not affirming her, of ciphering her. 'Farina's poetry is a (ph)allocentric, exemplary discourse aimed at recovering, that is saving, the \"Lesbian.\" But as I understand it , Farina's text safeguards the category Lesbian while also omitt ing it . It saves this category. M y play on words here takes into account the allusion to redemption in the title of Farina's book (Albricia, to be translated and discussed later in detail), relating it to Derrida's sauf le nom, meaning \"to keep safe except the name.\" It is impossible to gather here all the meanings which Derrida gives to the word sauf \u2014 a few of which I retain in valva. I wi l l only mention some of this word's significations. In its relationship to the name of God (which I replace here with the name or term \"Lesbian\"), sauf has the meaning of save and except, of keeping safe, of saving or rescuing, sacrificing or giving away the name of God in order to save it, etc. In the context of \"saving the name of God ,\" Derrida writes: A s it was necessary both to save (sauver) the name and to save everything except (fors) the name, save the name (sauf le nom), as i f i t was necessary to lose the name i n order to save what bears the name or that towards which one goes through the name. B u t to lose the name is not to attack i t , to destroy i t or wound i t . O n the contrary, to lose the name is quite s imply to respect i t : as name. T h a t is to say, to pronounce i t , . . . [t]o pronounce it wi thout pronouncing i t . T o forget it by ca l l ing i t , by recal l ing i t (to oneself), which comes down to ca l l ing or recal l ing the other . . . (Derr ida , 1995a, 58) Here, Butler 's insightful observation, that to deconstruct a term (such as \"queer\") is not to negate it or to dismiss i t , can be intersected with Derrida's idea that to lose the name is not to attack it , destroy it or wound it. It is to respect it as name, and I would even go so far as to say, that it is to love it passionately and unconditionally. Unbeknownst to Farina, her own text proposes this affirmation and loss of the name Lesbian, which expresses absolute 147 love, a, passion for the impossible, ineffable, unpresentable and non-appropriable other. This hyperlesbian desire reaches out to \"her\" (the lesbian) precisely when \"she\" is not yet there; when \"she\" remains other-ghcest, impossible to seize and possess as identity or as presence. The name \"lesbian\" remains un-pronounced as if it were fire that burns the lips, the ravenous tongue of all assimilating discourses that seek to domesticate \"her\" and essentially consume \"her.\" I have designated this love for the impossible or non-assimilable other-\"lesbian\" as hyperlesbianism. I wi l l return to this term throughout this chapter, but for the moment suffice it to say that the hyperlesbian is an-other other encrypted by, or closeted in , Farifia's own text. Farina's poetry has become the closet-crypt of an im-passable alterity, of this hyperlesbian that it itself cannot assimilate, for it cannot think of \"her,\" or is bl ind to \"her.\" Farina's poetry surrepticiously saves this hyperlesbian while excluding \"her,\" names \"her,\" without naming \"her\" and loves \"her\" without reserve, for it is a poetic discourse absolutely surrendered to \"her,\" to the other it cannot name. (In deconstructive terms the hyperlesbian is the unthought-of other or impasse that inhabits both Farina's discourse and its grounding essentialist category of the Lesbian. Farifia's poetry cannot encompass the hyperlesbian because such an alterity is nothing but this poetry's unthinkable condition of possibility; the hyperlesbian is this poetry's self-impasse or self-impossibility.) Following on all the above associations, valva is a hyperlesbian word that describes a safety valve. Valva functions as a mechanism by which all Farifia's (ph)allocentric propositions privileging the category of sexuality and the Lesbian Other are safeguarded while lost; proffered at the moment they are kept a secret; named while effaced; passed as such while not passing; uttered and aired out in the open while closeted or encrypted; said while unsaid, or spoken as something else. For this last signification I make use of one of the meanings of the Spanish volver, related to valva or valve. Volver is a synonym for tornar or \"to turn,\" signifying alteration, or mutation. Tornar is the root of the term tornadizo, a word taken from a Spanish Medieval context and associated with the terror and violence of Spain's expulsions of its religious others. In this case, in addition to being related to the poli t ical and the ethical, the privileged category of homosexuality is also opened in certain respects to the religious. Farina's Lesbian Other, which is also a category considered by this 148 text to be exemplarily the only Other discriminated against, is here, through my allusion to the tornadizo, related to other forms of discrimination and impasse, where others are persecuted not only because of their sexuality, but also because of their faith, convictions, religion, or ethnic difference. I wi l l return to this theme by countering Farina's \"white lesbianism\" with a parable of violence and persecution against a person (see Eleno's story in the section entitled \"Suspected to B e . . . \" ) who has the face of more than one difference and represents more than one other. This person was terrorized not only because of \"her\" indeterminate sexuality, but also because of \"her\" indeterminate racial, ethnic and religious identity. Just as Farina's valve denotes the un-affirmed or the crypto-lesbian, tornadizo, literally a renegade, is a word that \"referjs] to converted Jews or Musl ims\" (Roth, 1995, 3). However, it is used here as a valvic word, a cryptogram that means a process of self-alteration or encryption, in general. The way I read Farina's text, therefore, is by taking into account its own volver and tornar, understood in this way. I wi l l discuss Farina's poems by considering not only what the text might want to say (vouloir-dire) and propose (that is, an essentialist and exemplary Lesbian being), but also what this text turns out to be saying (volver-dire) without saying it, by encrypting it. In other words, I read this text's own excess and dead-end, the im-passable other, the hyperlesbian otherwise than as Farina's essentialist Lesbian Other. The pun between the French vouloir-dire, which is here altered (or turned into) volver-dire, needs further justification. Volver-dire is a combination of the Spanish volver and the French dire; volver, stemming from the Lat in volvere, is not only to turn, but also to roll up, to turn back, to return, to reflect, to change, to transform, to alter, to translate, to come to, etc. The Spanish equivalent of the French vouloir-dire is querer decir. But my Spanish-French pun volver-dire is an indirect allusion to Derrida's critique of the phonologocentric value of \"meaning to say\" as \"being-present in the form of meaning\" (Derrida, 1996, 126). More importantly, and more relevant to Farina's case, volver-dire provides an expression of \"to say\" (dire) that conserves within it its own impasse, a valve stopping it at the moment it is said. Volver-dire is a saying that turns into something else. It is as if Fariiia's discourse contained within itself a lit t le fold, a pocket, a flap that folds over it and encrypts it or 149 forbids it to be uttered. As could be predicted, valva is related also to \"vulva\" and to the male glands and is also a membranous fold, a flap, a plug and a pocket. Valva is exactly like an invaginated fold, the Derridean \"hymen [that] ' is ' between male and female\" (Cornell , 1993, 95), between masculine and feminine, homosexual and hetero-sexual, but without being one or the other and without being a metaphor that alludes to hermaphrodism, androgyny, bisexuality or polysexuality (or any biological or sexual deter-mination). We shall see later that in order to avoid confusing valva with a human male or female, organic or biological essence, I have linked it to the inorganic and the mechanical, and given it animal and plant-like traits. What is important in Derrida's hymen 5 and likewise in the word valva is the signification of the in-between. Valva is both (in-between) this and that category and is n-either this n-or that category (or categories in the plural). It is not monosexual or plurisexual and cannot be identified wi th one sex\/uality or with multiple sex\/ualities. It is not an identity at all but the impossibility or undecidability of all identities whether they are sexual or not. As it functions in Farifia's text, valva is the impasse or the not-yet Lesbian Other. (But valva would also be the not yet of man, of the human, the animal, the heterosexual or bisexual woman, etc.) The English valve, incidentally containing both the letters of the ligature 35, graphically illustrates this fold of indeterminacy, the not-yet of One identifiable Other which I described in the \"Introduction\" to the present study and in accounting for hetaerography's diphthong ae. The \"Context\" of Soledad Farifia's Albricia Home is the place where progeny is secured. One does not think immediately of Borges when tracing the nationalist lineage of Latin American writing, but he has become, ironically, its most eccentric guardian. Perhaps Latin America today is, above all, a community of nations gathered under the enabling coherence of a shared house of letters. Writers such as Fuentes and Vargas Llosa have become its most prestigious ambassadors, and many believe that these last hundred years since Martf's found-ing, propitious night of exile are indeed one hundred years of casta soledad, of chaste solitude, governed by the ruling madness of a hidden father tied to the firm trunk of an enormous, labyrinthine genealogical tree. Ultimately, Borges' literary library is not qualitatively differ-ent from Garcia Marquez's tree in Macondo, because they are both homeward bound. One 150 is at home within the family of successive, echoing generations, whereas the other is at home within the family of successive echoing metaphors. But writing outside the domus, exiled from the domus, is also writing outside progeny and insemination. It is writing against the ruling authority of domestication. It becomes a kind of productivity without the domestic responsibility of reproductivity . . . It is writing outside the preconceived lineage of fathers and sons. Ruben Rios A v i l a 6 In 1992, one of the most important recent literary figures in Chile , Jaime Collyer, began a polemic about \"generational independence\" in Chilean letters with an article published in the journal Apsi, entitled \"Casus bell i : todo el poder para nosotros\" (\"Casus belli : A l l Power To Us\") . Merino comments on this article: \" E n el texto, hacia [Collyer] un gesto de autoafirmacion que era a la vez un grito \u2014 un poco impostado, casi humoristico \u2014 de independencia generacional. Los nuevos autores, segun proponfa Collyer, ya estaban en condiciones de suscribir su autonomia literaria sin solicitar permiso de los mayores\" (\"In the text [Collyer] made a gesture of auto-affirmation that was at the same time a cry \u2014 a bit imposing, almost humorous \u2014 of generational independence. According to what Collyer proposed, the new writers were already in a position to subscribe to their own literary autonomy without asking permission from their elders [in the sense of forefathers]; Merino, 1998, 692). 7 As was true in Argentinian letters (and in the case of new writers such as Diana Bellessi, who emerged indeed as a \"cry\" of generational auto-affirmation against the so-called over-politicized poetry of the forefathers), in Chile the \"new\" literary generation also arose in defiance of an \"old\" and \"stagnant\" literature with a membership card in the Communist Party. These very strongly assertive and accusative words from Collyer seem to be directed against one of Chile's most influential, canonical poets and Party patriarchs, Pablo Neruda. Al lud ing to the tyranny of both Pinochet and the Party, Collyer writes: \"We are fed up with tyrannies. We did not get r id of the Party membership card some time ago in order to come now to pay homage and court those frightened by tradition.\" (Here Collyer complains explici t ly about literary critics. I have changed the order of his words: \"No nos desembarazamos hace tiempo del carne del Partido para venir ahora a rendir culto y pleitesfa a los atemorizados de la tradicion . . . estamos hartos de tiranias.\" Ci ted by 151 Merino, 1998, 692.) In the previous chapter on Bellessi's work, I already expressed my skepticism about this type of accusation, whether it comes from partisans of heroic tradition (the previous l i t -erary canon) or from its dissidents (the new generation of eroics). I wi l l not repeat that critique here, although it wi l l impl ic i t ly underlie my reading of Farina's Albricia. The book appeared in 1988, four years before Collyer's polemical manifesto of \"generational inde-pendence.\" So far, there is nothing written on Farifia's work. In passing, the Chilean critic Roberto Merino in his article \"Microclimas culturales\" (1998) includes Albricia with the poetry that emerged after the advent of democracy in Chile , referring to it as \"a work of intimacy in a language that is not easily audible straight away\" (\"un trabajo int imista con un lenguaje no audible de buenas a primeras;\" Merino, 1998, 692). Could it be that this non-audible language attests to what I have called the \"closet,\" the valvic im-possibility of speaking \"straight away\"? I think that is the case, but I wi l l postpone for now the justification of my answer. As was the case in Bellessi's poetry (and as is also true with most intimist poetry), Farina's work appears to show absolutely no interest in social or poli t ical issues, affirming thus its literary autonomy from its forefathers, the poet-patriarchs and Party partisans. The genre adopted by Farina (and other writers of her generation) indicates that these poets no longer consider themselves as part of a larger social or historical reality, whereas unti l recently poets such as Pablo Neruda or Cesar Vallejo viewed themselves as representing the voice of the \"oppressed people.\" Dealing with the \"personal,\" the voice of new poets such as Farina does not represent the so-called masses, but rather their own subjectivity or selfhood (sex\/uality, gender, body, desire, etc.). In my view, this is a reason why many of these writers st i l l remain unknown and have been very quickly and problematically dismissed as elitist and self-centered. This is a view I do not share, finding it extremely discriminating against the new poetry (and its own demands). However, I wi l l attack this view not by taking sides and affirming the superiority of one of the two perspectives over the other, but by showing that the one is its other. I wi l l attempt to establish a \"position\" that takes into account both the \"personal\" and the \"concrete\" or socio-historical reality (in Chile or Lat in Amer ica in general), and advocate a \"perspective\" that 152 lies undecidably in-between both and lets the one haunt the other. This \"position\" implies a \"democratic politics\" according to which it is necessary (and perhaps less exclusionary) to continue writing, hearing, expressing, claiming and being sensitive to individual concerns (protesting, for example, against the marginalization of sex\/ualities) in conjunction with wider social demands that acknowledge other oppressions. For it is true that in Lat in Amer ica the repression of lesbians and gays has not ceased nor \u2014 to use Neruda's words \u2014 has the oppression of other \"pueblos \/ . . . [en] la carcel \/ . . . \/ [frente] las ametralladoras . . . \/ . . . \/ en plantaciones de dulzura amarga, \/ . . . \/ o en infernales minas\" (\"people \/ . . . [in] j a i l \/ . . . \/ [in front of] machine guns . . . \/ . . . \/ in bittersweet plantations, \/ . . . \/ or in infernal mines\" [Neruda, 1990, 36-7]). In this respect, I espouse Chantal Mouffe's concept of a feminist democratic politics which \"should be understood not as a separate form of politics designed to pursue the interests of women as women, but rather as the pursuit of feminist goals and aims within the context of a wider articulation of demands\" (Mouffe, 1992, 382). To return to Farina's poetry, one can say that it is another work of eroics, more specifically of lesbian eroics. Here it is not only a Woman but also a Lesbian who affirms her indepen-dence. She writes \"outside the preconceived lineage of fathers and sons,\" to use Avi la ' s words cited at the beginning of this section. She writes in defiance of a literary (fore)father \"tied to the firm trunk of an enormous, labyrinthine genealogical tree\" of Lat in American or Chilean letters. Farifia's entire book, seen panoramically, maintains this defiance in extraordinarily beautiful poetic descriptions of homoerotic encounters, written in the first person singular and in the present tense. I have mentioned these two grammatical traits of the text because they are very significant, since both support Farifia's case for Lesbian affirmation, present-ation and exemplarity. I shall come back to this. Considering the historico-political as well as the literary context within which Farina's Albricia appeared, I want to make another point, which wi l l then lead to a discussion of the title of the book, which already proposes this assertion of Lesbian, literary autonomy. However, I want to suggest that, in my view, Farina does not manage to affirm the auton-omy of lesbians because Farina in no way escapes from the home of the fathers and sons and the scene of filiations, but rather perpetuates them in a reverse sense. It is mothers, 153 sisters, lovers and daughters that become the new ontologico-mythical ground of a renewed type of oppositional filiation and progeny. Yet, her Lesbian sti l l remains homebound and dependent on a domus, a community of domesticity that essentially domesticates her al-terity and makes her fit in somewhere. Farina's discourse declares a Lesbian and literary independence that is unable to be truly independent from its declared \"enemy,\" the pa-triarch. The Lesbian in Farina's text is not autonomous \u2014 even i f the poet might think so \u2014 because she is defined as the reversed and mirror image of her (fore)fathers (and in fact celebrated exemplarily as such). In a sense, Farina's Lesbian is an infantilized girl \u2014 Freud's homophobic female homosexual with \"penis envy\" (Irigaray, 1985b, 43) \u2014 sti l l in the very dependent and subservient position of \"asking permission from her elders\" to reproduce them and simply reflecting in reverse their \"ruling authority.\" Farina's discourse does not seek its subject's (the Lesbian's) emancipation but rather her return to repres-sion, her restriction to the same phallocratic system that repudiated her and displaced her in the first place. Rather than having the \"lesbian\" (hyperlesbian) remain an unbound and non-assimilable other that exceeds, escapes and even threatens and disorganizes that phallocentric system, Farina's discourse constructs a Lesbian subject, copying it and con-solidating it. Farina's Lesbian is constructed \"as 'not man' and, therefore as not equal to man\" (Cornell , 1993, 7). This is an Other of lesser value that mirrors, consolidates and secures the return of (fore)fathers to their selfsame. Both cases of (fore)fathers and (fore)mothers, whether unfolded in heterosexual\/sexist or homosexual terms, are cases of the same homoiophylophilia \u2014 an economy of the home, filiation, homogeneity, identity, and so on (see the \"Introduction\" and \"Glossary\" of this study) \u2014 replacing one face of author-ity with another, or essentially mirroring and repro-ducing a machista authority, that of the (fore)fathers. What was said about Bellessi's and her Woman-Mother is also true here, the tyranny of One archy remains. Indeed, I am not convinced at al l of the political efficacy of portrarying lesbianism in the above dialectical terms or in opposition to (fore)fathers. This portrayal proposes indirectly that the libera-tion and autonomy of the Lesbian Other implied by Farina is possible only when she is a mirror of her fathers, constructed as a (ph)alios, an Other suffering from a Lat in Phallus envy. For as Stavans writes, the \"Lat in Phallus as well as gunpowder was [always] a crucial 154 weapon used to subdue\" (Stavans, 1998, 228). This proposition makes the Lesbian unable to ever escape patri-archy, (fore)fathers, or dictators. We must not forget that Farina's affirmation of a Lesbian exemplarity comes at a very significant historico-political and cultural moment for Chile. It almost coincides with the demand for another type of autonomy, the scream of a no pasardn resisting the face of polit ical tyranny and hurled at Pinochet's fascism. Fariiia's Albricia appears just as this dictator-patriarch's violent rule collapses, at the moment of \"democracy's\" return to Chile . It is as if fascism's ghosts must come to light: the hidden, censored, invisible, closetted, marginalized, excluded, disappeared, terrorized, silenced, and absent. Just as democracy is arriving at last, these ghosts also return from their exile. I am not sure of the appropriateness of my association here, but it is as if Pinochet's dead and disappeared come out from the graves, as Farina's Lesbian comes out of the closet, appearing free and visible, more present than ever in a \"democratic\" Chile and its tyranny-free House of Letters. Farina comes out in Hispanic Letters and \"deals with the subject of lesbianism openly\" (Umpierre, 1996, 172). As Smyth might say, in this fashion Farina expresses a \"wish for inclusion by marginalized, underrepresented people . . . [that] end[s] up as a strategy essential for our survival!\" (Smyth, 1995, 123). I do not deny the validity and the urgency of this wish, but I am unable to see it in the black and white terms that it is often seen in by many feminists and by Farina in particular. I fear the very meaning of the word in-clusion (to shut in , to close, to closet!), that is evocative of a number of boundaries and enclosed spaces, including graves, prisons, closets, stadiums jammed with the junta's poli t ical \"enemies\" about to be disappeared or kil led. I fear the word in-clusion because it somehow demands that the Other be brought into some fenced-in place, a home of domestication or a House of Letters, where it can easily be kept an eye on, patrolled and rehabilitated. In this sense, inclusion has the terrifying aspect of blocking the other's passage, of an impasse in the literal sense of this word, not allowing the other to be free to come and go. Inclusion here is a non-passage for the other, signifying not \"her\"\/\"its\" emancipation as claimed or hoped, but a subtly and potentially violent \"vict imizat ion\" of the other. 155 The most disturbing aspect of this k ind of in-clusion is that it essentially wants to force the lesbian to fit (be in-cluded, en-closed, imprisoned) back into the same patriarchal House, the same masculine ideal within which she was previously closeted and made invisible, and from which she wanted to escape. I wi l l suggest shortly another type of radical inclusion and democracy, which are synonyms for what I call hyperlesbianism. Farina's in-clusion can be read as a demand for quarantining the other and making the ghcest-stv&nger familiar, forcing the other to in-habit a place, to belong somewhere. When we use the words \"inclusion of the other\" we must never take them for granted, but must constantly keep questioning them. What does the term in-clusion mean? Where can the \"marginalized\" be included? Whose enclosed space must they be brought to? Do they want to be in-cluded where we think they should be included? Do they want to be represented, known, presented or affirmed, given the autonomy we think they need? W h y is it necessary that they be shut in somewhere, fit into a new boundary, be restricted to a new l imit? W h y \u2014 in Farina's case \u2014 must the other be homebound and \"under house arrest\"? What is the category of \"marginalized\" and \"underrepresented\" here? Is not \"the marginalized\" a vict imizing category in which the other is fixed, to be a priori a helpless v ic t im always prone to marginalization and exclusion? What is the centre and the margin here? I must stress that I am not trying to deny the fact that lesbians, and women in general, have been repressed, persecuted, or fenced into concentration camps (I wi l l later refer to Cuba's camps reserved for gay people), marginalized or excluded, in Chile or in Lat in America's literary Houses or in any House. I am not simply referring to displacements from literary canons, Houses of Letters, cultural or representational systems, etc. Caputo writes: \"As long as one of these least among us is homeless or unfed, unjustly imprisoned or exiled, without a school to attend or a home to come home to, there is injustice, and that injustice is intolerable, 'absolutely' or ' infinitely' intolerable, and 'we' are absolutely or 'infinitely responsible' here and now, just in virtue of the justice or democracy to come\" (Caputo, 2000, 120). I would add to Caputo's remarks that as long as there are here and now lesbians or gay (and any) people that are silenced, repudiated, censored, pathologized, denied access to jobs, criminalized, imprisoned, gassed, bashed, beaten or killed, there can be no peace of mind but only perpetual torment \u2014 later I will say re-morse \u2014 crisis and 156 unease. M y study is governed and tormented by this unease and is contantly engaged with crisis, wi th the pain, suffering, \"passion,\" death and anguish of those who are excluded, or disappeared, who are not allowed to exist \u2014 the impassable. I do not therefore disavow the displaced (and the lesbian as such a displaced person) or their suffering, their demands for rights, expression or organizing. I am rather exploring the idea that these demands may be accomplished when we see them linked to an en-terprise of transforming \"all discourses, practices and social relations where the category 'woman' [or 'lesbian'] is contructed in a way that implies subordination\" (Mouffe, 1992, 382), as she is subtly constructed by Farina's discourse. I am trying to step around (over-come) the vict imizing and dialectical logic of a feminist discourse grounded in the binary included\/excluded and speak of a radical meta-logic which consists of seeing the excluded other as an alterity or difference already within (that is, already included in) an exclusive and hegemonic majority (call it , for instance, \"heteronormative world\"). This alterity is not simply within such a hegemonic majority, but also is the other that never allows such a hegemony to have absolute power over those that it thinks it can subject, control or exclude. Such an alterity is ultimately the exclusion and impasse of all hegemony. The excluded other is what prohibits an exclusive power to be entirely effective and therefore to be truly powerful and exclusive. Strictly speaking, there is no absolute power or hege-mony, whether it be called fascism, patriarchy, or phallocracy. There is only otherness and difference, this impasse, impossibility or impotence of power to be completely masterful or effective. Power is powerlessness. I call this other(ness), which comprises the impasse or powerlessness of hegemony, hyperlesbianism. The hyperlesbian is another name for democracy \u2014 something like Derrida's differance \u2014 the democratic threat, or interven-tion that always inhabits, haunts like a ghcest, interferes and brings about crisis within any hegemonic or exclusionary force, any \"archy.\" This is why I make the hyperlesbian be a synonym for \"a democracy ... and not . . . [for] an oligarchy or a monarchy or a patriarchy\" (Caputo in a different context, 2000, 118). The originary impotence, democracy or what I call hyperlesbianism, which is always em-bedded within any hegemony, also insinuates a more radical and originary inclusion of alterity. I am reluctant to subscribe to Farina's dialectical politics of so-called autonomy 157 and inclusion because for me the other was never excluded, strictly speaking, or \u2014 to use a phrase familiar to those who deal with deconstruction \u2014 \"the outside was always inside\" (the margin is the centre, the excluded is the included), in such a way that one can no longer separate the one from its other. Even in the particular case of homosexuality and of being or coming \"out,\" Diana Fuss suggests that \"to be out is really to be in\" (Fuss, 1991, 4 ) . The other (the \"lesbian\") is always with-in. To speak in the concrete terms of Chile's patriarchy or fascism and its exclusions of others (sexual, poli t ical and so on), what I mean by the above observations is the following: even if a ruling authority or a sovereign House of Letters does everything in its power to exclude and to marginalize; even if such a sovereignty has recourse to the most violent means to disappear, terrorize, forbid, censor, murder, imprison, displace, \"underrepresent\" or simply silence and not represent at all the other, any other, including the lesbian; even if such a \"ruling authority\" believes it has managed to do so, it is absolutely mistaken. Author-i ty is mistaken precisely because it underestimates otherness, what I call the hyperlesbian or democracy. The One that rules and excludes is ultimately \"the excluded.\" The One is its other. The One that prohibits is the one prohibited, or the one at the l imit of its power. There is no binary as exclusion\/inclusion. This is because the (hyperlesbian) other has always been in, included in that very violent regime, as the regime's own threat of self-impasse, as its own self-exclusion or self-impossibility. Radical ly speaking, this logic exceeds the questionable and oppositional schema of inclusion\/exclusion. The radicality of this position consists of the fact that beyond the exemplary category of a vict imized Other (such as Farina's category of the Lesbian, for example), whom a superior subject undertakes the task to include and emancipate, there is a more originary alterity that is the impasse and l imi t of any exclusive agent and all violent authority. In this sense, democracy, as I understand it, had never left Chile or its partriarchal House of Letters. It was always at the heart of fascism, and patriarchy as a threat to their own impossibility, as their deferral. This spectral threat, this hyperlesbian (other), or ghcest was a surreptitious no pasardn haunting Pinochet's palace, permeating the walls of Chile's Houses, filling sovereignty with dread and fear, so that it constantly wanted to impose, to rule, repress, censor and terrorize. For tyranny resorts to violence and exclusion because 158 in the end it knows that it is itself nothing: it is an absolute impasse; it has the face of the excluded. It follows that the democracy or hyperlesbianism I am speaking of can neither be conflated with what was called a \"democratic system\" after the collapse of Chile's distatorship, nor with what Farina, Collyer and other writers of this generation might understand as democracy: that is, as the coming out of the marginalized people and including in a House of Letters, or as the coming out and the return to Chile of tyranny's displaced others. It is true, however, that this peculiar and excessive democracy or hyperlesbianism which I am discussing has some minimal relationship with both of the above understandings of the democratic; and hyperlesbianism is linked to the name of a displaced other, that of the lesbian. (This idea must be understood as expressing my \"methodological\" approach or my double or hetceronymic usage of terms.) The democracy or hyperlesbianism that I am suggesting here is another name for a more originary alterity than Farifia's Other. It is the specter haunting all fascism and any hegemonic ruling authority. It represents the impasse and the not-yet of all hegemony, so that any form of despotism \u2014 understood in any way \u2014 is in a state of emergency, in perpetual crisis. W i t h i n this meta-logic, democracy did not die when Allende died or when Chile's male club of Letters believed itself to be firmly rooted in its genealogical trees. It was always there and remained there even after his assassination by the junta, for democracy is the shout (the hyperlesbian other) of a no pasardn, a resistance force keeping watch over totalitarianism in any of its forms, whether manifested as a cultural House of Letters or as a patriarchal or mil i tary system. The Lesbian Literary \"Context\" of Albricia I now want to turn my attention to Farina's attempts to \"deal with the subject of les-bianism openly\" by recuperating a proper Lesbian Communi ty of Chilean Letters based on the recovery of Gabriela Mistral 's name. This is a \"democratic\" attempt to found the exemplary Other House of Letters, challenging the previous patriarchal tradition that had silenced women writers, and more importantly lesbians. Gabriela Mistral 's poetry seems to have influenced Farina's Albricia immensely. A t the opening of Farifia's book, the reader is faced with an extract from one of Mistral 's poems. It is not coincidental that Mistral 's 159 name appears in Farina's poetry. It has almost a consecrating function, as i f Mis t ra l herself were the forgotten matriarch giving her blessing to her daughter, the inheritor of a new lesbian literary tradition. As I have already implied, I am not sure at al l that I agree with A v i l a , who believes that the grounding of these Other letters, these Other ambassadors of cultural inheritance, opposed to and mirroring their forefathers, can truly manage to shake Lat in America's lineage of fathers and sons. I am not even certain that Farina, through Mis t ra l , manages to undo Lesbian marginalization by creating a Lesbian home and a literary genealogy of mothers. M y position differs from Avi la ' s and Farina's in that perhaps the answer to the problem of lesbian exclusion does not require her confinement to her own home (which ultimately is a copy of the paternal or patriarchal home), but the excess, the impassability of the very idea of home boundaries, determination, and by extension of inheritance, lineage and filiation. It requires the excess of all exemplarism and homoiophylophilia, whether it is based on the category of heterosexuality or on the category of homosexuality, adapting the ideals and norms of the heterosexual\/sexist home. It even demands the impasse of the determinations homosexuality and heterosexuality op-posed to each other. It demands the tresspassing of all l imits and terms, all de-fmitions. I am playing here with the \"term\" of determination and the La t in finire of definition (to set a l imi t to). Finis is the end, death. In Greek the word terma is an edge, boundary, frontier, horizon, end, turn, extremity. A synonym for \"term\" is the word peras, which is related to aporia, that is, to indeterminacy. Apor ia , Derrida writes, is \"the difficult or the impractical , here the impossible passage\" (Derrida, 1993a, 8). I am anticipating some of my discussion, but there is st i l l a point I want to make here with regard to Farina's \"context\" and her attempt to erect a Lesbian House of Letters \u2014 no doubt a \"democratic\" attempt as inclusion, as we saw, parallel to the arrival of \"democracy\" in Chile . What Farina does is to affirm the Other House exemplarily as Lesbian, affirming also \"her\"\/its difference defined in terms of (homo)sexuality. Mis t ra l aids her to do so, as one of the canonical \"closeted\" poets of Chile, \"polished to a stereotypical sheen, of the celibate pedagogue and spiritual mother of Lat in Amer ica\" (Molloy, 1995, 237). Very recently, literary cri t icism by Farina's poetic generation, demanding its own tradition and declaring its independance from patriarchs and tyrants, has undertaken the mission of 160 recognizing and unearthing Mistral 's crypto-homosexuality, buried under a male-dominated poetic canon and \"a patriarchal-heterosexist order, as it existed at that [Mistral's] t ime in La t in America\" (Fiol -Mat ta , 1995, 204). I see Mis t ra l very differently from the way she is used by this cri t icism and by Farina. Mis t ra l is a figure of what I have designated as the hyperlesbian other, or as a democracy within Chile's male House of Letters. Although at that time (when the \"patriarchal\" House of Letters dominated the canon) Mis t ra l was a closeted homosexual poet, she represents for me a surrepticious democracy, a resisting force of no pasard inhabiting and threatening the integrity, solidity and identity of that hegemonic House. Mis t ra l is a woman-poet, the figure of excessive lesbianism that although encrypted, extemely repressed, constantly silenced (by herself and by others), was always there permeating the heterosexual\/sexist or machista walls, never allowing them to close upon themselves and expel their other outside their borders. Mis t ra l was something like an underground force of disruption and resistance against occupying forces. She is, for me, the crack in the edifice of the male clan, the face of its deficiency and the incompleteness of its power. She is the indication that this clan's borders were always permeable, porous. Mis t ra l in my view represents a figure of the hyperlesbian impasse, the powerlessness of power, or the impossibility of al l houses and their borders. The title Albricia of Farina's book, apart from a number of other meanings which I wi l l examine, signifies \"gift.