Sometimes we tend to use the expression ”from the outside of language”. Through it we intend to mean something like what will follow. There is a commonly accepted standard of verbal communication in everyday life that is supposedly determined by a logical discourse. In the ”logic” goes, unequivocally it seems, a use of language spoken pragmatically, usefully, identifiably. Presumably, if the spoken language does not have these characteristics, that is, if it doesn't retain certain established linguistic rules, we would be illegible, we would not understand each others. It is a fact that this amounts to maintain, inevitably, rigid forms of communication that are held on the basis that they have to mean something, that they have to make sense, that they have to be comprehensible, that is, we need to have a rational communicative behavior, or else we would turn illogical, we would fall into nonsense, we would become absurd and irrational. And it is precisely what it is about: for who could continue preventing us from losing ourselves orally, from initiating talks through which (this is language, a means, rather than a tool) humanity could restitute to itself relationships sponsored by the satisfaction of its suppressed or even proscribed qualities? Because our oral communication is prey to the laws of linguistics and its derivations. They are laws that set conductive standards that deceptively vary according to the insignificant displacement caused by some new words emerging over a generation or two, words that only serve to increase the vocabulary of normativity, although we also could say that the normativity is being created with them, following its instrumental patterns. So, why not try to overcome such a discourse that strives to consolidate a monolithic structure? Some of us find it necessary, while confronting its prerogatives, while denouncing its shortcomings, (and in any case, the fallacy of believing itself to be the only one), to grant our communication a life beyond it, to surround the perimeter of its omnipotence and surpass it, enabling another language than inspire a kind of relationship in it so that the oral communication distinguishes itself by triggering a non-rational poetic, indeed absurd, gloriously illogical, dysfunctional, passionately wonderful discourse, a discourse of intensities in which the language of the alligators, of the grass, of the beetle, of the cetaceans, of the crust of bread and of the trees, of hallucination, of the panting of the bodies, of the empty hours, of the green ray would be spoken, noting that, although the word is the medium of our uniqueness, it couldn't be the medium of the domination of the world or of the earth as, paraphrasing Levi-Strauss, at least at the same time as us or perhaps earlier, all that was already there and and has educated us. The word can no longer be the justification of anthropocentrism, and the use of the same as the justification of the superiority of man on Earth, over himself and over the other natural kingdoms.
We have written elsewhere that ”the poem is revolutionary to the extent that it is a place, i.e., that it is the place where the word conquers its own utopia. What had not been emancipated in the laguage, as it had not found its place yet, finds precisely in the poem the place of its emancipation: its realization”.
However, the poem only points out a stage of that emancipation (of course welcome, there is no doubt about it). But, obviously, it remains a space for initiated (to which we are not opposed, that is clear). But it is necessary to boost the leap to account for what could be the final stage of the total liberation of the word as the result of an extreme and truly revolutionary transformation of spoken communication between human beings. So that one day, unexpectedly, the tongue would become a petal that leads the mouth to utter words of the abyss, to emit clouds of sulfur, and so that the known world would turn upset, paralyzed, convulsed, exhibiting its hidden limitations, since ultraslight vegetal tissues and microscopic crystalline particles destroy the fuselage of ”communication” paroxysmal technologization. Ah, the passion of below! Some of us have felt that moved, stunned and playful on falling into the vertigo of contralexia and on promoting it, initiating ourselves in the language of that. This aims to be the ”surrealist conversation”.
As its name suggests, this is a conversation. A first experiment was carried out by Ángel Zapata, Inés Mendoza and Eugenio Castro, a Friday night at the end of March 2011 in Madrid. It was not recorded. However, its resonance did not stop to spread more and more among some of us. Later, Vicente Gutierrez, Noé Ortega and Eugenio Castro repeated the experience the night of April 20th in Santander, but no testimony of that new conversation was recorded neither. But it served as a starting point for a new experiment that was performed on Saturday May 1st at Comillas. Three conversations took place. The first, very brief one occurred without previously decision between Vicente Gutierrez and Eugenio Castro at two o´clock in the afternoon on the lookout tower of Santa Lucía in the village of Comillas. The next two took place between the three friends at about six o'clock, sitting on a large rock by the sea.
We have to say that the ”surrealist conversation” lacks any rule, any standard, save that of breaking loose, in common agreement regardless, as already explained, of the structure that defines a logical and rational conversation, and sheltered, indeed, by a decidedly poetic language according to its different forms: analogical, not rational, absurd, visionary, ”umorous”, etc.
In line with the Enquiry on utopia in issue 19/20 of Salamandra, we cannot help considering this experiment as one of the specific proposals that the surrealist spirit could bring, at least according to the spirit of some surrealists. This experiment, even if only as a highly limited attempt, gives a glimpse of what could become a liberated language. And well, we do not stop thinking that, in parallel with the articulated language of reflection as we know it and that history gives us evidence of and will continue to give proof of, there must be another discourse that crosses it the form of a conversation that could re-enchant human communication; a discourse that goes beyond that which already exists, in its most evolved form, until the arrival of the surrealist conversation, in liberated poetic writing (that we cannot forget, to our regret, is a cultivated and enlightened form); a discourse that opens deep and extensive fissures in the still admitted hegemony of that rational and articulation and exclusive and invariable logic.
