www.internazionale.it/sommario/1646

(il pezzo è disponibile in italiano col titolo di "La parola Carpazi" (trad. Giulia Zavagna) nell'edizione di Internazionale del 23 dicembre 2025, n. 1646, p. 30, che racchiude una selezione di racconti di narrativa messicana contemporanea)

It all ends in a something like a dream. Who exactly died? Was it murder or an act of rebellion? What remains is the presence of what surrounds the house, which was there long before either of them came to that land.

The woman is shown willing to partake several of these never-ending crossings. One of cultural assimilation. Another of the self, entering a different hierarchy in order to survive. Are these journeys without destination acts of connection, deception (of the self, of others) or exploration?

But they're faint, of the violent and uncertain kind, like the voices of the choir in Sarah Kane's *Crave*, something torn up by differences and hierarchies. Are these borders truly uncrossable, an essence of nature, or simply deemed so for convenience?

While opposite, the two voices melt in a polyphony, one sound(text)-mass. The matter-of-fact description of one, the justifications of the other, inventing a reality that would justify all barbarism. One could even see traces of love in the story.

registromovil.bandcamp.com/track/pecado

Addendum: if proximity can lead us somewhere, "Deseo, Carne y Voluntad" by Candelablro is another recent record that incorporates the presence of radio and similar intermissions in its storytelling. This time, from Chile.

A fictitious pirate broadcast where every form of present is equivalent, irrespective of border and correspondence. It is beautiful. Yet, it is also difficult to ignore the slithering shame that if it wasn't for its American origin, we'd be none the wiser.

Waiting for a few measures is like operating the tuner knob (action against inaction) until a more familiar club tune emerges. But it too is blown up, hyper, exposed by the coarse equalizer of a turntable software. Again shouts, calls to action, dance, more numbers and other verbal signposts.

Numbers that unveil the name of a station are spelled out, barely intelligible, drowned in noises and decades-old explosions. Then the glimpse of a local broadcast, a moment too specific and meaningful to really cut those of us who must rely on articles and deep dives.