\" In fact the book, a written proof of Lesbian letters, might be seen as Farifia's gift to Mis t ra l , reclaiming and vindicating both lesbianism and Mis t ra l . Farina appropriates and violates Mistral 's name and her lesbianism, making Mis t ra l a counterpart to, and ultimately a copy of, her (fore)fathers. Believing that she does justice to Mis t ra l by recuperating her name by paying homage to a marginalized and silenced poet of Lat in American letters, Farina gives the most \"precious\" gift to her wronged predecessor, to her mother, sister, poet, Woman, Lesbian, Chilean. This is the gift of recognition of \"who they both are,\" it is the uncloseting of their Al ter i ty and affirming of their own Difference, a gift of democratic \"auto-affirmation\" and \"autonomy.\" Farifia's book declares: here we are. Of course, Collyer's irreverent advice to the new generation of artists to reject their elders is not entirely assumed by Farina. It seems that for her some elders (like Mistral) 161 are more worthy than others, just because they are \"our\" foremothers. \"The central question . . . of lesbian history . . . : Where are the lesbians?\" (Rupp, 1996, 153) is now answered in the case of Chile. As can be seen, Farina's essentialist reclamation of Lesbian Difference assimilates Mistral 's name and lesbianism for its own benefit. Farina's Difference makes use not only of sexual determination but also of other boundaries. It is a Difference that sets up a number of other borders and l imits , guarding itself as if from a threat. Farina's Lesbianism is a Difference defined in terms of a name (Mistral) , a topography, a country called Chile. It is an Al ter i ty in relation to an exemplary nationality (Chilean) in a specific historical present (the collapse of dictatorship and the arrival of \"democracy\"). This Difference belongs to a certain scene of cultural and gender affiliation formed by Women poets. It comes from a particular class (both Mis t ra l and Farina come from the middle class), and shares the common ground of literature and of poetry in particular. This Difference, or at least its affirmation, emerged as a reaction guided by a common denominator: namely, the marginalization of Women-Lesbian-poets. This Difference is organized as the Other community, a separate congregation or segregation setting up its own boundaries. These limits guard such a Difference like a fortress; they protect a Lesbian \"us\" from its enemies, a \"them.\" The \"them\" describes the others whom any exemplary Difference or Al ter i ty excludes because they constitute the threat (the impassability) of such essentialist Alter i ty 's coherence. The \"us\" of this exemplary Difference and the \"them\" is the distinction between friend and enemy, a distinction that comprises the very definition of the poli t ical for Car l Schmitt (as Derrida has shown in Politics of Friendship). What Farina does here (and which I find extremely problematic) has not been done only by those who want to affirm their (homo)sexual Difference: this demarcation of Difference can also be racial, ethnic, linguistic, class-oriented, territorial and so on. This deed \u2014 which often is seen to be an innocent declaration of our community, our autonomy, our rights, our own, that is, proper Difference \u2014 is accomplished every single day in every part of the world, by any type of \"us\" demarcating its own \"homoiophylophilic\" Difference. Consider, for instance, that segregating our Difference in Africa took the form of Apartheid, l i terally to set apart, to set up l imits , to de-term-ine: \" A P A R T H E I D : by itself the word occupies the terrain like a concentration camp. System of partition, barbed wire, 162 crowds of mapped out solitudes . . . The word concentrates separation, raises it to another power and sets separation itself apart: 'apartitionality, ' something like that\" (Derrida, 1986c, 331). The philia of homoiophylophilia also refers to this \"us\" as friends: philos in Greek. This is a reminder and a warning that must be kept in mind when one reads the following poli t ical example. In no way am I equating one determination of Difference (sexual) with another, that is not my point. What I am trying to do here is to point out the problems that exemplary determination itself poses to the other who becomes regarded as enemy (any excluded other in general). It is true that these problems that arise from any process of de-term-nation \u2014 the setting up of boundaries, setting apart \u2014 would also be responsible for the displacement of the lesbian in a culture determined according to heterosexual\/sexist norms. To return to a poli t ical example, an actual manual on strategies of war, called Psychological Operations in Guerilla Warfare, supplied to contras in Nicaragua by a C I A agent, states the \"principle of psychology that we humans have the tendency to form per-sonal associations from 'we' and the 'others,' or 'we' and 'they,' 'friends' and 'enemies'\" (Cited by Keenan, 1997, 15). We humans have indeed the tendency to delimit our commu-nity of Difference, to defend \"us\" against our others. In Nicaragua that \"us\" meant war, bombing villages and ki l l ing innocent people. In Chile under Pinochet's regime of \"us,\" it took the sinister face of disappearance, assassination and other types of violences, one of which was the silencing of lesbianism and of homosexuality in general. I do. not think that difference or alterity can be determined in any sense or be established according to any sort of boundaries and criteria from which we can keep an eye on both of them and patrol them. What I wi l l say should not be taken immediately as directed solely against Farina's essentialist category of the \"Lesbian,\" but against any form of homoiophy-lophilia in general. Homoiophylophilia is an economy of self-love, alluded to in the word itself as a grafting of concepts of home, homogeneity, community, selfhood, identity, friend-ship; it conveys something akin to Derrida's definition of the German word \"Geschlecht,\" a term \"that gathers in its idiomatic value stock, race, family species, genus\/gender, genera-tion, sex\" (Derrida, 1987a, 183). Homoiophylophilia is understood as any form of selfsame de-term-ination, the setting-up of boundaries and auto-affirmation where one keeps oneself 163 safe from the danger of being other. Homoiophylophilia is oneself being at home with itself, and is therefore at odds with what I have designated as hyperlesbianism or democracy, a radical \"conception\" of the other represented here by Mis t ra l . Farifia's Difference belongs to family, a species (human), a genus, a gender, a sex, a class. It becomes therefore an instance of what Judi th Butler might call \" 'the queer' as an exclusionary force\" and whose \"critique . . . is crucial to the continuing democratization of queer politics\" (Butler, 1993, 227). Lesbians of color not only might find Farina's essentialist or exemplary Lesbian Difference exclusionary, but also provocatively offensive as a bourgeois or \"white lesbianism\" in narcissistic auto-contemplation of itself and inconsiderate to other issues of oppression that are related to race and class, etc. This is, for instance, Cherrfe Morraga's point when, in the other American continent (in the United States) and from another position (\"lesbian of color\"), she writes: \" A traves de los anos 70 mientras que mas y mas blancas, en su mayoria de clase media, empezaban a enfatizar el genero como unico origen de su propia opresion, fracasaban asi en su esfuerzo de incorporar los intereses de las mujeres de color de los E E U U de manera fundamental mas alia de la teoria\" (\"Through the '70s while more and more white women, in the majority from the middle class, started to emphasize gender as the only origin of their oppression, they failed thus in their attempt to incorporate the women of color of the United States in a fundamental way beyond theory,\" Moraga, 1988, 3). Homoiophylophilia implies also concepts of property, the oiko-nomy (oikos is Greek for home) of the proper, of one's own. This de-limit-ation is not only pernicious and deadly to this Other's excluded others, but also to any unique and exclusive Other, whether such an Other is identified as Lesbian or as Woman, etc. I say this because to delimit the lesbian is precisely to violate her otherness, to deprive her of her alterity, to convert her into an identity, to restrict her, to circumscribe her into something knowable, into something that passes as such and such, and thus becomes assimilable \u2014 assimilable because she is a de-term-inable identity. She is no longer other. To delineate the Lesbian is to rob her of her inappropriate\/d alterity, to rob from her the possibility of being impossible to identify and thus it is to subjugate, exclude, marginalize her once more; it is to steal from her the possibility of being impassable, of always escaping any attempt to exemplify her, make 164 her fit into an identity and selfsameness of essentialist attributes, cram her into identity's boundaries, into a ghetto from which she can be easily watched and controlled. Some feminists \u2014 and Farina's or Bellessi's discourses advocate this \u2014 might argue that to recognize \"who\" the other is, or to demarcate the other (as an identity, essence, etc.) is the only way to undo \"her\" displacement or to emancipate \"her.\" The (hyper)feminist \"posi-tion\" I defend (which strictly speaking is not a position since it does not posit the other but leaves \"her\" indeterminate) is different in that it holds that any essentialist recognition or de-limit-ation of the other ends up inflicting violence upon \"her.\" I am arguing this because one affirms and posits the lesbian according to already existing criteria and param-eters established within a heteronormative world, subordinating her back to the same old structure that had effected her displacement. One recognizes and affirms the lesbian with the criteria and the language of the master \u2014 so to speak \u2014 instead of retaining her alter-ity intact and non-assimilable and allowing \"her\" be the very displacement of that master and the impossibility (powerlessness) of (his) mastery and his homoiophylophilic \"homes.\" (Recall that homoiophylophilia alludes also to the French homme, and the Spanish hombre for man.) When I later call for a particular non-affirmation or non-de-limit-ation of the other, in no way do I wish to erase or reject lesbianism, but rather attempt to undo the lesbian's displacement by speaking of the impossibility of affirming\/positing her with-in the parameters (\"homes\") of the master. This was also the point I tried to make in the \"Introduction\" to this study when, for example, I constructed hetaerography as an alterity impossible to assert or posit as any specific identity or in any sense-essence. Two presuppositions underlie the above observations. 1) In the case of Diana Bellessi's Sexual Difference and of Woman-(m)Other, I had remarked on a hyperfeminist and ex-cessive alterity which became Woman's self-disappearance. Similarly in Farina's case of a Difference (which Farina converts into an identity constructed in terms of the exemplary category of homosexuality), I am speaking of this pseudo-Difference's excess as hyperles-bianism or as a hyperlesbian other (other than Farina's pseudo-Other) as democracy. This hyperlesbianism-democracy is a no pasard or impasse, the trespassing of al l essentialist determinations, including Farina's l i m i t \/ e d Other de-fined as Lesbian. The no pasard is in other words an expression of indeterminacy, or another name for aporia, the not-yet-165 passing as such of a singular identity or pseudo-Other \u2014 in this particular case of the term Lesbian. As Derrida suggests: \"the barred passage, no pasardn: this is what 'aporia' means\" (Derrida, 1994b, 24). The no pasard is an undecidability in the sense that there are no l imits , boundaries, secure grounds or \"essentialist\" de-finitions to which we can confine alterity and difference \u2014 to con-fine, that is, to give the other (and the lesbian) a finis, to finish, end the other, to inflict upon the other (and the lesbian) death: \"the nonpassage, the impasse or aporia stems from the fact that there is no l imi t . There is not yet or there is no longer a border to cross, no opposition between two sides: the l imi t is too porous, permeable, and indeterminate. There is no longer a home [chez-soi] and not-home [chez I'autre]\" (Derrida, 1993a, 20). 2) W i t h the second presupposition I want to call attention to the fact that my efforts to disavow any circumscription of alterity do not merely take issue with a theoretical discourse that performs epistemic violence by essentializing and appropriating the other. I am not simply critiquing the appropriation of the lesbian in theory, through language, rhetorics, poetic reclamations, cultural representations, conceptual or ontological configurations, and so on, that aim at answering the question \"what\/who is the Lesbian.\" I find the sepa-ration (often attempted by some theory) between the two realms of so-called theoretical and concrete domains tenuous and problematic, but my deconstructive efforts to deny all essentialist determination of the other originate also in what rightly or wrongly is called historical (concrete) reality. Identifying who is the other can only be catastrophic and deadly. In effect, one does not have to remain in Chile's \"historical reality\" of Pinochet's fascism to understand that the terror and violence of non-passage exercised upon any ci t i -zen was possible only because the regime identified its others \u2014 the enemies it was about to negate, that is, disappear and murder \u2014 as properly possessing a specific class identity, sexuality, ethnicity, or a poli t ical or cultural orientation and so on, that was at odds with, or seemed threatening to the regime. In this case, to determine \"who\" the other was was tantamount to determining real death targets: to determine the other was to exterminate the other. Therefore it is not the identity of the other or when \"her\" difference are affirmed that the other can escape violence, but the other way around: the only possible way the other can escape violence is when it remains absolutely unaffirmed and unrecognizable as 166 such; that is, only when it remains truly other (beyond a name, a sexuality, a class, and so on), whether this is the impossible other in \"theory,\" or in the realm of the \"concrete.\" In short, we cannot (and must not) know \"who\" the other is, in theory or in praxis. Historical reality is replete with instances of the other's delimitation as the other's non-passage. Lacoue-Labarthe writes that the German utopia of self-proclamation had can-celled a question of essence (i.e. \"who are the Germans?\") and \"had transformed it into an answer, a ' solut ion '\" (Lacoue-Labarthe, 1999, 8), the final solution, a self-determination after which came the extermination of what was other (the enemy) to the exemplary Ger-man essence. After the Germans affirmed their difference, they also decided what was properly homosexual, Jewish, communist, gypsy, upon which Nazism could exercise its final solution, which consisted in its enemies' dissolution. Let me repeat that I am not referring to delineation of the other as appropriation in theoretical terms exclusively. Whether this happens in what one designates as praxis, ev-eryday life, history, reality and so on, to decide who or what the other \"is\" is equivalent to dissolving \"her\" in the most atrocious and sinister way. It ended up as torture and disappearance in many parts of Lat in America , just as it was expulsions, the forced exile of people recognized as Jewish or Musl ims during Spain's past of fanatical Catholic fervor. De-finition of the other justified the other's end or death, the assassination of those iden-tified as Spain's Republicans and gays. (I am, of course, referring to the case of Federico Garcia Lorca \u2014 Spain's extraordinary and crypto-gay poet \u2014 who was brutally murdered in the wake of Franco's dictatorial regime.) In Cuba, Che Guevara demarcated \"the space of the faggot . . . [as] diametrically opposed to the very hygiene of the revolution.\" We now know that this determined \"space of the faggot,\" the identity \"faggot\" affirmed by Gue-vara, gave rise to his\/her no pasard, the catastrophic \"notorious U M A P camps ('Unidades Militares de A y u d a de Produccion, ' active from 1965 to 1967) where the Revolution im-prisoned homosexuals and other 'antisocial ' elements\" (Quiroga, 1995, 169-70), the Cuban \"revolutionary\" example of marking and fencing off the other. It is no wonder, therefore, that any attempt to delimit exemplarity the other is disconcerting and violent, any other and in any way, whether in theory or in praxis, whether in what one calls language, text, discourse, etc., or experience and the real world. This is also 167 why I resort to the \"concept\" of the hyperlesbian other as the democractic impasse of all \"borders,\" \"homes,\" identities and de-term-inations. The impasse here \u2014 which conserves in itself its own blockage so that it can never be converted into an essence, or a final solution \u2014 is the only safeguard of the other. It is the \"closeting\" of \"her\" name so that we do not yet know \"who she is\" (she is not yet an identity or a \"term\") in order to obliterate \"her;\" \"she\" st i l l remains other, im-passable, im-possible. For, \"[sjometimes the effacement of the name is the best safeguard\" (Derrida, 1995f, 390). The im-passable other is un-decided and st i l l to come. \"She\" is also the democratic threat to all \"identity\" boundaries and delimitations, to all exemplarism in any of its forms, happening here or \"out there\" in the world. The im-passable other, like the future of the not-yet, is the only hope of justice. The hyperlesbian (or democracy) is an unexpected other (unexpected as an identity or as an essence) and is also another name for the \"messianic\" promise of justice against any violence exercised upon (and on behalf of or against) the other. This is a messianicity without messianism. This would be the opening to the future or to the com-ing of the other as the advent of justice, but without horizon of expectation and without prophetic prefiguration. The coming of the other can only emerge as a singular event when no anticipation sees it coming, when the other and death . . . can come as a surprise at any moment . . . This messianic dimension does not depend upon any messianism, it follows no determinate revelation, it belongs properly to no Abrahamic religion . . . A n invincible desire for justice is linked to this expectation. By definition, the latter is not and ought not to be certain of anything, either through knowledge, consciousness, conscience, foreseeability or any kind of programme as such. . . . This justice inscribes itself in advance in the promise, in the act of faith or in the appeal to faith that inhabits every act of language and every address to the other . . . It is the decision of the other in the undecidable. (Derrida, 1998b, 17-8) 168 Albricia or the Gift of Justice: Faith in the Coming of the Other A l b r i c i a is a Gift of Justice My home endures its [death's] body like a flame that burns it up I feel the heat that gives out its face \u2014 firebrick \u2014 on my door. I experience a happiness I did not know before: I suffer from being alive, I die from being alert, and at this point of agony my strength goes with its strength! Gabriela Mis t ra l 8 I am intrigued by the word albricia, which is the title Soledad Farifia gives to her book. As if it were absolutely unrepeatable, this word is only pronounced this one time throughout the book. Farifia conserves for this word the place of a \/leading. Albricia is a term that needs to come before and above everything else. It occupies the book's very first spot, the leading place, as i f it were announcing a prerogative, a privilege, a title indicating that something is at stake: albricia is a word that implies urgency. Albricia proclaims the good news of a message of Lesbian redemption. It is not just a book of poetry, but a gospel, a messianic revelation in the Graeco-Christian sense of these two words, an evangelion, l i terally a good message. Albricia represents the recognition, quasi-apocalyptic unearthing and thus recuperation of the excluded Lesbian, buried within Chile's patriarchal House of Letters that discriminated against both women and lesbians. Marcus celebrates this \u2014 in my view problematic and essentialist \u2014 kind of restoration of the Lesbian (now made visible and present), as \"Sapphistory.\" \"Sapphistory\" is the recov-ery of a forgotten \"herstory\" and a Lesbian voice by \"making . . . [history's] absent figures more present\" (Marcus, 1990, 174). In Farifia's case this apocalyptic enterprise takes place mostly by uncloseting Mistral 's lesbianism and through Farina's book as her (its) lesbian succession, the continuation of a Sapphistoric tradition coming out in Chilean letters. W i t h Albricia, Farina discloses a proper alternative Lesbian House of Letters, as a counterpart 169 to the male-dominated literary tradition. This Sapphistory or homoiophylophilia is not, as I have argued above, ultimately radical or subversive of the old \"home\" belonging to the elders, forefathers and brothers, since Farina does not aim at moving beyond or challenging the idea of \"home\" itself, or literary genealogy in general. Paradoxically, her move repro-duces in an inverted form and therefore consolidates the patriarchal\/matriarchal \"home\" to which the lesbian had been denied access. In discussing Albricia as the title chosen by Farina to name her book, it is relevant to recall some of the significations of the term \"title\" itself. Albricia functions as an appelation and an appeal to the proper name of the Lesbian, calling her into presence, while making an urgent request to re-hear her voice, and review her case of exclusion from Chile's House of Letters. In another sense, in legal terms, Albricia is an urgent heading that also presents a right to ownership of the Lesbian Other: it is a title that entitles Farina and her proclaimed sister, Mis t ra l (for this is an-Other family affair) to represent and claim their right to head Chile's real estate of Other letters. The title Albricia \u2014 which also means present or gift \u2014 presents both a legal claim and a court case. Two witnesses for the defense of Lesbian letters take the\/a stand: both Farina and Mis t ra l (as portrayed by Farina) testify to a Lesbian presence, as if in effect it were this presence that was sti l l somehow threatened and in need of defense. Albricia is this hearing of the Lesbian case, a Sapphistory of reclaiming legitimacy, presence, being. But one must not hasten to conclude that just because Farina reclaims the Lesbian and recalls her into presence she actually manages to do so. On the contrary, in my reading it is precisely a Lesbian presence that seems to escape here, remaining disappeared, encrypted and \"closeted.\" After a l l , Albricia functions as a message and a defense appeal. It is written in defense of an incomplete or lost Lesbian presence. What is defended is presence itself; that is, the other made present exemplarily as Lesbian. The one \"who\" is defended is an identity, a determination called \"Lesbian\" and not the other in the sense I give that word. The not-yet-presented, indeterminate other cannot, by definition, be defended because it does not yet exist. Al ter i ty is what escapes, identity is what is mastered. Consequently, Farina does not truly safeguard but loses an essentialist delimitation of alterity, a pseudo-alterity, the identity or essence of \"Lesbian.\" When Farina transforms this alterity into 170 a l imited identity, presence (etc.) of the Lesbian, this is also when Farifia loses \"her\" as such. She therefore feels compelled to write a book entitled Albricia, which translates also as reward and recompense (Corominas and Pascual, 1980, 121), in order to recover, and compensate for, the Lesbian precisely as an (already) impossible and irrecoverable presence. This is why Farifia's message of compensation-redemption is so urgent that it is announced in the very first word of the book, as its heading. Albricia says: save the Lesbian Other, understood in two senses; keep her identity safe and at the same time erase (or omit) it . Albricia means good news, the gift of good news of Lesbian deliverance. What interests me here is that this redemptive economy entails the idea of safeguarding. This is the first time we encounter what I wi l l call a process of closeting \u2014 the closet as a safe \u2014 understood here as what Butler might designate as \"radical concealment\" of a self's determination. Butler writes that \"the closet produces the promise of a disclosure that can, by definition, never come.\" She further suggests that this process can be understood as a kind of deferral, an \"infinite postponement of the disclosure of 'gayness'\" (Butler, 1991, 16). I am reading Butler here by intersecting her ideas with Farina's economy of salvation and the Derridean notion of \"save the name.\" For Butler , the disclosure of \"gayness\" can never be accomplished simply because, when a certain \"I\" \u2014 let's call it a Lesbian \"I am\" \u2014 attempts to determine itself, \"that which it excludes in order to make that determination remains constitutive of the determination itself.\" It follows that the statement, for example, \"I am a Lesbian,\" exceeds its determination, and even produces that very excess in and by the act which seeks to exhaust the semantic field of that \"I.\" In the act which would disclose the true and full content of that \"I,\" a certain radical concealment is thereby produced. For it is always finally unclear what is meant by invoking the lesbian-signifier, since its signification is always to some degree out of one's control, but only because its specificity can only be demarcated by exclusions that return to disrupt its claim to coherence. (Butler, 1991, 15) In a sense, with this concept of \"radical concealment\" Butler formulates the excess of a Lesbian or a gay \"I,\" the trespassing of this l imi t or ontological de-term-ination called \"Les-bian:\" this excess corresponds to what I have proposed as hyperlesbianism or lesbianism with-out lesbianism, a lesbianism infinitely postponed, \"closeted\" and saved (understood as both guarded and disappeared). This peculiar concealment or closeting implies self-171 withdrawal, or what Derrida calls one's retreat from oneself (Derrida, 1998b, 17). This is also the closet or safe which, although derived from a gay context, is no longer thinkable in the problematic and repressive terms of \"enclosure\" (see Butler 's critique of the closet as repression in \"Imitation and Gender Insubordination\"): it thwarts Farina's project of Albricia as an apocalyptic disclosing of a Lesbian presence. In general, it can be said that: 1) the closet I am constructing here is beyond the meta-physics of presence and the phenomenology of a self coming out and becoming visible. In saying this, I am trying to reject the problematics of \"coming out of the closet\" which, as Fuss suggests, is \"a movement into a metaphysics of presence, speech, cultural vis ibi l i ty\" (Fuss, 1991, 4). W i t h this invented closet there is no revelation of anyone and anything already constituted as such. We must remember that the as such is a phenomenological notion of light, revelation, i l lumination, self-determination as self-appearance. Opposed to this as such is the closet-safe, which signifies that nothing has happened yet, no one is known to be there to be revealed, seen or shown, identified and thus possessed as a delim-ited, presented given Other. M y reinvention of the closet here belongs to what Butler (after Spivak) designates as \"catachrestic operations: to use a proper name improperly\" (Butler, 1991, 16); that is, to use it in my context as a valvic codeword for something other. In a sense, this is also to save (guard and except\/exclude) the name \"closet,\" for although this term properly stems from gay experiences it is employed improperly and is even extended to signifying a threat (impasse) to all kinds of self-determination. Consequently, and even more radically as such a \"catachrestic\" invention, the closet is also the impossibility of heterosexuality and the impasse of all identification, of all instances of \"I am.\" 2) Taking into consideration Butler 's \"infinite postponement of the disclosure of 'gayness',\" I also amplify the meaning I am giving to this improper closet, by connecting it to the messianic. I do not think that Butler had this intention in mind, but let us recall that her \"radical concealment\" is \"the promise of a disclosure that can, by definition, never come.\" In my understanding, my (re)invention of this excessive closet is a hyperfeminist\/hyperlesbian promise of deferral, the not-yet of the \"lesbian\" that we await as a messiah to come, and whose coming is never assured or guaranteed. I cannot help but notice that even Butler, inadvertently perhaps, uses images of dissatisfied expectation when she refers to the con-172 cept of the closet: \"Curiously, it is the figure of the closet that produces this expectation ['the expectation of a fresh air and a light of i l lumination that never arrives'] and which guarantees its dissatisfaction\" (Butler, 1991, 16). In this sense, albricia is truly the good news of the coming of an other that never arrives or appears (as such, as presence), is never given, revealed or known in any sense, and is beyond any sort of delimitation. In fact, only on this condition is albricia good news for the lesbian and a gift of justice to \"her\" (to Mistral 's \"lesbianism\") and to any other. Albricia may be a messianic-democratic promise of deliverance against violence, the good news of safeguarding the other's alterity against any project of a final solution on the condition that we resist identifying the other and converting \"her\" into a term, a boundary we can control and patrol; only if \"her\" identity remains concealed from us for ever evading and escaping any project of \"her\" rehabilitation, (re)presentation, and possession. The justice I am suggesting is, in Derridean and Levinasian terms, the hyperlesbian justice of the ghcBst-strangev \"higher than rights\" (Llewelyn, 2000, 147), that never takes for granted demands for self-autonomy, self-affirmation, and inclusion, which, as we have seen, conceal a wish to return to repression and enclosure within the patriarch's \"homes.\" This is a justice that does not include the One, the exemplary person, that does not treat the other as a person, that is as \"personne, as a nobody\" (Llewelyn, 2000, 147). This is a justice beyond a self, beyond myself: a \"justice [that] does not include me in the equilibrium of its universality . . . \" Primary justice would be what de-limits the limits set by law. [Justice as] [a]n arrival and a future avenir, a-venir, advent, . . . would be an approaching with no determinate thing or person that approaches and no state other than the rottenness in the State . . . the perpetual state of time's being out of joint, perhaps never to be put right \u2014 or at best only to be put right, putatively brought to law, but still not contained by the justice by which law is exceeded. The emergence of perpetual peace would be the emergence of perpetual emergency. Crisis would again and again raise its ugly head. So that there could be no hope of politico-aesthetic exemplar sustaining undiluted hope for an odysseic homecoming through episodic crises of revolution or war. There would be, there must be, il faut, as Derrida is fond of saying, perpetual crisis and no peace of mind. (Llewelyn, 2000, 148) Hyperlesbian justice is not a Utopian idea, for it emerges as emergency, as the crisis of present (violent) structures, of the here and now, and demands change here and now. It 173 is the perpetual state of unpeace, within any of phallocracy's homes (whether its own or its reproductions and variations), accompanying all boundaries, borders and delimitations, \"so that there can be no hope of a politico-aesthetic exemplar sustaining undiluted hope for an odysseic homecoming,\" whether to Chile , to Chile's House of Letters of despots and (fore)fathers, or elsewhere, or as any homoiophylophilic return to oneself, to personne, to nobody. Unbeknownst perhaps to Farina, Albricia evokes a hyperlesbian justice to the other (a democratic justice, beyond and more radical than the return of democracy to Chile) that does not depend on Lesbian odysseic homecoming, or the arrival of a Lesbian presence at home, at any home that is s t i l l ruled by fathers and brothers or by anyone. On the contrary, this justice takes place outside of all existing, exclusionary \"homes,\" titles and real estates, and is expressed as the perpetual deferral of the other's advent in any place of domesticity or domestication. It is interesting that in the plural and with exclamation marks (written: jAlbricias!) al-bricia appears to be a congratulatory word expressing jubilat ion. In a Medieval context it was used as a form of greeting \u2014 a kind of Medieval jholal or hi \u2014 or as a form of welcome. 9 As the title of Farina's book, the word albricia is positioned on the cover as if it were the gate of the book, about to be opened. In fact, a bookcover in Spanish is called \"portada,\" a word related to \"puerta\" or door. Albricia has a salutatory place, a place of welcome. Albricia has Arabic roots which associate it wi th Medieval Spain and also with a specific Islamic as well as Catholic context. Corominas and Pascual tell us that albricia is related to bdsar or bdsara, an Arabic word meaning \"skin of the face\" (Corominas and Pascual, 1980, 123). Here I read it as implying that Farina's poetry is about to open the door to One face (exemplarily the Lesbian face) whose presence this text wishes to announce and reveal and welcome into Chile's House of Letters. Wri t ing about albricia, implying the welcome of a singular Other as a Lesbian face, I am reminded of other conceptualizations of hospitality based on the face, and in particular of Levinas's notion of the Other as the face that \"'faces me.' The other . . . is given ' in person' and . . . only in the face.