The following documents would like to be a first testimony of that language to come.
Eugenio – Tonight I propose you to eat the severity of carnation. I do not know if you've ever ate its fruit, but it has the exquisite taste of honey extracted from an eye, a flabbergasted eye.
Noé – For me this is very suggestive, but the petal infused enough respect, I have the feeling that if you accidentally swallow the petal a cliff will open inside me and I will be engulfed following this petal.
Vicente – But after you swallow a petal, it has opened a cliff, an abyss inside you?
N. – No, there is only a kind of fear, similar when I am afraid of sea stars that have missed a leg.
V. – Well, I do not think so, I think that it happened to you but you don’t want to tell us.
N. – Maybe I swallowed another thing that was not a petal but for me is like a petal.
E. – In any case, there is no problem if in the belly of a petal-eater a cliff was opened, I love the idea of eating batrachian nests, for example, how that can affect to the new mindset structure of my own psyche? I would love it. And I invite you tonight, as I said before, to have gargantuan dinner: batrachian nests, petals, nettles, why not bones of antilope?, why not the pellets of sirens?... This kind of banquet that does not exist in usual books of the world, this banquet that fortunately has perished is just the feast that we should provide for us, and it can be a wonderful invitation, an great invitation, for a good digestion, for a good distribution of what are our juices stomach, what could be our gastric juices and how they can work through all the elements of which we speak: a nettle, a petal, a petal of a rose, a leaf of bamboo, a petal of a tiger, a petal of siren, a petal of a woman, what is a petal of a women if we ever tasted before? What is a petal of a woman? Until we swallow it we cannot know. This drunkenness is our drunkenness is and we cannot deprive ourself of this, like I do not know what you think.
V. – You have convinced me, but ingest alcohol or alcohol distilled from the wings of vultures is compatible with this?
N. – I have never tried to mix it with alcohol, but I suggest we can mix it with the crown of butterflies, I've heard that it has a hallucinatory effect quite pronounced, so maybe we could decode the spider web that trace the dragonflies on the marshes.
V. – Yes, but I've heard that when you try to take these crowns there are some beings things that will prevent you to do that and if they find you they will undress you. So it's dangerous, I do not know who of us could go to source of these headsets butterfly.
N. – It is only dangerous for those who don´t want to get naked.
V. – Yeah, but otherwise they also undress you enclosed in caves, and you can be locked in in those caves for months, it is dangerous go for that material.
E. – In any case it is our little adventure. However, it is very appropriate, in order to exorcise this danger, offer the hairs of our legs to the guards (who hide behind those terrible land you are talking about), offering the hair from our legs. I think it would exert a sedative effect on them and allow us to roam with absolute serenity and pleasure for all ashes deposited in a part of the sky just in that place of prohibition.
V. – But only if you find them, I do not mean forever. I have heard that there are certain places where you can be located, avoid thing to know, discover paths, honey smell sex woman, perhaps following the path of honey and the smell of vaginal discharge can reach the road where there are those beings that we are trapped inside.
E. – I think it is a handicap in any case. It is not an impediment to disclaim those places, those roads. I think what you said very well, and with an image absolutely delightful and desirable. Track, with our noses, honey left by the sex of a woman. I seem stupid, supremely foolish to ignore such clamor, of such a smell, to the extent that would be admissible only to change direction because we are crossed between a whale and that whale invite us to follow her to the highest depths misery, that's what I think could be a substantial change, sensible, to abandon all fear all that could produce that what you were talking about.
N. – Anyway, if you on the road to our quest for the crown of butterflies, we were to follow the trail of honey to leave the sex of women, I believe that if we found that honey should automatically leave the road and search the diadem butterfly, as I believe that honey sex for women is a reward high enough that, if we could mix it with water from the rain, we would have a feast more than enough for a night wonderful.
V. – What the tiaras You told him you, but it is essential for dinner. In my case, I can do without the crowns of butterflies, I prefer their steps, steps that are hanging from the strings of their eyes.
E. – Well, it's a matter of choice, I think that we shouldn´t contradict each other in this way. Who would not want to hang the strings of the eyes of a vulture, for example? Who would not want to hang the strings of the eyes of god? Who would not want to hang the strings from the eyes of a moth when we toward death? I see no contradiction between this and that, on the contrary, I think there is a thread that makes us precisely communicating range, swing, as if it were the end of history; or much better, as if it were the ruins of history.
N. – After the feast, I propose you to weave a tissue of a song and hang it to crown the night near the ocean, leaving the cloth of our own songs near the ocean all night.
V. – I agree, yes, even we can weave with cloth and weave a song with clouds, with green clouds. It would be a very pretty picture, our sound weaved with clouds leaved near the ocean.
E. – In that case, I think it is appropriate from this point is to compose the song. Let us a while to write, to draw it, and tonight, in fact, once we made tonight to let us conjure up a wave and the wave do with it what you want.