\" In Levinas, Derrida writes: \"[t]he face is presence, ousia ... The face . . . expresses itself 174 offering itself in person\" (Derrida, 1978e, 100-1). In this light Farina's poetry seems to be exclusive and, in fact, operates no differently from the poetry of her forefathers that had displaced the lesbian in the first place, because it recognizes and is hospitable only to One face (exemplarily the Lesbian) that con-fronts us as presence. Farina's Lesbian (as she is constructed here) not only does not reject the violent acts of the male clan but also assumes them fully, to the point of becoming herself exactly as violent as this male clan was regarding the repudiation of her own lesbianism. One can take this a step further for there is another very disturbing aspect that underlies Farina's construction of the Lesbian as an exemplary and displacing agent. O n the one hand, this aspect implies that Farina's discourse re-affirms (by mirroring it) the repressive system responsible for the previous exclusion of the lesbian. On the other hand, and by logical consequence, the same re-affirmation or reproduction entails also that to a certain extent Farina's discourse accepts impl ic i t ly the exclusionary acts that such a violent system had effected upon its other(s), including those exclusionary acts it had effected upon the lesbian as such an otherl Ultimately, Farina's discourse ends up espousing indirectly not only the logic, but also the violent acts of that system. There can be no doubt that Farina's construction may \"have been elaborated for emancipatory purposes\" (Butler, 1990, 4). Bu t , as Butler cautions us, we need to consider the exclusions implici t in our representational politics or strategic constructions, \"for strategies always have meanings that exceed the purposes for which they are intended. In this case, exclusion itself might qualify as such an unintended yet consequential meaning\" (Butler, 1990, 4-5). Butler proposes (and I share her view) that \"[t]he identity of the feminist subject ought not to be the foundation of feminist [or queer] politics, i f the formation of the subject takes place within a field of power regularly buried through the assertion of that foundation. Perhaps, paradoxically, 'representation' wi l l be shown to make sense for feminism only when the subject of 'women' [or 'Lesbians'] is nowhere presumed\" (Butler, 1990, 6). To discuss yet another aspect related to the Lesbian's exemplary face in Farina's poetry, let us recall Butler 's argument that this Lesbian identity, this \"specificity can only be demarcated by exclusions that return to disrupt its claim to coherence\" and even its claim to presence. In other words, this \"I am this face\" \u2014 hospitable only to itself\u2014 is impossible 175 without those other faces on which it has slammed the door and barred the way. I am speaking of the Lesbian subject as impossible to pass as such an exclusionary agent. The Lesbian subject is ultimately impossible-impassable, that is, it resembles those that her unique face displaces. The same could be argued for Farifia's opponents with the face of patriarchs, who for a long time had denied lesbian access to their male club of Chilean letters. M y purpose here is not to repeat the exclusion of the lesbian, but to point to the paradox of all obvious or well-disguised exclusionary systems and discourses that are responsible for her repression, or \u2014 to paraphrase Mouffe's observation \u2014 construct a lesbian in subordination. As Butler emphasizes, it \"is the exclusion from ontology itself [that] become[s] [my] rallying point for resistance\" (Butler, 1991, 20). M y intention is radical in the sense that it attacks exclusion or ontology itself, and resists the confinement of the lesbian into such a violent system or ontology. This position is also radical because it remains always on the side of the displaced (and thus, also on the side of the lesbian when \"she\" is displaced) rather than on the side of the displacing agent. M y purpose is to stress that all impasses (all no pasard[s] and exclusions) are, as Butler argues, constitutive of all demarcation, including but not restricted to that of a Lesbian face. The hospitality that I am proposing as open to more than one face means to accept in us, and to become all those that any of us everyday displace. This welcome is so utterly hospitable to the other that it requires the death of oneself: not the presence or the resurrection of oneself, but one's mortification. Here I am impl ic i t ly referring to and exceeding albricia as resurrection, since according to Corominas and Pascual the word also named a religious procession on Easter Saturday, celebrating the resurrection of Christ or the Messiah (Corominas and Pascual, 1980, 122). This hospitality demands of us that we give the most impossible gift of welcome to the other (\"lesbian\"), that we give our own selves in infinite love to the other. This is \"the fathomless gift of a type of death\" (Derrida, 1995b, 48) of oneself which is goodness, albricia's good news itself. Beyond presence, bir th, rebirth, resurrection etc., albricia is the loss of oneself. It is to give oneself to the other, to die of\/for the other. I am not speaking of death in any literal sense. This death (also self-impasse) is \"the possibility of dying of the other or for the other. Such a death is not 176 given in the first instance as annihilation. It institutes responsibility as a putting-oneself -to-death, or offering-one's-death, that is, one's life, in the ethical dimension of sacrifice\" (Derrida, 1995b, 48). Like this other sense of albricia, as good, infinite love \u2014 like but also beyond homoerotic love \u2014 offered to the other, Farifia writes also of death. However, Farifia's death whispers cryptically this other hospitable and unconditional passion that means to abandon all titles and claims to oneself and to the proper face. I shall name such a passion absolute com-passion and examine it as \"death\" shortly. But before doing so, I wi l l read Gabriela Mistral 's poetic extract, cited at the beginning, at the welcoming gates of Farina's book, in terms of a messianic expectation always bound to be dissatisfied, at least as far as the disclosure of an exemplary Other, recognized as a \"Lesbian being,\" is concerned. Faithfully Waiting Till Dawn Messianism is vigilant attention to the other. It is a patient waiting upon the other that is not the waiting for any person or thing, but attente sans attendu. It is always already too late to wait, if to wait is to expect. John Llewelyn 1 0 Farina cites Mis t ra l at the opening of her book as if to welcome her lost (fore)mother back into Chile's House, and uncloset (reveal) her homosexuality. In Farifia's hands Mis t ra l is no longer a stranger. Recognized as a Lesbian, the Chilean poet Mis t ra l begins to belong somewhere. In fact, she assumes the same face as her host (Farifia) and acquires the habits of this place of domestication. In a k ind of selfish \"hospitality,\" Farina's own Lesbianism enacts the violation of Mistral 's lesbianism. Farina knows everything about Mis t ra l , her guest, because Mis t ra l is no longer Mis t ra l , but a mirror-copy of her host. What is more, Farina incorporates her guest, Mis t ra l , into the same violent structure or masculinist House \u2014 albeit inverted \u2014 that had repressed Mis t ra l in the first place. It is as if the host assimilated or consumed her guest. This is not a welcome to a stranger by which the host would offer everything (including her own self) as bread to her ghcest. This is house arrest of the other, Mistral 's otherness. The lesbian and Mis t ra l acquire once more a subordinate face, servile to Farina, as they were to fathers and brothers. Farifia is not given as a host to her ghcest, but instead receives, takes and possesses the other. I am using images of Eucharistic \"hospitality\" here, but stress that the hospitality I am advocating would rather have the host be given to be consumed by the ghcest than 177 the reverse. Note here that I continuously employ the passive rather than the active voice. As I said before, this \"hospitality\" is a (com)passion one suffers upon oneself, beyond an active taking, appropriating, consuming. This is a passivity rather than activity, at odds with the grammatico-ontological structure of Farina's poems, which supports a metaphysical Lesbian Being presented in the present tense, active voice, indicative mood and first person singular. (As the French might say, however, this first person singular \u2014 exemplary \u2014 might be personne, nobody.) The \"hospitality\" I am advocating is absolute generosity because it would rather have Farina's reproduction of the patriarch's home or homoiophylophilia be truly open, welcoming, given and giving to the other, so that the Lesbian self \"admits something other than herself,\" Mis t ra l remains Mis t ra l , her otherness remains a non-appropriable otherness, an absolute stranger: [This] hospitality [is] more ancient than the inhabitant himself [or herself]. As though the inhabitant himself were always staying in the inhabitant's home, the one who invites and receives truly begins by receiving hospitality from the guest to whom he thinks he is giving hospitality. It is as if in truth he were received by the one he thinks he is receiving. Wouldn't the consequences of this be infinite? What does receiving amount to? . . . It means to take upon oneself, in oneself, at home, with oneself, to receive, welcome, accept, and admit something other than oneself, the other than oneself. One can take it as a certain experience of hospitality, as the crossing of the threshold by the guest who must be at once called, desired, and expected, but also always free to come or not to come. (Derrida, 1993a, 10-11) What worries me about Farina's presumed hospitality is that Mis t ra l comes to Farina's \"home\" and is arrested. Mis t ra l is not free to come or not to come, and this is the prob-lem, for she is admitted only with her identity papers (Lesbian, Chilean, poet), approved, stamped, allowed to pass according to ontological standards and essentialist criteria estab-lished by the master of the home, or by the officers of Lesbianism. What are the official standards for one to qualify as a Lesbian? How does Farina \u2014 and the critics who have an interest in airing Mistral 's lesbianism out \u2014 know that Mis t ra l would enjoy this kind of policing of her sexuality, this kind of final solution? How do they know that Mis t ra l would have liked to pass from the possessive hands of one master (her male-dominated world) to the hands of another (Farina's so-called autonomous home, that is ultimately the same home of patriarchs)? How do they know that Mis t ra l would enjoy any mastery or belonging at all? Final ly, why must lesbianism be mastered and policed, identified and patrolled? W h y must Mistral 's , or any lesbianism for that matter, be forced to conform to already 178 existing (according to Grosz) heterosexual\/sexist or masculine ideals and parameters? For in the end the One which appropriates, masters and polices lesbianism is the same old heterosexual\/sexist, masculine or homophobic structure or home, the only difference being that this structure has changed face and name. As Derrida would say, \"at a distance from the main forum of feminist activity\" (Derrida, 1995d, 93), I am advocating a \"lesbian\" who is impossible to police, an unaffirmed les-bianism beyond any final solutions, a ghcest and strang(er), threatening to all homes and membership cards. I am saying that this hyperlesbianism is unaffirmed because it does not allow itself to be posed (and possessed), or circumscribed within already existing violent structures that promote the same exclusionary and heterosexist parameters or norms. This hyperlesbianism is able to threaten and interrupt such violent systems precisely because it remains unthought by, and unaffirmed wi thin, such structures. It is their excess and impasse. This is a lesbianism that, like Mis t ra l , we must be prepared to let go, to leave free to come or not to come. We must be prepared to let this lesbianism remain utterly un-finished, and impossible to imprison within obvious or disguised heteronormative \"homes.\" I am proposing a messianic lesbianism of the future, of the not-yet, of the a-venir, beyond Farina's determined, existing or present Lesbianism. This messianic lesbianism does not exist yet. It only insinuates itself, like Mistral ' s , always postponed but also hopeful, wait-ing for a \"lesbian\" messiah. It is the patient, passive and vigilant waiting, expressed in Mistral 's lines cited by Farifia at the opening of her book: \" 'Off, Oir , Ofr \/ la noche como valva, \/ con ijar de lebrel \/ o vista acornejada \/ y temblar y ser fiel \/ esperando hasta el a lba ' \" ( ' \"To listen, To listen, To listen \/ to the night like a valve, \/ with a greyhound flank \/ or a black as the raven's sight \/ and to tremble and be faithful \/ waiting t i l l dawn\" (7) . Hyperlesbianism is not a utopic lesbianism, \"insofar as . . . [such] conceptions [of Utopias] understand the future as a modality of presence\" (Critchley, 1999b, 154). The not yet of hyperlesbianism does not mean that such a \"lesbianism\" does not exist, and when I say that it is of the future, I am not using the word \"future\" in its common sense. The hyperlesbian future is happening here and now as a lapse in actuality, in the existing or present (heteronormative) structures. Hyperlesbianism must be thought of as a radical 179 hetaerogeneity (hetaerography), something like Derrida's trace or differance. Referring both to Derrida and Levinas, Critchley writes that this \"future\" (which I designate here as hyperlesbianism), is \"the coming apart of time, it is t ime as the punctual present falling out of phase with itself (\/e dephasage de I'instant) or the time of the lapse (le laps)\" (Critchley, 1999b, 155). Later, I wi l l elaborate further on hyperlesbianism as such a time of lapse which I wi l l call \"death\" or \"dead time.\" The lines from Mis t ra l cited by Farina at the beginning of her book lack any active verb and finish with a forceful gerund, \"waiting,\" expressing a continuous process of expectation. They are at odds wi th the rest of Farina's book, which is replete with active verbs in the first person singular and declaring a Lesbian auto-affirmation. This is also the first time we encounter the word valva or valve, to be discussed later. Mistral 's verses refuse any activity and are instead guided by constant infinitives (\"oir\" repeated three times, and \"temblar\" and \"ser\"). As we know, \"infinitives\" are named thus because they are \"not l imited to any person, number or tense\" (Webster, 1988, 692). Mistral 's infinitives have their faceless face, deaf and bl ind, turned towards the longed-for messiah whom we do not yet know as a l imi t , a de-term-ination in person, in tense, in number. How many messiahs are there? Certainly, Mistral 's infinitives do not calculate; this messiah is incalculable, and most of all \"she\" is beyond the singular, the unique or exemplary. The infinite patient waiting of an infinitival, that is, incalculable arrival, expressed as an excess of all de-finition or bounds, as endlessness, the infinit-ive also contrasting wi th the de-finitive. I am not sure that Farina is aware of the impact that Mistral 's citation might have on her own active verses, announcing a Lesbian presence. Farina's violent or assimilating gesture of \"welcome\" to Mis t ra l might even be challenged by the fact that Mistral 's verses \u2014 the very lesbian context of Farina's poetry \u2014 refuses to be part of Farina's rather appropriating hospitality. Mistral 's text, introduced as Farina's poetic lesbian tradition, is in fact an explosive context for Farina's own poetry. It is as if Mis t ra l were asking Farina to sti l l wait for her infinitely, patiently, without l imi t ing her into a singular, dis-solved person, a personne, a nobody. I am struck by Mistral 's messianic coming in a silent night. The night is like a valve. B y phonetic association, the word valva alludes to vulva. The word \"lebrel\" (or greyhound) 180 also has sexual connotations recalling the almost homophonic \"liebre\" (or hare), which is slang for vagina. 1 1 I read the word valva here as describing a fold, a door, a dark slot, a crypt or a \"closet\" inside which the ghcest, and even Mis t ra l , are kept uncertain, unknown, unanticipated, unaffirmed, unfinished, that is, safeguarded against any attempt at possession. This valvic crypt or crevice hiding an indeterminate ghcest is contained within Farina's poetry, that is, within the host, within a \"home\" that believes itself to have uncovered and presented the other (her guest, Mistral) as Lesbian. Farifia's poetry of Lesbian affirmation contains Mistral 's poetry of lesbian non-affirmation. Mistral 's verses announce no-one, but are a call to wait endlessly for an arrival. No subject or object of this arrival is announced or identified, and, as Mistral 's use of cryptic language and of infinitives suggests, there is no waiting subject whose identity is ever revealed. There is no one there either to wait or to arrive. The emphasis is placed upon the process of indefinite waiting and advent. The host (i.e. Farifia's presented Lesbian) keeps wi thin herself the unassured ghcest. This ghcest is understood here as the Lesbian's ontological not-yet, non-assurance, her self-encryption, her impasse. The host is, then, a \"closet,\" a crypt that hides within herself her own impassability. It is as if the host were an orifice opening \"herself\" into another cavity or \"pocket\" \u2014 one of valval meanings is \"fold\" \u2014 becoming thus an inferiority within another inferiority and being turned against \"herself.\" Farifia's Lesbian host is such a fold by which in herself the Lesbian is stolen or spirited away from herself. It is not coincidental, that the Greek word balanos (also male glands), associated etymologically with valva, is further linked to balantion. Balantion is a haversack, a sack which a thief uses to store stolen goods, and also signifies safe (Dormbarakis, 1995, 173). Valva here implies that the Lesbian self is simultaneously stolen away and kept safe: affirmed while not affirmed, at the same time possible and impossible. What happens here is that Mistral 's verses \u2014 the lesbian context of Farifia's work \u2014 have exactly the opposite effect on Farifia's text, which wanted to present, recover and affirm a Lesbian essence. The host therefore sustains within herself her own ciphering or erasure, her own non-passage or a^ fee. What this reading of Mistral 's citation in its relation to Farina's poetry gives us is that Farina's Lesbian is present when she is not yet possible, when her arrival is awaited. Farifia's Lesbian passes as such when she does not pass as 181 such. She is pronounced present while evaded, permitted while encrypted or forbidden. These two things, namely Lesbian affirmation and non-affirmation, happen simultaneously and exemplarily in One and the Same text (Farina's poetry), under the auspicies of One and the Same ontological category (the Lesbian). Note that I am saying that there is here both an affirmation and a non-affirmation of the Lesbian. What I imply with this is that both possibilities co-exist and must be accepted simultaneously, although they appear to form a paradox or contradict each other. One cannot therefore conclude that the text either asserts the Lesbian or disavows her. It does both simultaneously. To be more accurate, the identity of Lesbian is maintained while it is effaced (is saved while lost): in Derridean terms, it is put under erasure, written as LSs%i&fI. We are encountering here effects of inde-term-inacy and aporia, the effects of a valve which is a pocket, a closet, a l id , a plug that closes and opens, expressing passage as also and at the same time nonpassage. (Valva is evocative of Derrida's saying without saying and Koestenbaum's homosexuality as an open door that is at the same time closed.) Literally, a valve in music is also \"a device in certain brass instruments, as the trumpet, that opens (or closes) an auxiliary to the main tube, lengthening (or shortening) the air column and lowering (or raising) the pitch\" (Webster, 1988, 1474). Besides Mistral ' s citation, Farina adapts the word valva to describe a homoerotic encounter and to allude to \"vulva\" or female genitalia. In one of her poems she writes: \"Me refugia tu valva \/ su envoltura caliente\" (\"Your valve shelters me \/ in its warm fold,\" [33]). Before continuing to trace valva's significations, I wi l l recall the words of caution regard-ing the word expressed in the \" 'Methodological ' Notes\" of this chapter. This hyperlesbian \"term\" refers only minimal ly to human anatomy or to a biological essence called human, woman, or man. Valva must not be conflated with femininity or masculinity, heterosex-uality, bisexuality, homosexuality, transsexuality, androgyny, hermaphrodism, etc., just as Butler 's lesbian phallus is not the penis, and does not signify the masculine body or heterosexuality but transgresses al l of the above as \"a transferable phantasm . . . [whose] naturalized link to masculine morphology can be called into question through an aggressive reterritorialization\" (Butler, 1993, 86). W i t h the hyperlesbian \"term\" valva I refuse to re-assert (by exceeding it) Farina's problematic biologism or genitalism (Spivak's word, 1993, 182 197) that grounds a Lesbian essence based exemplarily on female (or human) anatomy. I find Farifia's biologism\/genitalism (privileging woman, the feminine, a female\/lesbian essence reduced to her vagina), no less problematic than discourses which privilege, and thus proclaim as superior, a racial essence defined in terms of the whiteness of skin, or those which favour and establish the supremacy of heterosexuality, maternal or reproduc-tive sexuality, masculinity, the womb or the penis, or the dominance of any class or race by virtue of its pure blood. A l l discourses based on biological determinism, are ultimately violent and imply the annihilation of the so-called inferior or less privileged sex\/uality, gender, class, race, etc. Biological determinism can only be pernicious to queer activism and to feminism in general, for it forces them to adapt, even to accept, the very language and exclusionary practices responsible for the repression and persecution or obliteration of gays, lesbians and women in the first place. Bypassing this biological determinism and Farifia's genitalism, the hyperlesbian \"term\" valva intersects human or animal, marine or plant-like, female or male organic aspects with non-organic, mechanical and other conceptual aspects. Bu t , what is important with the word valva \u2014 as with Derrida's \"hymen,\" which stands for the play of in-betweenness or undecidability \u2014 is not so much its etymology or its significations, but rather its aporetic play with all of these meanings. Valva is this play; it is another word for aporia. Valva comes from Lat in and originally signified door or \"leaf of a folding door . . . akin to volvere, to ro l l . \" It is a gate that regulates \"the flow of water in a sluice, channel, etc.,\" and in anatomy is \"a membranous fold or structure that permits body fluids to flow in one direction only, or opens or closes a tube. In botany it is used to describe \"any of the segments into which a pod or capsule separates when it bursts open;\" \"a lidlike part in some anthers, through which pollen is discharged;\" \"either of the boxlike halves forming the cell walls of a diatom.\" In mechanics it is \"any device in a pipe or tube that permits a flow in one direction only, or regulates the flow of whatever is in the pipe, by means of a flap, l id , plug, etc., acting to open or block passage.\" It is also such a flap, l i d , plug, etc. In zoology valve is \"each separate part making up the shell of a mollusk, barnacle, etc. . . . [or] any of the parts forming the sheath of an ovipositor in certain insects\" (Webster, 1988, 1474). 183 Valva and vulva are related through the common root volvere, to turn or to rol l . Interest-ingly enough, the term valva seems to be a distant relative of male anatomy through the Greek word balanos. Balanos is a type of crustacean (a mussel) and perhaps this is why sometimes we find metaphoric descriptions of female genitalia in terms of marine life or as shellfish. In one of Farina's metaphors the vagina is portrayed as a mollusk. Balanos is also a post or lever used to bar a gate denoting, in this case, non-passage. It is further another word for the male glands, any secreting organ, or duct, the tip of the penis. However, what I find fascinating about the word valva is that even etymologically it is associated with other terms that signify non-passage but also passage (path, way, threshold) and simul-taneously a line of both departure and arrival. Velos linked to valva is a departure point but also a terminus, end, l imi t , extremity, and forefront of a city wall (Dormbarakis, 1995, 173). Even through all these etymological connections it seems that valva is itself an undecidable term that is impossible to fix in any of its opposing meanings: either as something to open or close something else; or to permit or block passage; or as a starting off or an arrival point; or as a path or the end\/ l imit of such a path; or as a male or female organ, an organic or a mechanical device, or a part of human anatomy or insect, plant or marine life, etc. Although derived from a Lesbian text, valva could pass as anything at al l , including but also being irreducible to (male, animal and) female specificity within Farina's homoerotic context. Just like the Lesbian in this poetry, who is affirmed when she is evaded, so too valva \u2014 a term that ought to identify wi th the Lesbian, but does so only in a minimal sense \u2014 is its own and the Lesbian's impasse and impossibility. (In this sense, valva is also the impossibility of Farina's biologism\/genitalism.) There are two things I wish to convey by this observation: a) Valva is indeterminate; passing as anything, it can itself be its own l imi t : it can be put under erasure. In one of its meanings, for example, valva expresses both passage and nonpassage, but it is impossible to settle into either one. Valva contains in itself the polarity, but it does not (dis)solve it. The key-words here are that it contains both at once. Valva therefore expresses an aporia, an impossibility, an impasse. What I understand by this impasse-aporia is first of all that it exceeds, or is other, than the polarity passage\/nonpassage. Valva represents the effects 184 of im-passe \"which are 'predialectic,' in that they bring forward dialectic effects without being based on opposition\" (Hobson in another context, 1998, 172) and even exceed any opposition. In other words, valva is impassable or impossible because indeed one is here unable to move in any direction in a dialectical sense, to choose this or that, to (dis)solve the contradiction between two terms, to say for example that valva is male or female, heterosexual or bisexual, passage or non-passage and so on. One must remain with, and assume, the unresolved contradiction, choosing both terms at once, and this is why I call valva a tremendous impasse, one that makes one feel stuck, blocked and unable to move in any direction, here or there. Although Derrida does not speak in terms of valva but in terms of aporia or impasse in general, his words are pertinent to what I am trying to formulate within a Lesbian context by my evocation of the aporetic valve: \"[The] aporia, the impossible, the antinomy, or the contradiction, is a nonpassage because its elementary mil ieu does not allow for something that could be called passage, step, walk, gait, . . . a kinesis [movement] in general. There is no more path . . . The impasse itself would be impossible . . . [There would be] [n]o more movement or trajectory . . . \" (Derrida, 1993a, 20-1). To give another more concrete example relevant to Farina's poetry, one must accept both of the following possibilities: that the Lesbian is and is not. This is, in fact, the play which I have described between Farina's text and its \"context.\" Farifia's Lesbian presentation is given simultaneously through Mistral 's closeting or encryption of the lesbian. The lack of any movement in any direction implic i t in valva as nonpassage and dead end is also appropriate to Mistral 's verses that are ordered around the passivity of infinitives and a patient waiting. b) Valva represents the identity of the \"Lesbian\" that is maintained while exceeded. It conveys Lesbian identity as im-possible. Valva is an aporia that assumes the most im-possible thing, that admits both possibilities at once: a lesbianism with-out lesbianism, an excessive lesbianism that bypasses all oppositions and all of their dialectical de-term-inations and deadly (dis)solutions. Valva is a paradoxical and disconcerting moment of a hyperlesbian logic where one feels the impact of the deadlock of indeterminacy, as being impeded from choosing one over another , or as being forced to choose both. It follows that valva is at odds with any exemplarism of the One or its Other. Valva is the paradox, 185 the crisis of not being One inscribed within all \"essentialist\" or supposedly self-adequate \"boundaries\" or concepts, and is therefore the hyperlesbian democracy (the not yet) at the heart of all essences that fence themselves off against their other or close upon themselves as exclusionary borders. Paradoxically, I think that it is only through this valva or impasse, this infinitive or unfin-ished lesbianism, that lesbianism itself\u2014 or what Butler critically calls \"the queer\" \u2014 can begin, like Mis t ra l , to have faith that something other could come that would not signify its destruction. This other would no longer be an assured biological (genital), sexual, etc., essence and therefore would no longer be (dis)solved, discriminated against, persecuted, excluded, finished. Mis t ra l tells us to \"be faithful waiting t i l l dawn,\" because this other whom we cannot anticipate or know wi l l come, in the \"future\" and as \"future,\" but never as Farina's present that comes, or passes now: \"The coming or the future advent of the event would have no relation to the passage of what happens or comes to pass\" (Derrida, 1993a, 21). Mis t ra l even writes that while the arrival of this unknown ghcest is awaited, its imminent coming might fill one with anxiety and make \"her\" \/\"him\" tremble: \" ' T o listen, To listen, To listen \/ to the night like a valve, \/ . . . \/ and to tremble and be faithful \/ waiting t i l l dawn.\" W h y does Mis t ra l use the infinitive \"to tremble\" here? Mis t ra l in a sense warns Farina that what Farina expects and is so certain about might not fit at all wi th her expectations. It might take her by surprise, make her tremble and even shock her. The surprising or the shocking is the unforseeable and unrecognizable: an un-finished or un-(re)solved and traumatic lesbianism whose appearance might trouble us and make us feel uneasy. Such a lesbianism has even frightening connotations evoked by Mistral 's neologism \"acornejada\" (freely-translated as: \"black as the raven's\"). In Spanish Medieval literature \"corneja\" (crow or raven) was an i l l omen symbolizing death. We shall soon see that Farina also plays with death. Mistral 's traumatic lesbianism might even appear with the face of its others (and even more disturbingly, with a homophobic or heterosexual face. I am, of course, referring to moments when lesbians have worn the heterosexual\/sexist mask \u2014 and Mis t ra l is a case in point \u2014 in order precisely to safeguard themselves from homophobia and heterosexism). But what must be noted here is not how this lesbianism comes and 186 why it disturbs us. The significance of what I am attempting to say lies in the word \"might,\" expressing uncertainty, supposition, a future or a subjunctive possibility that never becomes a solution, an indicative solution of the here and now, of the actual, the established Lesbian as an essence or fact dictated or finished, measured and cut according to the criteria of the officials of certain queer theory reproducing phallocentrism, or Farina's indicative mood. This traumatic lesbianism wi l l make us tremble because it belongs to the future, subjunc-tive (im)possibilities of the \"might.\" In Mistral 's verses what is important is not what is revealed at the end (or as an end, a positive or negative term) but the infinite and faithful expectation \u2014 \"esperar\" in Spanish is both to wait and to hope \u2014 that what is awaited might or might not be disappointing. I am reading Mistral 's verses in terms of Derrida's \"secret,\" but I further want to radicalize this \"secret\" by extending it to (and at once exceeding) a gay or Hispanic context (and Farifia's), connecting it to the idea of the impossible closet and the double question of ^Entiendes?. As I understand them, the secret, the closet and the #Entiendes? are in a sense synonyms. They must also be thought of as inseparable from valva, denoting an infinitive or unfinished lesbianism. Like valva these terms are not taken literally and this is why one can say that the closet is without being one, the double $Entiendes? is without being one, the secret is without being one, as also in this chapter lesbianism is without being one. The three terms imply a messianic lesbianism in the future, infinitive, deferring sense of Mistral 's verses and the subjunctive of a \"perhaps\" latent in the gerund esperando (waiting, hoping). They are structural effects expressing lesbian passability and impassability, structural im-possibilities (in-determinacies) that, in Butler 's words, make al l \"ontological locales . . . [be] fundamentally uninhabitable\" (Butler, 1990, 146). Very briefly I wi l l summarize here what Derrida formulates as \"the secret,\" in order to pivot to the $Entiendes?, which is another name for the closet as the radical concealment of an ontological Lesbianism that is biologically or essentially determined. For Derrida the secret is tied to the messianic, to deferral in general, or to the Messiah that is coming, always incalculable, unknown, unaffirmed, incommunicable and even struc-187 turally im-possible\/im-passable. This is why Derrida often playfully writes that the secret comes as passion or as that which impassions us. What impassions us also is the surrep-ticious and postponed coming of the (hyper)lesbian Messiah, \"always coming and advent\" (Nancy does not speak here of the lesbian Messiah, but of a coming being; Nancy, 1992, 45). What I construct as a lesbian d-venir has a minimal relationship to literal homoerotic or orgasmic coming. This messianic coming of the lesbian is not assured as such. It is \"equal to . . . [her] infinite retreat\" (Nancy in a different context, 1992, 44) and insinuates here withdrawal or delay. It is the not yet of the lesbian, particularly when she is trans-formed \u2014 as by Farina, for instance \u2014 into an ontological or exemplary determination of homoerotic Otherness. I wi l l return to this passionate coming of the not-yet. The secret might appear in the form of the traumatic, implying simply self-difference or self-deferral which Derrida describes as a shock that makes us tremble. It is disquieting precisely because one never knows that one is other. One is never aware of the agonizing fact that oneself is always already different or other than oneself. Consequently, the trauma of one's own self-impasse remains concealed from oneself or is always a secret. The fact that one has always secretly received or been (the) other also implies the absolute hospitality whereby the host is always the ghcest. I have tried to express this by reading Mistral 's verses as haunting their host, that is, Farina's poetry. Derrida suggests: A secret always makes you tremble. Not simply quiver or shiver, which also happens some-times, but tremble. . . . [Tjrembling, at least as a signal or symptom, is something that has already taken place, as in the case of an earthquake . . . one when one trembles all over . . . [T]he event that makes one tremble portends and threatens still . It suggests that violence is going to break out again, that some traumatism will insist on being repeated. . . Most often we neither know what is coming upon us nor see its origin; it therefore remains a secret. We are afraid of the fear, we anguish over the anguish, and we tremble. We tremble in that strange repetition that ties an irrefutable past (a shock has been felt, a traumatism has already affected us) to a future that cannot be anticipated; anticipated but unpredictable; apprehended but, and this is why there is a future, apprehended precisely as unforseeable, unpredictable; approached as unapproachable. Even if one thinks one knows what is going to happen, the new instant of that happening remains untouched, still unaccessible, in fact unlivable. In the repetition of what still remains unpredictable, we tremble first of all because we don't know from which direction the shock came, whence it was given (whether a good surprise or a bad shock, sometimes a surprise received as a shock); and we tremble from not knowing, in the form of a double secret, whether it is going to continue, start again, insist, 188 be repeated: whether it wil l , how it wil l , where, when; and why this shock. (Derrida, 1995b, 53-4) The secret is non-knowledge, lack of assurance and radical concealment that safeguards the other and keeps \"her\" advent, unfinished, unprogrammable and thus inappropriable, as opposed to delimiting \"her\" within parameters of the possible or the passable, within parameters of the \"to pass as such\". W i t h i n this context of non-knowing, Derrida argues paradoxically that the secret is not a secret in the sense that it has nothing to disclose or to hide: It is in some way, a structural non-knowing . . . something in relation to which knowledge is out of the question . . . [I]t is a more ancient, more originary experience, if you will , of the secret . . . it is rather an experience that does not make itself available to information, that resists information and knowledge, and that immediately encrypts itself\" (Derrida, 1995g, 201). This secret, like the closet, has no ontological content it can disclose or make visible within a metaphysical, phenomenological or exemplary economy of discovering, unearthing a unique and calculable being. This is because the closet, or Derrida's secret, mean the original encryption, self-retreat and self-impasse that preceded and gave rise to all ontological determination, to al l constitution of being. In relationship to themselves, the closet or the secret remain concealed and mute or are self-withdrawn, impossible to know as such, that is, impossible to convert into another type of essence called \"concealment\" or \"absence.\" They cannot be celebrated as another de-limitation of Al ter i ty \u2014 for they are the excess of all delimitation \u2014 or as a solidified Difference that has proper attributes, that belongs to a category (in this instance, to the category of homosexuality) or is identified in any sense. They cannot be another sort of presence, whether this presence is Farifia's Lesbian in a Sapphistoric recuperation of absent figures made present, or is \"absence\" itself, glorified, assimilated and essentialized as such. This is what Derrida tells us of the crypt and of encryption in general, but one could easily substitute for the crypt with the secret or the closet: \"No crypt presents itself. The grounds . . . are so disposed as to disguise and hide: something always a body in some way. But also to disguise the act of hiding and to hide the disguise: the crypt hides as it holds\" (Derrida, 1977, 67). One could say that the secret, the crypt or the closet also veil and closet themselves (in the sense of being self-concealed 189 or self-effaced). Derrida maintains that the secret is a silent or unutterable non-response: \"[the secret] does not say 'I , the secret,' it does not correspond, it does not answer [repondre]: either for itself or to anyone else, before anyone or anything whatsoever. Absolute nonresponse which one could not even call to account or for something on account . . . (Derrida, 19951, 27). Let us recall that the $Entiendes? is a double interrogative, an equivocating password used among Spanish-speaking gays and lesbians that asks simultaneously the following: a) \"Do you understand?\" and b) \"Are you queer?\". I read the ^Entiendes? as the safeguarding non-response, the closeting or encryption of an ontologically or exemplarily defined Les-bian. The lEntiendes? is the messianic promise of Mistral 's subjunctive or unfinished (hyper)lesbianism in whose coming one must always keep faith. The ^ Entiendes? is about a lesbianism with-out lesbianism, which does not come as a fixed answer, a presentation or affirmation, a final solution that would signify the subjugation of the lesbian, or at least the reduction of her alterity into a resolved (and thus dissolved) positive or negative identity and a de-term-ined l imit one can possess. The $Entiendes? is the safeguard, the closet or the secret of the lesbian beyond knowledge and any theoretical, \"concrete,\" and pseudo-hospitable schemas of her incorporation or her return to the patriarch's \"home(s)\" and her rehabilitation. The $Entiendes? is bl ind and deaf passion: \"[t]he 'come!' that does not arise from a knower's unknowing, a 'docta' ignorantia, but a lover's unknowing, an ignorantia amans, not a learned but a loving, expectant unknowing, which keeps the fu-ture open by the passion of its love, its messianic yearning for what is 'to come'\" (Caputo, 1997a, 103). The other is the $Entiendes?: the wholly other, the ghcest or the unknown other that impassions us is a question, an equivocation. This other is an interrogation and what puts into question. \"She\" remains inaccessible and yet uncertain and thus always and infinitely loved. 190 Loving the (Hyperlesbian) Other Passionately Lengua as Valve or Death What comes from the other in love is no mere demand. In obedience to the imperative of dependency .. . [y]ou are no longer simply its hostage, but its lost traveller. Jean-Francois Lyota rd 1 2 So far I have discussed Mistral 's citation introducing Farina's book. How does Farina's own text construct Lesbian love towards the other? I wi l l attempt here to explore this question by reading the first untitled poem of Farina's Albricia. Farina begins her book with a peculiar voyage of active exploration and penetration, as if this journey were a description of death. The images which I wi l l cite immediately are acted out by a poetic subject metonymically reduced to a travelling tongue, in fact an all-encompassing one, that is used not only to taste and eat the other subject (presented also as tongue, body, etc.), but also to articulate \"her\" (speak \/or, or instead of, her), penetrate \"her\" in a deadly or wounding way \u2014 as we shall see \u2014 in order to possess \"her.\" This cannibalization in which a Lesbian subject consumes \"her\" other is evocative of Farina's Lesbianism appropriating Mistral 's lesbianism. The word lengua used in this poem signifies both language and tongue, and has carnivorous, oral and genital connotations. In referring to it I w i l l be employing both the Spanish lengua and the English \"tongue,\" thus retaining both the above significations. Farina writes: \" V I A J O E N M I L E N G U A \/ . . . \/ dos vocales O E \/ . . . \/ Adentro mas adentro de la cavidad sonora \/ tus vocales las mi'as \/ en el ronco gemido \/ . . . Adentro mas adentro llego hasta el estertor \/ al eco de otra lengua \/ L a camino \/ recorro la nostalgio la cerco . . . \" (\"I T R A V E L I N M Y T O N G U E \/ . . . \/ two vowels 0 E \/ . . . \/ I get inside I penetrate deeper into the sonorous cavity \/ your vowels mine \/ in the raucous moan \/ . . . I get inside I penetrate deeper I reach the death rattle \/ the echo of another tongue I walk it \/ I traverse it I long for it I besiege it . . . \" [9]). 1 3 This is a very intricate poem, because the homoerotic encounter is simultaneously portrayed as a linguistic encounter, even as poetic articulation of words. The poetic subject not only makes love with her lover, but also makes poetry. In a sense, Farina's poems are like Bellessi's eroics. We are witnessing a homoerotic scene between two lovers and also 191 between the poet and her (own) proper voice. Lengua and voz or voice are feminine in Spanish, and in Farifia's poem they also become lesbian. The poet repossesses her Lesbian tongue by writing of herself as a poet in an intimate homoerotic relationship with her own poetic language. In one sense, the poet makes love to her own tongue: \"Oral and genital drives are conflated in a language which stuffs mouths and muffs simultaneously\" (Chilsom, 1995, 30). Al lud ing to Irigaray's \"lips that speak together,\" Chilsom celebrates this linguistic genital reappropriation of the Lesbian as the \"cunning lingua\" of \"homo-erotic exchange in a language that never forgets its lips\" (Chilsom, 1995, 31). However, Farina's and Chilsom's repossession of the Lesbian through a biologism or genitalism linked to a (carnivorous, in Farifia's case) orality is based on an inverted phallologocentrism, reconstructed and celebrated exemplarily as clitoralphonocentrism or vulvarphonocentrism. Lugo-Ortiz argues something analogous in regard to the construction of a gay, outspoken subject: [Privileging orality as the voice of the 'margin ' . . . as a liberating source of communal identity through which a defined subject . . . reestablishes itself opens a wide range of questions: Who is this apparently preexistent defined subject which undertakes the uses of orality? How is it defined? Doesn't the phrase \"defined subject\" connote, to a large degree, notions of \"completion\" and \"fixation,\" which contradict the celebrated fluidity of orality? If there is a will to reaffirm a defined subject, what are the boundaries within which this subject establishes its identity? Who is the \"not-I\" of the community? What are the processes through which this is determined? (Lugo-Ortiz, 1995, 121). Reclaiming the Lesbian by recovering her voice as an all-encompassing or devouring tongue conforms with Farifia's enterprise in Albricia of Lesbian redemption and presentation un-derstood within phono-phallo-logocentric parameters, or within what Derrida calls the \"schema . . . [of] carnivorous vi r i l i ty . . . carno-phallogocentrism ... [as] 'becoming-subject of substance' \" (Derrida, 1995i, 280), of a proper Lesbian logos or speech. The idea implici t in Farifia's verses is that the Lesbian speaks out in her proper tongue and thus also comes out as identity, as a copyrighted voice, \"a veined articulation, a fingerprint (or larynxprint) impossible to steal\" (Koestenbaum, 1991, 205). No one can ever again inflict violence upon the Lesbian and she wi l l never suffer again those exclusions she endured during the era of her \"forefathers,\" if only \u2014 Farifia's story goes \u2014 she could speak loud enough to be heard and come out as presence. As we saw earlier, Fuss suggests that speaking and coming out return homosexuality, and in Farina's case the Lesbian, into the metaphysics of presence, 192 visibility, appearance, essence, identity, subjectivity, and so on, from which, in my view, the other in order to remain other truly ought to escape. Bu t , more importantly, Farina sends her Lesbian back to phallogocentrism (where the patriarch's law, and perhaps the Voice of the Father sti l l persist), and from whose House Farina's poetry and her Lesbian so desperately try \u2014 but at the end fail \u2014 to break free. Contrary to what Farina may believe, the lesbian and all alterity in general only stands a chance of avoiding violence, displacement and mastery when \"she\" retains her otherness outside of the Father's House; that is, when \"she\" refuses to become a mouthpiece, to reproduce and resonate \"his\" voice, and remains irreducible to presence, or any type of de-term-ination. In an inverted way, Farina's Lesbian is assimilated by the same phallic and ontotheological economy that insistantly strives to displace her. Farina's project is based on a biolo-gism\/genitalism or a genital-gender ideology of Lesbian \"voice\" where voice and language are defined according to biological criteria: the tongue, clitoris or vagina substitute for the phallus of the \"forefathers.\" Whi le asserting themselves as its counterpart, which now supposedly has the upper hand, they do so by employing the very phallic language respon-sible for the systematic exclusion of the lesbian and the loss of her own voice. Farina's Lesbian becomes mute once more, or else her voice becomes the amplifier (or mouthpiece) of the (fore)father's voice. Farina's so-called Lesbian language repeats, and even will ingly becomes, the homophobic language of \"her forefathers.\" How can Farina reclaim carno-phallo-phonocentrism, that is, recuperate the same system \u2014 albeit in reversed terms \u2014 that had deprived the lesbian of the possibility of speech, language (etc.) in the first place? How can Farina propose not only that system's perpetuation, but also the servile subjec-tion of the lesbian to it as its mirroring reproduction? Farina's speaking Lesbian assumes the \"traditional discourse of the philosophical pursuit of presence, Being, radical and unin-terrupted plenitude\" (Butler is critiquing a similar enterprise undertaken by W i t t i g , 1990, 118), as well as that discourse's violent language. Again , I am not rejecting lesbians here (if that were the case, I would have also rejected Mis t ra l as a lesbian or later, Eleno\/a 's sexuality, but this is not what I am doing), but rather critiquing Farina's problematic and ultimately polit ically ineffective (in my view) representation of lesbians. I am disconcerted, for instance, by the following paradox which contradicts Farina's well-193 meant, I am sure, Lesbian redemption project. On the one hand, Farifia's text tells us that in order to liberate her Lesbian this Lesbian must regain her subjectivity, her tongue, her voice. On the other hand, Farifia is more than wil l ing to let this subject (or the category of \"Lesbian lengua\") have her tongue back, but only by being \"herself\" portrayed as an all-encompassing, incorporating, indeed carnivorous-virile, masterful and violent phallic agent that renders \"her\" lover li terally speechless or even dead. This is also parallel to the fact that Farina's category of Lesbianism encompasses Mistral 's lesbianism, and in a sense renders i t \/her speechless. The allusions to an expansionist and vociferous Lesbian tongue exploring, penetrating, piercing and even conquering \u2014 the other here is a helpless and passive land \u2014 are completed by the images of an explored other as a voiceless throat emitting nothing but a death rattle: \"Adentro mas adentro llego hasta el estertor \/ al eco de otra lengua\" (\"I get inside I penetrate deeper I reach the death rattle \/ the echo of another tongue\"). If the lover (Farina's Lesbian subject) is the voice, the loved one is in the throes of death. The active verbs of the poem are in the present tense and first person singular (e.g. \"viajo,\" \"recorro,\" \"llego,\" \"adentro,\" etc.), and reinforce the activity of the subject and the image of a passive partner as a sonorous cavity transversed or lacerated by the poetic \"I\" and articulating a death rattle. Farifia delivers also this blow or death to Mis t ra l . Farina aims to abandon or subvert the problematic language and tropes of her so-called forefathers, but uses the same verbs and images of conquest, cannibalization of the other and death. Her verses are evocative of the love poetry of Pablo Neruda, Farifia's compatriot whom her generation rejects, in which a male active poetic subject explores a passive and voiceless woman-land (a dark continent). Neruda writes that making love is a journey: \"amar es un viaje . . . \/ . . . \/ Beso a beso recorro tu pequeho infmito, \/ tus margenes, tus rfos, tus pueblos diminutos \/ y el fuego genital transformado en delicia \/ corre por los delgados caminos de la sangre\" (\"to make love is a journey . . . \/ . . . \/ Kiss by kiss, I traverse your small infinity, \/ your borders, your rivers, your tiny villages \/ and the genital fire transformed into delight runs in the thin paths of blood;\" 1988, 44). In another poem Neruda tells us that his poetic subject has \"hambre\" or is hungry for his lover (42), and in yet another that the female lover becomes \"pan\" or bread which the subject devours: 194 \"Oh, pan tu frente, pan tus piernas, pan tu boca, \/ pan que devoro . . . \" (\"Oh, bread is your face, your legs, your mouth \/ bread that I devour . . . \" [46]). Farina's violent images that conflate the beloved's words or the poem's words with the throes of death are also reminiscent of other even more disturbing images of orality coming from the Mexican Octavio Paz's poetry. In Farina's verses the other's (the other beloved's or the lesbian's) words might be death throes; in one of Paz's poems, poetic words are even more alarmingly transformed into gamebirds, women or whores (\"palabras\" is feminine in Spanish) whom the male poet rapes, whips, castrates, strangles, disembowels, plucks, cooks, etc. (To my knowledge no critic has ever seen Paz's misogynous and sadistic poem as actually glorifying, even promoting such an extreme violence and destruction of women through the image of \"la palabra\" or the poetic word.) \"Dales la vuelta \/ cogelas del rabo (chillen, putas), \/ azotalas, \/ dales azucar en la boca a las rejegas, \/ inflalas, globos, pmchalas, \/ sorbeles sangre y tuetanos, \/ secalas, \/ capalas, \/ pi'salas, gallo galante, \/ tuerceles el gaznate, cocinero, \/ desplumalas, \/ destripalas, toro, \/ buey, arrastralas, \/ hazlas, poeta, \/ haz que se traguen todas sus palabras\" (\"Turn them over, \/ catch them from their tai l (whores, scream) [\"coger\" is also \"to fuck\"], \/ whip them, \/ give sugar to the wild ones, \/ inflate them, globes [slang for breasts], pinch them, \/ suck up their blood and marrow, \/ dry them, \/ castrate them, \/ step on them, you, gallant master [cock], \/ twist their gullet, you, cook, \/ pluck them, \/ disembowel them, you, bul l , \/ ox, haul them, \/ poet make them, \/ make words to be swallowed;\" 1990, 59-60). M y purpose here is not to discuss the intertextuality of Farina's poetry. I have only mentioned Neruda's and Paz's verses because Farina's poem of a travelling, carnivorous and encompassing subject-tongue besieging (Farina's word) \"her\" passive and silent beloved other (portrayed as a death rattle) seems to repeat some of the violent imagery of her predecessors. Farina and Neruda sti l l use a mi ld \u2014 so to speak \u2014 form of aggressive subjectivity expressed through the first person singular, present tense and indicative mood, in contrast to Octavio Paz's subjecthood which violates and acts through the forceful imperative mood, the commanding mood of the master. I prefer Mistral 's hyperlesbian cancellation of al l subjecthood and mastery, where the infinitives and the subjunctive of her verses represent for me the end, or impasse-impossibility, of all this aggressivity, mastery 195 and violence. To return to Farina's Lesbian tongue, Koestenbaum writes about voice: Voice commentators describe the larynx as labial . . . The larynx . . . is \"feminine.\" . . . Weer . . . characterizes the larynx as \"two thick membranes,\" \"two lips\" like shutters, lying horizontally, with their opening running from front to back. The opening between these lips is called \"glottis\" . . . [The] voice [is often described by singers] as full of mucus . . . or as tightly tensed . . . (Koestenbaum, 1991, 212). Farina's Lesbian voice is like Irigaray's Woman's lips, full of mucus. In fact, Farifia alludes to it as full of \"aguas\" or waters, another metaphor l inking saliva, linguistic emission or poetic vocalization (see \"dos vocales 0 E\") and orgasmic secretions. Farina loves and salivates (in) her poems. She produces them as words, as saliva, as orgasmic flow. But Farifia's labial and vociferous larynx is also a wounding dagger plunged deep into the throat of the other. It signifies a subject's poetic or seminal in-spiration as the other's ex-piration, death and muteness. In all its phono-phallo-logocentric splendor, Farifia's Lesbian subject speaks while her other remains silent, dead. The other remains as speechless and voiceless as were the lesbians (and even Mistral) under the phallocratic regime of the forefathers whose violence, supposedly, Farina comes to counteract, but instead reproduces. Farina's Lesbian subject believes that \"she\" acts against her exclusions, by acting as an exclusionary and deadly subject herself. She restores to herself speech, presence, life, person, the first person singular \u2014 understood as exemplary, unique \u2014 by rendering her other (and Mistral) aphonic, and according to this poem's own contradictory premises, leaving her for dead. This is how deadly Farina's Lesbian love for the other is and this is how Farifia loves unconditionally, and at any cost (at the other's cost) her beloved, the other lesbian, and Mis t ra l as another lesbian. Farina's Lesbian lengua is the song of Narcissus contemplating herself in the mucus or waters of its own voice, her poetry. It is the song of a Lesbian amour-propre pronouncing a death sentence of impasse on her other. I have already given this amour-propre the names of exemplarism, homoiophylophilia, the \"essentialist\" delimitation of Difference and of Alteri ty, and so on, as opposed to hyperlesbianism as \"democracy\" (and to its \"subjunctive or infinitive\" figure \"Mistral\") and I wi l l not therefore pursue again here a justification of these terms. I recall these 196 economies simply to keep them in mind as I discuss Farina's questionable enterprise of Lesbian subjectivity. I wi l l now proceed with deconstructing this violent and traumatic subjecthood, this deadly passion of the other's no pasard. In this case, the words \"the other\" refer to what the poem explicit ly identifies as the loved one, and another lesbian, even Mis t ra l ; or, more importantly and exceeding this identification, to any other, the wholly other, the stranger ghcest. Earlier I tried to expose and move beyond Farina's spurious welcome and suggested another type of radical hospitality, an extreme or infinite love: the passion of suffering one's own death, as the loss of self. Again, death here is not to be taken literally as dying or ki l l ing. In fact, it is from this l imit or edge called death that there sti l l might be some hope that al l the prohibitions and displacements effected by Farina's exemplary and carnivorous agent and by any exclusionary subject whatsoever can come to a halt, or be themselves prohibited. I am using a vocabulary of suspension, prohibition, stoppage, non-passage, or interruption, evocative of the meanings I have given to the word valva. Valva, an other which is more originary than Farina's Lesbian represents a syncope and even a death spasm: it forbids the violence of the unique, and therefore the exemplary agent's acts to exclude its other. In this sense, valva is the impasse of impasse, understood as follows: valva is the ceasing or the coming to a l imit of all violence, the dead end of all displacement, it equals suffering one's own dead end or impassability. Valva is com-passion and infinit-ive love beyond self-love. Such a com-passion or infinite love is a synonym for what I have designated as hyperlesbianism. I wi l l approach this hyperlesbian com-passion or passivity gradually, by reading Farina's Lesbian presence or subject, which is treating \"her\" other as death, against \"herself.\" In fact, the other's death and the other as death \u2014 as they are portrayed in this poem \u2014 are what supply my deconstructive reading of such an encompassing Lesbian subject. (Again, the other of the Lesbian subject might be another lesbian, a lover, etc., but identifying her as such is not the point. M y point is precisely to express the impasse of all identification.) It is curious that Farina describes her poetic, homoerotic encounter in terms of a journey. It is true that one might find Farina's unpalatable images of incorporation and conquest of the other provocative (as I did earlier), but perhaps these very images might be what 197 cancels out Farina's ultimately violent and violating approach to the other and to other lesbians. For it might also be that Farifia's assimilating Lesbian subject, in all \"her\" aggressive orality, is taking \"her\" final journey, marching straight to \"her\" other, which is \"her\" own death. To conquer the other is to conquer one's own death. It is one's own self-prohibition, the valva of a self-deadlock. Let us examine this journey closely. In Farina's poem there is a constant movement of crossing undertaken by the poetic \"I\" or its tongue. In Greek, crossing or passage is perasma, a word related to aporia. Farina's journey is, or wants to express (vouloir-dire) an erotic encounter. Instead, it is described as if it were a voyage to the other side, a passage to death, as if this \"I\" were in transit, leaving its ever present self and going to meet, not a loved one, but its own death. It is even imagined as navigation, recalling the well known Greek myth of Charon, the boatman of death transporting his victims across the river Styx to the underworld of Hades. The poem is scattered with marine images of traps, l imits , borders, obstacles and dead ends. Thus, although the subject or the tongue are active, they are in a sense also halted. They become \"arena pantanosa\" or \"marshy sand,\" \"borders\" or \"edges,\" \"arenilla dormida\" or \"sleepy gravel,\" and an anchor to valves, or to use the exact metaphor of the poem, mollusks which are types of b\\-valves. Farina says: \"Me aferro a mis moluscos\" (\"I anchor to my mollusks\"). Now, the other side (or the loved one) is exactly like a halting point or an impasse. It has the form of all the above obstacles; it has the form of death or of valve, and is portrayed as death rattle (\"estertor\"), echo (\"eco de otra lengua\"), resonance or \"sonorous cavity.\" \"[C]avidad sonora\" is almost evocative of a valley or a cavern of death, empty and echoing where the poetic self returns back to itself as its own echo; that is, as a deadly ghcest or a phantasm of its own self. I wi l l bypass here Farifia's questionable phallologocentric (in a sense Platonic) portrayal of the loved other as a deadly cavern, as \"Woman-death-womb-tomb\" (Bronfen, 1992, 67). I wi l l exceed this image through a different path, by speaking of a death that is beyond recognition, proper neither to woman nor to man (to humans, etc.), neither to lesbianism nor to heterosexuality, and is in fact the deadly valve, the very impasse of all such gender or sexuality-based determinations. To return to Farifia's poem, I want at this point to discuss the Lesbian subject as \"she\" 198 metonymically becomes \"her\" travelling tongue. As I have said, there is a genital-oral as-sociation here where the tongue that articulates and salivates the poem \u2014 Farina uses the word \"vocal\" to refer to such an erotic-linguistic vocalization \u2014 is also an image either of the vulva or of the clitoris. However, the tongue is understood here, both poem and loved one are mouthed and told. (I use the word \"mouthed\" to imply that the beloved \u2014 like the poem \u2014 is silent and becomes the words spoken by the subject, is caressed or kissed by this subject's tongue or lips, becomes a mouthful eaten by the carnivorous poetic \"I\" and is also transformed into a mouthpiece, amplifying or satisfying the devouring orality of the poetic \"I.\" Mouth-piece also conveys the idea that the beloved becomes the \"I's\" resonance and its food or language morsel.) Mazzio provides us with an analogous repre-sentation of vocalizing, and in particular of narrating, through genital-lingual conflation: \"The physiology of genital and lingual 'di lat ion' provides a striking analogue to the activity of narration itself ('to dilate' means both 'to enlarge' and . . . to amplify, to tell)\" (Mazzio, 1997, 59). Nonetheless, what is important to note in regard to Farina's tongue is that just as the subject is a traveler, so too \"her\" lengua becomes an emigree (Mazzio's word), or rather a deadly ferry, as if, indeed, it were death's ford: \"Penetro las papilas \/ Adentro mas adentro llego hasta el estertor \/ al eco de otra lengua\" ( \" I penetrate the papilae \/ I get inside I penetrate deeper I reach the death rattle \/ the echo of another tongue\"). The Greek word for this ferry is perama, another term etymologically related to aporia. In fact, lengua might itself be this aporia as impasse, valva or death. The allusion to the tongue as a ferry is perhaps possible because of visual analogy in which the organ of speech resembles a boat travelling in and out the mouth (a sonorous cavity) and salivating speech. I cannot resist another association that comes to mind: the lengua as a deadly ferry reminds me of another type of transportation attributed to language, namely, the use of metaphor which may be thought of as the death of l iving speech, meaning, reference, self-presence, identity, etc.: \"Metaphor . . . always carries . . . death within itself\" (Derrida, 1982b, 271). Metaphor comes from meta-pherein and pherein is related to ferry: metaphor is a means of passage to the other (side), to death. I read Farina's lengua as ferry also to insinuate death and trans-ferral, and dii-ferance in general, as the not-yet of this poem's aggressive Lesbian subject and its proper tongue. Lengua as ferry implies self-deferral or self-difference (i.e. to 199 be oneself while being other, an echo, a phantasm, a meta-phor) and is therefore in certain respects connected to differance. This is the valvic self-prohibition, the dead-end or self-detour within all self-proclaimed subjecthoocl and its proper language, here exemplarily given as Lesbian. This is \"the scope [portee] of any ferance, of any reference as differance\" (Derrida, 1998a, 26). The other side, which is also identified in the poem as the other tongue (see \"otra lengua\"), is imagined to be a death rattle, which the subject-tongue reaches. In fact, the subject-language becomes itself a death spasm: there is a constant equivocation in the poem between the identity of these two different languages, as they become inseparable. This equivocation is accomplished through certain verses that contain references to both lan-guages, but without any verbal indication or activity attributed to either one and without commas that could establish their separation. Such verses are, for example, the following: \"dos vocales 0 E , \" \"tus vocales las mfas,\" \"y tu lengua mi lengua.\" (\"two vowels 0 E , \" \"your vowels mine,\" \"and your tongue my tongue,\" respectively; \"y tu lengua mi lengua\" is the last, and in my view most significant verse of this poem and wi l l be discussed below). In grammatico-syntactical terms, at least, one tongue becomes the other, passes as its other (that is, as a death spasm), is the other, is the \"echo of the other tongue.\" Farifia's tongue passes as the other and passes on. Derrida might say that this is \"my tongue\" as \"the language of the other\" (Derrida, 1998a, 25) coming from the other, addressing the other. This is my language which is not mine. The phrase anticipates hyperethical questions linked to what I have called hyperlesbianism or lesbianism with-out lesbianism. I am interested in Farifia's tongue being hospitable to an-other as a death throe. Farifia's subject-lengua expressed as self-presence or as \"l iving presence . . . [and] l iving speech\" (Derrida, 1996, 10) becomes in effect the crypt or the closet of its other. This is a moment of radical hospitality analogous to the one I described in regard to Mistral 's verses in their relationship to Farifia's book. Farifia's subject-Zengua, l iving presence and l iving word, is like a coffin (valva): \"she\" contains within herself the other side, death. This subject is a l iving presence because \"she\" happens like death, like impasse or self-impossibility, which is death (in the special sense of this word as self-suspension). \"She\" resonates through another tongue and becomes an echo, a phantasm, 200 a ghcest. \"She\" is the other, or \"she\" is dead when \"she\" does not even know it , for \"she\" st i l l continues behaving as if \"she\" were \"herself,\" one, intact: \"she\" sti l l continues to posit herself as a singular aggressive \"I,\" in the present tense, in a here and now. Farifia's subject does not see \"her\" own death, \"her\" own impasse (coming). \"She\" is while being prohibited and suspended. \"She\" is a tongue (with all the oral-genital connotations this word has in the poem) that is short of breath. \"She\" occurs as a spasm of death, as a death rattle. Lacoue-Labarthe points out that poetry \"occurs where language, contrary to all expec-tations gives way . . . when speaking (discoursing) is about to continue and someone, suddenly free, forbids what was to be said. When a word occurs in the pure suspension of speech. Poetry is the spasm or syncope of language\" (Lacoue-Labarthe, 1999, 49). This syncopation of language, which is to say without being able to say and happens almost like the told-untold secret of homosexuality, is evocative of what I have designated as valva, passage as nonpassage, closeting or encryption. In the way I am reading Farina's poem, such a spasm of death or syncope is not only relevant to the question of poetic language, or to Farifia's genital-oral tongue; it also concerns the subject of the poem, whether this is seen as the poetic \"I\" or a Lesbian consciousness. The gift of tongue as a death throe is a gift of death for whatever or whomever in this poem assumes a present \"I,\" comes out and speaks out as a self. This self is forbidden, impassable. To be more accurate: this self is passable when it is impassable, told when untold. Again , this is a relationship in which the Lesbian is affirmed when she is not affirmed, a relationship I have tried to articulate in the aporia: lesbianism with-out lesbianism. Farifia writes: \"Penetro las papilas \/ Adentro mas adentro llego hasta el estertor \/ al eco de otra lengua\" (\"I penetrate the papillae \/ I get inside I penetrate deeper I reach the death rattle \/ the echo of another tongue\"). Perhaps this is simply an erotic image of kissing, but the words of death with which it is expressed are sti l l striking: \"I penetrate,\" Farifia says. Derrida relates the word \"to penetrate\" with a journey of death. This is a voyage of death undertaken by an \"I\" rather than a \"you.\" In Greek to penetrate is perao, another word etymologically associated with aporia. Derrida tells us: \"I penetrate (Aeschylus, for example, says: perao, a place or a country, eis khoran), I traverse by 201 penetrating, I cross through, I cross over life's term terma ton biou, for example\" (Derrida, 1993a, 7). In Farina's poem, what is called the \"other tongue\" is indeed conceptualized like a landscape, a country which the subject penetrates or explores. It must not be forgotten that everything occurs in the here and now, in active voice and indicative mood. The point of departure is the subject, or let us say that we see everything from the point of view of the poetic \"I.\" It could not have been otherwise. Derrida argues that: \"it is by always starting from the idiomatic l iving presence, the hereness of my language, my culture, and my belongings that I relate myself to the difference of the over there\" (Derrida, 1993a, 52). It is by always starting from the hereness of my sexuality that I relate myself to the difference of the over there. What this means is that difference or alterity originate within myself within this l imi t or the term that my own self is. Because I am here and am myself while being over there, while being entirely other than myself, I am unable to recognize and be aware of the fact that I am other. I am no longer able to know consciously my own impossibility, my impasse or death. I cannot know that I, myself, have been suspended or am a death spasm. I am a closet, a crypt of the other, I hide in myself my own impasse. This is why in Farina's poem the \"I\" cannot see its own impossibili ty: the \"I\" cannot look over there, see the other landscape which is the subject's own death. This is how Farina puts it: \"Que sintaxis Que paisajes que mis ojos no vieron\" (\"What syntaxes, what landscapes that my eyes did not see\"). The here and now of myselfness is a delimitation and simply describes the (ph)allocentric or ontological economies of homoiophylophilia (myself at home with myself) and exem-plarism centered around my own subjectivity, my own identity, my own sexuality, my own language and so on'. Now, i f such a homoiophylophilia is grounded in Farina's poetry in the essentialist category of a Lesbian subject it seems to me that Farina's \"I\" (as I read it above) longs for, explores, traverses, conquers, besieges \u2014 all these verbs are Farina's \u2014 nothing and no one else's but her own valva. \"She\" explores and conquers her own self-limitation and impassability. Once more, the homoiophylophilic Lesbian self is para-doxically opened in absolute hospitality to the ghcest or to the other. Here the ghcest or the other are not what the poem identifies as the other tongue or the loved one (the partner). They mean alterity and difference in general: I-am-myself-as-other. They indicate that a 202 Lesbian or any \"identity . . . can only affirm itself as identity to itself by opening itself to the hospitality of a difference from itself or of a difference with itself. Condit ion of the self, such a difference from and with itself would then be its very thing, the pragma of its pragmatics: the stranger at home, the invited or the one who is called\" (Derrida, 1993a, 10). Farina's Lesbian subject-tongue, in her death spasms, reaches for the ghcest and appeals to the other with the most unconditional love: it dies for\/of the other. Absolute Corn-Passion or the \"Ethics\" of Hyperlesbianism Dead-immortal. Perhaps ecstasy. Rather the feeling of compassion for suffering humanity, the happiness of not being immortal or eternal. Maurice Blanchot14 In this section I want mainly to discuss a certain \"positive\" idea of passivity \u2014 evoked in other words as hyperlesbian love and passion \u2014 that my reading of Farifia's verses constantly produces. This passion originates in Farifia's text and recalls Lesbian love as it is expressed in the poem I am analyzing; but it also goes beyond homoerotic passion, in that it implies a traumatic passivity, the loss of al l selfhood, including the mortification of Farina's construction of an aggressive \"Lesbian self.\" This radical passivity connects the question of sexuality with the ethical and the poli t ical , since it evokes polit ical experiences of non-passage. It is related to what I call a messianic lesbianism or hyperlesbianism centered around the im-passable or the not-yet figure of Farifia's essentialist Lesbian. It is suffering one's own end, one's own otherness to oneself and is, therefore, foreign to all violent exemplarism and homoiophylophilia of the unique. It is an originary unpowering or vulnerability of a self offered to its other, and therefore it exceeds al l idea of activity and of agency in general, and presupposes the acting subject. This does not deny the possibility of agency. This radical passivity is a structural passivity or undecidability preceding the polarity of passive\/active and being constitutive of both. It is therefore the structural possibility of agency but not its cancellation. To begin elaborating on what I designate as radical or hyperlesbian com-passion, I wi l l 203 cite Derrida writing on the death of the other as constitutive of \"myself\" or of the \"who I am:\" \"Even before the death of the other, the inscription in me of her or his mortali ty constitutes me. I mourn therefore I am, I am \u2014 dead with the death of the other, my relation to myself is first of al l plunged into mourning . . . \" (Derrida, 1995e, 321). Let us leave aside the idea of \"mourning myself.\" What is of great interest here, as we have also seen in Farina's poem, is that I am the death of the other, her\/his final spasm. The spasm here is another word for my syncopation (my \"I cease to exist\"), valvic impasse or self-deferral. The mortality of self described in these lines has a minimal relationship with actual, traumatic experiences of death \u2014 any infliction of death, genocide, the brutal obliteration of populations, the massive extermination of people, individual assassinations or collective murders, including but not exclusively reducible to the elimination, killings, gay-bashings, blows to and persecutions of homosexuals. If one wanted to use Levinasian language here, one could say: I am death like any other's death, or I am persecuted by the other and by the other's death. I have alluded to this relation to self through hetaerography, entailing a self-as-being-hostage-to-the-other. In Levinasian terms this is an absolute passivity \"more passive than all passivity\" in which: I could say of myself, though not on behalf of any other self, je suis, done Vautre me poursuit, or je vis, done je suis poursuivi: I am or I live, therefore the other persecutes me up to my death. Readers unwilling to follow Levinas right up to this violent extreme should consider whether he sees the violence of this doctrine as the only way by which greater or worse violence can be forestalled\" (Llewelyn, 1995, 199-200). The violence that can be averted \u2014 and such a prevention is another type of impasse where violence itself suffers passively its own impossibility \u2014 is al l actions of exclusions and death that accompany determinations of self as egolatry and as exemplarism. Keenan expresses this Levinasian persecution (or accusation: I am, perpetually accused by the other) using the extreme image of the gun: \"The gun figures not . . . the other human, nor someone or something (name, power, interest, appeal)\" (Keenan, 1997, 19). The gun here is the valve of pressure exerted upon al l selfhood and all identification; it is the pressure of alterity that immobilizes me. Deliberately, my image is also meant to evoke poli t ical executions \u2014 including those attributed to Pinochet's mil i tary regime \u2014 where the other that stands up against the wall and is about to be shot to death faces me, haunts me, blames me for her\/his death and calls me to responsibility (which I never manage to fulfill). This is an image of relentlessly persecuting all exemplarism. I am forever traumatized by the other's 204 death, by the disappeared others, by Cuba's gays in concentration camps, by the lesbian's bashings, her\/his beatings and being left for dead down the street; I am \"burdened like Sisiphus with a never fulfilled responsibility that throws the life of the mind into a condition of perpetual unpeace\" (Llewelyn, 2000, 149), of bad conscience, of always being guilty. This valve of pressure resembles Farina's all-encompassing, active and outspoken subject-hood marching to \"her\" passion, to death, becoming death, being stopped at \"marshy sand;\" it resembles Farina's tongue becoming death's ferry, a deadly throe. It is this tongue being pronounced as death or becoming a sentence of death, the subject subjected to the pressure of what is other in \"herself.\" In radical passivity, in death, the self is a death spasm, a trauma. As Wal l points out, radical passivity means that a self suffers itself. It is a wound that does not heal. Before myself, prior to any desire to be, anterior to any objectivity, to any distance or any time \u2014 literally ex nihilo \u2014 the self happens to me. The self, the ipse, the who that I am (as opposed to the what) is formed. It is made, fashioned, begotten, willed, fictioned. Using the language of Levinas, it is wounded and persecuted. The Other has access to me before I do. In-myself, I am a weakness and a dependency. .. The ego proper \u2014 the formed, bounded, healthy, articulated identity \u2014 is not its own. It receives itself from without itself (in every sense). Anterior to being-formed it is not. It is It \u2014 no one, nothing. Its self is borrowed . . . from others . . . The oneself itself is no one (singular and undifferentiated) who is someone [or something] (a self, but a borrowed or stolen one \u2014 a someone Other . . .) . Autrement qu' etre is the being-formed, or the vulnerability to the Other, \"older\" than the ego and always just prior to any self-presence. (Wall, 1999, 41-2) Note that here there is a transition from thinking passivity and death (and any actual other's suffering or death) in their li teral sense to conceptualizing them in terms of the construction of selfhood. This is nothing but repeating a deconstructive process whereby a new \"concept\" is created which is simultaneously the affirmation and also the excess of its old signification. In the specific case of Farina this is what I described at the beginning of this chapter as the process of a volver-dire based on a valva that closets, encrypts, alters or in a hyperlesbian sense, affirms without affirming what Farina's text proposes as a Lesbian subject, the other as death, homoerotic passion, coming, etc. According to this transition, then, I am articulating the constitution of all selfhood, including Farina's Lesbian subjec-tivity, that takes place in terms of utter selflessness, radical passivity, or in other words, as a passivite a mort. Hyperlesbianism is vulnerability to the other, powerlessness, a passivite a mort. Being passive in death means that: \"The self is no one, nothing \u2014 already both with and without rapport with the Other\" (Wall , 1999, 45). It means that I am while I 205 am no one (and what is more, I am unaware of my nothingness). I am impassable and this impassability is a lapse, in selfhood that is constitutive of my own subjectivity. I have referred earlier to this lapse connecting it to the not-yet of hyperlesbianism while arguing against hyperlesbianism's conflation with a utopia. Wal l points out that: As a result of its originary passivity, of its being formed, the self is delayed \"behind\" itself. But, as it is nothing other than its passivity, we must conceive of the self as delay itself. . . [T]he temporality of the self is without a present. As modeled or doubled or echoed from the Other, the self is \"originally\" a recurrence to self. The delay is, in the language of ethics, an originary politesse, or an \"after you, sir.\" The self is belated, behind the Other and answering to the Other who precedes it. Ex nihilo I respond to the Other before even hearing the Other, before recognizing the Other as other. I am thus indistinguishable from that Other. (Wall, 1999, 46) When any exemplary subject suffers the other \"the sufferer [subject] is not other-than-I, is not alter ego\" (Wall , 1999, 47). The relationship is not dialectical, as when a self is opposed to, or becomes, another entity which is separable from the self; the self does not approach actively an-other, whether to love her or to besiege her, as Farifia likes to say when she presents her case for reclaiming Lesbian subjectivity. What I am arguing cannot be understood in any oppositional sense, for I suffer myself as other in the sense that I am passively the other, which is no particular entity, no particular self: \"That is, I identify insofar as the other is precisely no one in particular, is beyond himself [or herself] and is not equal to his suffering. I identify with the other precisely to the extent that the other is anonymous, arid thus I identify with no one\" (Wall , 1999, 47). In another instance, and using the Levinasian language of persecution which also recalls the phantasmatic alterity I call the ghest, Wa l l writes: \"I am haunted, altered \u2014 but by no one . . . I am haunted by no one other than myself. This is my ungrounded, abyssal, endless passivity. M y self comes to me as the very event of my being and therefore, as cast, I am exposed to, and permeated by, alterity. . . . The self is an other . . . and therefore is never for-itself, but is 'despite-itself-for-another'\" (Wal l , 1999, 44). The passion of the self-being-other is within but also outside Farina's homoerotic passion essentially de-term-ined as such. This is because as a self, Farifia's Lesbian sets out on a journey to meet no one else but herself-as-her-own-death: this is a Lesbian within and 206 outside herself and a lesbianism with-out lesbianism. In this sense, the Lesbian passion is nothing but Lesbian subjectivity as valva, self-impasse or as une passivite a mort. It is not fortuitous that many of the writers cited here often speak of this passivity in death in terms of a lapse, \"diachrony as perpetual defection from the present\" (Wall , 1999, 46), delay, deferral, patient waiting, belatedness or latecoming \u2014 and this advent event within and beyond a Lesbian orgasmic coming brings us back to a messianic porvenir (Spanish for avenir) of the not-yet Lesbian. We shall see soon how this unfolds in one of the most important lines of Farina's poem, but all the above expressions of passion or passivity were already alluded to in Mistral 's citation about listening to the other encrypted as valva, of hoping and awaiting the deferred coming of the hyperlesbian messiah; hoping for the \"lesbian\" coming not as a self, an affirmed subject, an exemplary de-term-ination, but as a \"perpetual defection from the present.\" Passivity is also understood as radical hospitality (that is, the ghcest as the self-being-other), a k ind of absolute love or passion entailing in its meaning two different non-active instances: \"the receptive moment in consciousness . . . [and] the non-activity of suffering\" (De Boer on Levinas's \"passivity,\" 1997, 99). The first non-active instance accounts for how the self welcomes, receives, is the other, and the second instance describes how the self suffers upon itself the other. Passivity in Derrida is often thought of aporetically as the non-movement, or non-passage, the pas or non-step of death. (The pas refers both to a step and to the French negative.) Farina's Lesbian, whether presented as a subject or as an Other reclaiming a subjectivity based, for example, on the essentialist category of (homo)sexuality, is no motion, is absolute inactivity. It is impossibility-impassability, a no pasard that is not-yet (and is not even negative), does not occur, appear or disappear, does not have this or that attribute, cannot be identified as a Lesbian or as not Lesbian, is not posited as presence or absence, positively or negatively, even actively or passively. The radical, hyperlesbian passivity articulated here exceeds the passive\/active opposition, because before it is simply opposed to activity, [passivity] is passive with regard to itself . . . it is always outside itself and is its own other. Passive with regard to itself, the essential passivity of the subject must undergo itself, suffer itself, feel itself as other ... Older than any (actual) possibility is this potentia-in-general that \"gives\" nothing (except itself) . . . [and] 'gives' its own withdrawal. (Wall, 1999, 1-2) 207 Every entity gives itself passively to the other, including the word \"passivity\" itself: \"Sub-jectivity . . . is nothing but a primordial delay behind the Other. This is absolute passivity (i.e., not relative to any activity, but passivity absolutized as other than, or overwhelming, the difference between active and passive)\" (Wall , 1999, 39). In Derridean terms this type of passivity appears as deferral or as differance, which, as Derrida tells us, \"is neither simply active nor simply passive, announcing . . . something like the middle voice, saying . . . an operation that cannot be conceived either as passion or as the action of a subject or an object, or on the basis of the categories of agent or patient\" (Derrida, 1982c, 13). Otherwise said, passivity is a lapse in time which Derrida frequently calls the dead time of the not-yet, spacing or interval, that is, a blank that \"separatefs] the present from what it is not in order for the present to be itself\" (Derrida, 1982c, 13). Hyperlesbianism is dead time, a passivite a mort, the blank \"space\" or \"time\" constitutive of all selfhood. Libertson argues that the \"temps mort ... [means] being without presence or actuality. This lack of presence is also a lack of position or integrity, which designates every same as a becoming-other and thus as a fundamental passivity . . . every subject is a rapport to his own disappearance, by virtue of the becoming-other\" (Libertson, 1982, 303). Dead time describes non-self-coincidence. In Blanchot this dead time is \"[t]he dead present . . . [as] the impossibility of making any presence real \u2014 an impossibility which is present, which is there at the present's double, the shadow of the present which the present bears and hides in itself\" (Blanchot cited by Keenan, 1999, 108). In Levinas the dead time is given as diachrony without any synchrony, as \"the refusal of conjunction, the non-totalizable, and, in this sense, infinite\" (Levinas cited by Wal l , 1999, 34). In this sense subjectivity for Levinas is beyond presence, is dead time or is a point d' autrui: Subjectivity . . . is that which withdraws from \"between\" past and future. It is time without any \"now\" point, if that is imaginable. Instead of a \"now\" point there is a point d' autrui \u2014 a point of instability and dissolution. Subjectivity, in this sense, is the breakdown of the difference between same and Other . . . and a proximity to the Other outside of, or evacuated of, any presence. (Wall, 1999, 47) To come back to Farina's poem, let us examine this type of suffering inactivity (the hy-perlesbian not-yet or the dead time of the de-term-ination \"Lesbian\") as the final line of Farifia's poem imparts i t , which writes and concludes with: \"y tu lengua mi lengua\" (\"and your tongue my tongue\"). This is the last line of the poem and is so syntac-tically bizarre that it seems to be literally out of place and absolutely non-sensical with 208 respect to the lines that precede it. This is how the poem reads in its three last lines: \"Que are some traits implying that the final peculiar line of the poem describes a death spasm, a delay or the dead time preceding the Lesbian subject even when this subject has been en-tirely confounded with \"her\" tongue. First ly, one needs to consider that there is an \"and\" (\"y\"), a conjunction that starts the last sentence of the poem, but it does not juxtapose or connect this last sentence to the rest of the poem. This conjunction has a disjunctive (diachronic, in Levinasian terms) function. It continues a train of thought because there is no full-stop to the line that comes before the last phrase. But at the same time, this \"and\" makes the final line which it introduces sound non-sensical in conjunction with the rest of the poem. Secondly, \"and your tongue my tongue\" is also where Farina's poem concludes. It is therefore its end. The poem finishes with a line that, although connected to the poem, seems not to belong entirely to i t . It is as if this line were both a part of the poem and independent from it. It is also as if the last sentence, due to this \"and,\" were continuing something and at the same time syncopating it , interrupting it, since this particular verse represents the end of the poem. What is striking about this last line in its relationship to the rest of the poem is that, although the poem in its entirety is replete with aggressive verbs in the active voice, present tense and first person singular \u2014 in fact, the very first word of the poem is such a verb (\"viajo\" or \"I travel\") \u2014 in the last sentence, paradoxically, all verbal activity is suspended and by extension there is no subject or object, agent or patient. There is nothing that is being acted upon and no one that acts. In place of the verb there is a blank \u2014 and such blanks punctuate Farina's entire poetry \u2014 the whiteness of the page, an emptiness or indeed a death spasm which is located exactly in the middle of the sentence and in-between two different entities: this is a syncope in-between \"your tongue\" and \"my tongue.\" The blank space graphically provides a physical distance separating the two entities, whereas one would have expected to find in its place at least a conjunction that would insinuate an erotic union between the two. (For example, the poet could have implied this embrace by 209 writing: \"your tongue and my tongue\" or something like that.) Perhaps the line describes the moment of repose coming after sexual activity or after an erotic encounter which also coincides with the ending of the poem. This coincidence can be explained by the fact (which I mentioned earlier) that Farifia's Lesbian poetic \"I\" makes love and makes poetry. Thus, ceasing the sexual activity is equal to finishing the poem. However, there is another type of quiescence inscribed here, one that involves no one and no other, no self, no alter ego, no \"you\" (or your tongue) and no \"I\" (or \"my tongue\"). This inaction is a' blank which is not to be confused with Farifia's sexual repose or with the physical blank of the page. This non-movement is a different kind of blankness: it is an emptiness, an ellipsis of identification, the hyperlesbian point d' autrui, or a valve of suspending all de-term-ination and in which no self or its other have yet come to exist or share an erotic experience defined in any sense. To be more accurate, this is a moment when, paradoxically, a self is and is not, its other is and is not. The \"space\" and \"time\" that lie between the \"is\" and \"is not\" of each entity are a dead time and a dead space (i.e. the not-yet), a passivity during which no one and nothing exists yet; no one and nothing behaves actively or passively, has this or that experience, is expressed as a specific sexual behaviour (homoerotic, for instance), is woman or man, human, lesbian, heterosexual and so on. In this dead space and dead time everything is st i l l anonymous (in Levinas's sense), suspended, halted as i f by a valve: everything is mortified. The hyperlesbian valve here is this deadness or dead end. (Note that I have put this \"space\" and \"time\" within quotation marks because these words can no longer be thought of in their strict sense, for they convey an in-betweenness that does not properly exist.) In its relationship to the first line of the poem, the final line presents us even with a chiasmus (from the Greek chi or X) which I am tempted to call a t^z or an a ? t e , to recall here the deadly and the traumatic. Whereas the first line begins by declaring an active \"I\" moving towards the other, the last line inverts this dynamic by having the \"I\" become secondary, a kind of latecomer preceded by its other: here \"tu lengua\" comes first, but this \"coming first\" is not announced in any movement or action, but passively, since, as I said above, there is no verbal activity. The line as I am reading it here communicates the suffering of another type of passion: the suffering of one's own end. It communicates 210 the death of \"myself\" (\"my tongue\") where it is this self that becomes secondary or is the latecomer, for myself is belated and has already given its place to the other that precedes it . Therefore, \"my\" own self is halted by a valve, the point d' autrui; \"my\" own self is erased or put under (and after) the other or under the a ? t e , which I do not yet know, for this other uis me: in me\/beyond me. I incarnate that which calls me to myself.\" M y \"identification [which is] this trauma, is radically 'forgotten,' unknown\" (Wall , 1999, 37-8). M y hyperlesbian impossibility-impassability (my dead time), of which I am unaware, comes before myself. According to this logic Farina's line \"and your tongue my tongue\" can be rewritten by substituting \"your tongue\" with \"other\" and \"my tongue\" wi th \"self.\" This is how this phrase can be read while st i l l maintaining its lack of verbs: \"and other self.\" Note that I am not writing the \"other is (a) self\" or vice versa. I am not even rewriting this sentence in terms of Farina's other identified as the loved one, as the \"other tongue,\" as \"your tongue,\" etc., or in terms of her subject being identified as the \"active\" lover. This is why I use what Levinas calls anonymity, whereby the other is anonymous, is me, the anonymous \"no one,\" to such an extent that I can no longer distinguish myself from the other in me. The \"other\" and \"self\" in my version of Farina's last sentence have nothing to do with identified entities, \"and other self\" expresses simply undecidability, belatedness of self-formation or the dead (End of all identification. W i t h the word tend I am playing with Farina's diachronic \"and\" that introduces the final line of the poem and the idea that this line is indeed this poem's end. But through this invention I further allude to all the ideas of suffering, selflessness, passivity, end as self-mortification, valve as the hyperlesbian not-yet, or suspension of self-de-term-ination, etc., on which I have already dwelled. This peculiar word conserves hetaerography's and the ghcest'''s differential diphthong 33 \u2014 which incidentally recreates the play of Farina's poetic and-end \u2014 and suggests the traumatic erasure of the a ? t e . It also has a relationship to the eschatologic or recalls a messianic lesbianism, since it expresses a deferred coming of Lesbian subjectivity or of any selfhood in general. In this sense, the cend stands also for archie (i.e. whereby the self is or begins as always already other than itself) and eschaton (i.e. the messianic not-yet or non-closure of all selfhood, here exemplarily given by Farina 211 as Lesbian selfhood). The always already and the not-yet convey the lapse in subjecthood and presence (the dead time, or dead space, death, passivity, etc.) and are what I described earlier in this chapter as hyperlesbianism or \"future\" (\"democracy\"), which is not to be confused with a utopic program. More pointedly, the tend is passion or endurance. This \" 'passion' implies the endurance of an indeterminate or undecidable l imi t where something, some X . . . must bear or tolerate everything, suffer everything precisely because it is not itself, because it has no essence\" (Derrida, 2000, 28). To evoke Levinas, let us say that to endure means to survive myself or to die for the other, instead and in the place of the other. I live on means that I am dead, a death throe, and that it is always the other before, above, and beyond myself that survives. (Endurance is albricia, the good news of the other's survival beyond my exemplary self. I relate to myself and feel myself in and as the pain and death of the other. (Endurance is to overcome myself, to live on myself, to lose myself. (Endurance is therefore passion as radical com-passion: utter selflessness. The point of this radical love is not to deny the existence of violence, excuse cruel acts or the violent person who commits them, and portray him\/her as originally loving or good. The point of this unconditional love is to convey: a) a loss of selfhood in which we have always already been other than ourselves, or we are so utterly other that we no longer recognize ourselves (our self becomes no-body, personne); b) that the disappearance of self is expressed as violence against oneself (as neglecting or being criminal against one's own self). This is an extreme image that can be understood in the Levinasian terms of persecuting egolatry or self-love, for it is egolatry or egoism that ultimately causes violence against others. Such a radical love is unconditional because it does not respect our most cherished possession: our own selves. It is \"without reserve\" (to use Derrida's words) because it is incompassionate, cruel and violent towards our own violent and all-encompassing selves; because even the most exclusionary and exemplary self is so pernicious and deadly to itself that it becomes the closet (in the differential sense of this word) where its other endures, survives: \"One of the two, One of the Two, says to the Other, 'I am alive,' and would thus be the one who has survived. But it is this other, the one who has survived, who responds to him: 'No you are dead'\" (Derrida, 2000, 97). I am speaking not in an empirical but in an ethical sense (although the former does 212 inform the latter). \"5\" offrir is souffrir\" (Llewelyn, 2000, 128). We have always already been given to the other, for we passively suffer self-dispossession, the loss of the \"who we are.\" As Levinas might say, we have already become (like) the dispossessed, the dead, the excluded, the (gay-)bashed, the gays imprisoned in Cuba's camps, the famished, the orphaned, the homeless, the cold and the naked. We are (like) the impassable other. In this sense, (Endurance is \"absolute responsibility [that] demands absolute passivity, denucleation of the self, kenosis [emptying], sacrifice of the self.\" In empirical terms \"[a]bsolute responsibility to the Good entails this embodiment [of the self] and these goods [ontic, economic, etc.], for it is concretely realized in the sacrificing of the enjoyment of these goods by giving them to the other, not going to the other empty-handed, giving to the other the coat without which I shall suffer from the cold, and the nourishing bread whose taste I am in the process of relishing\" (Llewelyn, 2000, 128). In ethical terms, myself becomes (like) the coat that is given to the shivering other, the bread that passes her\/his hungry lips. Myself is offered like the strip of cloth placed over the other's open wounds, offered like water that cleans the lesions of her\/his bleeding body and quenches her\/his thirst. ( A l l this, however, is never done in good conscience, so that I can congratulate myself that I have fulfilled my duty towards the other. I never accomplish enough and this is why I live in perpetual torment.) Once more, my images here deliberately conflate what I have elaborated earlier as hospitality (the host or self given to the ghcest, the wholly other) and radical com-passion or infinite love. I have talked about responsibility and evoked metaphors of orality in which the self gives itself to the other as if becoming the other's bread and wine. In this sense, Farina's master-ful poetic self is given as food to the beloved (\"the beloved\" here is the hyperlesbian or the wholly other): that self is surrendered to the other which the self believes itself to master and consume. I want to close my reading of Farina's poem by coming back to its orality, to the tongue that eats or speaks the other, for Farina also writes of language. She may wish to present a language properly determined as homoerotic or Lesbian, a carnivorous language that can be attributed to a specific sexuality, just as Bellessi in Eroica was advo-cating a writing (weaving) essentially defined as feminine or maternal. In fact, I suspect that Farina's enterprise of constructing a language that is properly Lesbian is analogous 213 to what some queer theory constructs essentially as homosexual writ ing, designated as homographesis (this is Edelman's term, also discussed by Sifuentes Jauregui, 1998, 134). I propose a hyperlesbian language of com-passion and infinite love that moves wi thin (but also beyond) Farina's essentialist Lesbian language. This language (like valva) cannot be appropriated by any sexuality, whether homo, hetero, b i , human, or animal. It cannot belong to any gender, to any people, culture or ethnicity, or grounded in biologism or genitalism, or defined in terms of a particular body, class or color of skin. It cannot be identified with any language or dialect, wi th Farina's Spanish or her poetic language. It is not carnivorous or masterful, oral or written, spoken or moaned, is not identifiable with linguistic articulation or orgasmic expression, does not denote heterosexual, bisexual or homoerotic passion. Strictly speaking, the language of radical or hyperlesbian com-passion is not a language. It is itself syncopated, suffers its own withdrawal or closeting, is valva or a death spasm. A s a hyperlesbian language in radical \"ethical\" terms, i t is an absolute re-sponse to the other, where the sponse carries all the Levinasian and Derridean connotations of suffering and offering oneself to the other. The sponse of response and responsibility comes from the Lat in spondere, to pledge (in Derrida, this is the messianic promise of the wholly other who is to come) and the Greek sponde, meaning to offer. I answer to the call of the other (respond) and offer myself to the other always before I am even able to say \"I.\" This language is also a messianic promise of a lesbian to come beyond, or as a lapse of, all subjectivity or selfhood. In Levinas the language of re-sponse originates in \"the I's responsibility to respond to the hurt and destitution of others. The other's pain pains the self, turns the self inside-out.\" Language and \"[m]eaning emergje] in a burning care \u2014 like a burning bush, or a hot coal on one's tongue . . . to care not for one's self . . . but more immediately, in a 'passivity greater than all receptivity,' for others\" (Cohen, 1994, 293-4). I am thinking of this (com)passionate hyperlesbian language as a hot coal on Farifia's exemplary tongue, as exceeding Farifia's tongue in particular when the latter becomes pure aggressivity and violence, an incorporating agent or a devouring mouth rendering the other tongue speechless and dead. The hyperlesbian language of com-passion would be a burning bush, an in-flammation in the tongue of anything and anyone unique, regardless i f this unique and this exemplary tongue appears to be attached to a particular gender (man or woman), has a proper (homo\/hetero\/bi)sexual face or has the face of a poli t ical tyrant. 214 A com-passionate hyperlesbian language would mean self-immolation. The hyperlesbian language of love would be a torment \u2014 a condition of perpetual unpeace \u2014 a ve-sponse as constant re-morse persecuting any aggressive self, and any violent or expansionist subject, in the form of an ua,gen-bite of inwit\" (remorse of conscience). I am playing here with morsel, remorse, bite and agenbite by using Levinas's powerful images where a self is considered to be articulated through the trope of giving another the bread that has passed one's lips, those same lips that kiss and utter words of love. To speak with exaggeration, it is as though the bread that I bite bites back. It is almost as though to eat it would be to eat . . . [the other], cannibalism, manger I'autre. For each bite that I take there is an agenbyte of inwyt, a re-morse of which the 're-' marks an anteriority . . . \"Remorse is the 'literal sense' of sensibility . . . \" (Llewelyn, 1995, 190) Beyond Farina's carnivorous language, I suggest a language of re-morse and sensitivity-sensibility in which any violent or exemplary subject is being accused, persecuted, sen-tenced to torment, pain and death \u2014 or to use Farina's exact verb, directed from her Lesbian subject to \"her\" other, and to other lesbians, including Mis t ra l \u2014 is besieged (see: \"la cerco\"). A n y exclusionary subject is subjected to its own self-impossibility or \"death.\" How can a language be sensitive-\"sensible\"? One must keep in mind what I have claimed above in regard to this peculiar language. The word \"language\" is not taken here in any literal sense. The hyperlesbian language of com-passion, of love or of re-morse \u2014 like the language of stammering blood or anguish in Bellessi's poetry \u2014 describes pure suscepti-bi l i ty to the other, any other, the wholly other, the unidentifiable ghcest. It is sensitivity as re-sponsiveness, response and responsibility to the pain of the other and sensibility as a self being affected by that pain. (The word \"pain\" conveys the displacements that any other suffers. The self suffers that \"pain\" as its own self-exclusion or as losing itself and be-coming selfless.) In Levinasian ethics this is not a verbal language. I wi l l cite Critchley on this non-verbal language in order to give a better idea of its sensitivity-sensibility aspects (although I st i l l maintain certain reservations about Levinas's reliance on the humanity or face of the Other, which Derrida has discussed in \"Violence and Metaphysics\"). In Levinas this language is also called original Saying [which] is not a verbal utterance . . . It is, rather, the non-verbal manifestation of \"skin and human face\" . . . The ethical essence of language, from which the experience of obligation derives, originates in the sensibility of the skin of the Other's face. The meaningful relation to the Other is maintained by a non-verbal language of skin . . . [This is] a relation in which the conscious subject is reduced to a relation of subjection to the Other. The subject is subject, and the form that this subjection assumes is sensibility. Sensibility is my subjection, 2 1 5 vulnerability, or passivity towards the Other, a sensibility that takes place \"on the surface of the skin, at the edge of nerves\" . . . The ethical self is an embodied being of flesh and blood, a being who is capable of hunger, who eats and enjoys eating [like Farina's self]. As Levinas writes, \"Only a being that eats can be for the Other\" . . . ; that is, only such a being can know what it means to give its bread to the Other from out of its own mouth. . . . \"[The] original language [is a] language without words or propositions . . . \" Language is originally wordless approach and tactile contact. It is the nudity and aphonia of skin, the taciturn eloquence of the stammer. (Critchley, 1999a, 180) Returning to Farifia's poem, this language does not speak poetic words or the carnivorous language of Farifia's Lesbian subjectivity, but is the aphonia of the other's death rattle. The words \"the other as death rattle\" signify the self's self-withdrawal, self-suspension or final spasm. Derrida might have argued that Farifia's Lesbian subject is a carno-phallologocentric self that loves to eat, take in , and grasp for itself in a rather unremorseful, insensitive (non-responsive), carnivorous, encompassing and virile manner (Derrida, 1995i, 280). But , as I have discussed in analyzing Farifia's poem, its Lesbian tongue also cendures its loss. \"She\"\/\"i t\" eats and \"she\"\/\"it\" is eaten. \"She\" becomes \"herself,\" a morsel bitten back by the other. The bread (the other as food) that \"she\" bites, bites \"her\" back. \"She\" becomes ve-morse. \"The question is no longer one of knowing i f it is 'good' to eat, nor of knowing which other. One eats h i m regardless and lets oneself be eaten by h im\" (Derrida, 1995i, 282); that is, one lets oneself be eaten by the other in the form of an agen-bite of inwit. Farina's Lesbian consciousness (or subject) becomes a re-morse of consciousness. In reading Diana Bellessi's poetry I wrote of a stammering tongue or a language of an-guish. Here, I am writing of an analogous agonizing hyperlesbian language of re-morse or agenbite of inwit that is always offered to, and suffers (for) the other, giving itself to the ghcest to eat. Farina's Lesbian lips speak and love, and bite and die, and pass themselves to the other that cendures in them like a hot coal, an in-flammation. M y images are crit-ical of Farina's essentialist representation of the Lesbian tongue and play ironically with Irigaray's well-known (and in my view problematic) metaphor of the exemplary feminine as \"lips that speak together.\" The hyperlesbian language I am proposing exceeds Farifia's exemplary discourse and its problematic representation of the Lesbian and implies that 216 no lips (whether exemplarily feminine or masculine, maternal or paternal, of forefathers or their servile copy, foremothers and foresisters, etc.) can ever speak again with the arrogance of a carnivorous, violent and pseudo-hospitable or appropriating self that is constructed or represented by such discourses as the centre of the universe, history, humanity, reality, culture, etc. Again , notice that I am critiquing a discourse that constructs the lesbian as such an exclusionary self \u2014 and essentially ends up violating her alterity \u2014 and do not intend to imply that actual lesbians are violent, carnivorous, etc. Whoever I am \u2014 if, indeed, I am anyone or anything at all \u2014 I am not unique. I am \u2014 myself writ ing these lines, anyone of us \u2014 a hyperlesbian ve-morse haunted by the ghcest, the stranger other that I exclude when I say \"I,\" whose entrance into my community I forbid and whose absence accuses me, besieges me, torments me: I occupy a place in the sun that could be occupied by another somewhere: Bosnia, Rwanda, Somalia, Tibet, Israel or Palestine . . . There can be no such basking in the equable warmth of the supersensible sun where . . . the stranger left out in the cold looks to me to justify assymetrically my occupation of a place in the sun on this earth. Accused by this look, whatever sense of community \u2014 of sensus communis \u2014 I may feel is pierced by a sense of isolation. (Llewelyn, 2000, 149-50) Finally, this language of re-morse and infinite love is an ardent bush burning with desire for the impossible-impassable; it is being on fire with passion for the advent of a \"lesbian messiah\" whose alterity remains inappropriable, unpresentable, incalculable, infinite and unfinished, and \"as such\" sets all identity, violent exemplarism and its egolatry ablaze. To await faithfully t i l l dawn for this messiah is to wait with the despair and delirium of a lover who s' offre and soujfre, or is anxious to abandon herself entirely to the hands of the other: this is a lover absolutely and always already vulnerable to the hyperlesbian, the ghcest. M y own discourse (signed by myself, this arrogant and violent \"I\"), tormented by paradoxes and aporias and trying to speak of the unspeakable and the impossible, might have already abandoned itself to the hyperlesbian, this wordless language of suffering the other upon oneself, or suffering (com)passion. M y own discourse might have already been surrendered to blankness, wordlessness (aporia and unpeace, re-morse), falling in love unconditionally with the nudity and aphonia of the other's skin, the taciturn eloquence of \"her\" death rattle. 217 Suspected to Be . . . [L]ove is the possibility kept open by the impossibility of knowing the reality of the \"sex\" of the Other or, indeed, knowing the other at all . . . The \"real\" other remains a secret. Drucilla Cornell1 5 I want to finish this extensive chapter dedicated to Farifia's Albricia by a brief reading of two more poems, which wi l l allow me to conclude with an allegory. This allegory is inspired by a story, recorded by Israel Burshatin, of passage and non-passage; it opens the queer to its others, for example to racial, religious and ethnic questions. Burshatin is a gay critic who discusses the life story of Eleno de Cespedes, a case of undecidable sexuality, and indeterminate racial, professional, religious, class and gender identity \"preserved in the archives of the Inquisition of Toledo\" (Burshatin, 1999, 420) in sixteenth-century Spain. I wi l l postpone re-telling his story t i l l the end of this section. From his tale I retain the phrase \"suspected to be\" that provides the title of the present section; it refers to Eleno as suspected by the authorities of the Inquisition to be of a particular sexual, racial, ethnic, etc., identity. Eleno's is not a determined identity but a suspected one. I re-tell this story in order to suggest an allegory of hyperlesbian love for the other that speaks of \"the impossibility of knowing the reality of the 'sex' of the Other or, indeed, knowing the other at a l l , \" that is of not knowing the other as an identity. This allegory implies that the \" ' rea l ' other remains a secret,\" an underground force, encrypted from, escaping, and even undermining all authorities that strive to appropriate it as an identity. Burshatin does not use his story as I wi l l employ it here, but his tale interests me because it speaks of suspicions and uncertainty and reminds me of Mistral 's invitation to lie in wait \u2014 in fact, Mis t ra l uses the image of a vigilant and faithful dog \u2014 for the unaffirmed, and even shocking and surprising alterity of an unfinished lesbian. This lesbian or hyperlesbian wi l l be \"radically concealed\" \u2014 to evoke Butler 's terms \u2014 or wi l l be closeted, in the special differential sense I have given to this word. As Cornell might say, if the alterity of the lesbian is to be safeguarded, the \"real\" lesbian must remain a secret, unknown, suspected to be . . . Of course, I am not advocating a return to the closet and to the repression of homosexuality, 218 at least as this word is commonly understood, and am not implying that gays and lesbians should not speak openly of their sexuality. On the contrary, I am offering a critique and an excessive reading of the category \"closet,\" inspired by Butler 's attack of the same concept in \"Imitation and Gender Insubordination\" (1991) and other analogous feminist critiques of other \"repressive structures\" such a patriarchy, phallocracy, etc. (See, for instance, Mohanty's similar deconstructive approach to the term \"patriarchy,\" cited in chapter II). M y deconstruction (and excess) of the closet does not consist in merely \"exposing] the existence of repressive mechanisms,\" (Scott, 1992, 25). For Scott such a critique would be ineffective as long as it does not attack the structure's (the closet's) repressive logic that victimizes gays and lesbians or defines them as always and inherently repressed, powerless vict ims. A l l repressive structures (whether they are called patriarchy, phallocracy, or closet) conserve within themselves, or offer themselves, the means with which to resist their own repression. To accept the contrary, that there is such a thing as a perpetually oppressive structure, means to accept also that by definition it is impossible to escape this structure's oppression. A n d this would signify that by definition one can never escape (patriarchy or) the closet \u2014 in the everyday usage of this word \u2014 no matter how much one tries to do so. More importantly, to admit the above would not only be a position of fatality, but one that is dangerous and detrimental to all queer activism, and in particular to al l those that have suffered the repression of this structure. I have explained that I use the closet improperly in a different or excessive sense, as ontological encryption, a kind of a differential process that implies the not-yet of all identity or essence, particularly when both are employed in order to determine the \"real\" other and the \"real\" lesbian; particularly when the alterity of the lesbian is converted into a possibility and is, therefore, assimilated as essence, and this time is repressed by becoming an identity. The closet is the encryption of any identity, including heterosexual identity, or gender categories. This is also why the closet, in my sense is thought of in terms of Butler 's \"radical concealment\" or as parallel to Derrida's secret, for it hides no being, no essence that can be disclosed: it exceeds all ontology. It is pure alterity or difference that, i f it represses anything at a l l , represses al l essentialist identification, or the reduction and appropriation of alterity to identity, or to subjectivity. In another poem (10) by Farina, I read this type of \"repression\" of ontology \u2014 which Butler 219 might call \"the exclusion from ontology\" \u2014 as rhythm. In this poem the poetic \"I\" is an empty word, the hollow rhythm of a belly drum: \"Intento abrir al r i tmo de mi abdomen \/ un hueco a la palabra\" (\"I attempt to open to the rhythm of my abdomen \/ a hole in the word\" [10]). This is a poem that may be describing a female auto-erotic scene, notable for its violent images of death, howling sounds, prisons, graves, bones, dismemberment and collapse. There is an association here between language and music. Al though st i l l remaining in the realm of speech, the oral-genital, and even the digestive system, here the tongue is the subject, the word, an abdomen-drum. The rhythm breaks into howling: \"Se encabritan las olas de mi cabeza Ai i l l o A u l l a \" ( \" M y head's waves are riled I howl it howls\"). From the syntax of these lines it is impossible to discern i f it is the rhythm or the word, or the gap in the word, or the opening \"I,\" or the head, that howls. The \"I\" howls as if its rhythm becomes the wailing mouth of the word. Then there is a death rattle, the rhythm of dismembering and self-collapse: \"Me abro en gajos amarillos \/ y crujo este sonido al desmembrarme\" (\"I open in yellow slices \/ and I creak out this sound as I am being dismembered\"). Rhy thm here becomes the \"repression\" of the \"I,\" the percussion of ontological death. In Derrida, rhythm is in fact another name for \"writing\" in the sense of differance, or as dead time and dead space (spacing, interval), the passivity of the subject becoming altered. Rhy thm is an \"economie de la mort ' which informs . . . [all] alteration\" (Libertson, 1982, 303). Using the traditional concept of rhythm in a differential sense, Derrida writes: \"Rhy thm . . . [is] the spaced repetition of a percussion, the inscriptive force of a spacing . . . [that] belongs neither to the visible nor to the audible, neither to 'spectacular' figuration nor to the verbal representation of music, even if it structures them insensibly'1'' (Derrida, 1989a, 32). This rhythm is percussion or impression-compression. It is the \"repression\" of the subject: \"[t]he pressure it exerts . . . de-constitutes the 'subject' \" (Derrida, 1989a, 33), or to use Farina's verb, it dismembers the subject. Along with, or perhaps under, Farina's beat of the \"I\"-belly-word-drum one can hear another ve-pressive beat that dismembers Farina's \"I\" (or rattles i t , as does death). Farina's \"I\" may not yet be an \"I,\" may not exist. The \"I\" is \"rhythmed,\" that is, it is other: \" ' R h y t h m would also be the condition of possibility for the subject.' We are ' rhythmed' . . . in such a way that . . . [t]he 'character' 220 it [the rhythm] imprints or prescribes is not the attribute of the being we are, not an attribute of our existence\" (Derrida, 1989a, 31). Spanish has the word arrimarse related to rhythm, that nicely conveys Farina's \"I\" as not-yet-\"I\" or as other: \"arrimarse means more than coming close to others, but also arrimar, to ventriloquize, to rhyme, to speak the language of the Other\" (Sifuentes Jauregui, 1998, 126). Farina's \"I\" is rhythmed: it is a word-drum, a \"language\" \"addressed to the other\" (Derrida, 1995f, 384), being for the other, coming from the other, and returning to the other but never back to itself. The other here is no one (person) in particular. It is the valvic impassability, the \"death\" of Farina's \"I.\" In this sense, language is the rhythm of valve, impasse, the creaking of a self's collapse by which the self is nothing but \"its difference to itself: in difference with itself [avec soij\" (Derrida, 1998a, 68). I understand this language differently from Sifuentes Jauregui, for whom arrimarse is to speak with the voice of others (other people) or to speak another language (for example, instead of speaking Spanish, to speak English, etc.). I also understand it differently from Farina, for whom language points to homosexuality, coming from and returning to a Lesbian subject, even to Woman. I am arguing for a \"language\" as rhythm in the sense of self-difference, the valvic prohibition of all selfhood. This self-difference implies that there is a (hyperlesbian) other, entirely other than \u2014 or inside \u2014 the Lesbian \"I\" that is coming: this is a secret, closeted other, which the Lesbian subject \"herself\" is, since \"she\" is nothing but her own difference within herself. This language is the rhythm of a messianic lesbianism coming inside, the Lesbian subject, and also as its excess, s t i l l remaining impossible and secret. It is a language that speaks an appeal to the undetermined other to come. This language or rhythm is anterior to the category \"Lesbian,\" \"is 'before' the concept, the name, the word, 'something' that would be nothing, that no longer arises from Being, from presence or from the presence of the present, nor even from absence\" (Derrida, 1989b, 9). This anteriority describes the always already aspect of hyperlesbianism or messianic lesbianism implying once more that the hyperlesbian is not a utopic alterity. Farina's Lesbian subject is the rhythm, the rhyme and the poetry not of \"herself,\" or of a self in general, but of this unknown ghcest beyond the \"real\" Lesbian, beyond a \"real\" sexuality, beyond a \"real\" country (Chile), beyond a \"real\" people (Chileans), beyond a \"real\" gender (Woman), beyond a \"real\" culture 221 (Hispanic), and beyond a \"real\" language (Spanish). The rhythm of this hyperlesbian coming other is never apprehensible, sensible or intelligible, is never expressed as a fact, a certainty, a guarantee, an assurance, a de-finite thing, a proof. This is why I am intrigued by Burshatin's tale of suspicion, the figure of the tornadizo, and another poem by Farina referring to the rhythm of the \"closet,\" or to cryptic language. In fact, the word tornadizo as I use it here is an expression of the cryptic and could easily allude to other analogous terms which hint at a Spanish history of repression and terror. In the first instance tornadizo is chosen because it is related to \"tornar,\" or to turn, to alter, and by extension it is also a relative of valva. Tornadizo literally means renegade \u2014 English has the astonishing word \"turncoat\" to allude to an apostate \u2014 and was employed in Medieval Spain to refer to a converso or a convert (i.e. a Jew or a M u s l i m supposedly turned into a Christian after forced conversion). Incidentally, a convert, a tornadizo, a Marrano were also suspected by Spanish authorities not only of st i l l remaining secretly faithful to their old religious beliefs, but also of being encrypted homosexuals or sodomites (Roth, 1995, 185). I am also interested in tornadizo as a figure of difference and of messianic lesbianism because of its eschatologic undertones, at least when it appears connected to the figure of the Marrano, who is also a convert and a term \"related to the Aramaic expression maran atha, 'Our Lord has come' . . . [or] as maran tha, possibly an imperative: 'Lord , come!'\" (Roth, 1995, 3-4). Derrida employs the category of the Marrano in an altered sense, that is as a term of encryption and indeterminacy. He writes of en-cryption as one's identity being \"destined . . . to the condition of a sort of Spanish Marrano who would have lost \u2014 in truth, dispersed, multiplied \u2014 everything up to and including the memory of his unique secret\" and even the memory of his own self, of the \"who s\/he is\" (Derrida, 1998b, 66). In \"Marx and Sons,\" Derrida tells us that his Marrano is a \"sort of clandestine immigrant, a Hispano-Portuguese disguised as a German Jew, we wi l l assume pretended to have converted to Protestantism, and even to be a shade anti-Semitic.\" Marranos are those \"who were so well disguised, so perfectly encrypted, that they themselves never suspected that that's what they were (!) [Derrida's exclamation] \u2014 or else had forgotten the fact that they were Marranos, repressed it , denied it, disavowed i t\" (Derrida, 1999c, 262). 222 The tornadizo or Marrano is a bit like Mistral 's awaited lesbian other, or like her verses as a plea, a lesbian maran tha, \"Please, come!\": \"I shall come: the coming is always to come ... I am coming means: I am going to come, I am to-come in the imminence of an 'I am going to come,' 'I am in the process of coming, ' 'I am on the point of going to come.' . . . 'Stay awake!'\" (Derrida, 1992, 153). I am writ ing of a lesbian maran tha, but in truth the determination \"lesbian\" must also be written off, for the tornadizo implies the \"closeting\" and \"radical concealment\" of all ontological demarcation, even that of the category of the \"Lesbian,\" to the point that one can never appropriate the alterity of this messiah and finish her off. The maran tha of the tornadizo entails a lesbianism as the turncoat of al l ontology; the tornadizo is a lesbian (with-out . . .) that \u2014 to paraphrase Derrida \u2014 is so well disguised, so perfectly encrypted, that she herself never suspected that that's what she was (!) \u2014 or else had forgotten the fact that she was a lesbian messiah, repressed it, denied it , disavowed it. Not only does this have consequences for Farina's essentialist or exemplary category of the Lesbian (and of sexuality), it also affects all ontological determinations that affirm the gender, or the cultural, historical, ethnic, and linguistic provenance of the other. To be a turncoat is to accept the other within oneself; it is \u2014 to use Levinasian language \u2014 to give yourself as a coat to the stranger ghcest. To be a turncoat is to be a traitor to all self-identity. It is to be unable to rescue the \"who you 'really' are.\" It is to pass by and pass as another, altered, turned, that is, to be absolutely irrecuperable. As Farina inadvertently tells us in the following poem: 223 P A S A T U H I S T O R I A una vez y otra sin poder rescatarla esta sintaxis P A S A N L U G A R E S H I T O S un temblor en los labios un guiiio tenue ( Y O U R H I S T O R Y P A S S E S time and again without this syntax being able to recover it F I X E D P L A C E S P A S S a trembling of the lips a tenuous wink; 24) In the line \" P A S A N L U G A R E S H I T O S , \" the word \"hitos\" can also ambiguously be a noun, in which case it can be translated as \"landmarks\" or \"bordermarks.\" This poem is a contradiction of Farina's entire book, Albricia, and the book's enterprise to rescue and present a Lesbian Sapphistory and literary genealogy, as well as its agent, a voracious Lesbian subject. Here things are subject to a constant passage, change or alteration, to valva as a process of turning an entity into something else, to the point that such a history can only be possible when it is impossible, when it is irreclamable and irrevocably lost. The poem says earlier: \"es otra historia la que \/ asoma\" (\"it is another history \/ that shows\"). \"History\" in Spanish, as in French, is both history and story. In a sense, Farina's entire book is a storying or a retelling of Hispanic letters and their history from the point of view of the excluded lesbian. Farina attempts to \"make an alternative history . . . making a story in the robust sense . . . whose characters are different from the characters that have been given prominence\" (Spivak, 1994b, 283) so far in Hispanic letters. Of course, as I have argued in particular with reference to Mistral 's (re)appearance and unearthing in Farina's poetry, Farina neither manages to master her characters and her characters' lesbianism nor to tell their \"real\" story. Or rather, she tells their \"real\" story at the point when 224 everything seems to be unwilling to be affirmed, answered or revealed; when lesbianism and its characters remain in question, \"suspected to be,\" an unanswered #Entiendes?, when they withdraw and escape. This poem repeats such a failure to master lesbianism and rewrites the impossibility of domesticating the other as essentially Lesbian: this poem also expresses the impassable other. I am exceeding and deconstructively altering this poem's (re)telling (see my notion of volver-dire explained in the \" 'Methodological ' Notes\" of this chapter). To put i t playfully, my reading \u2014 like my analyses of Farina's poems so far \u2014 is a turncoat reading, turning this poem's tale inside-out or upside down. In fact, valva describes this turncoat reading, for as the reader may recall, valva comes from volvere, to turn, to rol l , or is a pocket, and in Farina's precise words, an \"envoltura caliente,\" that is, a \"warm fold\" (33). Farina's poem (24) wants to speak (vouloir-dire) of cruising. The story it \"really\" wants to tell is about another type of journey (analogous to that of the travelling tongue analyzed earlier), the trip of cruising, passing, approaching a partner, a potential lover. The final lines refer to bodily nods and gestures, to somatic passwords used to identify the lover. The lover responds with \"un temblor en los labios \/ un guiiio tenue\" (\"a trembling of the lips \/ a tenuous wink\") . A t the beginning of the poem a poetic \"I\" appears that approaches and looks at another and sees in this other another true, \"real\" story \u2014 supposedly a counterpart to the offical heterosexist history: the subject sees the potential partner's true Lesbian self, which is a specular reflection of the approaching \"I.\" The following image plays with the metaphor of the mirror, whereby the other's eye, that is gazed upon, passively reflects the gazing self. The other is an image of the self: \"de una mirada cerco tu \/ postura \/ es otra historia la que asoma \/ me allego a tu ojo ovillando \/ m i imagen dentro de un bastoncillo.\" Here again the verses are notable for their aggressivity, as the verb \"cerco\" (\"I besiege\") implies: \"with only a look I besiege your \/ posture \/ it is another (hi)story that \/ shows I approach your eye curling \/ my image up into a ball inside a stick.\" The body of the other or its sexual identity becomes translucent, revealed, pierced, known, possessed: \" T R A S L U C I D A L A P I E L \" ( \" T R A N S L U C E N T T H E S K I N \" ) . The other's identity, in a sense, comes out of the closet. This image of Lesbian narcissism \u2014 which I find extremely problematic precisely because it 225 adopts al l the violent images and presuppositions of a specular phallologocentrism based on self-love \u2014 declares nothing but the reduction of the other to the same, just as Mistral 's lesbianism was earlier reduced to Farina's Lesbianism. Farina, who wants to write her own other Lesbian story, supposedly freed from her \"forefathers,\" \"freed from the shackles of the paternal law may well prove to be yet another incarnation of that law posing as subversive, but operating in the service of that law's self-amplification and proliferation\" (Butler, 1990, 93). W i t h this metaphor of auto-reflection, Farina establishes a (ph)Allocentric selfsame Les-bian economy whereby the partner (the other lesbian) is seen as an onanistic projection of an aggressive self. Passively the other becomes nothing but an alter ego classified accord-ing to one homogeneous category, that of homosexuality. What matters here is only the sexual identity of the other and how this identity is indeed identical to that of the subject. (Sexuality is exemplarily and exclusively Farina's main concern. Farifia's program of Les-bian liberation might not be very welcoming or open to other stories whose \"characters\" are not simply lesbians, but have also other histories to tell that speak about their class, age, racial oppression, etc. This is, for instance, a complaint that many lesbians of color have expressed in Esta puente, mi espalda [1988].) It is as if Farifia's verses said: \"I can see you, you are like me, you are me or my own image; you are also a Lesbian; we share a common substance, a common sexual identity, a common other story, a common ground, the other ground\" \u2014 but it is indeed sti l l an ontological ground. Farina's story of Lesbian narcissism turns out to be another impossible or irrecoverable story: \"narcissism is one of those . . . double-bind or double-faced logics, like the logic of . . . me, ego, for example: the more there is, the less there is\" (Derrida, 1987a, 52). The more there is of myself, the less there is of me. I am multipl ied, dispersed; myself is not recovered but covered, ciphered, closeted. It is as if Farina's mirror were covered over by a mantle; the self-image is absolutely cancelled, annulled, veiled, obscured in \"a night like valve\" to use Mistral 's verses. It is as if the Lesbian subject's auto-reflection takes cover under her other: that is, the Lesbian subject is cloaked, not herself, anonymous. One plus one is not simply two: it is One minus itself. If Farina's Lesbian subject (and by extension \"her\" sexuality) were a self-sufficient identity \"she\" would not have needed \"her\" reflection. 226 \"She\" would not have needed to take cover under her other; \"she\" would not have needed to turn out like \"her\" other. \"She\" is an image (the image of the other), a g-hcest. \"She\" (re)turns to \"herself,\" no longer complete but altered. \"She\" is tornadiza, (an)other story. \"She\" is a turncoat of herself: in order to keep herself or her identity intact, \"she\" must give herself away as her other. \"She\" can love herself only by losing herself, by being cruel to herself, by (enduring the passion of becoming another, by (enduring the fact that \"she\" gives herself to the other. \"She\" is a gift to the other, a (turn)coat given to the other because \"she\" is no longer herself. In one sense and on the most basic level, this relationship can be thought of as unfolding between the lover (subject) and the potential partner (i.e. the subject's alter ego or the mirroring image). But in a radical sense this (turn)coat relationship exceeds these two identities. It exceeds them in so far as it describes the process of \"cloaking\" or self-closeting, by which all identity and selfhood that takes cover under (an)other is possible. In this sense, narcissism or all self-love \u2014 no matter if it is homosexual or heterosexual, manly or womanly, or refers to ontological self-identification, etc. \u2014 is turning yourself (in)to the other, is giving yourself as a coat to the other, to the g-hcest. (The \"other\" and the ghcest\" are not to be understood here as any identity in particular.) It is to cendure being cold, a sort of ontological cold, denucleation of self, the emptiness of being stripped of your own self at the very moment when you say: \"I would sti l l like to be admired and loved, to be sent back a good image\" (Derrida, 1987a, 51) of myself. I am speaking of self-encryption, to turncoat yourself as to turn yourself (inside) out, to turn or hand yourself in , as a coat, to the other: let us remember again that valva is an \"envoltura caliente,\" \"a warm fold.\" English has an astonishing number of expressions that revolve around the word \"to turn\" (related to the Spanish tornadizo) which could all be applied here. Thus, it could be said that the self turns against itself, turns out to be other than itself, turns to another, turns itself in (betrays itself), turns (converts) into something other turns itself over (submits, passes over to the other or overturns itself), and even in \"ethical\" terms, turns the other cheek in the sense that it cendures, suffers or patiently and passively bears its own loss. A n y narcissistic and assimilating self takes the form of the persecuted (the form of the lesbian when she is displaced or persecuted), those that hide, the converted, the 227 encrypted, the clandestine, the disguised, those who live in fear, the betrayed, the accused, the besieged. This self does not even know who it is, i f it is anything at a l l , or why it is persecuted in the first place. I am saying this because this traumatic relationship to oneself cannot valorize one type of oppression exclusively over another. It communicates with all violences \u2014 such as discrimination on the basis of sexuality, race, beliefs, linguistic and cultural \"difference\" and so on \u2014 and exceeds them al l . This self-trauma can no longer be hierarchically identified with any particular type of oppression. It is like all of them and is none of them because, according to its non-hierarchical or non-exemplary logic, there are no oppressions that are worse or less violent than others, or more painful and catastrophic than others, more preferable than others or more \"real\" than others. If a lesbian is bashed up and left for dead, gay people fenced in Cuba's concentration camps, or gassed to death in Germany's past, these are no more or less violent and \"real\" than wiping out or enslaving an entire population classified as Blacks or burning at the stake, persecuting, exiling, etc., people classified as M u s l i m or Jewish. It is by now apparent that I read Farina's manipulation of the cryptic and her poem's allusions to a language of codewords in the sense of a Lesbian subject turning away from herself and passing over to the other. She is a suspicion, an ^Entiendes?, an equivocation or an unanswered question. She is an identity suspected to be such and such, whether this as such here is determined on the basis of sexuality or of gender. I read this suspected \"lesbian\" as Burshatin's Eleno, an other other who became accustomed to passing as anything and anyone and who suffered more than one oppression that was related not just to her\/his impossible to determine sex\/uality, but also to his\/her indeterminate ethnicity, religion, class, etc. Eleno is a turncoat, a tornadizo\/a, in all the senses I have given to these words. S\/he is the name of a case story preserved in the archives of the Inquisition of Toledo in early-modern Spain. \"Elena\" was a \"mulatta\" slave and \"her\" mother was of African origin. \"She\" acted both as female, marrying a man and becoming pregnant, and male by cross-dressing, becoming a soldier and a surgeon and marrying a woman. It was believed that \"she used her pharmacological and surgical skills to shrink or camouflage the opening of her vulva . . . to pass as a man (my emphasis; Burshatin, 1999, 428). Eleno 228 seems to be the l iving example of what I have described earlier as valva. In her\/his tr ial \"Eleno\" was accused as a bigamist, \"closeted\" female, sodomist and heretic. \"Around 1568 . . . Eleno's transgendered appearance produced two contrasting forms of cultural anxiety over his disquieting looks. Some read Eleno as an effeminate male or butch female, while others took Eleno for a monfi or Morisco bandit.\" \"Eleno\/a's \"butchness, brown skin and slave brand produced the most prevalent sort of cultural anxiety of early-modern Spain: . . . [s\/he] looked like a monfi, and he was therefore arrested as a Morisco outlaw\" (Burshatin, 1999, 436-7). Burshatin cites Cavarrubias's definition of the term monfi: \"Mofties is the name given to certain Moors or Moriscos who were among those who first converted . . . [T]hey mixed with Christians, learned our language, and thus were masters of both . . . [Mjonfi is a man who is frightened and withdrawn, or a bandit\" (Covarrubias given by Burshatin, 1999, 438). \"Eleno\/a\" was crossing religious, ethnic, gender, sexual, professional, linguistic, cultural, and polit ical boundaries. S\/he was consequently arrested as a mobile monfi because s\/he \"is the one who 'passes'.\" This is Burshatin's interpretation of a monfi and of \"Eleno\" as a monfi (Burshatin, 1999, 438), a turncoat in every possible sense. Does it really matter who \"Eleno\/a\" was or what s\/he was? Is it possible to pursue an answer to such a question? A n d , i f one indeed wants to move in that direction (i.e. to de-term-ine \"Eleno\/a's\" ontological status), what consequences arise from such an enterprise? I am not convinced at all that the results of such a project would be any different from those \"Eleno\/a\" suffered under the Inquisition of Toledo. In any case, \"Eleno\/a\" was, and wi l l be once more, arrested, de-term-ined, tried, con-fined, sentenced and finished off. Even Burshatin repeats the Inquisition's violence against \"Eleno\/a's\" alterity, for he ends up delimiting her\/his mobili ty into a fixed de-finition. For Burshatin \"Eleno\/a\" is essentially a \"who,\" fixed as \"the subject who passes.\" \"Eleno\/a's\" difference and \"mobili ty\" are here cancelled, re-solved, solved. Burshatin's \"Eleno\/a\" and Farina's Lesbian project, that make the other possible, issue the other identification papers and become projects for the other's final dis-solution. Therefore, love for the other begins when she becomes impassable or impossible; when she is kept secret and safeguarded from the eyes of all Inquisitions; when she is well concealed 229 and never turns up as such, and does not conform to any ontological status. Only then she can escape all knowledge or domestication, and can continue to trespass against all the interests some might have when they confer a proper ontological status on her. Disguised, hidden underground, suspected but never known for sure, closeted and encrypted, she may escape from\/under al l official names and identity cards, and remain a threat to all identity projects and all final solutions: unfinished, an impassable ghcest, a \"noche como valva\" (\"night like a valve\"), nocturnal, infinite, a future maran tha, coming \"in the figure of the absolute future . . . the one who wi l l come, more precisely who would come, for the coming of this future, the one to come, must be neither assured nor calculable . . . \" (Derrida, 1994b, 61). 230 Maran tha or To Pray With knowing hands and obsidian, I plunge. through flesh, ribs, cartilege to reach inside. Quietly I sever each vein, aorta \u2014 bloodless I pull away clean. Superior vena cava sighs when I extricate from my carcass this mass still undulating Take this, and eat it: this is my body, which is broken for you: do this in remembrance of me. Marcia Ochoa1 6 Myself, I have no tongue, no genre (I also mean no sex) and on this basis, I love you . . . you help me, we help each other to die .. . Jacques Derrida17 I end this chapter with a prayer for hyperlesbian passion. \"I\" \u2014 who writes or prays, anyone of us \u2014 may have already offered up the carcass of our own (proper) tongue, genre, sex\/uality, culture, history or country, the carcass of \"who we are,\" to the hyperlesbian other. A n d on this basis of une passivite a mort I\/we love the other, \"her,\" selflessly, unconditionally, infinitely. A t the moment when I pronounce the words \"I am the one who is writing these lines,\" I come from somewhere, I speak a few languages, I live here and now, I am an immigrant, a foreigner, I might be a heterosexual or lesbian woman, a 231 man, gay or bisexual, I might be impassioned by literature, read or write poetry: as soon as I announce myself \"I say . . . to you my beloved . . . this is my body . . . love me, analyze the corpus I tender to you, that I extend here on this bed of paper, sort out the quotation marks from the hairs, from head to toe . . . Then you wi l l bury me in order to sleep peacefully. You wi l l forget me, me and my name\" (Derrida, 1987a, 99). In passion, in tiempo muerto (dead time), I offer my carcass. This is my body which is a (g)host broken in absolute hospitality for you. I lie vulnerable on this serving platter of paper, dismembered, my name broken, my-self quartered in pieces. I am host, ghcest, sacramental bread, \"bread on the table, \/ half-burned, half-white, \/ nibbled on top and open \/ in dazzling white crumbs\" (\"pan en la mesa, mitad quemado, mitad bianco, \/ pellizcado encima y abierto \/ en unos migajones de ampo,\" Mis t ra l , 1988b, 74). Bi te this bread. Feast on me. Drink. Take these lines, these words, take these letters and eat them: I a m . The \"I\" is the most exquisite, the most succulent delicacy, full of sap like the stem of a plant, like the milk of a root, black ink and death that speaks me, writes me. The \" a \" is a sweet and fragrant ball of dough, clay, bread crumb that melts in your mouth, falls to the floor, is crunched underfoot. The \"m,\" pulplike and mouth-watering like a honeysweet letter, a ju icy fruit, liquified. I am these letters, these words, every single line in this chapter. I am this language-bread from my mouth, psiha18 passed to your lips. I am re-morse, bitten back. In modern Greece this passing of bread or self from mouth to mouth is often acted out by grandmothers. This is saliva: The grandma dressed in black, sitting at home or at the edge of the fields, feeds the baby. The baby in the cradle or on her lap is wrapped tightly in strips of cloth. She takes a piece of crustless bread, the inside of the bread known as psiha, crumbles it with her fingers and puts a few crumbs in her toothless mouth. The rotating tongue moistens the bread with saliva till it becomes a paste, \"clay.\" She molds the bread till its texture signals that it is ready for the child. She takes the bread from her mouth and places it in its toothless mouth. The baby swallows it as she swallows her saliva flavoured by the bread. Her fingers reach for more bread and the act is repeated. On other occasions she dips the crumbs first in olive oil before molding them with her saliva. (Seremetakis, 1994, 215) I am ink, olive oi l , saliva, psiha, a kiss offered to the hyperlesbian other from mouth to mouth. Love the other generously, even impossibly. Love \"her\" so dearly that you let \"her\" go. 232 Desire \"her\" so passionately that you let \"her\" slip away from your possessive hands: \"she\" is the hot coal that burns your fingers; \"she\" is the beloved that sets you and your snatching embrace on fire. Seek \"her\" so ardently that you never encounter \"her.\" Keep \"her\" close to you when you lose \"her.\" Speak \"her\" name, \"her\" sex when they are ineffable, impassable, for the words that name \"her\" are wordless (g)hosts, ghcest, ve-morse falling like morsels and burning tears on your tongue, biting back and wounding your all-devouring mouth. Accept this wound of love, \"her\" love upon yourself: dispossess this self, denude this Narcissus; naked, stripped of itself, let this self fall in love not with itself or with its image, but with this no one, this selflessness, this otherness that such a self is. F i n d the other when you miss \"her.\" Wait faithfully for the ghcest when you don't expect \"her.\" Resist the temptation to adjust \"her\" to a \"reality,\" to your \"reality.\" Resist the temptation to appropriate \"her\" or to besiege \"her\" in any sense. A n d above al l , pray in the night like Mis t ra l and, \"Stay Awake!\" \"She\" wi l l come! Notes 1. Butler, 1993, 228-29. 2. Cornell, 1993, 152. 3. Derrida, 1999b, 166. 4. Let me stress here that I am making this tenuous distinction between a concept and the \"real referent\" behind it in order to emphasize that this is not an ethnographic project in search of the \"authentic\" and the \"real\" in which I (a superior subject) establish my epistemological criteria, collect data and attempt to explore, describe, discuss (read: violate) my object of inquiry, in this case the \"authentic lesbian.\" This is a discussion of Farina's poetry and its homogenizing concept of \"real lesbianism.\" There are numerous and very powerful critiques written by many feminists, queer and post-colonial theorists that are directed against this type of discourse in search of the \"real\" people, or representing the voice of the \"real lesbian,\" the true native woman, oppressed victim, etc. I refer explicitly to these theorists and my own critique of Farina's discourse presupposes their critical comments concerning this point. Above all, I want to avoid producing another so-called liberating (and liberal) discourse based on the quest for the \"real\" and effected by an intellectual (subject) claiming to know her real \"subjects\" and advocating their rights while subjecting them once more to her own superior voice. As Mohanty suggests: \"It is time to move beyond 233 the ideological framework in which even Marx found it possible to say: 'They cannot represent themselves; they must be represented'\" (Mohanty, 1994, 216). 5. Derrida cautions as: \"[H]ymen\" and \"invagination,\" at least in the context into which these words have been swept, no longer simply designate figures of the feminine body. They no longer do so, that is, assuming that one knows for certain what a feminine or masculine body is, and assuming that anatomy is in this instance the final recourse. What remains undecidable concerns not only but also the line of cleavage between the two sexes . . . [S]uch a movement reverts neither to words nor to concepts . . . One could say quite accurately that the hymen does not exist. Anything constituting the value of existence is foreign to the \"hymen.\" And if there were . . . property value would be no more appropriate to it for reasons that I have stressed in the texts to which you refer. How can one then attribute the existence of the hymen properly to woman? Not that it is any more the distinguishing feature of man or, for that matter of the human creature. I would say the same of the term \"invagination\" which has, moreover, always been reinscribed in a chiasmus, one doubly folded, redoubled and inversed, etc. (Derrida, 1995d, 105-6) 6. Avila, 1998, 109-10. 7. From now on, all translations of Spanish texts, including Farina's, are mine unless indicated otherwise. 8. Mi casa padece su cuerpo como llama que la retuesta. Siento el calor que da su cara \u2014 ladrillo ardiendo \u2014 sobre mi puerta. Pruebo una dicha que no sabi'a: sufro de viva, muero de alerta, jy en este trance de agonfa se van mis fuerzas con sus fuerzas! Extract from Mistral's \"La desvelada\" (\"Vigilant\"), 1988a, 346. 9. I am grateful to Derek Carr for pointing out to me some of this word's Medieval values. 10. Llewelyn, 2000, 129. 11. I am grateful to Isaac Rubio for indicating to me these phonetic subtleties. 12. Lyotard, 1996, 190. 13. Because all my references to this poem come from page 9, I am giving here the page number only once. I will do the same when I discuss other poems by Farina. 14. Blanchot, 2000, 5. 234 15. Cornell, 1998, 177-8. 16. Ochoa's \"La ofrenda\" (\"The Offering\") cited in Yarbro-Bejarano's \"The Lesbian Body,\" 1995, 187-8. 17. Derrida, 1987a, 155. 18. This is a Greek word related to psyche or soul and meaning \"the inside of bread\". 235 Chapter IV Conclusion: Writing Stigmata It all begins with . . . a blessed wound. Blessed. This is what St. Augustine tells us in his Confessions. Helene Cixous1 Vei'ale en las manos un dardo de oro largo, y al fin del hierro me parecia tener un poco de fuego. Este me parecia meter con el corazon algunas veces, y que me llegaba a las entranas: al sacarle me parecia las Uevaba consigo, y me dejaba toda abrasada en amor grande .. . Santa Teresa de Jesus2 [T]he experience of a trait ... the deferred action . . . is indeed the coming of a writing after the other . .. The trace of this wounded writing . .. bears the stigmata of its own proper inadequation . . . Jacques Derrida3 \"It all begins with . . . a blessed wound,\" but also it all ends with a wound, a scar, a stigma. Beginning and end, arche and eschaton are the cut of hetaerography's ligament 35, the traumatic mark of the a?fce. Stigma in Greek is a prick with a pointed instrument, a cut, a mark on the body, a brand on a slave's body, a scar (Dormbarakis, 1995, 756). When I am referring to beginning and ending with a wound, my purpose is not simply to allude to the introduction and the conclusion of this study. In the process of putting together this project, writ ing of hetaerography, the ghcest, or alterity in general as disfigure-ment, disappearance, impasse, (com)passion, etc., that is, as trauma, I frequently imagined that my own tormented or aporetic writing, countless letters puncturing this study's pages, were nothing but stigmata on paper, as i f these pages were written, branded by a burning spear, by a stylus \"stammering the anguish and blood\" of the other, of those others my own discourse constantly silences or excludes and may even alienate. Interestingly, the sti- of stigmata is also the Greek root of the Lat in sti-lus (English, stylus) meaning sting, prick, goad (Bellessi's \"picana\"), writ ing instrument (Dormbarakis on the etymology of stigmata, 1995, 753). What does it mean to write with, or be inscribed and lacerated by, a spear? There are other stigmata that I am implying here. These stigmata cannot be 236 identified entirely either with my own writing (or any writing) or with any mystical or religious experience such as Saint Teresa's transverberation or being marked by a divine consciousness or self-present and superior being. Derrida might call stigmata his trace, and Spivak \u2014 following Derrida \u2014 might use the same word to describe her concept of subalternity, which does not stand for a person or an entity in particular, 4 but is the \"irretrievably heterogeneous\" other (Spivak, 1994a, 79), \" ' the quite-other' (tout-autre as opposed to self-consolidating other), . . . the voice of the other in us '\" (Spivak, 1994a, 89). This is the other that stigmatizes us or brands us forever; the other \"who\" leaves an imperceptible imprint on us and scars us, a scar we can never forget. We are our-selves (or the self is) a trace, the other, a stigma a scar. Stigmata is the irretrievably hetaerogeneous, and here I am rewriting Spivak's \"hetero-geneous\" as hetdSrogeneous to conserve hetaerography's quiet or silent 33, this stigma-stitch-scar, which is the unmarked mark of an inaccessible, entirely other. Stigmata is the impossible ghcest \" in us\" and beyond \"us,\" the wound and disfigurement of the \"us\" (of \"us\" as an appropriating self), what exceeds \"us,\" brands \"us\" or writes \"us\" with a spear; it bleeds in \"us,\" and is re-morse, \"rendering delirious that interior voice that is the voice of the other in us\" (Derrida cited by Spivak, 1994a, 89). Again, we are our-selves, (or the self is) a re-morse, a morsel, a trace, the other, the trauma. I have attempted to write stigmata, to in-vent a hetaerogeneity. This radical or irretrievable hetaSrogeneity \"is\" the inaccessible \"woman,\" the inappropriable (hyper)\"lesbian.\" I say \"I have attempted\" because this enterprise necessarily involves a certain degree of failure because of the impossibility of writing about, and speaking of, the other. In other words, it presupposes an inabili ty to have access entirely to the other \"woman,\" the other \"lesbian,\" to master her. The aporias with which I have tried to \"articulate\" this other \"woman\" or \"lesbian\" convey this inability. The fact that \"one must always fail to appropriate alterity\" is an inevitable condition of hyperethico-political responsibility towards the other. We can never recover or master absolutely the other, and from this point of view \"[w]hether we wi l l it or not, we are responsible. We respond to the other, we are responsible for the other, even before any kind of freedom \u2014 in the sense of mastery. This responsibility \u2014 before freedom \u2014 is perhaps also what gives me my freedom\" (Derrida, 1995f, 384). This 237 responsibility is what stigmatizes all discourse on alterity, and in-flames it, sets it on fire. In the course of in-venting (in-coming) a deferred, irretrievable and advent other in the first chapter of the present study, I conceptualized an unrecognizable and indeterminate wholly other I called hetaerography or the ghcest. Bo th inventions were constructed so as to exceed all essentialist or (ph)allocentric attempts of exemplifying, identifying or retrieving the other as a particular category, whether this category was established on the basis of gender or on the basis of sex\/uality, and so on. The second chapter discussed the Argentinian Diana Bellessi's Eroica and critiqued this poetry's essentialist effort to recuperate alterity and difference exemplarily and exclusively as Woman and as Sexual Difference. There I suggested a number of other aporetic con-structs which, in their hyperethico-political implications, departed from hetaerography and the ghcest. These constructs expressed structural conditions of excess, or of the impos-sibility of the essentialist concepts of \"Woman,\" \"the feminine,\" \"feminine writ ing\" or \"sexual difference.\" Although these conditions of excess and indeterminacy were associ-ated with Argentina's poli t ical context of the disappeared, they overrun such a context. They were mainly understood as traumatic effects of self-difference as self-disappearance, self-disfigurement and self-transferral, by which any identity (in this case the exemplary identity \"Woman\") can constitute itself only by being a vanished, disfigured or defaced identity: that is, by being unrecognizable, by being absolutely unidentifiable and missing. This identity (\"Woman\" or \"Mother\") is utterly other. In that chapter I also proposed a radical, unheard-of feminism, or a feminism with-out feminism, which is an appeal or a call \u2014 a messianic promise, in Derrida's sense \u2014 to \"woman\" as the \"irretrievably hetaerogeneous,\" the tout autre. This hyperfeminism is an attempt to speak of a structurally incalculable, inappropriable and advent \"woman\" that disappears (from) all projects of ontological identification or eludes all enterprises that reduce her alterity to another variation of identity. This excessive feminism presupposes a \"feminine\" that has not yet appeared as such, is missing, the as yet impossible which \"is not the simple logical contradiction of the possible, but the terminus of a hope beyond hope, of a hope against hope, of a faith in what we cannot imagine or in any way foresee, a tout autre, beyond any present horizon of expectation\" (Caputo, 2000, 263). Hyperfeminism is 238 also another name for a radical hospitality that welcomes an incommesurable \"woman,\" a \"woman\" whom \"we cannot imagine or in any way foresee.\" Even the determination \"woman\" must remain always erasable, or at least not taken for granted: hyperfeminism welcomes the disappeared (woman), the ghcest. In the third chapter I ventured on deconstructing the essentialist category of sexuality and in particular a Lesbian aggressive and all-encompassing subjectivity, as claimed by the poetic discourse of the Chilean Soledad Farifia in Albricia. Constructs that denoted the excess of the essentialist category of \"Lesbian,\" and all selfhood in general, were pri-marily linked to the idea that all self-demarcation (whether sexual or not), all ontological boundaries of selfhood and identity, are structurally indeterminate: they are possible only as impossible-impassable. These constructs, which were im-properly named after Chilean poli t ical experiences of non-passage during Pinochet's mil i tary regime, and were in one way or another related to gay experiences, were also catachreses that overcame these two polit ical and sexual de-limitations. Impasse, 3Bndurance, death, valva, $Entiendes?, pas-sivity or com-passion, closet, come, etc., are aporetic expressions of overcoming all self-determinations: they represent selflessness, or the idea of a self losing itself and being surrendered to the other. They implied a self's vulnerability to alterity. Al ter i ty here is no one in particular: it is the impasse or loss of self. In the second chapter, to exceed Bellessi's essentialist category of \"Woman,\" I proposed hyperfeminism; in the third chapter dedicated to Farina's poetry, I elaborated a hyperles-bianism. This is a messianic (but non-utopic) lesbianism faithful to, and impassioned by, an impossible-impassable and always deferred and thus unencompassable \"lesbian.\" The not yet \"lesbian\" of this impassable lesbianism (mostly based on Mistral 's lesbianism), does not entail the repudiation or exclusion of the lesbian and of queerness in general. Lesbianism with-out lesbianism or infinite lesbianism \u2014 to recall Mis t ra l \u2014 is rather an affirmation of the \"lesbian\" as something \"irretrievably hetaerogeneous.\" It speaks of the \"lesbian\" as the ghcest \"who\" transgresses and even threatens all obvious or disguised pa-triarchal boundaries and l imits , \"homes\" and places of her domestication. As the ghcest this \"lesbian\" remains unconditionally loved, impossible to master and utterly unfinished, because \"she\" is yet without name, face, sexuality, gender, without any identification card issued for \"her\" within existing phallocentric parameters. \"She\" remains a stranger to these parameters or structures, an \"absolute surprise,\" always imminent and structurally coming, as the unthought-of other (the condition of possibility) of these heteronormative 239 hegemonies. Therefore \"she\" is a democratic force encrypted within them, undermining them, resisting them, representing their utter powerlessness to master \"her\" alterity. \"She\" is the \"lesbian\" promise, the other-to-come, a democratic promise, [which] like that of the communist promise, will always keep within it, and it must do so, this absolutely undetermined messianic hope at its heart, this eschato-logical relation to the to-come of an event and of a singularity, of an alterity that cannot be anticipated. Awaiting without horizon of the wait, awaiting what one does not expect yet or any longer, hospitality without reserve, welcoming salutation accorded in advance to the absolute surprise of the arrivant from whom or from which one will not ask anything in return and who or which will not be asked to commit to the domestic constracts of any welcoming power (family, State, nation, territory, native soil or blood, language, culture in general, even humanity), just opening to what is coming, that is, to the event that cannot be awaited as such, or recognized in advance therefore, to the event as the foreigner itself . . . (Derrida, 1994a, 65). This is hospitality without reserve to the \"messiah\" ghcest. Obviously, both hyperfeminism and hyper or messianic lesbianism owe most of their con-ceptual formation to deconstruction and to Derrida's \"messianic,\" as hope for democracy and justice. Caputo suggests that: Derrida's messianic is through and through an ethico-political idea, having to do all the way down with justice and a democracy to come . . . Deconstruction first arose at the end of totalitarianisms of the left and the right, of fascism and Stalinism, which was when deconstruction was first being forged. Deconstruction has assumed its most recent form as a witness to the surprising collapse of the Soviet Union . . . and its Eastern European bloc in the last decade, by the consequent resurgence of nationalism and neoconservatism, and by the alarming rise of fundamentalism. So Derrida's empty, desert-like messianic is determinately situated at the end of this century and is turned toward an \"absolute surprise\" and the possibility of the impossible . . . (Caputo, 1997a, 142) I consider also hyperfeminism and messianic lesbianism to be something like the \"signs of the endtimes,\" stigmata (or in John's apocalyptic Greek: semeia ton kairon; signs \u2014 in Greek semeia \u2014 are marks or stigmata). This is partly because in their \"ethico-poli t ical\" implications I see them linked to the end of Lat in American totalitarianism, and especially to the collapse of fascism in the case of Argentina and Chile . But it is 240 also because messianic feminism and lesbianism signal another downfall of another type of hegemony: they mark the end of phallocracy or the overthrow of the totalitarian ruling of the poet-fathers in Lat in America . It is not coincidental that hyperfeminism and infinite lesbianism have been inspired by, and are connected to, a \"new\" poetry that arose as a challenge to the literary totalitarianism of Lat in America's canon and was written by women, lesbians, gays. Hyperfeminism derives from this defiance, and owes some of its conceptualization to it. I have attempted to show that hyperfeminism\/lesbianism, as a radical democracy and justice to the other, is encrypted surreptitiously, or takes place under-couer, in both Bellessi's and Farina's poetic discourses and in spite of their feminist essentialism, so that Eroica,s and Albricia's essentialism ends up (unsuspectingly) speaking of an-other \"woman,\" an-other \"lesbian,\" and of the good news (albricia) of an alterity that st i l l remains unknown, unthought, unidentifiable, irretrievably hetOBrogeneous, and thus infinitely loved. Taking cover under Eroica's covers (textiles, masks), safeguarded in Albricia^ safes or folds (valva), this is a hetaero(-graphy) other than these discourses' essentialist Other. Eroica may be unmindful or deaf to this undercover other (its \"interior voice\"), but it bears \"her\" in secret, becoming thus an eroics or unconditional love offered to the excessive other \"woman.\" Similarly, Albricia is a gift of justice to, and passion for, the unfinished or non-assimilable \"lesbian.\" Together, these two works are a gift of eroics to the unthought-of other. Hyperfeminism and hyperlesbianism bear the stigmata, the mark(s) and even the wounds and the pain of the excluded, of the displaced feminine or lesbian. Chapters two and three, entitled \"The Disappeared (Other)\" and \"The Im-passable (Other)\" commemorate this fact. Hyperfeminism\/lesbianism are connected to what Castillo \u2014 speaking of Lat in America's male poetic canon \u2014 calls women's \"bitter experience as . . . disappeared poet[s] in the ' l i t t le house' of Argentine [and Chilean] prisons\" (Castillo, 1992, 52). 5 However, hyperfeminism\/lesbianism differs from Bellessi's and Farina's essentialist ap-proach in that it is not a dialectical approach that seeks to vindicate and essentialize an excluded, disparaged and vanished Other, and in so doing inverts the phallocentric di-chotomy and therefore leaves i t intact. Hyperfeminism\/lesbianism implies that the \"little houses\" and prisons in general are what must disappear altogether, and become impossi-241 ble. Ult imately, it is phallocracy and polit ical despotism that give rise to these confinement \"homes\" and their prisoners, to mass graves and entombed vict ims, the displaced or the missing, including the disappeared woman or the silenced lesbian. It is phallocracy itself that hyperfeminism\/lesbianism seeks to displace, collapse, vanish, entomb, eclipse entirely. What matters here is not so much \"who is\" the disappeared and \"who does\" the disap-pearing acts. The identity of both is only relevant to a certain degree. What matters more is that there exists a violent structure \u2014 whether one calls it \"conceptual\" or \"concrete,\" \"real,\" etc. \u2014 of mastery and of displacements, whose effects someone or other suffers. In fact, it is only when we begin to understand that what is at fault is the power structure itself, rather than \"who\" exercises it and upon \"whom,\" that we can begin to understand how to resist and undermine this structure. The point is not who has the power and who is the powerless, because as Mohanty argues: The major problem with such a definition of power is that it locks all revolutionary struggles into binary structures \u2014 possessing power versus being powerless . . . If the struggle for a just society is seen in terms of the move from powerless to powerful . . . then the new society would be structurally identical to the existing organization of power relations, constituting itself as a single inversion of what exists. (Mohanty, 1994, 213) Hyperfeminism\/lesbianism seeks to escape from, and exceed any power structure and its horrors of exclusions. What this means is that this excessive feminism cannot perpetuate patriarchy, for example, by giving it another name and another face (woman's). It would rather move beyond what exists, beyond the reality of patriarchy, or any hegemony and that hegemony's inversion and strive to disappear them both. Note that I am not saying that hyperfeminism would withdraw itself from reality in general and become a utopian idea. I must emphasize that it would remove itself from (or rather become unable to be cir-cumscribed by or in) the violent terms of repressive realities. Here the distinction between \"reality\" and \"repressive reality\" is very important. It means that although hyperfeminism threatens real and present exclusionary realms, it does not allow itself to be determined by, or become part of them. In other words, as their unthought condition, it does not let itself be repressed by the violent realities it unsettles. (It is heterogenous to them, it is dif-ference\/otherness beyond a repressive same.) Hyperfeminism would rather destabilize this hegemonic reality, this here and now we live in and in which lesbians, women and countless 242 anonymous others everyday and everywhere continue to be hated, battered, bashed, raped, vanished, imprisoned, tortured, assassinated. Hyperfeminism resists this violent world, and abhors profoundly such a world's current, and very concrete terrors happening in this here and now, in a historical present \u2014 to use Marx ' s words \u2014 that can be called Argentina, Chile , E l Salvador, Guatemala, Lat in America , the Balkans, Somalia, Palestine, in this world that can be called pain and wounds, suffering, stammering blood, anguish, stigmata. Hyperlesbianism is \"infinitely intolerant\" to injustice and violence committed against any people or \"minorities,\" and demonstrates itself as a crisis wi th in \/of all power structures. This is why this messianic feminism is turned away from all current power or any \"-archy\" and towards what cannot exist yet, in the terms of actual hegemonic structures. It is the possibility of the impossible, of a \"future\" democracy and justice. Hyperfeminism is the possibility of deconstruction . .. [which is] a certain experience of the emancipatory promise; it is perhaps even the formality of a structural messianism . . . without religion . . . an idea of justice \u2014 which we distinguish from law or right and even from human rights \u2014 and an idea of democracy \u2014 which we distinguish from its current concept and from its determined predicates today. (Derrida on his messianism, 1994a, 59) This democracy and justice which I designate as hyperfeminism\/lesbianism is a radical reaction to violence and to injustice: it originates from the pain of al l those that in this historical present are displaced, disappeared, disfigured and wounded, and bears their stigmata (as well as their name as in \"infinite lesbian-ism\"). Signalling the endtimes of injustice and burning with great love for the unanticipated ghcest, hyperfeminism is inspired by Mistral 's lesbianism, in which the other (\"woman,\" \"lesbian\") remains messianic or irretrievable, and radically hetaerogenous. As Mis t ra l might say, there is only one gift of eroics and of absolute hospitality we can offer to the other that does not domesticate the stranger or violate her alterity: to wait for her imminent arrival. To listen, To listen, To listen, to the night like a valve, with a greyhound flank or a black as the raven's sight and to tremble and be faithful waiting till dawn 243 Post-Scriptum Having concluded this study, I began to think of the blind spots of my own discourse critiquing Diana Bellessi's and Soledad Farina's poetic work. I started to ponder on how these two poets might react to my analysis and my interpretation of their feminist tac-tics. How would they and other feminists respond to my deconstructive approach? What might be some of the effects of my discussion on theorists who may not share the same \"methodological\" framework? Judi th Butler suggests a kind of feminist democratization that consists of acknowledging that our emancipatory \"strategies always have meanings that exceed the purposes for which they are intended. In this case, exclusion itself might qualify as such an unintended yet consequential meaning\" (Butler, 1990, 4-5). I have cited Butler 's wise words earlier in this study to critique both Bellessi's and Farina's essentialist feminism and its strategies (which were in my view politically ineffective). Now I real-ize that Butler 's warning is equally valid for my own strategies (or inventions) and their \"unintended meaning.\" The question that arose from this realization was how to democratize my discourse and acknowledge its own violences or exclusions. I am aware that my writ ing may be received as being exclusive (above all) of Diana Bellessi and Soledad Farina (and their feminism), a point that I attempted to emphasize in dealing with the (\"ethical\") theme of betrayal and faithfulness in Chapter II while discussing Bellessi's \"Woman.\" I do betray Bellessi and Farina (and their feminist politics), but remain loyal to their struggle and its motivation to resist women's marginalization. I critique their text but also draw from their poetics, tropes and themes great inspiration, and see them as radical figures of the feminine and of feminist struggle. I sell out their identity politics, \"Woman\" and myself as Woman (and mother), and still remain faithful to an otherness that is linked to feminine or lesbian figures. M y approach may alienate (and even horrify) many feminists who \"believe that, without seeing women as a coherent identity, we cannot ground the possibility of a feminist poli t ical movement\" (Mouffe, 1992, 371). Cornell however, writ ing against such a coherent identity of woman (and womanhood), points out that: Sensitivity to issues of racial and national difference has led many feminists to argue for the \"inessential woman.\" What it means to be a \"white\" middle-class woman and what it means to be a \"black\" working-class woman is understood to be so radically different that the very idea of a common experience of womanhood is rejected as part of a racist society that cannot 244 truly confront the other women. (Cornell, 1993, 189) I may have been disloyal to the essential Woman (or the homogeneous term \"women\") and opened her to issues of poli t ical , ethical, racial, ethnic difference and in that sense I have argued for, and have been faithful to, the \"inessential woman.\" The purpose of my discussion was to question certain assumptions, to force us as feminists to rethink some of our basic definitions and be ever vigilant for weaknesses, errors, and unjust attitudes on our part. I may be perceived also as betraying the interests or rights of women and ultimately reinstating the patriarchal law which Bellessi's and Farifia's poetry sets out to defy. M y study constantly contests all identities and for many feminists contestation often translates into betrayal and complicity with those hostile to feminism. Druci l la Cornell writes that this is a kind of worry articulated by many feminists who find feminism to be incompatible with post-structuralism and Derrida's deconstruction of identity categories: Seyla Benhabib argued that the alliance between feminism and so-called post-structuralism is, at best, uneasy. Her worry \u2014 and it is a worry frequently articulated in feminist political critiques of deconstruction and postmodern philosophy more generally \u2014 is that Jacques Derrida's deconstruction of gender identity reinstates the patriarchal view of Woman as the mysterious Other, without a knowable essence, substance or identity. Feminists, on the other hand, have militantly rejected the so-called nonidentity of Woman as one more mystification that justifies the subordination of actual women . . . Ultimately, however, this reading misunderstands the ethical and political significance of Derrida's deconstruction of the structures of gender identity, as it is defined as a hierarchy which privileges the masculine. I emphasize the ethical and political significance of this deconstruction because my purpose is less to set the record straight than to show instead what we, as feminists and civil-rights activists, stand \"to gain\" from a reinterpretation of Derrida's specific deconstructive intervention . . . (Cornell, 1992, 280) M y aim here is not to defend deconstruction (or Derrida) or give a detailed description of Cornell 's ingenious feminist reinterpretation of deconstruction (which in turn informs my own approach). It is, however, necessary to admit that, like Cornell , I believe that feminism and feminist activism can only \"gain\" from Derrida's ethico-political work de-constructing al l power structures \u2014 including that of gender hierarchy. Cornell 's feminist \"ethical deconstruction,\" which deals with actual subjects, women and the legal system \u2014 and is not just another theoretical approach or utopia removed from the \"real world\" (a 245 common accusation directed by many feminists against deconstructive feminism) \u2014 pro-poses equivalent rights for women. Cornell 's equivalent rights advocate an affirmation of the feminine that cannot appeal to present, or existing power structures and \"can never be reduced to its [the feminine's] current definitions\" (Cornell , 1993, 6) within the actual heteronormative or masculine symbolic: \" A n y attempt to appeal to femininity, as currently defined within the gender hierarchy, wi l l recreate the equality\/difference divide that my conception of equivalency seeks to challenge, because these definitions embody the projec-tion of Woman as 'not man' and, therefore, as not equal to man\" (Cornell, 1993, 7). The equivalency that Cornell proposes and that I espouse \"does not demand that the basis of equality be likeness to men\" (Cornell, 1992, 283). In another instance she writes that: These rights are equivalent because they allow difference to be recognized without women having to show that they are like men for legal purposes or having to make sacrifices because of the specificity of our \"sex,\" which makes us \"unlike\" men. If there is a vision of equality that justifies equivalent rights, it is equality of welfare. We need a vision of equality if we are to protect equivalent rights from degenerating into a new defense of separate but equal . . . Sen defines equality of welfare and capability as follows: \"Capability reflects a person's freedom to choose between different ways of living.\" Such a view of equality is important for . . . it allows for the respect and recognition of diversity and different lifestyles. (Cornell, 1993, 155). Cornell opts for equivalent rather than equal rights because equivalency recognizes the dif-ference\/otherness of the feminine or homosexuality \"which should not have to match itself to heterosexual [or masculine] arrangements in order to justify itself\" (Cornell, 1992, 290). I have tried to establish this equivalency or respect for the radical difference\/hetaerogeneity of women and lesbians by questioning Bellessi's and Farina's feminine or lesbian alterity as a counterpart to man, or as negative or positive images of (fore-)fathers. To paraphrase Cornell , it seemed appropriate to me to recognize Bellessi's and Farina's diversity (capa-bility, equality, and freedom, as defined by Sen and Cornell) without having to show how they are like men or how their poetry can match itself to the poetry of (fore-)fathers in order to justify itself. In this sense, equivalency means for me to affirm (or construct) their (wholly) otherness in relation to, or exceeding, the heterosexual or masculinist norms of the previous Lat in American canon (canon in Greek is norm, standard, principle, model, law, rule, etc.). 246 Cornell has defended equivalent rights for women by considering actual court cases of discrimination against women. I wi l l end this \"Post-Scriptum\" by articulating something analogous that concerns the \"actual\" 6 poets, Diana Bellessi and Soledad Farifia. W i t h i n Cornell 's \"ethical or messianic feminism\" of equivalent rights and what I call a democratic hyperfeminism, Bellessi (the woman and artist who writes poetry in Argentina) and Farina (the Chilean woman, lesbian, poet \u2014 if such definitions can be appropriate here) are the excessive woman and lesbian. Bellessi and Farina are not utopic or imaginary figures but \"real\" women and human beings and totally other (heterogeneous) and cannot be considered (and their work cannot be read) in terms of (or in their likeness or unlikeness) to men. A t least, in my view, they cannot and must not be seen quite yet as such. They are tout autre, equivalent or irreducible to one genre (that of the male), and that is true equality: [E]quality for women is not an empty dream . .. [that demands from women, or Bellessi and Farina as women that they] fashion their lives as men. Once we understand the centrality of the gender hierarchy to the restoration of patriarchal, nondemocratic, or only formally democratic social regimes, we can grasp why transformation in the lives of women is necessary if we are to achieve a true participatory democracy. For me, this insight is the truth in the radical feminist saying that the liberation of us all demands the liberation of women. (Cornell, 1993, 8-9) Notes 1. Cixous, 1998, 181. 2. \"I saw in his [the angel's] hands a golden long spear, and it seemed to me that at the tip of the iron there was a bit of fire. It appeared to me that he plunged the spear into my heart several times and that it reached to its core: when he removed it I felt that he was taking with him my innermost parts, leaving me burning with great love . . . \" (My translation; Santa Teresa de Jesus, 1975, 238). 3. Derrida, 1992, 303-4. 4. In Spivak's early theorization of the subaltern, her concept of subalternity is a catachresis and stands for Derrida's wholly other (tout-autre) or what I have designated here as the gh<Bst. Spivak cautions us: Subalternity is the name I borrow for the space out of any serious touch with the logic of capitalism or socialism . . . Please do not confuse it with unorganized labour, women as such, the proletarian, the colonized, the object of ethnography, migrant labour, political refugees, etc. Nothing useful comes out of this confusion. (Spivak cited by Moore-Gilbert, 1997, 101) 247 5. As an example relevant to Bellessi's Argentinian case, I will mention her compatriot and predecessor Julio Cortazar and the misogynous Rayuela (Hopscotch). This is a book that is, perhaps, one of the most infamous literary prisons within which woman, at least as a reader of literature, was buried, dismissed and despised in Latin America as a personification of \"ignorance . . . of the kind that destroys all the little gardens now planted where once there had been pleasure, poor little girl\" (Hopscotch's protagonist Oliveira speaking of la Maga and cited by Castillo, 1992, 48). I have attempted to deconstruct Cortazar's misogynous \"little house\" elsewhere. See my \"Rereading Rayuela: Hypergraphy, Hermaphrodism and Schizophrenia\" (2001) in Revista canadiense de estudios hispdnicos. 6. I put the word \"actual\" within quotation marks to indicate that I still maintain certain reservations with regard to this ethnographic category that presumes to know the true poets, or real women, Bellessi and Farina. The words \"actual\" and \"real\" are used here only provisionally and strategically. 248 Glossary1 39, diphthong: A n inaudible diacritical mark of difference between the two distinct \"oth-ers,\" heteros and heteros of hetaerography. A graphic allusion to a not-yet identified other, and the cancellation of exemplarity (see below) and specularity. (See pages 3, 5-12, 23-25 . See also exemplarism, a^te.) dBndurance : This is a structure inseperable from that of valva and impasse (see below). It is a catachrestic invention that plays with: a) The diphthong aa of hetaerogra-phy or the ghcest, evoking an indeterminate, \"future,\" or not-yet other; b) Levinas's radical passivity as utter selflessness, as offering oneself to the other; c) Derrida's surviving one's own self-impossibility or enduring one's own death in the sense of self-mortification (and not as actual k i l l ing or dying). Because Endurance presup-poses the self's suffering of its own end, or the traumatic sacrifice of all selfhood, it is sometimes called here radical or hyperlesbian com-passion or infinite love and justice to the other, beyond \"her\"\/\"his\" reduction to self. ^Endurance often appears as the hyperlesbian dead time (a quasi-synonym of differance) when an exemplary self is deferred and has not yet come to be or exist, and entails a postponed Les-bian subjectivity. 2 It is therefore linked to hyperlesbianism or messianic lesbianism. (See pages 146, 212-213. See also ghcest, hetaerography, diphthong ae, a^te, valva, impasse, hyperlesbianism or messianic lesbianism.) Allocentrism: A metaphysical discourse grounded in a singular and exclusive category of Other identified ontologically, sexually, existentially, ideologically, racially, biologi-cally or anthropologically (and so on). Allocentrism is also an emancipatory discourse of the Other whom it privileges and on whom it is itself founded. (See pages 2, 32-33. See also (ph)allocentrism, homoiophylophilia and exemplarism.) As Such: A term derived from a phenomenological and ontological vocabulary, used to indicate that a category of Other appears as a determined essence, as being-present, as substance or existence (for example, as human substance or appearance). As such usually means that the Other is already a pre-established and absolute category of 249 identity with proper (essentialist) attributes. Any Other that appears is an as such, or an essence and therefore such an Other is no longer other. a ^ e : A play derived from hetaerography's diphthong, ae, signifying a strategy of self-effacement or self-defacement, whereby a metaphysical concept of Al ter i ty is simul-taneously maintained and put under erasure. It implies any metaphysical Alter i ty 's own im-possibility, i.e. what I call hetaerography. It also represents the wound of utter self-susceptibility and evokes a number of traumatic effects whereby all deter-minable Others as such are constituted by being entirely other than themselves or by being otherwise than such essentialist or self-identical Others. (See pages 3, 34-38. See also ae, diphthong.) C a p u c h a : A Spanish word that literally means cowl. It is derived here from an Argen-tinian polit ical context and alludes ambivalently and simultaneously to collaboration with a mili tary junta and to this junta's victims wearing the hood and being taken away to be kil led. It implies both loyalty and treason, the traitor and the betrayed. A unique Other (such as Woman, for example) maintains \"her\" primacy over other others. \"She\" remains faithful to \"her\" own Alter i ty by betraying or excluding other others whose alterity is less significant than \"hers.\" \"She,\" therefore, responds eth-ically to \"her\" own Alter i ty while being irresponsible in regard to others. \"She\" disappears (excludes) other others. Following Derrida's aporetic \"gift of death,\" Woman gives a gift of betrayal and disappearance to \"her\" others. (See pages 52, 106, 128-131. See also rostro, el desaparecido, el trasladado.) C l o s e t : This word, drawn from queer vocabulary, relates most obviously to the well-known repressive concept of the closet as this term is understood within gay studies. How-ever, my use of the term goes beyond the category of homosexuality, as well as the repressive concept of \"closet\" itself. This hyperlesbian closet exceeds and threatens all repressive structures, ontological categories and delimitations, including those of heterosexuality, bisexuality, gender, sex, man, woman, and so on. This is a cat-achrestic or \"improper\" invention that implies the radical encryption or concealment of all identity, or any ontological essence or ground, as such, since all such identity 250 is ultimately its own closet (self-retreat, self-withdrawal or deferral). Linked to Der-rida's secret, the closet is the safeguarded, unrecognizable and inappropriate\/d other, as opposed to the other coming out as essence and being known\/revealed (identified, de-fined). The closet is the impossible and unaffirmed other that remains unforsee-able and incalculable. It is associated with the messianic as a promise of the \"advent\" lesbian (always delayed, to come). (See pages 143-144, 171-173, 187-190, 218-219. See also hyperlesbianism or messianic lesbianism, come, $Entiendes?, tornadizo.) Come: This word is taken from a sexual context and refers in its most basic sense to: a) orgasmic coming; b) coming out from the closet, understood as a person disclosing her\/his homosexual identity. In a more radical sense, \"come\" refers to the messianic coming of an unidentifiable or impossible-impassable other, the stranger, the ghcest, the not-yet lesbian. W i t h i n and beyond (homo)erotic passion, \"come\" represents a passion for an incalculable, \"other to come, as an other that never arrives on time\" (Derrida, 1999b, 37). \"Come\" is not the apocalyptic disclosure of a Lesbian identity, but its radical concealment. I also call this \"come\" \"lesbian maran tha,\" giving feminine or lesbian traits to the image of the messiah and alluding to a messianic expression of prayer, meaning in Aramaic \"Lord, come.\" (See pages 141, 145, 179, 186, 223, 231-233. See also hyperlesbianism or messianic lesbianism, closet, ghcest, ^Entiendes?, impasse, ^endurance, tornadizo.) Daedalus : This is in one sense a reference to the mythical Greek god of crafts, sculpting, en-graving and writing, of graphics and glyphics. His name is another word for labyrinth, and etymologically at least is related to female genitalia. In myth he is Ariadne's helper. W i t h i n a poli t ical context Daedalus alludes to death as cavernous, crypts or prisons, and torture chambers where people are transferred out of sight, or disappear forever. In another sense, Daedalus exceeds the feminine or masculine, the mythical , the sexual or the poli t ical , when this name stands for the uncanny effects of self-difference or self-inscription that denote spectrality, specularity, shadows, replica-tion, and most of all disfigurement or self-effacement. This god of the a?be also implies: a) the exclusion and defacement that the exemplary feminine, maternal Other inflicts upon the others relegated secondary value; b) the traumatic \"writing\" 251 as self-disappearance and self-disfigurement that any exemplary self must suffer in order to be itself or return to its selfsame. (See pages 53, 55, 61, 73-79, 90, 95, 106, 112 115-117. See also hy(i)lography, rostro, puppet, a ? t e , el desaparecido, el trasladado.) Dance: This is a term connected to the pendular, non-dialectic dance of the puppet, and suggests sexual indeterminacy or disappearance of identity. Like the dance of the ragdoll, it is used to refer to a type of torture in Argentina called \"the dance.\" As a structure of alterity it means disfigurement of identity and denotes exemplarism's own self-defacement. (See pages 53, 118, 66-68, 103. See also Daedalus, exemplarism, puppet.) Desaparecido, el: This is the im-possible, figureless or unidentifiable other, beyond the unique Other as Woman or Mother, etc. El desaparecido is taken from Argentina's polit ical context, where it refers to those who ha,ve been \"disappeared,\" \u2014 kil led by the dictatorial exemplarism of fascist regimes. In this study it is transformed into a general effect of difference or alterity, which unsettles and defies all exemplarism and the resulting violence. W i t h regard to the exemplary and all-encompassing categories of Sexual Difference and \"Woman-Mother,\" el desaparecido is used in order: a) to put these exclusive categories into relation with their excluded other (i.e. the poli t ical and the ethical); b) to express their exemplarity as impossible and itself \"disappeared.\" (See pages 54, 61, 65, 80-85, 99, 100, 104, 108-121. See also el trasladado, Daedalus, puppet, shadow, ghcest, exemplarism.) zEntiendes?: This is almost a synonym of the term closet. $Entiendes? is an unde-cidable, double interrogative derived from a Hispanic queer context. W i t h i n the gay community it is a password that asks two questions simultaneously: \"Do you understand?\" and \"Are you queer?\". $Entiendes? conveys here indeterminacy, equivocation, the encryption of all ontological or essentialist de-finitions. It evokes here the as yet unaffirmed, uncertain, \"suspected to be\" but not assured and thus non-assimilable hyperlesbian other, or ghcest. (See pages 144, 190-190. See also closet, come, hyperlesbianism or messianic lesbianism, tornadizo.) 252 E x e m p l a r i s m or Exempla r i ty : A n essentialist, hierarchical and violent economy whereby a certain identifiable Other (an identity) becomes primary, unique, displacing and elevated above all others. Exemplar i ty is potentially an Other dangerous economy of exclusions and \"disappearances.\" (See pages 12-16.) Ghaest: A haunting invention and grafting together of hetaerography's differential diph-thong and notions of ghost, host and guest. It is a structure of spectrality, or another relation of impossibility by which any selfsame Other also posits itself as wholly other than itself and as stranger to itself. Connected to uncanny figures, it is the unencom-passable foreign in general and describes effects of haunting by which all self-identical and essentialist Alterities are constituted. (See pages 3, 20-24.) Hetaerography: A n invention of undecidable alterity. It implies two different others (heteros and hetaeros) and plays with effects of hospitality, hostility, spectrality, and hostage taking. It represents the impossibility of all identifiable and essentialist Others. In its connection to writ ing it evokes Derrida's differential use of (archi-) writing as difference-deferral. (See pages 1-3, 5-8, 11, 16-19.) Hetaeronymics: A \"methodological\" approach that is applied to the texts I read here. It takes into account: a) Derrida's paleonymics, as a strategy of creating new struc-tures of difference based on old concepts or names; b) Derrida's notion of invention as a tactic used to construct im-possible alterities; c) hetaerography as such a gen-eral im-possible alterity, by which hetaeronymics aims at creating others which are other, and more radical, than any exemplary or metaphysical concept of the Other. Hetaeronymics names something other than a metaphysical Alteri ty. It names the tactical maneuver of reading an exclusionary or exemplary discourse deconstructively, to produce or reveal such a discourse's own im-possibility. (See page 62. See also invention, hetaerography, exemplarism.) His tology: Also used as histo-onto-logy. Histos means primari ly tissue. Histology is a type of \"feminist,\" maternal (ph)allocentric ontology, which uses the trope of textiles to convey the essentialist category of feminine writing as maternal weaving, in order to restore Woman's ontological status. Histology reclaims Woman's proper being, 253 body, materiality, voice and own means of expression, represented by textiles. (See pages 93-96. See also (ph)allocentrism.) Homoiophylophi l i a : B y phonetic resemblance, etymological connections and conceptual associations, this term is a grafting of concepts such as homogeneity, sameness, self-hood, identity, with notions of home, but also includes the French homme and the Spanish hombre. The word phylon refers to people, tribe, race, genus (and by exten-sion, genealogy), and to the sex of a person, suggesting a connection between gender, sexuality and nationalism. Philia is friendship or love, used here as an allusion to nar-cissistic self-love or the love of the same. Homoiophylophilia describes a violent and metaphysical economy, whereby a singular Other posits itself as a homogeneous and self-identical category of proper attributes. The keywords are \"the homo-genous\" and \"the proper,\" which imply the assimilation of the Other into a linguistic and conceptual unitary category of (self)sameness: i.e. the univocal word \"Other.\" Ho-moiophylophilia returns the Other to itself, to its own (proper) self. It makes the Other feel at home wi th itself and wi th its proper essence. In this study, the play of property, home and selfsameness (homoiotes) is sometimes conveyed by the word homoio-oiko-nomy, where oikos is Greek for home. The duplicity of hetaerography's hetaeros runs counter to the homoiophylophilic and unitary name \"Other:\" hetaerog-raphy's hetaeros resists the univocality, homogeneity, and self-identity of the concept \"Other.\" (See pages 2, 17, 22-24, 163-167.) Hy( i ) lography: A term referred to also as hy(i)loglyphics. It is a word that combines the Greek hyle, meaning matter, and the Spanish hilo, meaning thread. Graphy is a reference to writing and glyphics is an allusion to a violent writing, sculpting and en-graving. Hy(i)lography is an invention to evoke an excessive and figureless alterity that, although it mimes the essence of \"Woman\" (and \"feminine writ ing\" as weaving), simultaneously implies her traumatic disappearance and effacement. (See pages 52, 79-85. See also Daedalus, puppet, el desaparecido, el trasladado) Hyper femin ism: This term refers to the invention of an im-possible and radical feminism that relates feminism and its subject(s) (\"woman,\" \"mother\") to its others. It is also 254 referred to as feminism with-out feminism. It evokes an excess or hyperbole of all fem-inist essentialism. It moves beyond the (ph)allocentrism that surrounds such a con-cept and critiques the narcissistic way this type of feminism auto-contemplates itself. Hyperfeminism speaks of an im-possible Woman, a ghcest, as an other yet-to-come. (See pages x i i - x i i i , 46-46, 57-60, 66-68, 99-104, 238-243. See also (ph)allocentrism, exemplarism, invention, ghcest.) H y p e r l e s b i a n i s m or M e s s i a n i c L e s b i a n i s m : This also appears as lesbianism with-out lesbianism, and denotes an indeterminate, deferred, unforseeable \"lesbian(ism)\" that cannot be mastered, known or appropriated by any essentialist discourse. In les-bianism with-out lesbianism the with-out conveys: a) this hyperfeminist invention's min imal relationship with the essentialist category of the Lesbian; b) a simultane-ous going-beyond this exemplary concept. Hyperlesbianism allies itself always with the displaced (other) and is linked to democracy and to justice as a continuous de-construction, critique of, and intervention in all present violent structures that are responsible for the repression of all alterity, including that of the lesbian. It is the democratic crisis wi thin\/of hegemony. Hyperlesbianism is associated with democracy, because it means the end of mastery and signifies the powerlessness that structures and precedes all hegemonic systems. The \"hyper\" of hyperlesbianism denotes the excess, and deferral (or impassability-impossibility) of al l such systems. Hyperles-bianism is also another name for a radical passion or love that means the loss of all masterful selfhood and the surrendering of self to the other. The \"messianic\" is understood in terms of Derrida's \"messianicity\" which is not anything directly con-nected to any actual messianic movements, but implies the idea of a promise, as an originary opening of oneself to alterity, to the unknown ghcest or the wholly other. Messianic lesbianism is understood as a lesbianism that is structurally \"to come,\" in the sense of being impossible to conceptualize and confine within present masculine ideals, their parameters, or any existing violent or heteronormative structures. (See pages x i i - x i i i , 139, 142, 157-159, 165-166, 168, 172, 176, 177-180, 186-188, 203-217, 238-243. See See also hyperfeminism, come, tornadizo.) Impasse : This expresses the non-passage or impossibility of the self. It is connected to 255 Levinasian hyperethical notions of radical passivity and death, in the sense of the loss of selfhood and in the sense of surrendering oneself to the other. A t its most basic level, impasse alludes to political experiences of non-passage, exclusion and prohibi-tion from which lesbianism also has suffered in Lat in America . It recalls the password no pasardn used by resistance and revolutionary forces in Chile against Pinochet's despotism. Impasse is also related to homoerotic passion, but here it implies a trau-matic, hyperlesbian passion, that signifies the end of all types of exemplarism and of the violence that actually or potentially accompanies such exemplarism. These terms convey that all de-term-ination, boundaries, l imits , etc., are structurally undecidable, that is, impossible-impassable. (See pages 144-146, 164-168, 176, 196-202, 204-208. See also valva, ^Endurance, exemplarism, messianic lesbianism.) I n v e n t i o n : This is a \"concept\" used here to refer to all the \"words\" that are invented and introduced in this study to imply an impossible and non-appropriable otherness. Invention is a \"['messianic'] structure of the future event\" (avenir) or of the ad-vent other as an im-possibility (Derrida, 1989c, 28) that never appears and can never be circumscribed exemplarily as anyone or anything in particular. (See pages 20-21.) O r g a n : A t a first level this term refers to bodily organs, to representations of puppets as organs of instrumentality and manipulation, to a deformed ragdoll or dis-membered body, and to linguistic articula-tion or disarticulation. B y etymological association, organ is linked to organic tissue and to Greek words for artistic work, weaving (loom and fabrics), and by extension to the essentialist category of feminine writing. A t a second level, the word organ acquires hyperfeminist and hyperethical significations. It is used to insinuate the disarticulation and disfigurement of all exemplary mastery, organized systems or hegemony of the unique. It denotes the figureless other and the idea that a masterful self is also at the same time its dismembered and excluded others. In regard to speech and writing, organ also implies a \"language\" and a traumatic hy(i)lographics-glyphics that exceeds speech and writ ing and any language in their l i teral sense. Organ also represents a \"language\" of agony meaning that any identity and its expressions are or speak the inarticulate shouts of torment, and the \"stammering of blood\" of the other, her\/his anguish, disappearance, or pain. We are 256 cut beings and speak wound-words. (See pages 83, 108-110, 114, 122-126. See also puppet, hy(i)lography, hyperfeminism, exemplarism, EL DESAPARECIDO.) ( P h ) a l l o c e n t r i s m : A variant of allocentrism that plays with the Greek alios for Other and phallus. The exclusionary discourse called \"allocentrism\" here is a reversed ego-centrism, in which a unique Other is constructed as a narcissistic self; (ph)allocentrism denotes any essentialist feminist discourses that recognize and privilege specifically a female Other, transforming this Other into an all-encompassing and displacing Alios , exactly like a phallus erected above all others. (Ph)allocentrism ironically indicates that essentialist feminist discourses, although claiming to critique Western phallo-centrism, perpetuate it. It is only the hierarchy of the binary terms that changes, the violent system of opposition remains intact. (See page 57. See also allocentrism, exemplarism, homoiophylophilia.) P u p p e t : This term (also considered in connection to statues) is used in a hetaerographic sense, and not in the sense of puppets as artistic objects or cultural products. Be-cause of its oscillating dance, \"puppet\" is another hyperfeminist image that conveys alterity as indeterminacy beyond the binary oppositions feminine\/masculine, het-erosexual\/homosexual, etc. Connected to poli t ical disappearance and the disfigured ragdoll, the puppet describes a phantasmatic and uncanny vanishing of all identity, and exemplarism. It is the figureless other, the ghcest beyond recognition, beyond the exemplary category of the Other identified as Woman or Mother, etc. (See pages 53, 54, 66-74, 76-79, 100, 104, 118. See also dance, exemplarism, hy(i)lography, ghcest, el desaparecido, shadow, organ.) R e t a b l o or \" r e t a b l e \" : This Spanish word combines a number of different significations. In its architectural meaning it is an altarpiece and reredos. It is also used to indicate a puppet show or display. Here retablo recalls Lat in American altars to commemorate the dead during the celebration of the Day of the Dead. As \"re-table,\" the word is evocative of a writer's table, and also an operating or torture \"table,\" upon which the brutalized body of al l exemplarism is left like a lifeless puppet or a ragdoll, as i f in a violent spectacle. In an excessive, hetaerographic sense, retablo suggests: a) A n 257 exemplary self as an altar to the other, to the ghest which such a self wants to exclude or disappear. A self as alter (Lat in for other), since like its others, it is missing. A self resembles a commemorative altar, in that it becomes those whom it displaces, b) Retablo is self-inscription, a traumatic \"writing,\" \"scarring\" or \"sculpting,\" in the hyperethical sense that one is oneself always the wound, anguish or pain of the other. (See pages 76, 105. See also Daedalus, ghcest, a?te, el desaparecido, puppet, exemplarism.) R h y t h m : This term retains its usual connections to music and poetry, but is also other than poetic rhythm, since it denotes \"writ ing\" in the sense of Derrida's archi-writing as self-difference, and inscription as self-deferral. R h y t h m is another name here for differance or what Derrida calls spacing, interval, the not-yet of dead time. In these terms rhythm must not be confused with oral, written, or corporeal language, with speech or writing, with music or poetry, etc. It conveys the hyperlesbian \"language\" of the ghcest in the sense that such a \"language,\" strictly speaking, is not a language but a self-hetaerogeneity. (See pages 219-222.) R o s t r o : This is an ambivalent Spanish word that means simultaneously face, mask and beak. In my hetaerographic context rostro suggests an aporetic giving and taking away of faces: figuration and disfiguration. Although rostro evokes the disfigured or tortured body, it exceeds these connotations. More radically, it implies an originary trauma, the phantasmatic self-disappearance and self-defacement which make any identity or self possible. In a hyperfeminist, hyperethico-political sense, rostro is the not-yet other, or not-yet woman, the impossible and unrecognizable ghcest. It is the wound, the facelessness or effacement of all exemplarism and mastery, and the figureless other, to whom we owe absolute hospitality. (See pages 83-85, 99-104, 105. See also a^be, capucha, el desaparecido, ghcest, Daedalus, hyperfeminism, exemplarism.) S h a d o w : This word conveys effects of haunting and spectrality, the uncanny double, and alludes to shadow puppetry. In an excessive sense, it implies something other than this theatrical expression, and is closely linked to the significations which I have given 258 to the puppet or ghcest, suggesting unheimlich figurelessness, the disappearance of all essence and exemplary categories of Alteri ty. Shadow is the ghcest, the missing, unidentified, disappeared, or the unrecognizable other\/self. (See pages 73, 80, 98, 100. See also puppet, exemplarism, el desaparecido, el trasladado.) T o r n a d i z o : This word signifies renegade, turncoat, or apostate. It is drawn from a Me-dieval, religious and poli t ical Spanish context in which it was employed to allude to a convert, a M u s l i m , or Jew being coerced into Christianity. Moving wi thin and be-yond that context, the term, which is related to \"tornar\" or to alter, is itself altered and becomes a codeword that means something else: suspicion or encryption of all self-identical or exemplary categories, including here the essentialist determination of the Lesbian. It acquires hyperlesbian \"ethical\" significations, since it entails a surrendering (offering) of al l selfhood to alterity, a betrayal of self or turning oneself (m)to the other. (See pages 222-230. See also valva, hyperlesbianism or messianic lesbianism, closet, ^Entiendes?, come.) Trasladado, el: This is almost a synonym of el desaparecido, derived from an Argentinian vocabulary of dictatorial terror. It refers to a polit ical prisoner transferred to an unknown destination to vanish forever. Recalling this signification, but also altered hetaeronymically into something else, el trasladado (also used as traslado, or transfer) names the postponement or self-displacement that a unique and exclusive self must suffer in order to be itself or return to its selfsame. Simply put: any self is originally impossible or not-yet itself. A self is transferred out of itself or it is from the start disappeared. (See pages 62, 108-121. See also el desaparecido, Daedalus, puppet, shadow, ghcest.) V a l v a : A t first sight, this term drawn from a Lesbian poetic vocabulary is associated with vulva and indirectly or minimal ly points to a feminine corporeal specificity. Here valva becomes an originary alterity or difference, an undecidable \"concept\" in-between b i -nary opposites such as feminine and masculine. It denotes an aporetic in-betweenness and not oppositional categories such as hetero\/homo or bisexuality. Valva is the im-possibility or im-passe of all oppositional determinations or ontological l imits (terms) 259 and all dialectics: the halting dead-end of the de-limitation of the other when this other is converted into an identity biologically or genitally defined, e.g. as Lesbian. Valva implies an im-possible, paradoxical, as yet uncertain and indeterminate hyper-lesbian. (See pages 146-150, 180-186, 191-203. See also impasse, hyperlesbianism or messianic lesbianism, ^Endurance, tornadizo.) Notes 1. The construction of a glossary listing the definitions of a. number of terms used in this study is provisional. 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A n English translation follows each Spanish original, and all translations are mine. 1 Prom Diana Bellessi's Eroica (1988) First Poem Tienta la seda del vacfo cerco levantado a lo insaciable como alza un bailarm con inflnita gracia su rostro tras una mascara Tienta la textura en sombra donde el sueiio nace Tatuada sobre el cuerpo que tienta y responde de pleno deseo Quien escucha a quien habla 279 Rotacion del signo Entrar a los dominios de quien entra dentro de m i Dejados por la marea se mecen en los bajios arrecifes de camelias E l ojo pasa U n circulo sobre aguas Pico Bagre de panza plateada Bata l la Ahogo y hambre perdiendose en el rio Abiertas alas Aire de bigua encendido Cada escena genera otra ^Aisladas sobre un retablo interminable? Composicion Tras la marea baja un bosque de bambues E l l a salta Joyeria 280 minuscula de la hierba salt a rostro muerto de todas las especies salta \/rana? bebe hacia el pas ado I salt a? ^apresada en acto de futuro miniatura fosil en mi mano el ojo pas a? Protagonista doble describo para que escriba dentro de mi E n el vasto silencio ^de las islas mecidas por el agua? marea alta sus pasos suenan sobre el rumor de una cinta velada E l papel habla 281 Tienta la textura en sombra U n vacfo l lama de pleno deseo Ven hagamos el amor A l m a (81-84) Translation It tempts and touches 2 raised like a dancer lifts behind a mask the silk of emptiness fence at the insatiable with infinite grace [his] face It tempts and touches the shadowy texture 3 where the dream is born Tatooed on the body which tempts and touches and W h o listens to whom it speaks responds full of desire Spinning of signs 282 Entering in the domains of whom enters inside me Abandoned by tides reefs of camellias swing in the shallows The eye passes A circle on waters Beak A silver belly catfish Batt le Drowning and hunger being lost in the river Open wings A i r of bigua in flames Each scene generates another Isolated on an endless retablel Composition Behind the tides a bamboo forest appears 283 It [\"she\"]leaps miniscule jewelry of cotton grass It [\"she\"] leaps dead face of all species leaps a frog? a baby towards the past It [\"she\"] leaps? seized in a future act fossilized miniature in my hand the eye passes? Twice a protagonist I describe so that \"he\" [\"it\"] writes inside me In the vast silence of islands rocked by waters? High tides \"his\" [\"its\"] steps are heard in the murmur of a veiled tape The paper speaks 284 \"He\" [\"it\"] tempts and touches full of desire the shadowy texture A n emptiness calls Come let's make love Soul (81-84) Second Poem E l texto el cuerpo comun avanza y elige la sutileza de la pierda para ser un Pueblo que cruza la gran distancia Torsos oceanicos colas nalgas de pez y de sirena los pechos que cruzaron la niebla del agua del suefio voraz el cuerpo la imagen del texto vivo particulas que laten rosa rojo amniotico tiempo de mar sujeto a la gloria Solo esta (23) 285 Translation The text the common body is advancing and chooses the subtlety of the stone in order to be a People that crosses the great distance Oceanic torsos tails buttocks of fish and of mermaid that crossed the water mist of the voracious dream the body the image of the l iving text particles that are palpitating rose red amniotic sea's time subject to the glory Only that (23) Third Poem Salgo E l mundo se aboveda en pianos vastos echado sobre m i Lobotomfa melancolia que traba el gesto la palabra Salgo 286 Todavia es el verano y la cigarra sigue Sigue la cigarra como si nada Senores y senoras: aqufhubo un tumulto una tormenta de sangre tartajeada \u2022 organizando la deliciosa materia organica en orgonas en orgotas en organigramas que ni siquiera las celulas atisban en su lento suefio de plasma Aquf hubo tumulto de electrica pesada y voz en hilo fino tejiendo el sortilegio sangrante rock 'nd roll Llorar es llorar Foto 287 apresando el acto deliberado de fijar P inza y bisturi P i cana E l cuerpo abajo confesando la trampa Pedro y el lobo Gr i t a Pedro en las fauces del lobo y el Pueblo piensa: es un sueno L a trampa de Pedro que imagina al lobo en acecho Punetazo contra piano abovedado Trocadas imagen y palabra bajo el sol del golfo se desoye A l mar (56-58) Translation I am coming out The world is being vaulted Una mancha de sangre sobre el marmol 288 under vast plains 4 [and is] thrown over me Lobotomy melancoly that stammers 5 the gesture the word I am coming out It is st i l l summer and the grasshopper continues The grasshopper continues as if it did not matter Gentlemen and Ladies: there was here a turmoil an upheaval of stammering blood organizing the delicious organic matter in orgones in orgotes in organgrams that not even the cells discern in their slow sleep of plasma There was turmoil here of stodgy electrics and voice 289 in fine thread weaving the spell bleeding rock 'nd roll To cry is to cry [A] photograph [is] seizing the act deliberately fixed Pincers and scalpel Goad The body down confessing the trap A blood stain on the marble Peter and the wolf Peter is shouting at the wolf's fauces and the People is thinking Peter's trap who is imagining the wolf to be on the watch is just a dream Punch against [a] vaulted plain is ignored from the gulf To the sea Exchanged are image and word 290 under the sun (56-5S) 6 From Soledad Farina's Albricia (1988) Gabriela Mistral''s Cited Poem Oir, Oir, Oir la noche como valva, con ijar de lebrel o vista acornejada y temblar y ser fiel esperando hasta el alba (7) Translation To listen, To listen, To listen to the night like a valve, with a greyhound 7 flank or a black as the raven's 8 sight and to tremble and be faithful waiting t i l l dawn. (7) First Poem V I A J O E N M I L E N G U A de arena pantanosa do vocales 0 E Viajo y rozan los bordes mi arenilla dormida Adentro mas adentro de la cavidad sonora tus vocales las mfas 291 en el ronco gemido Me aferro a mis moluscos Penetro las papilas Adentro mas adentro llego hasta el estertor al eco de otra lengua L a camino recorro la nostalgio la cerco Pero a la piel no llegan claros los envios Que sintaxis Que paisajes que mis ojos no vieron Quieren brotar desde esas aguas y tu lengua mi lengua (9) Translation I T R A V E L I N M Y T O N G U E of marshy sand two vowels 0 E I travel and the edges rub against my sleepy gravel I get inside I penetrate deeper into the sonorous cavity your vowels mine in the raucous moan I anchor to my mollusks I penetrate the papilae I get inside I penetrate deeper I reach the death rattle the echo of another tongue I walk it I traverse it I long for it I besiege it But the sendings do not reach the skin clear What syntaxes What landscapes that my eyes did not see Want to spring out from these waters and your tongue my tongue (9) 292 Second Poem C R U J E N L O S H U E S O S D E E S T A P R I S I O N Intento abrir al r i tmo de mi abdomen un hueco a la palabra Se encabritan las olas de mi cabeza Aul lo A u l l a el celador pliegue de mi memoria (mi naranja guardada por cascara porosa) Nadie entra en esta esfera Apretada me sumo Zumo liquidos que irrigan mis conductos Pero las fosas husmean buscando la fragancia M i naranja olorosa apretada resiste pero el dedo se hunde desgarrando M e abro en gajos amarillos y crujo este sonido al desmembrarme (10) Translation T H E B O N E S O F T H I S P R I S O N C R E A K O U T I attempt to open to the rhythm of my abdomen a hole in the word M y head's waves are riled I howl It howls watchman fold of my memory (my orange is kept safe by porous rind) No one enters into this sphere Tight I squeeze myself out 9 I juice myself ou t 1 0 in liquids that irrigate 293 my canals But the graves are sniffing out looking for the fragrance M y sweet-smelling orange tight resists but the finger is plunging in tearing I open in yellow slices and I creak out this sound as I am being dismembered (10) Third Poem T R A S L U C I D A L A P I E L P A S A T U H I S T O R I A de una mirada cerco tu postura es otra historia la que asoma me allego a tu ojo ovillando mi imagen dentro de un bastoncillo una vez y otra sin poder rescatarla esta sintaxis P A S A N L U G A R E S H I T O S un temblor en los labios un guifio tenue (24) Translation T R A N S L U C E N T T H E S K I N Y O U R H I S T O R Y P A S S E S with only a look I besiege your posture it is another (hi)story that shows I approach your eye curling my image up into a ball inside a stick time and again without this syntax being able to recover it 294 F I X E D P L A C E S P A S S a trembling of the lips a tenuous wink (24) Notes 1. I a m indebted to Isaac R u b i o for his suggestions for the translat ions of some of Bellessi 's , M i s t r a l ' s and Far ina ' s verses notable for their ambivalent significations, paradoxical ideas or inter textual meanings. F r o m now on I w i l l be referring to these subtleties (which are already discussed in chapters II and III) in footnotes. 2. \"T ien ta\" is an ambivalent verb which I have translated as \"it [the paper] tempts and touches\" to conserve its double meaning. G r a m m a t i c a l l y , \"tienta\" can be taken as present tense, th i rd person singular and indicat ive m o o d . It may also express a c o m m a n d in which case it could be translated as \"tempt and touch,\" i m p l y i n g an order given by the i m p l i c i t poet to the paper. 3. I have translated \" l a tex tura en sombra\" as \"shadowy texture.\" Note that the preposi t ion \"en\" denotes inter ior i ty or signifies \"in(side)\" or \"under\" shadow. 4. I have translated these two lines as \"the world is being vaulted under vast plains.\" T h i s sentence, however, is characterized by syntact ical ambivalence due to the oxymoron ic preposi t ion \"en\" which denotes also that the wor ld is transformed into a vault on top of vast plains. 5. Paradoxica l ly , \"traba\" here could mean both \" l ink\" and \"stammer.\" \"[Q]ue t raba el gesto \/ l a pa labra\" can be translated as a) \"that l inks the gesture \/ the word ,\" or b) \"that s tammers the gesture \/ the word .\" In Spanish a \"\u00a3ra&alenguas\" is a tongue twister. I have opted for \"stammer\" because Bellessi exp l ic i t ly refers in this poem to a \"tartamudeo\" or \"s tammering language\" or uses \"broken\" words or neologisms (such as \"orgonas,\" \"orgotas\") that denote a d isar t icula ted tongue. 6. I have changed the order of the eight last lines of this poem. It seems to me that the verb \"se desoye\" ( thi rd person singular) cannot allude to the p lu ra l \" imagen y palabra .\" It refers to \"puiietazo.\" 7. B y phonetic association, \"valva\" (translated here as valve) has the connotat ion of v u l v a and \"lebrel\" (\"greyhound\") of \"liebre\" (\"hare\"), which is slang for vagina. 8. \"Acornejada\" (translated here as \"black as the raven's\") is M i s t r a l ' s neologism. \"Corneja\" is crow, rook or raven. In Spanish Medieva l l i terature, \"corneja\" was an omen of death. 9. \"Sumirse\" means to sink, run away, disappear, become hol low. Here the idea is that the poetic subject is consumed, dismembered or eaten as a \"naranja olorosa\" or \"sweet-smelling orange.\" \"[M]e sumo Z u m o \" is a paronomasia and therefore I translate \"me sumo\" as \"I squeeze myself out.\" 295 The word \"zumo\" (or juice) functions both as a noun and as a verb, first person singular. I have translated it as a verb (\"I juice myself out in liquids\") to be consistent with the poem's image of a poetic subject that perceives itself as an orange (see \"naranja olorosa\") that is being opened, sliced, dismembered. 296 ","attrs":{"lang":"en","ns":"http:\/\/www.w3.org\/2009\/08\/skos-reference\/skos.html#note","classmap":"oc:AnnotationContainer"},"iri":"http:\/\/www.w3.org\/2009\/08\/skos-reference\/skos.html#note","explain":"Simple Knowledge Organisation System; Notes are used to provide information relating to SKOS concepts. 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